Final Thoughts on Memoirs of a Geisha

I’ve finished my outside reading book, Memoirs of a Geisha, for about a week now, but I wanted to reflect on the quality of Golden’s work and what I thought about the novel. Overall, my sentiments towards the end of the novel are quite conflicting. Even though I wasn’t necessarily disappointed with the ending, I wasn’t quite satisfied either. I’m not in accord with the way Golden decided to portray Sayuri’s decision to end things with Nobu, which was completely unexpected.

I guess I found it difficult to put myself in Sayuri’s shoes, because she is so in love with the Chairman that she is desperate to do anything, at whatever cost (such as pretending to sleep with the minister only to infuriate Nobu), to prevent Nobu from declaring herself as her danna. I understand Sayuri’s emotionally-torn state, but I kind empathize with Nobu because he is a man who is hard to please, yet he professes his love to Sayuri (in an extremely subtle way) despite his seemingly cold and heartless character. Nobu explains, with difficulty, to Sayuri that he doesn’t “much like geisha…But [he’s] always felt that [Sayuri] isn’t exactly like all the others” (Golden 386), which for Nobu, is a big deal, considering how unemotional and unexpressive he usually is. At the same time, however, I understand what Sayuri feels. The Chairman is the only man who showed her compassion and tenderness before she was a geisha. He’s the only man who truly sees the beauty in her soul, which is an extremely unique and rare quality to find in someone. Thus, I understand why Sayuri would feel such an urge to be with the Chairman; after all she’s been through, she deserves to be happy with a man who showed her kindness when her world seemed to be deprived of any scrap of joy or positivity.

The conversation between the Chairman and Sayuri in Chapter 34 is really touching and wonderful, as Sayuri confesses to the Chairman that everything she has done has been “because of [her] feelings for the Chairman. Every step [she has] taken in [her] life since [she] was a child in Gion, has been in the hope of bringing [herself] closer to the [Chairman]” (416), which embodies the whole scope of Sayuri’s journey throughout the novel. The Chairman was there before her transition from a caterpillar to a butterfly, he is the one who led her to her destiny, not Nobu, not the General, and certainly not “Dr. Crabs.” It was always the Chairman, even from the beginning, so much so that Sayuri felt “such a longing to turn to the Chairman and ask if he recalled a day several years ago when he’d shown kindness to a young girl” (205), the very first time she sees him at the sumo wrestling match. The fact that it took years for Sayuri to work up the courage to let the Chairman know her true feelings demonstrates the depth of her love and passion for the man, since if [she were] to have a rescuer, [she] wanted it to be the Chairman and no one else” (208). This quote also emphasizes the aspect of the damsel in distress archetype that we repeatedly see emerge in Sayuri’s character throughout the novel. However, in the end, Sayuri breaks free from this confining role (when she quits being a geisha) and the burden of her “destiny,” by becoming the Chairman’s mistress, and ultimately fulfilling her goal to self-discovery and independence.

The Tragic Hero Archetype in Hamlet

This week, the author Jackson Pierce came to speak to us about archetypes and the various molds that characters in novels may fall into. During her presentation, I was contemplating the relevance of Hamlet’s role as an archetype, and what he truly represents as an individual in the play… which could be several, considering how complex his character is and how it encompasses so many diverse notions. For one, Hamlet can be rendered as the tragic hero in the play (which is a tragedy) for numerous reasons that pertain to his characters nature and the conflicts (internal and external) that he endures throughout.

At the beginning of the play, Hamlet is presented with an extremely burdensome, exacting, and tough task that visibly takes a toll on Hamlet's sanity and reason. He must face the decision of killing his uncle in an act of vengeance for the sake of his late father. However, for the first two Acts, we see Hamlet struggle with the thought of killing Claudius, his uncle, whom he considers to be a "bloody, bawdy villain” (2.2.607). Despite the fact that Hamlet undoubtedly possesses the profound ambition and motive to carry out this grueling responsibility, he cannot get past his encumbering thoughts and reasoning. It is Hamlet’s vast intelligence and hesitance that gets the best of him, and prevents his powerful emotions from overriding his conscience. Thus, in Hamlet’s character, we can clearly detect a hint of uncertainty and doubt which deeply troubles Hamlet as he becomes torn between his righteous fate and his moral obligation to his uncle.

