ESSAI
The College of DuPage Anthology
Of
Academic Writing Across the Curriculum
(Volume III 2004-2005)
The College of DuPage, Glen Ellyn, Illinois
The contents of this anthology copyright, 2005
College of DuPage
Acknowledgments
To all submitting instructors, our heartfelt thank you.
We sincerely salute your dedicated and inspired teaching
which has energized and enlivened
the life of ESSAI.
We also offer our special thanks to
Sheryl Mylan, Associate Dean of Communications,
Bev Reed, Assistant Dean of Communications,
Wendolyn Tetlow, Dean of Liberal Arts, and
Chris Picard, Vice President for Academic Affairs,
for their constant, gracious support and encouragement.
We extend our appreciation to Allison Durante, a COD student,
for her participation in the consideration of the cover design.
Our special appreciation and pride go to
the student artist, Faiz Zuberi,
whose exceptional cover adorns this volume.
Thank you all.
Foreword
It is our great joy to present the third volume of ESSAI, The College of DuPage Anthology of Academic
Writing Across the Curriculum. As in the past volumes, the aim of ESSAI is to celebrate and honor the
talent, scholarship, and sophistication in learning articulated by the writings of COD students in the twelve
disciplines during the 2004-2005 academic year: Art, Biology, Chemistry, Criminal Justice, English
Composition, Film Studies, History, Literature, Math, Philosophy, Political Science, and Speech.
Selections include personal essays, expository writings, literary and art criticisms, research projects, and
formal reports, all accomplished in response to a variety of classroom assignments. We believe that
writing to stimulate the process of analytical and creative thinking is important and worthy of recognition
as writing to record information and demonstrate mastery of subjects flawlessly, eloquently, and
gracefully.
Readers will find much to admire in the writings that follow. If you are a student, you will find models for
your own writing. The selections will help to demystify the kind of writing assignments that other students
are engaged in other courses because preceding each selection is the instructor’s description of the
assignment. If you are a professor, you may find ESSAI useful as a teaching resource. It may supply
exemplars of understanding what we teach at the college and how we do it. Equally important, ESSAI
may enrich and enliven our ongoing conversation about writing as a vital part of the academic experience
at the College of DuPage, a unified dialogue that is always apt to inspire our own pedagogic innovations,
which in turn will surely inspire our students.
Brief words on the anthology name and the selection rubric: first, the name ESSAI derives from Michel de
Montaigne who is credited to have created a new literary genre called essays in the sixteenth century and
to whom we owe our tradition of college essay writing. However, on reflecting our philosophy of writing
across the curriculum at all levels of learning, we resonate back to Montaigne’s seminal design in which
“essais” meant trials and attempts, “a weighing” of issues at hand (from the Latin exagium), and all that
accrued from its synonymous mental exercises. Thus, ESSAI signifies students’ minds hard at work in
various academic interests, tasks, and settings, while witnessing the laudable results of their writerly
efforts and integrity.
The following is the rubric we have applied in making the selections. Papers are deemed exemplary if
they:
 Are completed according to assignments’ purposes.
 Have mechanics, grammar, and other technical points in place.
 Are imaginative, creative, logical, and risk-taking with respect to assignments’ purposes.
 Exhibit clarity of writing with respect to purposes.
 Follow the disciplinary format.
 Include relevant literature reviews where required.
‫ݗ‬4 ‫ݗ‬嫜٦ჲMacOS᭳ও̪ᗲ漀爀὆飺⌡ᳲጳ⋷駬͚† Ԁᥗ-Ԁᥗ
ᗲᷱᔶ⁒ᐒ呁" ‫ݗ‬4 ‫ݗ‬寜尋ᘶ ٝ៲@Ą쏢ƁȀǨ쏢ᑲᙆ
emonstrate analytical abilities.
