Below appears an example of the definition paper, as discussed here, suited to the Spring 2012 term theme. Be advised that it is of acceptable length for the assignment when formatted appropriately for submission as a paper, and that it is merely an example of how the definition paper is to be carried out.
It is a commonplace among educators in the United States that one of the major purposes of education is to suit students to become good citizens. Often unexamined, however, is what it means to be a "good citizen," and there is markedly little consensus on that score. A number of examples of good citizenry are able to be identified, however, and their common features offer a possible model for good citizenship as participation in the structures of public order coupled with the willingness and ability to question and resist those structures in the interest of improving them . The model emerges from examination of such mainstream fictional characters as Captain America from The Ultimates and B.J. Hunnicutt from M*A*S*H.
The character Captain America is one embedded in the dominant popular culture of the United States through a movie released early in the second decade of the twenty-first century and a long term of appearance in comic books. In one series of those comics, The Ultimates, he is portrayed as having volunteered to take part in the World War II Super Soldier program (Millar, Gods). Having entered the United States military to fight against Nazi Germany marks him as having participated in the support of public structures in a significant way; it is not without cause that those who served in World War II are referred to as the "Greatest Generation," and in the comics, Captain America is touted as the foremost among them. He is not, however, wholly and mindlessly obedient to the commands of the hierarchy in which he participates; he does at times take actions which his superiors condemn but which accord with his own personal code of ethics. For example, he at one point falsifies reports of having permission to go off base and requisition military equipment to pursue a personal vendetta, not because someone has wronged him, personally, but because he takes exception to an action he learns has occurred (Millar, Homeland). Although the action, an act of domestic abuse, is one that deserves execration, Captain America violates standard protocol and the rule of law to punish it on his own initiative. The action, though, goes unpunished, tacitly approving it. The approval suggests that it is a good thing for even so prominent a citizen as Captain America is in The Ultimates to, from time to time, act outside of the strictures to which good citizenship such as Captain America's normally adheres.
On the long-running television series M*A*S*H, B.J. Hunnicutt is a doctor from the San Francisco, California, area who is drafted into the United States Army during the Korean Conflict. While in service, he is assigned as a surgeon at the 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital, the MASH that gives the series its name. There, he performs admirably, saving the lives of a number of American and United Nations servicemen, Korean civilians, and even at times in the series, enemy troops who have been captured or who have surrendered. He does largely conform to the structures of the army into which he is drafted; he follows the orders of his commanding officer, accords that officer the displays of respect expected by the situation, wears appropriate uniform attire when on duty, and remains at his post at the assigned times. Hunnicutt is presented as an everyman character; he is competent, even skillful, but not superlative in his abilities, and his concerns reflect the ideals often presented as those of the "mainstream" white middle class--a population regarded (problematically) as unmarked and therefore a standard from which to judge deviation. His adherence to standards is therefore likened with model citizenship. At the same time, he is willing to set aside the rules and regulations of the army when doing so will serve the greater good. For example, in the episode "The Korean Surgeon," Hunnicutt joins his fellow doctor, Hawkeye Pierce, in aiding an enemy physician impersonate an allied doctor, an action which results in the saving of several lives before being uncovered and punished as an execution of several criminal acts. That Hunnicutt undertakes such an action, one which flagrantly violates a number of the regular rules of the military specifically and society generally, placing the benefits above the potential penalties, suggests that such model citizens as Hunnicutt is likened to will do the same. The suggestion is reinforced by the fact that Hunnicutt is not punished for his participation in the act; the very structures against which he rebels, structures which he normally adheres to, tacitly approve his violation of them for cause. Citizenship is thus presented as a nuanced thing, one that allows for criticism of the structures it normally upholds.
There are certainly other examples that can be pointed out of fictional good citizens, and recourse to them will no doubt allow for an enhanced understanding of what good citizenship is. Good citizenship is a cornerstone of civilization itself, and so anything that aids in understanding it works to the betterment of society.
Works Cited
"The Korean Surgeon." M*A*S*H. 20th Century Fox, 2006. DVD.
Millar, Mark. The Ultimates, Volume 2: Homeland Security. New York: Marvel, 2004. Print.
---. The Ultimates 2, Volume 1: Gods & Monsters. New York: Marvel, 2005. Print.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Announcement
Students, please be advised of the following:
On 18 and 25 January 2012, my office hours will be held at the 40th Street campus, room PA-310, due to regularly scheduled advising. The time, 11am, is unchanged.
Syllabi are going up on the website. Those for ENG 099, ENG 101, and HUM 110 exhibit some slight changes from those distributed in hard copy during class time. The changes reflect expressions of preferred policy from the dean and coordinators under whose jurisdictions the classes fall.
On 18 and 25 January 2012, my office hours will be held at the 40th Street campus, room PA-310, due to regularly scheduled advising. The time, 11am, is unchanged.
Syllabi are going up on the website. Those for ENG 099, ENG 101, and HUM 110 exhibit some slight changes from those distributed in hard copy during class time. The changes reflect expressions of preferred policy from the dean and coordinators under whose jurisdictions the classes fall.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Sample Summary
What appears below is excerpted and slightly adapted from another blog I maintain.
Michael-John DePalma's "Re-envisioning Religious Discourses as Rhetorical Resources in Composition Teaching: A Pragmatic Response to the Challenge of Belief" appears in the December 2011 issue of CCC. In the article, DePalma argues that the pragmatism outlined by William James obliges composition teachers to allow the use of religious discourse by students of faith as a means to negotiate the tasks of composition and to perform the acts of knowledge production that are often encouraged in first-year writing. In doing so, DePalma articulates the commonly-held dichotomy between religious and academic understandings, citing a fair amount of scholarship to assert that the view is widely held before applying James's pragmatism to undermining the view. He also provides an extended case study of a former student's writing, using it as an exemplar of successful classroom performance by a student who is very much a person of faith. DePalma is careful to point out the difficulties attendant upon opening mainstream composition teaching to the use of religious resources, but he argues that the benefits to teachers and students justify enduring the challenges thereof. The article is an effective outline of a pedagogical approach, one well-grounded in theory and speaking to common sense.
Michael-John DePalma's "Re-envisioning Religious Discourses as Rhetorical Resources in Composition Teaching: A Pragmatic Response to the Challenge of Belief" appears in the December 2011 issue of CCC. In the article, DePalma argues that the pragmatism outlined by William James obliges composition teachers to allow the use of religious discourse by students of faith as a means to negotiate the tasks of composition and to perform the acts of knowledge production that are often encouraged in first-year writing. In doing so, DePalma articulates the commonly-held dichotomy between religious and academic understandings, citing a fair amount of scholarship to assert that the view is widely held before applying James's pragmatism to undermining the view. He also provides an extended case study of a former student's writing, using it as an exemplar of successful classroom performance by a student who is very much a person of faith. DePalma is careful to point out the difficulties attendant upon opening mainstream composition teaching to the use of religious resources, but he argues that the benefits to teachers and students justify enduring the challenges thereof. The article is an effective outline of a pedagogical approach, one well-grounded in theory and speaking to common sense.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
An External Work of Definition, Moving to Classification
It has been a while since this blog updated, and I suppose I will need to do more with it in the new term. For now, though, a link and some commentary.
The link is to Christina H.'s Cracked.com article, "5 Reasons Calling Someone a 'Nerd' Is Officially Meaningless," published 20 December 2011. In the article, Christina H. argues that the old label of "nerd," particularly defined as an intelligent social outcast who focuses overly narrowly and deeply upon an unusual field of interest, is no longer applicable. She systematically overthrows many of the old components of the definition, highlighting their historical contexts and explicating how they do not apply anymore. The article, being an online piece, is replete with links to referenced materials, helping the author to establish her veracity, and the combination of the adequate use of outside source materials and humor make for an effective article.*
I point the piece out because I find that it does represent an example of several things I wish to highlight in my classes. First, Christina H. does go through and underpin the traditional understandings and definitions with which she works, finding a number of examples which support her claims and highlighting how they do so. She also points out how those definitions fail to apply to many to whom the label "nerd" is often applied at present, so that she carries out classification according to the second option of my classification paper assignments in my first-year composition classes. In doing both, she provides an example of how the specific tasks to which I assign my students can and do show in in the "real world" as well as how the work called for in my classes need not be stilted and boring, but can be engaging and entertaining.
