The Hours: Only Connect

Michael Cunningham's, The Hours, while a tribute to the legacy of Virginia Woolf also touches heavily on a common Bloomsburian theme, the importance of connections between people. Of the text's several characters, Richard Worthington Brown best demonstrates the vital nature of connectivity. Afflicted with terminal AIDS and often operating under the effect of numerous prescription medications, Richard's is a most tragic case. The dying poet appears (at least in the text) only to have regular meaningful interaction with his female friend, and onetime object of desire, Clarrissa Voughn. Abandoned by his former male lover, Louis, Richard lives alone in a shoddy apartment where even sunlight is barely permitted to shine. Yet, the awfulness ceases to end there. Richard's own mother, the main character named Laura Brown, is later revealed to have abandoned her family. A powerful influence in Richard's life, Mrs. Brown became both a figure of admiration and loathing in the man's published poetic works. As if to sprinkle sugary granules of misfortune upon Richard's undesirable cake of life, the reader also learns that the poet's father passed away of liver cancer and that his sister was the victim of a drunk driving accident. With none left close to him, save a caring friend whom is a constant reminder of a dream never to come true, Richard commits suicide by jumping from his apartment window down to the sidewalk below.

The deathly ill Richard was faced with a horrid reality, one he could not bear to weather alone, or even with the comfort of his only close friend. With no one to support him, the poet collapsed under the strain. The unsavory story of Richard Brown serves to underscore the need for humans to establish bonds with others of their species, and the terrible effects of connections ripped away by death or other misfortune. The Hours takes the classic Bloomsbury theme further, perhaps reading something like this: Only connect, it may just save your life or someone else's.

The Godbole Connection

Of all the characters in A Passage to India, Professor Godbole is perhaps the most perplexing. This aloof and mysterious individual, who makes only a limited number of appearances in the text, may at first seem remarkably disconnected from the world around him. However, when one takes a deeper look into the nature of Professor Godbole, a powerful connection can be found between him and that abstract thing called human nature. Godbole possesses an almost transcendental mindset that gives him a kind of quasi-divine nature. When approached or confronted by outside forces and individuals the Professor maintains a constant collectedness, which remains a powerful barrier to shield his inner thoughts from those outside.

In chapter seven the Professor makes his first appearance. The passage goes as follows: "The Brahman...took his tea at a little distance from the outcasts, from a low table placed slightly behind him, to which he stretched back, and as it were encountered food by accident...He wore a Turban that looked like pale purple macaroni, coat, waistcoat, dhoti, socks with clocks. The clocks matched the turban, and his whole appearance suggested harmony - as if he had reconciled the products of East and West, mental as well as physical and could never be discomposed. The ladies were interested in him...But he only ate - ate and ate, never letting his eyes catch sight of his hand" (72-73).

This entrance scene is vastly important as an illustration of Godbole's behavior, specifically his silent messages and purposful misdirections. The taking of his tea near outcasts illustrates is unconcern regarding most social conventions, but the taking of his tea alone is even more telling. In a way the professor is telling the others gathered that he does not share their need to be social, a point further supported by his relative aloofness. Godbole's encounter with the food, while appearing accidental, was far from it. The professor made a deliberate choice to position himself away from conventionally desirable locations, while allowing food to be accessible. It can almost be believed that Professor Godbole arrived mostly to eat and drink his fill. Close attention should be paid to the fact that he never let himself look at his hands. This small detail was crucial to his subtle scheme to appear behaving without giving much thought to his actions, which in fact were extremely tactical. In this way Godbole can behave in any manner he so pleases without offending anyone, a master of social interaction. Rather than being seen as anti-social, Godbole has actually reached a point in his development that sets him above petty posturing and small talk.

Godbole's social prowess does not end there, however. The Professor also has a potent understanding of aesthetics which he demonstrates through his attire. The blending of eastern and western clothing is yet another crucial piece of his total image. Combining a mystic look with seemingly unconcerned behavioral patterns confronts the others members of the gathering with something alien and not easily understood. In this way Godbole subtly manipulates the situation and all those involved in order to produce a desired effect...simply being left alone to eat some food until he decides to join in conversation.

Godbole may seem remote and disconnected to the undiscerning. The opposite is true however, as it would be impossible for the Professor to make such subtle and cunning decisions without a firm knowledge of human behavior. Godbole is very much connected to those around him, so connected in fact that he communicates without even addressing them. The irony is that most don't even realize they respond to his hidden signals.