‫ݗ‬4 ‫ݗ‬嫜٦ჲMacOS᭳ও̪ᗲ漀爀὆飺⌡ᳲጳ⋷駬͚† Ԁᥗ-Ԁᥗ
ᗲᷱᔶ⁒ᐒ呁" ‫ݗ‬4 ‫ݗ‬寜尋ᘶ ٝ៲@Ą쏢ƁȀǨ쏢ᑲᙆ
enerate interest.
Join with us in congratulating these student writers. And look forward to the fourth volume of ESSAI in
2007.
The ESSAI Editorial Board:
Chikako D. Kumamoto, English
Bob Georgalas, English
Keith Krasemann, Philosophy
Chris Petersen, Biology
Lois Stanciak, Education
Ben Whisenhunt, History
“In this work, when it shall be found that
much is omitted,
let it not be forgotten that
much likewise is performed.”
Samuel Johnson, the Preface to his Dictionary
Table of Contents
Tanya Basu
The Wilting Flower of Hope: The Modern Iranian Reform Movement .........................
(Honors Political Science 221)
1
Mary Bodine
The Vitality of a Story ..................................................................................................
(English 154)
7
Wendy Carpenter
The Power of Virginity: Isabella’s Quest for Control ....................................................
(Honors English 228)
11
Meredith Carey
Judgment, Narrative & Redemption in the Tympanum at Conques-en-Rouergue...........
(Art 212)
15
Thomas Ferguson
Roger de Piles in the 21st Century .................................................................................
(Honors Art 212)
23
Michael Graczyk
Racial Profiling Stop Cards: Will the Data Eliminate Profiling?...................................
(Criminal Justice 151)
27
Victoria Graham
Macroinvertebrate Community Effects From the Exclusion of Mammalian Predators ...
(Biology 110)
33
Sara Heppner
Evaluating the Finds of a Recent Discovery of Humanoid Bones Suggesting the
Coexistence of and Matting between Homo sapiens and Homo neanderthalensis ..........
(Honors Biology 102)
Benjamin Hooper
Yes, But At What Temperature Do Movies Burn?.........................................................
(English 154)
Brian Kinsman
An Analysis of the Identity and Relationship Among Skeletal Remains of the
Upper Paleolithic Era....................................................................................................
(Honors Biology 102)
IV
41
47
51
Valentine Kopjo
Biodiversity of the Macroinvertebrate Community in a Re-created Tallgrass
Prairie as Affected by Exclusion of Mammalian Predators ............................................
(Honors Biology 110)
Kathy Kozak
George Orwell and Burma ............................................................................................
(Honors English 103)
Sean Labbé
Atheist, Anglican, or Recusant: Marlowe’s Revolt From Unorthodox in
The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus........................................................................
(English 220)
57
63
71
Rebecca Lunev
Splenda.........................................................................................................................
(Chemistry 105)
77
Julie McKee
Cultural Literacy and The American Public Schools .....................................................
(English 102)
81
Matt Naglewski
Predicting Failure..........................................................................................................
(History 112)
85
Stacy Nalley
Nawal El Saadawi: The Legacy of Stories....................................................................
(English 130)
89
Allan Norgaard
Effects of Nesting Acanthomycops claviger on Soil in Recreated Tallgrass Prairie........
(Honors Biology 103)
95
Jason Nosek
Grayscale Chessboard ...................................................................................................
(Honors English 154, Speech 120)
103
Richard Payton
Gender Role Behaviors and Attitudes in Hedwig and the Angry Inch ............................
(Honors English 154, Speech 120)
107
V
Megan Posch
Cinematizing the Great American Novel.......................................................................
(English 154)
111
Nadia Qazi
When Hatred Controls a Nation ....................................................................................
(English 103)
115
David Rojas
Case Study: Sports - Baseball Stadiums ........................................................................
(Math 135)
125
Maggie Smith
Helping to Break the Communication Barrier................................................................
(English 103)
139
Ruth Valentine
Making the News ..........................................................................................................