It is an important lesson, I think.
*I am aware that the author of the article references Wikipedia, which I advise against in my students' academic and professional work. The issue here is one of context. Cracked.com advertises itself as "America's Only Humor Site Since 1958," so that it immediately marks itself as something other than a major academic resource; the label as a "Humor Site" calls for regard as such, and the "Since 1958," a year that far predates the Internet, reinforces the idea by means of comic exaggeration. This is far different from the sober academic or technical prose that my classes call for my students to use; Cracked.com has the purpose of entertainment, and while that purpose necessarily requires that there be some informative work done, it lessens the obligation for scholarly rigor. That obligation is quite strong for my students, since I seek to train them with an eye towards scholarship; it is easier to pull back than to push forward.
The link is to Christina H.'s Cracked.com article, "5 Reasons Calling Someone a 'Nerd' Is Officially Meaningless," published 20 December 2011. In the article, Christina H. argues that the old label of "nerd," particularly defined as an intelligent social outcast who focuses overly narrowly and deeply upon an unusual field of interest, is no longer applicable. She systematically overthrows many of the old components of the definition, highlighting their historical contexts and explicating how they do not apply anymore. The article, being an online piece, is replete with links to referenced materials, helping the author to establish her veracity, and the combination of the adequate use of outside source materials and humor make for an effective article.*
I point the piece out because I find that it does represent an example of several things I wish to highlight in my classes. First, Christina H. does go through and underpin the traditional understandings and definitions with which she works, finding a number of examples which support her claims and highlighting how they do so. She also points out how those definitions fail to apply to many to whom the label "nerd" is often applied at present, so that she carries out classification according to the second option of my classification paper assignments in my first-year composition classes. In doing both, she provides an example of how the specific tasks to which I assign my students can and do show in in the "real world" as well as how the work called for in my classes need not be stilted and boring, but can be engaging and entertaining.
It is an important lesson, I think.
*I am aware that the author of the article references Wikipedia, which I advise against in my students' academic and professional work. The issue here is one of context. Cracked.com advertises itself as "America's Only Humor Site Since 1958," so that it immediately marks itself as something other than a major academic resource; the label as a "Humor Site" calls for regard as such, and the "Since 1958," a year that far predates the Internet, reinforces the idea by means of comic exaggeration. This is far different from the sober academic or technical prose that my classes call for my students to use; Cracked.com has the purpose of entertainment, and while that purpose necessarily requires that there be some informative work done, it lessens the obligation for scholarly rigor. That obligation is quite strong for my students, since I seek to train them with an eye towards scholarship; it is easier to pull back than to push forward.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Sample Longer Paper
Students, below appears an example of how to expand your own shorter papers into the six- to eight-page longer paper that the course requires. In this example, which is the bare minimum allowable length for your own papers, I work from my earlier option 1 classification paper. The material that I bring straight over from it appears in white. The added counter-argument appears in red. The rebuttal is in green. New material supporting my thesis is in blue. Sources for each are in the Works Cited according to the color of what they support (the source for the counter-argument is red, for example).
Please note that in your own papers, you are not to color-code; I do so in the example as a teaching device, showing you how the parts fit together. Please note also that, as with the earlier paper, the topic of the example is not one you may use.
Also, I am well aware that I give Le Morte d'Arthur where the source I reference gives Le Mort d'Arthur. The spelling of the title varies from edition to edition, and I use the one with which I am most familiar.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. Typically, the Arthurian knight Sir Gawain is not lumped in with such figures as stand to define the anti-hero type. A close examination of his attributes, however, reveals that he very much fits the model.
For him to fit the model, however, necessitates that the model is correctly formed, and there is not agreement that this is the case. Indeed, scholars disagree on the nature of the anti-hero. For instance, in the Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory, J.A. Cuddon defines the anti-hero as "A 'non-hero', or the antithesis of a hero of the old-fashioned kind who was capable of heroic deeds, who was dashing, strong, brave, and resourceful" [sic] (42-43), a definition which would seem to belie the contention that the anti-hero attains fair ends by foul means. Similarly, Chris Baldick, writing for the Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms, defines the anti-hero as "A central character in a dramatic or narrative work who lacks the qualities of nobility and magnanimity expected of traditional heroes and heroines in romances and epics." Both sources speak to a disagreement with the idea of the anti-hero as performing heroic deeds by means of evil actions, and to a prevailing scholarly disagreement as to the nature of the anti-hero, generally.
That the two sources disagree and thereby suggest a lack of scholarly consensus, however, has problematic implications. Both sources are reputable and are therefore likely the result of sound study. The two, insofar as they disagree, cannot both be correct; if one of them is right, the other cannot be, since they differ. That one of them must be wrong, despite being reputable, raises the possibility that both are wrong; if one of the two reputable sources can be in error, then the other might be, as well. More problematic, however, is that both definitions attempt to say what an anti-hero is by discussing what it is not. While it is helpful to do some work in defining by negation, as it allows for a restriction of examination to a reasonable extent rather than the wide-open field of inquiry that otherwise exists, not all definition can be done by negation. The antithesis of a hero can be a villain as surely as an anti-hero, so that Cuddon's definition is incomplete. Also, central epic characters such as inform Baldick's definition can be noble yet far from heroic, as Satan in Milton's Paradise Lost attests. Cuddon's definition is too narrow, and Baldick's too broad, to be accurate. Room exists, therefore, for another view of the anti-hero, and for judgments based upon that view.
As a knight of the Round Table, the highest order of traditional chivalry in English-language literature, and a close kinsman of King Arthur, the legendary paragon of royal virtues, Sir Gawain would be expected to be a fairly common sort of hero. A common image of the Arthurian knight is one of an ennobled warrior riding a white horse while wearing shining armor. The knight is almost always a man--only in Spenser's Faerie Queene does an active female knight appear in a traditional English-language Arthurian context. He is seen rescuing maidens from unjust captivity and battling against evil creatures given to laying waste to the peaceful countryside and its population of simple farmers who would otherwise sing merrily as they go about their honest work of tilling fields and husbanding livestock. Sir Lancelot is often regarded as the exemplar of the type, although he is not as good an example in the standard text of English-language Arthurian legend, Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, as is often perceived. The knights who achieve the Holy Grail in Malory's text--Sir Bors, Sir Percival, and most especially Sir Galahad--are better representatives. Bors fights for right despite the sure knowledge of his peers' condemnation for his doing so (2.324). Galahad is in fact so pure an example of noble knighthood that he is translated directly to heaven (2.314). Both typify the common conception of Arthurian chivalric conduct.
Sir Gawain falls far short of that standard. Even in a major work which centers on Gawain, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, in which he could be expected to show up as a pure example of heroism, he ends up coming off as committing less-than-good acts. In the work, Gawain enters into a wager with Sir BertilakBertilak; she threatens to trap him in bed on the first day and on the second, she kisses him while he is still abed (ll. 1211-25, 1504-07). Gawain makes his trades to Bertilak, gaining in exchange an abundance of venison on the first day (ll. 1372-82). On the second day, his trade gains him the meat of a boar hunted at great personal risk; even an average boar is more than capable of disemboweling a person in short order, and it "was massive and broad, greatest of all boars, / ... / For three men in one rush he threw on their backs" before maiming several hunting dogs and charging at the hunting party as he shrugs off volleys of arrows (ll. 1439-67); Gawain gains a dearly-bought prize. On the third day, however, Gawain betrays his vow, keeping from Bertilak an enchanted belt or sash he receives from Lady Bertilak (ll. 1679-1947). The lie is bad. That the lie takes the form of contravening hospitality oaths is far worse, violating an ancient and widely-respected code--and that it comes after Gawain has gained so much from it only compounds the ill. That it occurs over the receipt of a gift given in bed by another man's wife is perhaps worst of all. That Gawain does so marks him as enacting evil.
