Grendel: The True Character of a Gruesome Monster

Overall, I think Grendel by John Gardner is truly a compelling novel that is truly engaging and captivating in its entirety.  I am most definitely a fan of this novel because Gardner’s Grendel never fails to surprise me or shock me continuously. Although many of the philosophies presented throughout the book are exceptionally complex and oftentimes perplexing, Gardner’s writing style definitely engages me to think outside the box and to read between the lines in order to discern the meaning of the novel, just as Grendel is trying to discern the meaning of the universe and his role in it.

With that said, there are many aspects of the novel that are worth addressing such as Grendel’s constantly transforming thoughts and impressions about art. The role of art and the artist in the novel is largely significant throughout the text as Grendel jumps back and forth between the dragon’s ideals and mankind’s enduring beliefs. I think it is so interesting that Grendel falls somewhere between humanity and in a sense, godliness. It is definitely no coincidence that Grendel possesses this impenetrable charm in Ch. 6 that renders him invincible in a way, like God. Throughout the novel, we get the sense that Grendel is just trying to understand the world and how it works, and where he belongs in it, just on a whole other level. We see Grendel still trying to define himself in comparison to humans and their world, then in contrast to the dragon and the infinite universe, then in terms of Grendel himself as a mechanical creature…an animal.

The shift in Grendel’s notions and philosophies regarding his own existence are evident throughout the novel. Initially, Grendel has no concept of the world outside his own mother, who to him, is the source of his being. It is not until Grendel’s monumental realization of his independence (when he gets stuck in the tree in Ch. 2) that we see his impressions of the world transform and modify. Soon enough, Grendel comes to realize the “meaningless objectness of the world, the universal bruteness” of it (Gardner 28). Grendel gradually develops his theory of solipsism, in which he is convinced that only he exists and that everything around him is merely a fabrication of his own mind, and nonexistent.

However, after a brief lapse in Grendel’s notion of good vs. evil through the Shaper’s persuasive art, Grendel’s beliefs quickly change when Grendel encounters the dragon in Ch. 5 (which is arguably his own unconscious mind). After his encounter with the dragon, Grendel is convinced of the dragon’s belief that the duration of time ceases to prolong the importance of things that are important now.  The dragon alters Grendel’s beliefs from being primarily based on solipsism to now centering on nihilism and the idea that everything is unimportant and doomed to perish eventually in the grand scheme of things. This theory resonates with Grendel for a long time (especially throughout Ch. 7), as he progressively builds on the dragon’s ideas and comes to many realizations of his own.

Eventually, he comes to assume his role as the ultimate monster and destroyer of society…he accepts his role as the enemy, the ruiner, the cursed creature. Although Grendel’s notions of art continue to develop incredibly fast throughout chapter 9 and 10, he is still somehow bound to humanity through this mutual recognition of art and its impact.

John Gardner's Monstrous Creation: Grendel

After our brief introduction to John Gardner’s contemporary fiction novel, Grendel, I was curious to see how (according to Gardner) fiction should truly be written: with a purpose. Initially, I did not really regard Gardner to be the gentlest of people, considering that he bashed the majority of fiction writers by degrading their works and everything they have ever achieved in their lifetime. However, after reading the first couple chapters of Grendel, I’m kind of starting to see the more sympathetic side of Gardner and the regret and guilt he felt due to his liability in his brother’s unprecedented death.

Truthfully, I do not blame Gardner for defending his beliefs that fiction should solely be life-affirming and significant, not meaningless and empty. Although I admit he could have been a little less harsh and disrespectful to other writers, his genuine concern for the importance and profound meaning of fiction actually seems valid. With that said, I think it is perfectly acceptable to have any form of fictional work whether it is momentous or not. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and interpretations of fictional merit, but for some reason I can’t help but agree with Gardner in his declaration that a worthwhile piece of literature is so much more inspirational and encouraging to readers than a work of fiction that possesses no relevance to real life at all.