(English 102)
145
Anthony Wilder
Whether It Is Morally Permissible.................................................................................
(Philosophy 110)
147
Roberta Williams
Book Review: The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test ............................................................
(History 257)
151
Sharon Wussow
Stylistic Changes of Pompeian Floor Mosaics ...............................................................
(Honors Art 211)
155
VI
The Wilting Flower of Hope: The Modern Iranian Reform Movement
by Tanya Basu
(Honors Political Science 221)
The Assignment: Students were asked to pick a topic on a country of interest in
the Middle East and write a ten page research paper on the subject.
“The future of religion is that it has to cope with freedom; otherwise it has no future. If religion
confronts freedom, then religion will suffer.” (Montaigne 33)
T
hus does Mohammad Khatami, the reformist President of Iran, voice the struggles of the
Islamic republic today and its battle to compromise religion and state in the twenty-first
century. For a nation plagued with many social, political, and economic problems,
Khatami has offered hope for the liberalization of Iran’s strict interpretation of Shi’ism and the
possible establishment of a secular democracy. Citizens saw the 1979 Islamic Revolution under
Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini as a promise of more prosperous times free from the shah’s harsh
rule. However, many of Ayatollah Khomeini’s pledges have yet to be fulfilled, especially
regarding justice, freedom, and economic policies, heralding in the Khatami era. Although
Khatami represents a flicker of optimism for the dire situation in Iran, his term is coming to an
end, and a reemergence of the Islamic Revolution is brimming with active conservative agendas.
Yet, it is necessary to first explore the roots of the modern revolution prior to venturing into the
consequences it may yield not only for Iran, but also for the world.
As much as numerous Americans may view Ayatollah Khomeini as a tyrant, it is
impossible to refute the fact that he was an immense force behind the 1979 Islamic Revolution
and improved upon the shah. After Ayatollah Khomeini successfully overthrew the shah, paved
roads, water, and electricity appeared in rural areas-a feat that the wealthy shah had not been able
to accomplish. Higher education for the masses occurred, including women, a notable example
of equality of the sexes in an Islamic country. Also, Khomeini was able to make Iran a country
that was unusually receptive and tolerant to other religions (the blaring exception being followers
of the Baha’i faith). However, it is unquestionably the rural areas that benefited the most under
the new rule of the Ayatollah and his policies. Telephone lines, bridges, drinking water systems,
and irrigation pumps were installed to help isolated villagers. The Ayatollah is heavily credited
with designing the “Crusade for Construction” program, which aimed to aid those suffering from
destitution (Montaigne 10). In spite of perceptions in the Western world of the Ayatollah being a
power hungry oppressor, his achievements qualify him for the title of “reformist,” although his
idea of reform is very different from that of Mohammad Khatami.
Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini’s original vision remains vibrantly alive today and is
enjoying a resurgence by the conservative majority in government. According to the Ayatollah,
the state should be founded on the principles of independence, freedom, and velayat-e faqih, or
the supremacy of Shi’a jurists. Of late, however, the blending of state with the divine, channeled
through the authoritarian power of a supreme leader, has begun to raise questions, as theologians
are finding that the Koran prohibits the absolute power of a mere mortal human being.
1
Accusations from theologians such as the philosophy’s chief originator, Grand Ayatollah
Hossein Ali Montazeri, initiated public skepticism, mainly due to the fact that the prosperity and
social justice promised had not been delivered, giving rise to the possibility that corruption could
have interfered with the philosophy’s success. The misery index’s colossal increases, the severe
drop in income, and the reintroduction of poverty pointed towards a nauseous economy, further
bringing the regime’s right to exist in question among the public (Amuzegar 50-52).