He does worse yet. In Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, Gawain errs gravely in his first mission as a knight in Arthur's service. He moves to slay a knight who was attempting to yield himself, actively denying the plea despite the fact that "a Knight that is without mercy, is without worship [sic]"; he intemperately kills the knight's lady, instead, as he is unable to check his sword-swing when she throws herself over her knight in an attempt to protect him--"he smote off her head by misadventure" (Malory 1.119). In failing to show mercy to a foe who had conceded defeat, and in failing to control his martial abilities, particularly as they befell a noblewoman, Gawain violates the Round Table Oath to which all those of the high chivalric order were sworn not just at their induction, but annually (1.134). Violating one's sworn oath is, again, generally regarded as an action good people do not perform; even worse yet is killing those who have yielded or who are not in a position to defend themselves. Gawain's commission of both acts is marked as evil.
So, too, is an action taken late in his chivalric career. After Arthur, responding to a papal command, seeks to reconcile himself with Lancelot, Gawain intervenes, declaring blood feud against Lancelot (3.417). It skirts the commands of the Vicar of Christ, which comes perilously close to the active commission of evil. That he shortly refuses Lancelot's offer of penance takes it even closer--certainly, it smacks of the kind of harshness commonly associated with villains. That he compels Arthur to join him in his feud, shattering the fellowship of the Round Table as he does so and setting up the potential for a coup against Arthur in which Camelot is overthrown makes his feud very much a venue for evil (3.422). Thus, Gawain situates himself as enacting evil, helping him to qualify as an anti-hero despite the initial impression of him as a wholly noble Arthurian knight.
Even so, Gawain is able to come to fair resolution. In Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, after his perfidy with Bertilak, Gawain faces the Green Knight, whom he had earlier attacked as part of a wager in Arthur's court (ll. 381-456). In facing the Green Knight, Gawain knows that he is putting his own head under the axe:
Sir Gawain does manage to meet his end well. When his brothers, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, are killed by Sir Lancelot as he rescues Queen Guinevere from being burned at the stake, Gawain vows vengeance upon him (Malory 3.406). Given the dictates of the warrior culture in which all four lived, it is a wholly appropriate response, the more so because Gawain is the eldest brother and therefore the patriarch of the Orkney royal household; Gawain's actions thus read as well performed. He does eventually have the opportunity to attempt that vengeance, and fights an extravagant, pitched battle against Sir Lancelot, receiving a head-wound in the process (3.426-30). Any battle with Lancelot is a perilous situation, given Lancelot's long history of inflicting grievously fatal injury upon his opponents (see 3.379-80 for an example; Lancelot splits Meliagraunce's head open while one hand is literally tied behind his back), so that Gawain's entry into it speaks to his innate heroism. Complications from that injury lead to Gawain's death. On his death-bed, though, he forgives his recent foeman, absolving him of guilt for his death; "I Sir Gawain, Knight of the Round Table, sought my death, and not through thy deserving, but it was mine own seeking." He recalls the greater good of Arthur's realm above his own personal vendetta; "come over the sea in all the haste that thou mayest, with thy noble Knights, and rescue my noble King that made thee Knight, that is my lord and uncle, King Arthur." He even refers to Lancelot as "Flower of all noble Knights that ever I heard or saw in my days," which is high praise (3.435). Gawain dies as a result of performing his duties, which is admirable, and he forgives his enemies as he dies, which is the mark of a particularly noble soul. He ends his life in line with the promise of his chivalric calling. He passes on as a hero. And that he does so after engaging in such foul deeds as that with which he begins his chivalric career firmly establishes him as an anti-hero.
That the Arthurian Sir Gawain functions as an anti-hero becomes obvious upon consideration of his knightly career. Since Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and Le Morte d'Arthur occupy positions of singular importance in English-language Arthurian legend, serving as the key example of medieval romance and the primary reference text for Anglophone Arthuriana, their portrayals of the knights of the Round Table and their deeds underpin much other writing in the English language and indeed of productions in other media. The anti-hero that figures so prominently in many of them is thereby shown to have much older iterations than is commonly realized, showing that what goes on now is very much of a piece with what has gone on for a long, long time. It illustrates that our past can yet teach us much about our present selves.
Works Cited
~Baldick, Chris. "Anti-hero." Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms. Oxford UP, 2008. Oxford Reference Online. Oxford UP, 2011. Web. 14 November 2011.
~Cuddon, J.A. "Anti-hero." Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory. 4th ed. Rev. C.E. Preston. New York: Penguin, 1999. Print.
~Malory, Thomas. La Mort D’Arthur. Ed. Joseph Haslewood. 3 vols. London: R. Wilks, 1816. Print.
~Milton, John. Paradise Lost. 2nd ed. Ed. Scott Elledge. New York: Norton, 1993. Print.
~Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Ed. and trans. James Winny. Orchard Park, NY: Broadview P, 2005. Print.
~Spenser, Edmund. The Faerie Queene. Edmund Spenser's Poetry. 3rd ed. Comps. and eds. Hugh Maclean and Anne Lake Prescott. New York: Norton, 1993. Print.
Please note that in your own papers, you are not to color-code; I do so in the example as a teaching device, showing you how the parts fit together. Please note also that, as with the earlier paper, the topic of the example is not one you may use.
Also, I am well aware that I give Le Morte d'Arthur where the source I reference gives Le Mort d'Arthur. The spelling of the title varies from edition to edition, and I use the one with which I am most familiar.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. Typically, the Arthurian knight Sir Gawain is not lumped in with such figures as stand to define the anti-hero type. A close examination of his attributes, however, reveals that he very much fits the model.
For him to fit the model, however, necessitates that the model is correctly formed, and there is not agreement that this is the case. Indeed, scholars disagree on the nature of the anti-hero. For instance, in the Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory, J.A. Cuddon defines the anti-hero as "A 'non-hero', or the antithesis of a hero of the old-fashioned kind who was capable of heroic deeds, who was dashing, strong, brave, and resourceful" [sic] (42-43), a definition which would seem to belie the contention that the anti-hero attains fair ends by foul means. Similarly, Chris Baldick, writing for the Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms, defines the anti-hero as "A central character in a dramatic or narrative work who lacks the qualities of nobility and magnanimity expected of traditional heroes and heroines in romances and epics." Both sources speak to a disagreement with the idea of the anti-hero as performing heroic deeds by means of evil actions, and to a prevailing scholarly disagreement as to the nature of the anti-hero, generally.
That the two sources disagree and thereby suggest a lack of scholarly consensus, however, has problematic implications. Both sources are reputable and are therefore likely the result of sound study. The two, insofar as they disagree, cannot both be correct; if one of them is right, the other cannot be, since they differ. That one of them must be wrong, despite being reputable, raises the possibility that both are wrong; if one of the two reputable sources can be in error, then the other might be, as well. More problematic, however, is that both definitions attempt to say what an anti-hero is by discussing what it is not. While it is helpful to do some work in defining by negation, as it allows for a restriction of examination to a reasonable extent rather than the wide-open field of inquiry that otherwise exists, not all definition can be done by negation. The antithesis of a hero can be a villain as surely as an anti-hero, so that Cuddon's definition is incomplete. Also, central epic characters such as inform Baldick's definition can be noble yet far from heroic, as Satan in Milton's Paradise Lost attests. Cuddon's definition is too narrow, and Baldick's too broad, to be accurate. Room exists, therefore, for another view of the anti-hero, and for judgments based upon that view.