In any case, I am thoroughly enjoying his concoction of the “evil” creature Grendel, who is frequently considered to be an abominable monster who wreaks havoc upon the innocent residents of Denmark in the epic Beowulf. I love the fact that Gardner explores Grendel’s side of the story as an outsider who struggles to discern the meaning of life and his purpose in the universe. I think Gardner makes Grendel’s character very relatable on many levels (which seems highly unexpected actually), as he considers himself an ugly, worthless, detested, and  undesirable creature who has no meaning or sense of belonging in the world. Grendel is a very self-loathing and insecure monster who calls himself a “ridiculous hairy creature” (Gardner 44), who oftentimes cannot bear the existence of other “natural things” like humans (Gardner 8), specifically the Danes.

I found it extremely significant to note that Gardner choses to develop Grendel’s character almost as an equal and an opposite to mankind. This is because Grendel shares a common language with humans, but his efforts to communicate remain futile, as the humans neglect to understand the creature. At the same time, Grendel’s feelings and emotional states also resembles that of humans, such as sentiments of loneliness, despair, pain, and fear. Furthermore, Grendel’s similarities with humans are only overshadowed by their differences that seem to thwart Grendel’s endeavors to befriend them. Thus, as Grendel struggles to discover his identity and role in this chaotic world, we see Gardner unravel the true nature of a lost and self-doubting soul who seeks to discover a sense of community and belonging to the world.

The Hero's Journey (the Joseph Campbell version)

Today we were briefly introduced to the scope of the hero’s journey and how this encompasses a prevalent and common archetype in countless myths, even from the beginning of time (from the time when the Epic of Gilgamesh was engraved on stone tablets, as Mrs. Clinch says). I found John Campbell’s profound interpretation of this hero’s journey to be extremely enlightening and noteworthy, as I can now see this depiction of the archetypal hero in pop culture’s most epic stories such as Star Wars and Harry Potter in a way I never have before. Campbell’s theory regarding the explicit stages which a typical hero undergoes is referenced in The Hero with a Thousand Faces, the book that Campbell wrote in order to accentuate the connection between modern psychology and a more thorough understanding of ancient mythology. I think this depiction of a true hero is already so commonly accepted in society (like Christ) that we don’t even realize its significance until it is clearly presented to us in the form of a set structure or “sequence of events” if you will.

For instance, how many die-hard Harry Potter fans immediately recognize Dobby as a helper/amulet (one of the stages of the hero’s journey) in Harry’s heroic adventure? Or that Dumbledore is the wise old mentor who serves as the source of courage and wisdom for Harry? Or that Hagrid is technically the herald in the hero’s journey, as he is the one who brings the call to adventure by telling Harry he is a wizard, opening up the possibilities of a whole new realm of existence (wizarding world)? Perhaps initially we don’t identify Professor Lupin as a shapeshifter, Draco Malfoy as one of the threshold guardians, or Voldemort as the shadow, but once we are presented with these ideas, it is much easier to distinguish and associate the characters to the typical archetypes of a hero’s journey.

In the interview with Joseph Campbell that we watched in class, Campbell explains the duration of the hero’s journey as something of a cycle, in which the hero must ultimately make a massive sacrifice for the sake and of others, whether that be spiritually or physically, in order to undergo this heroic transformation to consciousness and understanding. In some aspects, the hero’s journey is comprised of many psychological references and concepts. The hero/heroine not only must face physical obstacles and impediments he/she is presented with such as a monster or a dark force, but he/she must also learn to overcome his/her inherent and mental  obstructions such as fear and a dramatic, unanticipated change. It is not until one discovers and overcomes one’s internal conflict of opposing feelings and thoughts that one can truly achieve some great deed that renders one a hero.

In addition to the psychological realization that a hero must endure, Campbell addresses other various aspects of the hero’s journey in the interview, such as the three stages usually contained within all myths: departure, fulfillment/initiation, and return, which together epitomize the entire span of the hero’s journey. Campbell emphasizes the importance of these three crucial points of the hero’s journey as they essentially structure the entire course of the hero’s journey.