Four cofactors worked together to bring the modern revolution to full throttle. The first
was the strong patriotism Iranians hold for their country, resulting from years of suspicion and
growing bitterness against foreign forces who did not help them in the Iraq initiated war of the
1980’s. A second aspect of the revolution is domestic policies. “Reformers” and
“conservatives” both believe in the revolution and fiercely protect the 1979 Constitution. In fact,
neither reformers nor conservatives share the West’s concept of human rights and prefer to abide
by the Koran’s interpretation of such matters. What marks the reformers from the conservatives
is primarily economic and political in nature. A third asset that ignited a will to change was the
Shi’a interpretation of religion. Although seen by the West as a restricting religious sect, it
technically does not bar the follower from modernization. Finally, and most importantly, the
coming of age of the Third Force has significantly increased interest in reforming Iran. The
“Third Force” is the name given to young Iranians who did not live through the shah’s rule. This
is not to say that they desire separation of religion from state; indeed, much of the “Third Force”
seek the two to remain intertwined, for secularism is not seen as a realistic choice in the current
climate. The Third Force feels that their careers and lives are halted because of the Ayatollah’s
leadership and distrust many of the clergy in office. These four influences combined and
continue to effect modern politics, giving Khatami the chance to reshape Iran (Amuzegar 48-50).
For his part, Khatami introduced several measures that encouraged Westerners to interact
with Iran and gave signs of developments that many surmised could signal the end of the regime.
Khatami’s policies follow two distinct patterns. The first is the embracing of civil disobedience
and its effect on relaxing the theocracy’s firm grasp on daily lives. Khatami quietly supported
organizations that were not approved by the government to address problems in society,
especially those facing women and the economic chaos facing the nation. The government’s
stranglehold on the press was loosened, and the Internet became a popular channel for dissidents,
many of whom were living abroad. Most importantly, street demonstrations have become more
commonplace with responses from the government coming in the form of increases in the
minimum wage, for example. The second and major portion of Khatami’s policies focused on
the economy. Khatami introduced policies that would reduce the power of the theocracy to
control the majority of funds from the gross domestic product (primarily oil) as well as to
integrate Iran with modern needs in the global marketplace so as to break from its current
dependence on oil. Utilizing pressure from international banking associations such as the
International Monetary Fund, Khatami was able to reduce the power of the theocracy by
introducing access to foreign credit. Another step towards revitalizing the economy occurred in
2000, when Khatami engineered a bill legalizing private banking and insurance, allowing
national savings to move from the Ayatollah’s treasure chest to be shared with the public.
Khatami’s economic reforms reached their pinnacle when he instituted the protection of foreign
investments and copyrights to protect original work law, creating a source of revenue that was
not oil-related (Amuzegar 53-54). Khatami has also played upon this interest of reducing
dependence on oil and promoted Persian carpets and pistachios into the market as successful
alternatives to black gold. His ultimate fiscal goal during his terms as President was the
2
establishment of rail lines between Central Asia and ports on the Shatt al-Arab in the Persian
Gulf (Montaigne 27). However, Iran’s economic growth is inhibited greatly by the United
State’s blocking of its entry into the World Trade Organization. Along with the European
Union’s trade cooperation agreements, Iran could have a renaissance economy, for it is rich in
natural and human resources (Amuzegar 55).
Besides the economy, Khatami has become a notable figure for his handling of other
areas of reform. Yet, people remain frustrated because Khatami follows Khomeini’s slow pace
of change that had turned many Iranians against the Islamic Revolution. Khatami’s election
came about because of his popular “restrained populist message” of keeping the traditions of
Islam while testing Western concepts of democracy, marking revolutionary accomplishments in
emphasizing privacy and “civil rights and freedoms.” His greatest victory lay in how he was
able to attract all strata of society, especially the lucrative groups of women, intellectuals,
businessmen, and most significantly, the Third Force (Montaigne 14).