As a knight of the Round Table, the highest order of traditional chivalry in English-language literature, and a close kinsman of King Arthur, the legendary paragon of royal virtues, Sir Gawain would be expected to be a fairly common sort of hero. A common image of the Arthurian knight is one of an ennobled warrior riding a white horse while wearing shining armor. The knight is almost always a man--only in Spenser's Faerie Queene does an active female knight appear in a traditional English-language Arthurian context. He is seen rescuing maidens from unjust captivity and battling against evil creatures given to laying waste to the peaceful countryside and its population of simple farmers who would otherwise sing merrily as they go about their honest work of tilling fields and husbanding livestock. Sir Lancelot is often regarded as the exemplar of the type, although he is not as good an example in the standard text of English-language Arthurian legend, Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, as is often perceived. The knights who achieve the Holy Grail in Malory's text--Sir Bors, Sir Percival, and most especially Sir Galahad--are better representatives. Bors fights for right despite the sure knowledge of his peers' condemnation for his doing so (2.324). Galahad is in fact so pure an example of noble knighthood that he is translated directly to heaven (2.314). Both typify the common conception of Arthurian chivalric conduct.
Sir Gawain falls far short of that standard. Even in a major work which centers on Gawain, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, in which he could be expected to show up as a pure example of heroism, he ends up coming off as committing less-than-good acts. In the work, Gawain enters into a wager with Sir BertilakBertilak; she threatens to trap him in bed on the first day and on the second, she kisses him while he is still abed (ll. 1211-25, 1504-07). Gawain makes his trades to Bertilak, gaining in exchange an abundance of venison on the first day (ll. 1372-82). On the second day, his trade gains him the meat of a boar hunted at great personal risk; even an average boar is more than capable of disemboweling a person in short order, and it "was massive and broad, greatest of all boars, / ... / For three men in one rush he threw on their backs" before maiming several hunting dogs and charging at the hunting party as he shrugs off volleys of arrows (ll. 1439-67); Gawain gains a dearly-bought prize. On the third day, however, Gawain betrays his vow, keeping from Bertilak an enchanted belt or sash he receives from Lady Bertilak (ll. 1679-1947). The lie is bad. That the lie takes the form of contravening hospitality oaths is far worse, violating an ancient and widely-respected code--and that it comes after Gawain has gained so much from it only compounds the ill. That it occurs over the receipt of a gift given in bed by another man's wife is perhaps worst of all. That Gawain does so marks him as enacting evil.
He does worse yet. In Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, Gawain errs gravely in his first mission as a knight in Arthur's service. He moves to slay a knight who was attempting to yield himself, actively denying the plea despite the fact that "a Knight that is without mercy, is without worship [sic]"; he intemperately kills the knight's lady, instead, as he is unable to check his sword-swing when she throws herself over her knight in an attempt to protect him--"he smote off her head by misadventure" (Malory 1.119). In failing to show mercy to a foe who had conceded defeat, and in failing to control his martial abilities, particularly as they befell a noblewoman, Gawain violates the Round Table Oath to which all those of the high chivalric order were sworn not just at their induction, but annually (1.134). Violating one's sworn oath is, again, generally regarded as an action good people do not perform; even worse yet is killing those who have yielded or who are not in a position to defend themselves. Gawain's commission of both acts is marked as evil.
So, too, is an action taken late in his chivalric career. After Arthur, responding to a papal command, seeks to reconcile himself with Lancelot, Gawain intervenes, declaring blood feud against Lancelot (3.417). It skirts the commands of the Vicar of Christ, which comes perilously close to the active commission of evil. That he shortly refuses Lancelot's offer of penance takes it even closer--certainly, it smacks of the kind of harshness commonly associated with villains. That he compels Arthur to join him in his feud, shattering the fellowship of the Round Table as he does so and setting up the potential for a coup against Arthur in which Camelot is overthrown makes his feud very much a venue for evil (3.422). Thus, Gawain situates himself as enacting evil, helping him to qualify as an anti-hero despite the initial impression of him as a wholly noble Arthurian knight.
Even so, Gawain is able to come to fair resolution. In Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, after his perfidy with Bertilak, Gawain faces the Green Knight, whom he had earlier attacked as part of a wager in Arthur's court (ll. 381-456). In facing the Green Knight, Gawain knows that he is putting his own head under the axe:
He bent his neck and bowed,That Gawain works to fulfill a vow despite the deep-rooted belief that doing so will cost him his head speaks well in his favor. So, too, does the valorization offered him by Arthur and Arthur's other knights, that they mimic his dress with a green belt, "And whoever afterwards wore it was always honoured" (l. 2520). Enjoying the renown of the Round Table can easily be regarded as a fair end, and Gawain comes to it through less-than-honorable means, situating him as an anti-hero.
Showing his flesh all bare,
And seeming unafraid;
He would not shrink in fear. (ll. 2255-2258)
Sir Gawain does manage to meet his end well. When his brothers, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, are killed by Sir Lancelot as he rescues Queen Guinevere from being burned at the stake, Gawain vows vengeance upon him (Malory 3.406). Given the dictates of the warrior culture in which all four lived, it is a wholly appropriate response, the more so because Gawain is the eldest brother and therefore the patriarch of the Orkney royal household; Gawain's actions thus read as well performed. He does eventually have the opportunity to attempt that vengeance, and fights an extravagant, pitched battle against Sir Lancelot, receiving a head-wound in the process (3.426-30). Any battle with Lancelot is a perilous situation, given Lancelot's long history of inflicting grievously fatal injury upon his opponents (see 3.379-80 for an example; Lancelot splits Meliagraunce's head open while one hand is literally tied behind his back), so that Gawain's entry into it speaks to his innate heroism. Complications from that injury lead to Gawain's death. On his death-bed, though, he forgives his recent foeman, absolving him of guilt for his death; "I Sir Gawain, Knight of the Round Table, sought my death, and not through thy deserving, but it was mine own seeking." He recalls the greater good of Arthur's realm above his own personal vendetta; "come over the sea in all the haste that thou mayest, with thy noble Knights, and rescue my noble King that made thee Knight, that is my lord and uncle, King Arthur." He even refers to Lancelot as "Flower of all noble Knights that ever I heard or saw in my days," which is high praise (3.435). Gawain dies as a result of performing his duties, which is admirable, and he forgives his enemies as he dies, which is the mark of a particularly noble soul. He ends his life in line with the promise of his chivalric calling. He passes on as a hero. And that he does so after engaging in such foul deeds as that with which he begins his chivalric career firmly establishes him as an anti-hero.
That the Arthurian Sir Gawain functions as an anti-hero becomes obvious upon consideration of his knightly career. Since Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and Le Morte d'Arthur occupy positions of singular importance in English-language Arthurian legend, serving as the key example of medieval romance and the primary reference text for Anglophone Arthuriana, their portrayals of the knights of the Round Table and their deeds underpin much other writing in the English language and indeed of productions in other media. The anti-hero that figures so prominently in many of them is thereby shown to have much older iterations than is commonly realized, showing that what goes on now is very much of a piece with what has gone on for a long, long time. It illustrates that our past can yet teach us much about our present selves.
Works Cited
~Baldick, Chris. "Anti-hero." Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms. Oxford UP, 2008. Oxford Reference Online. Oxford UP, 2011. Web. 14 November 2011.
~Cuddon, J.A. "Anti-hero." Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory. 4th ed. Rev. C.E. Preston. New York: Penguin, 1999. Print.
~Malory, Thomas. La Mort D’Arthur. Ed. Joseph Haslewood. 3 vols. London: R. Wilks, 1816. Print.
~Milton, John. Paradise Lost. 2nd ed. Ed. Scott Elledge. New York: Norton, 1993. Print.
~Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Ed. and trans. James Winny. Orchard Park, NY: Broadview P, 2005. Print.