Overall, I think Joseph Campbell’s depiction of the hero’s journey is extremely interesting and meaningful, and I look forward to applying these concepts in our analysis of literary works. J

Shutter Island vs. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Despite the fact that I have been so incredibly busy and overwhelmed with homework this week, I still managed to take a little time for myself to watch a movie. So, instead of the usual comedy or typical cliché drama, I decided to with a mystery/psychological thriller: Shutter Island. Not only did this suspenseful and perplexing film immediately spark my interest in its ominous and eerie nature, but it also displayed some similar qualities as the novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey.

Appropriately titled, this movie is about a U.S. marshal, Teddy Daniels, and his partner Chuck Aule, who travel to Ashecliff Hospital on Shutter Island to investigate the disappearance of a criminally insane patient, Rachel Solando. Shortly after their arrival on this ghostly and foreboding island, Teddy finds himself questioning the strange doctors who are in charge of the hospital and its mentally-ill prisoners, including the psychiatrist Dr. John Cawley, who seems very suspicious from the start. In an effort to solve this mysterious case, Teddy finds himself trapped on the island by a violent storm, as he becomes conflicted with disturbing instances of his past as a former WWII veteran, while also suffering from delusions of his deceased wife Dolores, whom he believes was killed by a man named Andrew Laeddis. The tension mounts when Teddy finds himself discovering clues to the mystery of Rachel Solando and what he believes to be the secret conspiracies behind the hospital’s classified experiments. As the thrilling plot unravels, Teddy’s paranoia grows until he is ultimately faced with the truth behind his past as he begins to question everyone and everything on this island—including his own sanity.

Like this creepy and riveting movie, Cuckoo’s Nest possesses a similar mental hospital setting that seems to drive the characters more insane and psychotic than they were to begin with. Although Shutter Island and Cuckoo’s Nest encompass very different plots and themes, there are still some prevalent parallels between the two works.

First of all, the main characters, Teddy in Shutter Island and Randle McMurphy in Cuckoo’s Nest, both seem to be rather sane and rational initially, until they are somehow forced into confinement at a mental hospital, as they are surrounded with patients who are mentally-ill (and prisoners in Teddy’s case). In this respect, I think many aspects of Cuckoo’s Nest resemble those of the film as well, except that the movie is much darker and more peculiar than the novel. In any case, the chief of the hospital in Shutter Island, Dr. Cawley, is much like Nurse Ratched, the oppressive and heartless woman who demands authority and runs the mental hospital in Cuckoo’s Nest. Both of these characters come off as though they are trying to help the patients recover, when in reality, they are both secretly tormenting the patients through their domineering and manipulative ways.

Additionally, in both the book and the movie, the two main characters undergo some form of self-realization and personality change that both mount to completely unexpected plot twists, thus altering the endings. In the movie, Teddy is essentially on the path of self-discovery, as he is forced to accept that he is Andrew Laeddis, his wife’s murderer, and that he is actually one of the disturbed and psychotic patients of Ashecliff Hospital. This surprising and completely unexpected plot twist led me to reconsider and question the whole movie, as I did for Cuckoo’s Nest, when McMurphy is forcibly lobotomized under Nurse Ratched’s orders, for his rebellion and aggressive behavior, in a final effort to exert her tyrannical powers and authority over McMurphy. In both cases, the movie and the novel, the main characters undergo a prefrontal lobotomy in the end, which ultimately symbolizes the demise and the defeat of both Teddy Daniels and Randle McMurphy.

Short Story Analysis: Reflection on My Paper

Overall, I am pretty pleased with my short story analysis paper on “Teenage Wasteland” by Anne Tyler. I do think, however, that there are some weaknesses throughout my paper that could have been avoided altogether. Throughout my paper, I tend to resort to the emphasis on Cal’s corrupt character rather than effectively demonstrating the “loss of innocence in vulnerable youths” through Donny's character. I could have incorporated more analysis on Tyler's characterization of Donny in addition to Cal, in order to capture the meaning of the work as a whole, in terms of Tyler’s “so what.”