Like a typical tragic hero, he embarks on a quest to avenge his father’s death, as he must make a tough decision that holds no insight for what the future may hold. Essentially, Hamlet’s fate and predetermined destiny is his tragic flaw that further shapes him as a tragic hero, and what will ultimately be the premise of his death. The concept of the tragic hero archetype usually consists of a character who undergoes a “change of fortune,” which in this case, would be the late King Hamlet’s ghost imparting Hamlet with the duty of avenging his death, which completely alters Hamlet’s life from “good to bad.” Moreover, according to Aristotle, a tragic hero is one who has committed a “great wrong leading to his misfortune,” which for Hamlet, might be the secret love affair between Ophelia and him (which may have resulted in Ophelia’s pregnancy). Also, the tragic hero must also encounter some free choice, in which he must “choose one course of action over another.” In Hamlet, Hamlet’s free choice is deciding whether or not to kill Claudius. He must make the ultimate decision on his own, and what he ultimately chooses to do will determine whether or not the play will end in his demise.

So far in this play, we have come across many aspects of the tragic hero archetype that are applicable to the character of Hamlet in Shakespeare’s play. I am anxious to read the rest of the play in order to see how the tragic hero archetype manifests itself throughout the rest of the play.

Shakespeare's Hamlet: Strange Occurences in Act 2

This week in class we are reading and examining Act 2 of Hamlet, and so far it has been incredibly intense and action-packed as the plot continues to mount. Thus far, there have been recurring ideas of deception, spying, obedience, suspicion, uncertainty, and underlying financial implications. Scene 1 of this act opens with this evident notion of obscurity and espionage. The tense mood that is evoked in this scene basically emulates and foreshadows the following instances of meddling and prying that is bound to arise later on in Act 2.

In scene 1, Polonius orders Reynaldo to spy on Laertes, which once again puts emphasis on the concept of subservience and fulfilling one’s duty (especially on Reynaldo’s part), while Polonius’s actions also exemplify the intrusive and meddlesome aspect of the scene. Additionally, in this first scene, there are also questions regarding honor and trust, as Polonius encourages Reynaldo to be devious in order to “expose” the truth about Laertes’ acquaintances. This actually reveals Polonius as a pitiful and cowardly character, since he is willing to go to extreme and desperate lengths in order to pry into his son’s life instead of just confronting his son face-to-face like a real man.

Moreover, Polonius’s manner towards his daughter Ophelia is also very strange and unloving. However, this is briefly contradicted when Polonius apologizes to Ophelia if he could have potentially provoking Hamlet’s erratic and peculiar behavior and madness when he says “I am sorry that with better heed and judgment I had not coted him” (2.1.124-125). In general though, Polonius kind of treats his daughter like a plaything, especially when he says “I’ll loose my daughter to him” (2.2.176) in scene 2, as if she is an animal to be unleashed or some inanimate object. Perhaps this is another indication of the controversy between what “seems” and what “is.” Is Polonius truly sorry for causing Hamlet’s madness, or does he want to seem sorry? As of now, Polonius’s obscure motives remain somewhat unclear.

On another note, Claudius and the Queen also exhibit signs of deceit and dishonesty when they ask Guildenstern and Rosencrantz to keep an eye on Hamlet because they are “concerned” for him. Hamlet’s bizarre and inexplicable behavior has made the Queen and Claudius worried for Hamlet’s well-being, or so it seems. In truth, I believe the Queen and Claudius are hiding a dark secret, like maybe some secret past love affair that they are bothered Hamlet might discover. I think they are onto Hamlet, and they want to keep him under surveillance in order to ensure that he doesn’t do anything to harm their reputation. After all, the queen has no doubt that Hamlet’s troubles have been triggered by “his father’s death and [their] o’erhasty marriage” (2.2.60), which we know as the audience isn’t completely true. I believe Hamlet’s actual train of thought and motives for acting mad and unusual will be revealed later on, but for now, I suspect that Hamlet is fully aware of his parents’s plans and that he intends on continuing this odd act until he’s ready to avenge his father’s death.