Imperialism: The Fist and the Storm

In my reading of Pearls and Swine I couldn't help but notice a comparison between the state of the oyster fishery and that of Mr. White. The fishery is described as a hideous and stinking place, full of flies and rotting oyster flesh, whereas Mr. White is said to be red faced, watery eyed, unhealthily fat, and a heavy drinker. For the sake of my argument, I will consider the fishery as a kind of character meant to behave almost as the Indian doppleganger for Mr. White. Both share an element of decay and both appear to be governed almost totally by chaos. Mr. White, after his illness sets in, begins to talk of the terrible acts he has committed. I cannot help but feel that Mr. White's actions act as a British parrallel to the near eruption of roit by Indians over oyster shares described by the commissioner. These elements of decay and violence on the part of both the British and the Indians are meant to reflect the overall destructiveness of Imperialism on both parties.

White, on the one hand, has attempted to assume a more Indian lifestyle. Yet, it truely ruined him - a fact proven by his eruption into insanity and eventual death. On the flip side, the Indians have been forced into a kind of European system which both operates outside thier traditional methods and leeches away whatever wealth they can accumulate. A near riot over a paltry sum of oysters could only be caused by a severe level of impovrishment, as even a small amount can mean the difference between eating and starving. Whereas the plight of the indians is more obvious, Mr. White is a symbol for the whole empire. He stands for an iron handed superpower that has reached too far and attempted to grip its subjects too tightly. White is the physical example of the iron hand losing its grip, all the little bits and pieces slipping between its fingers. Leonard Woolf's message is clear. The British Empire has bitten off vastly more than it can chew, and Mr. White is the result. The unruly nature of the Indians is the result. The English could not hope to control India any more than theMonsoon season, which the British had to work thier oyster farming around.

As I write this, I've reached yet another conclusion. I believe that the Indian people and the Monsoon are one in the same. Perhaps they are even part of the whole idea of India, the idea the English failed to comprehend in thier counterproductive pride. Perhaps Woolf's other message was that the storm wasn't on its way. The storm was already there and it was ripping the English a new one. An interesting idea eh?

E.M. Forster on Individualism

I'll begin by saying that I find common ground with E. M. Forster, the individualist. He states "I hate the idea of causes, and if I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend I hope I should have the guts to betray my country" (167). I certainly couldn't agree more! Before I continue further, I should briefly elaborate on the purpose of government as a foundation for my arguement. Man, as an individual, can be assumed to be totally free before joining a government. No act or desire is prohibited that cannot be acquired by force, guile, or other interaction. In this state of freedom, each Man is equally free and equally vulnerable to the cruelties of his peers. Government offers protection and order at the cost of certain liberties. If a man finds the cost to be outweighed by the benefit, he joins the government and obeys the rules. This is the purpose of government, to suit the needs of those who operate under its strictures.

Here's a fun question: what if the government you've supported no longer stands for what it once did? Such was the case in Germany, when Hitler dismantled a republic and replaced it with a dictatorship. A system that once supported free thought became one that squelched it, often violently. Patriotism is only valuable if the government you support is supporting you! Forster knew this, which is why he said what he did. Ultimately, all we have is ourselves and our loyal friends. We know them by face and name, just as they know us. Why trade that away to become another member of the faceless collective mob?

The workings of ants are remarkably impressive. They labor and travel in perfect lines and formations, operating with the greatest efficiency capable and constructing massive mounds that must seem as mountains to creatures so small. All this is done at the direction of a queen, so that the colony may continue to exist and thrive. Ants exist solely to continue thier own existence. humans, on the other hand, have the amazing power of creativity. This is a power that Forster treasures (along with myself I might add), and what seperates us from the more instinctive creatures of the world. When we sacrifice our individuality, for a nation or other cause, we regress back to being little more than really large ants led by a "dictator-hero" (172). Through criticism and free exchange of thought we can do more than mold stone and steel. We can explore the wonders of our existence more deeply than any ant ever could. Life is too short to be building someone else's grand dream. Forster knew this then, and I know it now.

Divided we stand. United we fall (backwards).

Lytton Strachey: Origins of a Man Bibliography

Michael Holroyd, . Lytton Strachey: A Critical Biography, Volume 1, The Unknown Years. 1st. 2
vols. United States: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1968. Print.