Also, I agree that I need more support to substantiate my claim about Cal’s destructive influence on Donny in the story, and how that ultimately manifests in Donny’s escape/downfall. I also need support for proving the “cracked foundation” of the Coble family because I neglected to provide evidence of the tension between Donny and his parents. In my argument about Donny’s compliance to evil and Cal’s “teenage wasteland,” I was very vague about how Donny’s corruption came to be. For example, in my third paragraph (second body paragraph), I discuss Donny’s “submission to sin and corruption,” but I don’t go into detail about how this is done or when this takes place. I could’ve used the example when Daisy is notified of Donny’s progressing unsatisfactory performance in school which occurs under Cal’s supervision and “mentoring.”There are many instances throughout the text that can corroborate this negative influence that Cal has on Donny throughout the story.

Additionally, most of the comments I received on my paper addressed the insufficient and lack of support/evidence that I need in order to fully develop my idea and to prove my thesis. I was unable to effectively demonstrate Cal’s motives in the grand scheme of things, and how that exactly leads to Donny’s corruption. I agree with Mrs. Clinch, there are many gaps, or loose ends that need to be tied, in my story, which I could have probably easily done just simply by using more TEXT SUPPORT! I think I could’ve done such a better job in tying my claims back to my thesis and Tyler’s “so what.” I don’t know why I was reluctant to include more evidence throughout my paper because it does seem like I am making assumptions about Cal’s rapacious nature just by notciting more text.

For the most part, I wrote more about “what” and failed to acknowledge the “how” in the story. I needed to address HOW Cal is manipulative and HOW Donny losses his innocence, not just that he did. I make a lot of unconvincing and inadequate statements regarding Cal’s character throughout my paper without actually proving HOW he is like a vampire. I merely accused Cal of being one without actually proving it, or his motives in that case. In effect, I agree that I had a great argument and interesting assertions, but I should have put more focus on how my claims can be seen in Tyler’s story.

"The Unreturning" by Wilfred Owen (Happy Halloween!)

I thought I might take the pleasure in dedicating this blog post to the fast-approaching holiday, Halloween! What better way to do so than with the discussion of a completely Halloween-appropriate, creepy, and haunting poem? Thus, in honor of the scariest night of the year, I have chosen the poem, “The Unreturning,” by Wilfred Owen. This eerie poem contains an abundance of frightening imagery and spine-chilling literary devices that render it quite suitable for Halloween.

On that note, Owen’s spooky poem begins with a strange description of the night as it “crushed out the day and hurled her remnants over cloud-peaks, thunder-walled” (1-2), clearly implying the extent to which the night seemingly viciously and violently conquers the clearly vulnerable day. Owen’s use of the words “crushed” and “hurled” evoke a sense of ferociousness and cruelty in its connotation as he personifies the night and its act of aggressiveness towards the daytime, which has a positive and cheerful connotation.  In addition to this blunt contrast between night and day, Owen goes on to say that a “stillness such as harks appalled when far-gone dead return upon the world” fell upon the dead of night (3-4). This chilling line suggests that perhaps the dead are bound to return in the dead of night, which seems to be foreshadowed by the stillness of the night.

Thus, Owen intensifies the terrifying nature of this scene as it says “there watched I for the Dead; but no ghost woke” (5), introducing us to the narrator, who seems to anticipate the rise of the Dead. The poem delves into the narrator’s perspective, in which the narrator remarks that “each one whom Life exiled I named and called. But they were all too far, or dumbed or thrilled, and never one fared back to me or spoke” (6-8).  The voiceless dead and the emptiness that fills the poet echo the desolation that the narrator internally feels as he calls out the names of the dead, but they remain unresponsive. The narrator’s seemingly despondent and longing nature exhibits the inherent desire that the narrator has in calling out to the dead. However, I can’t seem to understand why he summons the dead, and why are they uncommunicative and silent? Also, what interest does he have in those “whom Life exiled”? I can only assume that the narrator himself feels abandoned and forgotten by Life itself, thus, he seeks comfort in the Dead, who have also endured a similar sense of neglect and abandonment. However, the dead are out of reach for the narrator, they cannot answer his call of what seems to be desperation.