~Spenser, Edmund. The Faerie Queene. Edmund Spenser's Poetry. 3rd ed. Comps. and eds. Hugh Maclean and Anne Lake Prescott. New York: Norton, 1993. Print.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Sample Contrast Paper
Students, please find below a sample of a contrast paper, as discussed here. As with earlier papers, please keep in mind that this is a draft and therefore likely could stand to be improved upon. Also, keep in mind that when it is formatted for submission, as indicated here, it is at the higher end of acceptable paper length.
Unlike earlier examples of contrast papers I have posted, this example follows what the course textbook describes as the block pattern.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. Both Wolverine, as depicted in Ultimate X-Men, and Hida Kisada of the Legend of the Five Rings roleplaying game can be regarded as anti-heroes. Of the two, Hida Kisada is the superior example of the type.
That Wolverine of the Ultimate X-Men series of graphic novels is an iteration of the anti-hero is fairly obvious. Certainly the "hero" part is widely acknowledged. The fact that he is regarded as part of the heroic X-Men speaks to his heroic status. There are other factors in his heroism, as well. In Ultimate War, it is remarked that Wolverine had served with Allied forces in World War II. As the Allies were allied against the clearly-evil Nazis, they must be regarded as protagonists, and so Wolverine's service to those powers casts him as a hero--and one of the "Greatest Generation." In Absolute Power, Wolverine works to end the manufacture and distribution of a drug that has horrific effects on those who use it. Acting to limit the contact people have with a dangerous substance, even at personal risk (Wolverine loses a leg at one point and is subjected to the immediate effects of a large chemical explosion in the course of eliminating the substance), is typically regarded as a helpful act of bravery--in brief, the act of a hero. That Wolverine performs the act helps identify him as a hero.
He is also clearly given to evil actions. When he is introduced in the Ultimate X-Men series, it is as a highly-ranked agent in the service of Magneto, the series' main antagonist. That he is in such service (which takes the form of double-agency, with its overtones of necessarily evil betrayal) indicates early on that he is party to evil deeds, an indication reinforced by the initial graphic representation of Wolverine with hands still bloodied form killing a large reptile in close combat. Soon after, he is described as "the most dangerous killer in the world," which is hardly a pleasant image. Later in the series, in Return of the King, he leaves one of his comrades-in-arms for dead, not because of tactical necessity (which is suspect at best), but to eliminate him as a rival for the sexual attentions (not love, just carnal pleasure) of a young woman significantly his junior. That the action takes place at all casts Wolverine's morality into doubt. That it takes place to secure sexual favors clearly condemns him. That it secures those favors from a decades-younger person--one who is, in fact, still a teenager--further blackens Wolverine's character, affirming the evil actions from which Wolverine goes on to carry out heroic deeds. He is a solid example of an anti-hero.
Even so, Wolverine is not as prominent an example of an anti-hero as is Hida Kisada. Certainly, Kisada's heroism is more pronounced than is Wolverine's. As the Champion of the Crab Clan, Kisada occupies a key position in the defense of his homeland against actual demonic hordes. In Way of the Crab, it is remarked that "Since the coming of Shinsei [a major religious event], the Crab have defended Rokugan's southern border against the unholy forces of Fu Leng [the Satan-analog of the game]," and Kisada is the linchpin of that defense (8). This clearly marks him as a heroic figure, one whose every deed works to save the very souls of his countryfolk. Even more pronounced a mark of his heroism, however, is his posthumous elevation to godhood. The Vacant Throne notes that he "lived for two years with a wound that would have killed any other man instantly, and upon his death was declared the Fortune of Persistence," elevating him to the status of a minor deity as a reward for his aid in defeating Fu Leng (124). Returning to mortal life for a time, he fought against a massively powerful evil sorcerer and died only after slaying "nearly two dozen of his attackers" in his last battle (124). Upon his second death, he returned to his status as a minor god, clearly achieving a noble end to another life. He far exceeds Wolverine's heroism in doing so, for the X-Man falls far short of either defeating or attaining godhood as Kisada does.
Kisada takes a dark road to reach his brilliant end, however. Although he is sworn to fight against the forces of the underworld, he makes alliance with them during the uncertainties of civil war (Wulf, Carman, and Mason 8). That he betrays his duty is an evil act whose evil is compounded by his alliance with literally demonic forces. The evilness is further marked by Kisada's actions towards his own children in the name of that alliance. The younger of his sons "is sacrificed and placed upon the Terrible Standard of Fu Leng," and the elder "is forced to lend his name to an oni," binding his soul to a demon from the darkest pits of hell (33). It cannot be called good when a person slays one son and parades his body as a war-banner while selling the soul of the other son to a devil. Although it is certain that Wolverine commits evil deeds, his failings are as nothing compared to the depravity in which Kisada indulges. Because Hida Kisada exceeds Wolverine both in his degree of heroism and in the degree of evil he enacts before coming to that heroism, he stands as a superior example of an anti-hero.
That the lesser-known of the two characters is a clearer example of a character type than the better-known suggest that more widely disseminated ideas become less pronounced as they reach a larger audience. If the suggestion is accurate--and it will take more study to verify or deny it--it will have some decidedly negative implications for mass media.
Works Cited
~Carman, Shawn, et al. The Vacant Throne. Alderac Entertainment Group, n.d. Print.
~Coleite, Aron E. Absolute Power. Ultimate X-Men 19. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2008. Print.
~Millar, Mark. Return of the King. Ultimate X-Men 6. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2005.
~---. Ultimate War. Ultimate X-Men 5. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2005. Print.
~---. Ultimate X-Men 1. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2003. Print.
~Vaux, Rob. The Way of the Crab. Five Rings Publishing, 1999. Print.
~Wulf, Rich, Shawn Carman, and Seth Mason. Time of the Void. Alderac Entertainment Group, 2001. Print.
Unlike earlier examples of contrast papers I have posted, this example follows what the course textbook describes as the block pattern.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. Both Wolverine, as depicted in Ultimate X-Men, and Hida Kisada of the Legend of the Five Rings roleplaying game can be regarded as anti-heroes. Of the two, Hida Kisada is the superior example of the type.
That Wolverine of the Ultimate X-Men series of graphic novels is an iteration of the anti-hero is fairly obvious. Certainly the "hero" part is widely acknowledged. The fact that he is regarded as part of the heroic X-Men speaks to his heroic status. There are other factors in his heroism, as well. In Ultimate War, it is remarked that Wolverine had served with Allied forces in World War II. As the Allies were allied against the clearly-evil Nazis, they must be regarded as protagonists, and so Wolverine's service to those powers casts him as a hero--and one of the "Greatest Generation." In Absolute Power, Wolverine works to end the manufacture and distribution of a drug that has horrific effects on those who use it. Acting to limit the contact people have with a dangerous substance, even at personal risk (Wolverine loses a leg at one point and is subjected to the immediate effects of a large chemical explosion in the course of eliminating the substance), is typically regarded as a helpful act of bravery--in brief, the act of a hero. That Wolverine performs the act helps identify him as a hero.
He is also clearly given to evil actions. When he is introduced in the Ultimate X-Men series, it is as a highly-ranked agent in the service of Magneto, the series' main antagonist. That he is in such service (which takes the form of double-agency, with its overtones of necessarily evil betrayal) indicates early on that he is party to evil deeds, an indication reinforced by the initial graphic representation of Wolverine with hands still bloodied form killing a large reptile in close combat. Soon after, he is described as "the most dangerous killer in the world," which is hardly a pleasant image. Later in the series, in Return of the King, he leaves one of his comrades-in-arms for dead, not because of tactical necessity (which is suspect at best), but to eliminate him as a rival for the sexual attentions (not love, just carnal pleasure) of a young woman significantly his junior. That the action takes place at all casts Wolverine's morality into doubt. That it takes place to secure sexual favors clearly condemns him. That it secures those favors from a decades-younger person--one who is, in fact, still a teenager--further blackens Wolverine's character, affirming the evil actions from which Wolverine goes on to carry out heroic deeds. He is a solid example of an anti-hero.