However, this is not to say that Khatami has been magically able to liberalize the system
with grand successes. Indeed, Khatami’s administration has been plagued with problems,
ranging from the economy to women. Critics point out a number of loopholes and injustices,
such as the disappearances of some intellectuals and the conviction of politicians from Khatami’s
own reform movement on unsubstantiated charges. Khatami’s limited power and opposing
views with the Ayatollah make his reforms difficult to pass, especially in a country where clerics
run an economy they know little about. Rural women are sheltered compared to their urban
counterparts, and literacy is dropping in rural areas as families are attempting to make ends meet.
Despite Khatami’s economic reforms, the economy has suffered huge blows, including inflation
of 20% a year and a drop in per capita income (Montaigne 22-23). High oil prices allowed Iran
to benefit to a healthy increase in GDP of 6% a year (“Defiant Iran: The World of the
Ideologues” 24), yet dropping prices in the market today are wounding the nation reliant upon
the precious resource for national income. Other blows include brain drain, the war with Iraq
during the 1980’s (in addition to the current war in Iraq), U.S. trade sanctions, and a population
that could double (Montaigne 23).
As Khatami nears the end of his term, his administration faces challenges that threaten to
destroy what liberalization Khatami did achieve in his two terms as President. Opponents in the
conservative parties are gaining power in unusually high numbers after recent elections, as the
Council of Guardians disqualified more than 2000 reformist candidates, granting an enormous
break for right wing politicians. These newly elected members find Khatami’s views too foreign
friendly with “conciliatory policies abroad and liberalizing measures at home.” To counter this,
the attempt to gain nuclear capabilities has begun in efforts to isolate the country from
liberalization and western values. Furthermore, Khatami’s efforts are being torn apart, as
Parliament revised a “liberalizing development plan” approved by the prior liberal Parliament
which emphasized foreign involvement in the economy via investments and privatization.
Slowly, the instruments of the reform party for change-the press and the Parliament-have been
silenced due to rigged elections designed to benefit the conservatives. The blooming of debate
that had occurred before and during the Khatami administration’s earlier years are dying, giving
way to conservative rhetoric (“Defiant Iran: The World of the Ideologues” 24).
Khatami’s revolutionary reform movement is suffering a serious setback and seems
doomed for an early demise in the social arena as well. Khatami had pushed for improved
penitentiary surroundings and preached tolerance of political opinions – two ideas that did not
take well with the conservatives now in power. The conservatives favor tightening the social
3
restrictions that annoyed them to no end under Khatami, as the “morality police” are once again
coming back to life, particularly against women. Popular perception is also favoring the
conservatives once more, as Parliament revitalized loss making factories, the launching of
various infrastructure projects following Khomeini’s popular “Crusade for Construction”
concept. Youth are less politically involved as exit polls reported disappointing numbers earlier
this past election season, and anti-Iranian satellite channels no longer remain popular (“Defiant
Iran: The World of the Ideologues” 26).
What hinders the advent of further advancements in the reform movement is largely the
United States and its foreign policy stance with Iran. There remain five obstacles to the
recommencement of normal international relations with Iran that the United States has repeatedly
made clear: official and documented state sponsorship of terrorism around the world and
specifically against the United States; a quest for weapons of mass destruction, such as nuclear
weapons; opposition to the Arab-Israeli peace process and Israel’s right to exist; threats to
neighbors in the Persian Gulf who are allies with the United States; violation of human rights
within Iran; and the accusation that Iran protects al-Qaeda operatives within its borders
(Amuzegar 45). In addition, already frozen relations plunged deeper into coldness as it was
unearthed that Karine-A arms shipments from Iran were sent to Palestinian operatives active in
violence against Israel (Hollis 6). For its part, Iran has set aside a list of demands that must be
met for any relation between the United States and Iran. The original three parts to the demands
were: acceptance of the 1979 Revolution and the Ayatollah as Iran’s leader; absolutely no
interference in the domestic policies of Iran; and “respect and equality” for the regime’s systems
of operation. However, as time has passed, Iran has increased its demands of the United States
to include: the relieving of U.S. economic sanctions against Iran; the release of frozen Iranian
assets in the United States; the immediate departure of the United States Navy from the Persian
Gulf; an end to one-sided, favorable support towards Israel; and finally, a formal apology for
American “misdeeds” against the country. Given the countries’ resistance, it seems unlikely one
will give in to the other’s demands (Amuzegar 46).