R. H. Vetch, ‘Strachey, Sir Richard (1817–1908)’, rev. Elizabeth Baigent, Oxford Dictionary of
National Biography, Oxford University Press, 2004
[http://www.oxforddnb.com.ezproxy.tcu.edu/view/article/36341, accessed 24 Sept
2009 ]

S. P. Rosenbaum, ‘Strachey, (Giles) Lytton (1880–1932)’, Oxford Dictionary of National
Biography, Oxford University Press, Sept 2004; online edn, Jan 2008 [http://www.oxforddnb.com.ezproxy.tcu.edu/view/article/36338, accessed 24 Sept 2009 ]

*Legacy of the Woolf*

In my reading of E.M. Forster's lecture on Viginia Woolf, I was left intrigued by his statement "I have not the least faith that anything which we now value will survive historically...and may be another generation will dismiss Virginia Woolf as worthless and tiresome" (205). I was left to wonder "Just what legacy has she left behind?" I am by no means and expert on Virginia Woolf, thus my examination of what she left behind will be pitifully amateurish at best. I suppose I'll begin by stating that I'd never once read any of her works prior to this course, however her name was familiar to me (much like Florence Nightnengale) though I couldn't tell you who she was. Despite my ignorance, the fact that her name persists is perhaps the strongest evidence of her modern relevance. When it comes to tangible remnants, it's easy to point to her body of works including: The Waves, The Voyage Out, and The Common Reader. Of course her novel Mrs. Dalloway proved the inspiration for Michael Cunningham's, The Hours, which has been made into a movie. However, Virginia Woolf's legacy does not end with her name and books. Something much more important remains.

We know from Vanessa Bell's elaboration of her and her sister's childhood, that Virginia was beautiful and brilliant (to the point of arousing jealousy) ever since she was young. Forster sums her up by simply saying "she liked writing" (205) and "frittered away her broader effects by mischievousness" (206). So, from just this information alone we can gather that this lady is rather out of the ordinary.

Behind the words penciled upon the pages there is a philosophy, a driving force, a passion, a goal. This is the real legacy, the one we have transferred to us secretly and invisibly as we read her works. Do I know what this legacy is yet? No. I've not the experience with her literature that esteemed individuals such as Forster possess. But I do know that her name lives on, giving her a kind of immortality. That can only mean that she left an impression on not just somebody, but a great many people.

The purpose of this entry is to ask a question.

What can we learn from the life and works of Viginia Woolf?

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So as not to look like a cop out, I'll answer my own question. Feel free to post your own unique responses in your comment.

As stated earlier I have only limited experience with Virginia Woolf, but I've been left with an impression that she wrote because she loved it dearly, devoting herself to her works entirely. Forster called her works "analogous to a sensation", which can only mean that she did a hell of a good job of generating emotion in her writing! When I see how enduring Virginia has become, along with the praise she recieves, I'm left with powerful message.

Do what you love. Do it well and make it your own. You'll be remembered.

Hello chums!

Hello everyone! I'm Lee Jarnagin, but you can just call me Shirly if you like (Not Really). It should be obvious that I attend TCU, so I won't bother to state that. [Oh, wait, I just did. Silly me!] for those of you curious, I'm an English major and plan on heading off to grad school after this year. Black is my favorite color simply because it looks great alongside any other color (Any outfit combining black and another color is a winning choice), though blue is a close second. I spend a great deal of time reading books, particularly horror and sci fi/fantasy works, but I also enjoy the philosophy of Machiavelli, Nietzsche, and Ayn Rand. Other interests include occultism, studies on human sexuality, ancient history, and politics. Television programming is pretty much utterly devoid of value and rather boring, but I won't hesitate to watch a good Ultimate Fighting Championship bout (Anderson Silva is unbeatable!). Of all the places I like to go to on vacation, Las Vegas takes the cake. There's no city like Sin City! After all, you only get to live once- leap into the fire and don't look back!!!! If you get burned, that means you got a good story to tell the grandkids. Take care chums.



Here's a fun game: If you know what this image is, then you know what I am. Behold my secrets lol. No more hints for you now. If I say more you'll just google and spoil the fun. Leave your guesses in your comments.

Note: Google images will barely help ye, probably even lead ye in the wrong direction for ye who seek answers untainted by falsehoods. The truth lies in undefiled wisdom.