Even so, Wolverine is not as prominent an example of an anti-hero as is Hida Kisada. Certainly, Kisada's heroism is more pronounced than is Wolverine's. As the Champion of the Crab Clan, Kisada occupies a key position in the defense of his homeland against actual demonic hordes. In Way of the Crab, it is remarked that "Since the coming of Shinsei [a major religious event], the Crab have defended Rokugan's southern border against the unholy forces of Fu Leng [the Satan-analog of the game]," and Kisada is the linchpin of that defense (8). This clearly marks him as a heroic figure, one whose every deed works to save the very souls of his countryfolk. Even more pronounced a mark of his heroism, however, is his posthumous elevation to godhood. The Vacant Throne notes that he "lived for two years with a wound that would have killed any other man instantly, and upon his death was declared the Fortune of Persistence," elevating him to the status of a minor deity as a reward for his aid in defeating Fu Leng (124). Returning to mortal life for a time, he fought against a massively powerful evil sorcerer and died only after slaying "nearly two dozen of his attackers" in his last battle (124). Upon his second death, he returned to his status as a minor god, clearly achieving a noble end to another life. He far exceeds Wolverine's heroism in doing so, for the X-Man falls far short of either defeating or attaining godhood as Kisada does.
Kisada takes a dark road to reach his brilliant end, however. Although he is sworn to fight against the forces of the underworld, he makes alliance with them during the uncertainties of civil war (Wulf, Carman, and Mason 8). That he betrays his duty is an evil act whose evil is compounded by his alliance with literally demonic forces. The evilness is further marked by Kisada's actions towards his own children in the name of that alliance. The younger of his sons "is sacrificed and placed upon the Terrible Standard of Fu Leng," and the elder "is forced to lend his name to an oni," binding his soul to a demon from the darkest pits of hell (33). It cannot be called good when a person slays one son and parades his body as a war-banner while selling the soul of the other son to a devil. Although it is certain that Wolverine commits evil deeds, his failings are as nothing compared to the depravity in which Kisada indulges. Because Hida Kisada exceeds Wolverine both in his degree of heroism and in the degree of evil he enacts before coming to that heroism, he stands as a superior example of an anti-hero.
That the lesser-known of the two characters is a clearer example of a character type than the better-known suggest that more widely disseminated ideas become less pronounced as they reach a larger audience. If the suggestion is accurate--and it will take more study to verify or deny it--it will have some decidedly negative implications for mass media.
Works Cited
~Carman, Shawn, et al. The Vacant Throne. Alderac Entertainment Group, n.d. Print.
~Coleite, Aron E. Absolute Power. Ultimate X-Men 19. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2008. Print.
~Millar, Mark. Return of the King. Ultimate X-Men 6. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2005.
~---. Ultimate War. Ultimate X-Men 5. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2005. Print.
~---. Ultimate X-Men 1. N. pag. New York: Marvel, 2003. Print.
~Vaux, Rob. The Way of the Crab. Five Rings Publishing, 1999. Print.
~Wulf, Rich, Shawn Carman, and Seth Mason. Time of the Void. Alderac Entertainment Group, 2001. Print.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Sample Classification Paper, Option 2
Below appears an example of a classification paper, second option, as discussed here. It treats a type of hero that is forbidden from consideration in student papers, so that it can serve as a model while not actually doing the students' work for them. Please note both that it is an early draft, and so can stand to be improved, and that it is a good length for student papers, when formatted according to stated submission guidelines here.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. On first glance, Fëanor from Tolkien's Silmarillion appears to fit the definition. In truth, he does not; he is not actually an anti-hero.
The misidentification of Fëanor as an anti-hero is unsurprising; the "hero" part of the term certainly seems easy enough to perceive at first. He is born into a position of privilege, certainly, as the eldest son of the lord of one of the three major branches of the Elvish people (Silmarillion 67). That position, the eldest son of a mighty ruler, is one usually reserved for heroes, as are the levels of skill and resolution that are attributed to him. To illustrate, Tolkien calls him "of all the Noldor [the second of the great groups of Elf-kind], then or after, the most subtle in mind and the most skilled in hand" and notes that "Few ever changed his courses by counsel, none by force" (68); both descriptions portray Fëanor as exceptional in the ways that heroes are usually exceptional. Also, his masterworks, the Silmarils, give their name to the text in which Fëanor himself is described in detail (27); that they do so seems to position Fëanor as the pivotal figure of the text, a position typically occupied by a hero.
Fëanor additionally operates by foul means, so that he appears to fulfill the "anti" portion of the term "anti-hero." He draws a sword against his half-brother in the house of his father, threatening to kill him (76); the offer of kin-slaying is an offer of ancient evil widely recognized as being such. That Fëanor makes such an offer is clearly an immoral act. That he comes to be a kin-slayer only intensifies his foul-acting nature; in pursuing a single-minded course of action, Fëanor leads his people in the slaughter of other Elves, to which some of them are akin (97-98). Leading people into iniquity is hardly a fair action, so that for Fëanor to perform it clearly situates him as undertaking an evil action. The multiple sentences of exile which are imposed upon Fëanor serve a similar function (77, 95); being twice cast out from one's birthplace and, indeed, from a paradisaical realm are easily recognizable effects of evil actions, so that the eldest son of the lord of the Noldor is marked as having done evil by being made to suffer exile.
How Fëanor fails to fulfill the role of anti-hero is that he does not achieve a fair end; despite the initial promise of heroism attached to him, he dies in failure and disgrace. That death comes as the result of a rash attempt to too-quickly fulfill a hastily sworn and poorly conceived oath. Fëanor is, at one point before his second and final exile, summoned to the capital city of the paradisaical realm in which he was born; when he answers the summons, he leaves his masterworks, the Silmarils, behind in the place where he dwelled in his exile (83). While he is in the capital city, the Satan-figure in Tolkien's work, Melkor/Morgoth, assails the exile-dwelling, slaying Fëanor's father and stealing the Silmarils as he does so (87-88). In grief at the loss of his works and of his father, Fëanor and his seven sons swear to pursue with unending hatred those who would keep the Silmarils from them, whatever power or purpose should guide them (93). Vows made in grief are not less binding, although they are usually less well planned, given the disruption of rational thought that deep sadness tends to create. The oath Fëanor and his sons swear, then, is a bad idea to begin with; it is made worse in that it is cited as the reason for the second exile (95).
Following the fallacious vow, Fëanor leads his people into Middle-earth. There, they are soon beset by the forces of Melkor/Morgoth. Although they are outnumbered, however, they manage to defeat the armies sent against them, which would bode well for Fëanor but for his own continuing folly; "Fëanor, in his wrath against the Enemy [Melkor/Morgoth], would not halt [in pursuing the retreating forces], but pressed on" (124). It is good tactics to pursue a retreating opponent when the reinforcements and fortifications toward which the retreat is headed are known and sufficient force is on hand to deal with them. This was not the case for Fëanor, however; "he drew far ahead of the van of his host; and seeing this the servants of Morgoth turned to bay, and there issued from Angband [the enemy fortress] Balrogs [demons of fire and darkness] to aid them" (124). The son of the lord of the Noldor is struck down in what should have been the moment of his victory, the victim twice-over of his own recklessness. It is not a heroic end, and so the evils that Fëanor commits are not redeemed through final heroism. Consequently, Fëanor is not an anti-hero.
There is a danger in being too eager to apply labels based on superficial readings. In works of literature, doing so leads to failed understandings of texts. In other works of art, doing so leads to other misunderstandings. In real life, doing so promotes destructive stereotypes and ethnocentrism. More attention to specific details is needed so as to prevent negative effects, which is as important as developing positive ones.
Work Cited
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. New York: Ballantine Books, 1982. Print.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. On first glance, Fëanor from Tolkien's Silmarillion appears to fit the definition. In truth, he does not; he is not actually an anti-hero.