In recent months, various world events have created rifts in Iranian policy, and the reform
movement may suffer. Near the end of the Clinton administration, the Iranian government under
Khatami had begun to forge bonds, inching towards a possible reconciliation between the two
nations. However, the advent of the Bush administration put an immediate halt to such plans,
especially when, in a State of the Union speech, President Bush piled Iran together with Iraq and
North Korea as the “Axis of Evil.” Bush had motivations of pleasing his frightened nation and
attracting international support for the war on terror, warning Tehran that missteps would lead to
grave danger. European allies felt uneasy with such a proposition, and Iran lashed back at the
United States for what they considered insulting and preposterous indictments. Both reformers
and conservatives were joined in anger against the United States at the allegations (Amuzegar
46). Recent nuclear capabilities have choked the Iranian reform movement, as Mohammed
ElBaradei, head of the International Atomic Energy Agency, has announced that Iran has
committed violations of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. Iran has consistently retracted
from undertakings to stop making centrifuge components, claiming that the nation is seeking an
alternative form of energy, although evidence suggests otherwise, giving rise to the concern that
Iran’s isolationist policy may be leaving its promising reform movement in its infancy (“Defiant
Iran: The World of the Ideologues” 24). Yet another factor that seems to be an obstacle in the
path towards reform in the international circle is Iran’s strategic position in what many call a
“dangerous neighborhood.” Bordering contentious Iraq, holding grudges against Pakistan,
4
unfriendly with Afghanistan, and isolated from most other Middle Eastern nations because of its
neutrality in Operation Desert Storm, Iran has found itself in the heart of the war on terror and
noticeably alone. American sanctions and wariness of both Iran and Iraq allowed Iran’s now
notorious connections with the European Union’s trade circles. Understanding their unique role
as negotiators between both sides, the EU has repeatedly asked the Islamic Republic to accept an
additional protocol; however, the United States has not taken an active role on this issue, mainly
because of its focus on Iraq (Hollis 6). Moreover, Iran’s reform movement has recently been put
on hold because of the war in Iraq. Its challenge for survival of the regime lies in the possibility
that the United States may achieve their goal of a free Iraq. The results of this situation could
eventually determine the fate of the Iranian theocracy geographically, Iran could become
completely surrounded by American allies and forces. A free Iraq could also hurt Iran through
the mobilization of the Third Force, whose confidence in regime change could be bolstered. Iran
also faces economic hardship once pipelines begin to flow again in war-torn Iraq; combined with
a decline in oil prices, gasoline in Iraq would be able to overpower Iranian oil. For a nation that
relies virtually solely on oil for its survival, the opening of Iraqi oil pipelines may spell disaster
for the Iranian government (Amuzegar 55-56). Iran may have connections to Sunni militants and
Muqtada al-Sadr’s insurgents to help oust American forces. Combined with these developing
international events, Iran’s reform movement faces difficult times ahead promoting its liberal
policies and view that internationalism and cooperation with the West will lead to a safer and
more prosperous Iran.
Iran’s modern reform movement faces a daunting task in surviving the obstacles in its
path, including the reemergence of conservatives in Parliament and the international community.
Many are pessimistic about the revival of the fervor that had been energized by Khatami.
Ayatollah Ali Khamenei’s power and support is increasing, and American action in the region is
helping neither the peace process nor the reform movement. However, it is necessary to note
that Iran’s Third Force remains mobilized and unhappy. Should the conservative government
rejuvenated in recent elections fail in any way, the Iranians may drum up support once more for
the liberal reformists to come to power again-it happened prior to Khatami’s election, and it may
certainly happen again in Iran’s often unpredictable political climate.