Nevertheless, Owen goes on to depict this thought that clouds the narrator’s mind when “then peered the indefinite unshapen dawn with vacant gloaming, sad as half-lit minds” (9-10), clearly undermining the narrator’s certainty. The hesitant and looming dawn that creeps up almost mirrors the narrator’s state of mind. The narrator seems to be conflicted with the thought of Death and eternal damnation as he questions “the weak-limned hour when sick men’s sighs are drained” and he wonders “on their being withdrawn, gagged by the smothering Wing which none unbinds, I dreaded even a heaven with doors so chained” (11-14). This last stanza is extremely powerful as it reveals Owen’s pessimistic views on life and death and what they each entail. He describes the voice of man as being “gagged” and smothered as if despair, sorrow, and misery are inevitable in darkness and even in light, which he conveys as a “heaven with doors so chained” (14).

All the King's Men: The Strange Parallels in Chapter 4

As I was reading All the King’s Men, I kept pondering Robert Penn Warren’s purpose in abruptly but purposefully including the story of Cass Mastern, who is seemingly the main character of chapter 4. I have desperately been trying to decipher Warren’s message in strangely incorporating the complex nature of Cass Mastern’s life, because I truly do believe there is a more profound purpose than what I perceive it to be.

Chapter 4 in All the King’s Men is essentially a trip to the past, as we are introduced to a Jack Warden from the past, the graduate student “working for his Ph.D. in American History” at the State University of his unnamed and unidentified home state, which frustratingly remains unspecified throughout the book. This particular chapter also incorporates some third person point of view narrative style, as Jack is temporarily no longer the chief narrator interestingly enough.

Nonetheless, Warren weaves this intricate web of what emerges to be the focus of Jack Burden’s first excursion into the past which Jack renders to be unsuccessful as he was unable to comprehend Cass Mastern’s motives and true intentions in the grand scheme of things. Then, Jack goes on to explain that the reason he ceased his research in the excursion of Cass Mastern’s history was merely because he became too immersed in trying to “discover the truth and not the facts,” that he found it almost unbearable to continue the assignment.  

The chapter initially introduces Jack’s disappointing and unsatisfactory college life. This is described in detail by the mysterious narrator who depicts Jack’s college-student self as, in a nutshell, invulnerable to everything, which is potentially “the curse of Jack Burden.” On a side note, I found the irony in this line particularly amusing considering the fact that Jack’s last name is Burden (like an inconvenience or a bother), and he is cursed with being invulnerable. After a quick introduction to the context of Jack’s fascination with Cass Mastern as a college graduate student, Warren launches into this elaborate description of Jack’s initial excursion as Jack recalls the facts that he discovered about this man in his “historical research” of what he considers simply “a job,” when it is clearly more significant than that.

Later, Cass Mastern’s character is defined to be one of the two uncles of Jack’s father, Ellis Burden, aka the Scholarly Attorney. Gradually, Cass’s life is slowly unveiled as the story reverses back to the late 1800s, when Cass was just a young man who winds up in Lexington, Kentucky, and finds that “there is an education for vice as well as for virtue.”  Soon enough, Cass greets one of his close friends, Mr. Duncan Trice, who happens to live a very wealthy and opulent lifestyle. Shortly after encountering Mr. Trice’s wife, Annabelle Trice (aka “the pursuer”), Cass is mesmerized by her beauty and her goddess-like persona. From the beginning, we see the influence that Annabelle has on Cass, as they engage in a scandalous affair that ultimately results in Duncan Trice’s suicide. The secrecy and deception behind Cass and Annabelle’s affair is very similar, and almost parallel to the private relationship between Sadie and Willie Stark in the novel. However, I keep finding contradictions that oppose this theory because Annabelle’s manipulation is disguised by her luring and seductive figure that entices Cass in his naivety. This is considerably different from Sadie’s brazen, self-assured, and assertive character that is depicted as dangerous to Willie’s morals and goodness. Overall, I am still perplexed by Annabelle’s and Cass’s role in the chapter as I’m trying to discern whether Annabelle is a symbol of appeal and temptation or not, and whether Cass is inherently good or not. In essence, a lot of the contradictions and contrasts seen in these two characters can also be seen in Jack and Willie’s innate natures.