The misidentification of Fëanor as an anti-hero is unsurprising; the "hero" part of the term certainly seems easy enough to perceive at first. He is born into a position of privilege, certainly, as the eldest son of the lord of one of the three major branches of the Elvish people (Silmarillion 67). That position, the eldest son of a mighty ruler, is one usually reserved for heroes, as are the levels of skill and resolution that are attributed to him. To illustrate, Tolkien calls him "of all the Noldor [the second of the great groups of Elf-kind], then or after, the most subtle in mind and the most skilled in hand" and notes that "Few ever changed his courses by counsel, none by force" (68); both descriptions portray Fëanor as exceptional in the ways that heroes are usually exceptional. Also, his masterworks, the Silmarils, give their name to the text in which Fëanor himself is described in detail (27); that they do so seems to position Fëanor as the pivotal figure of the text, a position typically occupied by a hero.
Fëanor additionally operates by foul means, so that he appears to fulfill the "anti" portion of the term "anti-hero." He draws a sword against his half-brother in the house of his father, threatening to kill him (76); the offer of kin-slaying is an offer of ancient evil widely recognized as being such. That Fëanor makes such an offer is clearly an immoral act. That he comes to be a kin-slayer only intensifies his foul-acting nature; in pursuing a single-minded course of action, Fëanor leads his people in the slaughter of other Elves, to which some of them are akin (97-98). Leading people into iniquity is hardly a fair action, so that for Fëanor to perform it clearly situates him as undertaking an evil action. The multiple sentences of exile which are imposed upon Fëanor serve a similar function (77, 95); being twice cast out from one's birthplace and, indeed, from a paradisaical realm are easily recognizable effects of evil actions, so that the eldest son of the lord of the Noldor is marked as having done evil by being made to suffer exile.
How Fëanor fails to fulfill the role of anti-hero is that he does not achieve a fair end; despite the initial promise of heroism attached to him, he dies in failure and disgrace. That death comes as the result of a rash attempt to too-quickly fulfill a hastily sworn and poorly conceived oath. Fëanor is, at one point before his second and final exile, summoned to the capital city of the paradisaical realm in which he was born; when he answers the summons, he leaves his masterworks, the Silmarils, behind in the place where he dwelled in his exile (83). While he is in the capital city, the Satan-figure in Tolkien's work, Melkor/Morgoth, assails the exile-dwelling, slaying Fëanor's father and stealing the Silmarils as he does so (87-88). In grief at the loss of his works and of his father, Fëanor and his seven sons swear to pursue with unending hatred those who would keep the Silmarils from them, whatever power or purpose should guide them (93). Vows made in grief are not less binding, although they are usually less well planned, given the disruption of rational thought that deep sadness tends to create. The oath Fëanor and his sons swear, then, is a bad idea to begin with; it is made worse in that it is cited as the reason for the second exile (95).
Following the fallacious vow, Fëanor leads his people into Middle-earth. There, they are soon beset by the forces of Melkor/Morgoth. Although they are outnumbered, however, they manage to defeat the armies sent against them, which would bode well for Fëanor but for his own continuing folly; "Fëanor, in his wrath against the Enemy [Melkor/Morgoth], would not halt [in pursuing the retreating forces], but pressed on" (124). It is good tactics to pursue a retreating opponent when the reinforcements and fortifications toward which the retreat is headed are known and sufficient force is on hand to deal with them. This was not the case for Fëanor, however; "he drew far ahead of the van of his host; and seeing this the servants of Morgoth turned to bay, and there issued from Angband [the enemy fortress] Balrogs [demons of fire and darkness] to aid them" (124). The son of the lord of the Noldor is struck down in what should have been the moment of his victory, the victim twice-over of his own recklessness. It is not a heroic end, and so the evils that Fëanor commits are not redeemed through final heroism. Consequently, Fëanor is not an anti-hero.
There is a danger in being too eager to apply labels based on superficial readings. In works of literature, doing so leads to failed understandings of texts. In other works of art, doing so leads to other misunderstandings. In real life, doing so promotes destructive stereotypes and ethnocentrism. More attention to specific details is needed so as to prevent negative effects, which is as important as developing positive ones.
Work Cited
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. New York: Ballantine Books, 1982. Print.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sample Classification Paper, Option 1
Below appears an example of a classification paper, first option, as discussed here. It treats a type of hero that is forbidden from consideration in student papers, so that it can serve as a model while not actually doing the students' work for them. Please note both that it is an early draft, and so can stand to be improved, and that it is on the short end of acceptable length for student papers, when formatted according to stated submission guidelines here.
Also, I am well aware that I give Le Morte d'Arthur where the source I reference gives Le Mort d'Arthur. The spelling of the title varies from edition to edition, as is evident here, and I use the one with which I am most familiar.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. Typically, the Arthurian knight Sir Gawain is not lumped in with such figures as stand to define the anti-hero type. A close examination of his attributes, however, reveals that he very much fits the model.
As a knight of the Round Table, the highest order of traditional chivalry in English-language literature, and a close kinsman of King Arthur, the legendary paragon of royal virtues, Sir Gawain would be expected to be a fairly common sort of hero. A common image of the Arthurian knight is one of an ennobled warrior riding a white horse while wearing shining armor. He (and it is almost always a he) is seen rescuing maidens from unjust captivity and battling against evil creatures given to laying waste to the peaceful countryside and its population of simple farmers who would otherwise sing merrily as they go about their honest work of tilling fields and husbanding livestock.
Sir Gawain falls short of that standard. For example, in Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, the standard text of English-language Arthurian legend, Gawain errs gravely in his first mission as a knight in Arthur's service. He moves to slay a knight who was attempting to yield himself, actively denying the plea despite the fact that "a Knight that is without mercy, is without worship [sic]"; he intemperately kills the knight's lady, instead, as he is unable to check his sword-swing when she throws herself over her knight in an attempt to protect him--"he smote off her head by misadventure" (Malory 1.119). In failing to show mercy to a foe who had conceded defeat, and in failing to control his martial abilities, particularly as they befell a noblewoman, Gawain violates the Round Table Oath to which all those of the high chivalric order were sworn not just at their induction, but annually (1.134). Violating one's sworn oath is generally regarded as an action good people do not perform; neither is killing those who have yielded or who are not in a position to defend themselves. Gawain's commission of both acts is marked as evil.
Even so, Sir Gawain does manage to meet his end well. When his brothers, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, are killed by Sir Lancelot as he rescues Queen Guinevere from being burned at the stake, Gawain vows vengeance upon him (3.312). Given the dictates of the warrior culture in which all four lived, it is a wholly appropriate response, the more so because Gawain is the eldest brother and therefore the patriarch of the Orkney royal household; Gawain's actions thus read as well performed. He does eventually have the opportunity to attempt that vengeance, and fights against Sir Lancelot, receiving a head-wound in the process. Complications from that injury lead to Gawain's death. On his death-bed, though, he forgives his recent foeman, absolving him of guilt for his death; "I Sir Gawain, Knight of the Round Table, sought my death, and not through thy deserving, but it was mine own seeking." He recalls the greater good of Arthur's realm above his own personal vendetta; "come over the sea in all the haste that thou mayest, with thy noble Knights, and rescue my noble King that made thee Knight, that is my lord and uncle, King Arthur." He even refers to Lancelot as "Flower of all noble Knights that ever I heard or saw in my days," which is high praise (3.350-52). Gawain dies as a result of performing his duties, which is admirable, and he forgives his enemies as he dies, which is the mark of a particularly noble soul. He ends his life in line with the promise of his chivalric calling. He passes on as a hero.
That the Arthurian Sir Gawain functions as an anti-hero becomes obvious upon consideration of his knightly career in Malory's depiction. Since Le Morte d'Arthur occupies a position of singular importance in English-language Arthurian legend, serving as the primary reference text for it, its portrayals of the knights of the Round Table and their deeds underpin much other writing in the English language and indeed of productions in other media. The anti-hero that figures so prominently in many of them is thereby shown to have much older iterations than is commonly realized, showing that what goes on now is very much of a piece with what has gone on for a long, long time. It illustrates that our past can yet teach us much about our present selves.
Work Cited
Malory, Thomas. La Mort D’Arthur. Ed. Joseph Haslewood. 3 vols. London: R. Wilks, 1816. Print.
Also, I am well aware that I give Le Morte d'Arthur where the source I reference gives Le Mort d'Arthur. The spelling of the title varies from edition to edition, as is evident here, and I use the one with which I am most familiar.
The anti-hero can be defined as a character who achieves heroic ends by carrying out actions that are themselves generally considered evil; they attain fair ends by foul means. Typically, the Arthurian knight Sir Gawain is not lumped in with such figures as stand to define the anti-hero type. A close examination of his attributes, however, reveals that he very much fits the model.
As a knight of the Round Table, the highest order of traditional chivalry in English-language literature, and a close kinsman of King Arthur, the legendary paragon of royal virtues, Sir Gawain would be expected to be a fairly common sort of hero. A common image of the Arthurian knight is one of an ennobled warrior riding a white horse while wearing shining armor. He (and it is almost always a he) is seen rescuing maidens from unjust captivity and battling against evil creatures given to laying waste to the peaceful countryside and its population of simple farmers who would otherwise sing merrily as they go about their honest work of tilling fields and husbanding livestock.
Sir Gawain falls short of that standard. For example, in Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, the standard text of English-language Arthurian legend, Gawain errs gravely in his first mission as a knight in Arthur's service. He moves to slay a knight who was attempting to yield himself, actively denying the plea despite the fact that "a Knight that is without mercy, is without worship [sic]"; he intemperately kills the knight's lady, instead, as he is unable to check his sword-swing when she throws herself over her knight in an attempt to protect him--"he smote off her head by misadventure" (Malory 1.119). In failing to show mercy to a foe who had conceded defeat, and in failing to control his martial abilities, particularly as they befell a noblewoman, Gawain violates the Round Table Oath to which all those of the high chivalric order were sworn not just at their induction, but annually (1.134). Violating one's sworn oath is generally regarded as an action good people do not perform; neither is killing those who have yielded or who are not in a position to defend themselves. Gawain's commission of both acts is marked as evil.
Even so, Sir Gawain does manage to meet his end well. When his brothers, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, are killed by Sir Lancelot as he rescues Queen Guinevere from being burned at the stake, Gawain vows vengeance upon him (3.312). Given the dictates of the warrior culture in which all four lived, it is a wholly appropriate response, the more so because Gawain is the eldest brother and therefore the patriarch of the Orkney royal household; Gawain's actions thus read as well performed. He does eventually have the opportunity to attempt that vengeance, and fights against Sir Lancelot, receiving a head-wound in the process. Complications from that injury lead to Gawain's death. On his death-bed, though, he forgives his recent foeman, absolving him of guilt for his death; "I Sir Gawain, Knight of the Round Table, sought my death, and not through thy deserving, but it was mine own seeking." He recalls the greater good of Arthur's realm above his own personal vendetta; "come over the sea in all the haste that thou mayest, with thy noble Knights, and rescue my noble King that made thee Knight, that is my lord and uncle, King Arthur." He even refers to Lancelot as "Flower of all noble Knights that ever I heard or saw in my days," which is high praise (3.350-52). Gawain dies as a result of performing his duties, which is admirable, and he forgives his enemies as he dies, which is the mark of a particularly noble soul. He ends his life in line with the promise of his chivalric calling. He passes on as a hero.
That the Arthurian Sir Gawain functions as an anti-hero becomes obvious upon consideration of his knightly career in Malory's depiction. Since Le Morte d'Arthur occupies a position of singular importance in English-language Arthurian legend, serving as the primary reference text for it, its portrayals of the knights of the Round Table and their deeds underpin much other writing in the English language and indeed of productions in other media. The anti-hero that figures so prominently in many of them is thereby shown to have much older iterations than is commonly realized, showing that what goes on now is very much of a piece with what has gone on for a long, long time. It illustrates that our past can yet teach us much about our present selves.
Work Cited
Malory, Thomas. La Mort D’Arthur. Ed. Joseph Haslewood. 3 vols. London: R. Wilks, 1816. Print.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Sample Summary
What appears below is excerpted and slightly adapted from another blog I maintain.
Tamar Lewin's September 12, 2011, article "Student Loan Default Rates Rise Sharply in Past Year" appeared in the online New York Times. In the article, Lewin notes that there have been larger numbers of students failing to make their required student loan repayments, particularly at for-profit colleges, which largely serve low-income students and are the fastest-growing portion of the college population. Lewin makes mention of gainful employment regulations and of the ability of students to opt for income-based repayment plans, which does ameliorate the depressing tone of the article and makes it a bit more effective a piece of reporting.
Tamar Lewin's September 12, 2011, article "Student Loan Default Rates Rise Sharply in Past Year" appeared in the online New York Times. In the article, Lewin notes that there have been larger numbers of students failing to make their required student loan repayments, particularly at for-profit colleges, which largely serve low-income students and are the fastest-growing portion of the college population. Lewin makes mention of gainful employment regulations and of the ability of students to opt for income-based repayment plans, which does ameliorate the depressing tone of the article and makes it a bit more effective a piece of reporting.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The Fall 2011 Term Begins
Today, the Fall 2011 term began at the technical college where I work. My teaching schedule is not quite what I had expected, but it is a good one, and I am eager to begin upon it.
I find that this time, I do not have nearly so much of the nervousness that I have in past terms had at getting new sets of students to work with. Part of this, I think, is my increasing familiarity with the job and its demands; this is my eighth term at the technical college, the fourth as a full-time instructor, and my fifth year of teaching at the college level, generally. I am still young in the career, but I am not an untutored novice stepping into the front of the classroom for the first time.
Part also is that I have given much thought to the way in which I teach. I am happy to work with students who are also willing to work, and I am not going to waste time with those students who are not. Willingness to work has nothing to do with age, gender and orientation, racial/ethnic background, religious position, or socio-economic status, as I have long maintained.
No, what I do is offer guidance and direction to my students, showing them that the things I do can be done with enthusiasm and enjoyment--but that it is not easy to get to the point where they can be enjoyed. Practice, practice, practice, and more practice, with evaluation and criticism of performance are needed to get to the point where attention to the niggling mechanics is no longer necessary and the greater questions of when and how to deploy techniques can be addressed. In short, it takes a long time with the dull, repetitive work on fundamentals before sufficient competence can be achieved to have fun with things. And it is boring to go over a basic concept again and again and again...but that does not make it unnecessary.
It is a tacit lesson underlying much of my teaching.
I find that this time, I do not have nearly so much of the nervousness that I have in past terms had at getting new sets of students to work with. Part of this, I think, is my increasing familiarity with the job and its demands; this is my eighth term at the technical college, the fourth as a full-time instructor, and my fifth year of teaching at the college level, generally. I am still young in the career, but I am not an untutored novice stepping into the front of the classroom for the first time.
Part also is that I have given much thought to the way in which I teach. I am happy to work with students who are also willing to work, and I am not going to waste time with those students who are not. Willingness to work has nothing to do with age, gender and orientation, racial/ethnic background, religious position, or socio-economic status, as I have long maintained.
No, what I do is offer guidance and direction to my students, showing them that the things I do can be done with enthusiasm and enjoyment--but that it is not easy to get to the point where they can be enjoyed. Practice, practice, practice, and more practice, with evaluation and criticism of performance are needed to get to the point where attention to the niggling mechanics is no longer necessary and the greater questions of when and how to deploy techniques can be addressed. In short, it takes a long time with the dull, repetitive work on fundamentals before sufficient competence can be achieved to have fun with things. And it is boring to go over a basic concept again and again and again...but that does not make it unnecessary.
It is a tacit lesson underlying much of my teaching.
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