On May 23rd, 1998, Mohammad Khatami spoke at a rally organized by many of the
disenfranchised young voices of the Third Force. Here, he reiterated his goals of a just social
environment and liberalization. In the midst of his speech, a group began to call for “Death to
America!” Soon afterwards, a deafening roar of “Death to Monopoly!” conquered. An observer
writes, “For a moment Khatami stood quietly…Then he uttered a remark that silenced
everybody. ‘I prefer,’ said the President of Iran, ‘to talk about life, not death’” (Montaigne 33).
The flower of hope may yet blossom for Iran.
5
Works Cited
Amuzegar, Jahangir. “Iran’s Crumbling Revolution.” Foreign Affairs January/February 2003:
44-57.
Hollis, Rosemary. “Bemused and Worried.” The World Today July 2003: 4-6.
Montaigne, Fen. “Iran: Testing the Waters of Reform.” National Geographic July 1999: 2-33.
“Special Report: Dealing With Iran: Next on the List?” The Economist June 2004: 22-24.
“Special Report: Defiant Iran: The World of the Ideologues.” The Economist September 2004:
23-26.
“The Divine Right to a Bomb.” The Economist February/March 2004: 10.
6
The Vitality of a Story
by Mary Bodine
(English 154)
The Assignment: Compare and contrast a novel or short story collection to its
screen translation.
I
t seemed like a preposterous idea to make John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath a movie in
1939. The novel is too gritty in language and attitude. It drips anger and revolution. It forces
the reader to redefine faith, survival, sexuality, revolution and home. The novel is harsh. In
fact, after publication, The Grapes of Wrath was banned, burned, and the Associated Farmers
even began a smear campaign to refute it (Benson 394). Steinbeck was labeled a communist, a
socialist and worse, a liar.
Despite the controversy surrounding the novel, Twentieth Century Fox executive Darryl
F. Zanuck bought the rights from Steinbeck and hired Nunnally Johnson to write the screenplay
(Benson 408). Steinbeck understood the movies; he told Johnson, “A novel and a screenplay are
two different things. Do whatever you wish with the book. I’ve already made my statement. Now
it’s up to you to make yours” (Benson 409). Steinbeck was concerned, though, with the
preservation of the novel’s story. So much so that he told Zanuck “he was going to put the
$75,000 paid for the rights to the novel into escrow, and that if the movie was watered down or
its perspective changed, he would use the money to sue him” (Benson 409). He kept his money
and Zanuck produced one of America’s greatest movies.
Steinbeck said that if Zanuck, Johnson and the film’s director, John Ford, could “get 10
percent [of the novel] on film it will be worthwhile” (Benson 410). Although The Grapes of
Wrath on film is much more than 10 percent of the novel – some scenes and dialogue are directly
from the novel – the message and language are watered down. Its themes are not fully developed
and some are ignored. Where Ford surpasses the novel is in imagery. The viewer transcends into
a world the imagination could not conjure through words. There are no fancy costumes, no
make-up, just the weathered, tough look of life on the road. According to film scholar Joseph
McBride, John Ford said The Grapes of Wrath was a “beautifully photographed film but there
was nothing beautiful to shoot.” The novel is epic in prose and the film follows suit in
presentation.
However, the pace of the story is quite different in each version. Steinbeck wrote The
Grapes of Wrath at a rate of six pages a day. He wanted the writing process to reflect the story –
a plodding journey (Shillinglaw). Ford could not afford the time and completed the film in just
43 days (McBride). Minor differences between the novel and movie are the result. A Steinbeck
scholar or avid reader will generally prefer the detailed development of the story in the novel, but
the movie provides easier access to a visually wrenching story about America in the late 1930s.
The first 20 minutes of the film are taken directly from the novel – including the dialogue
-- with the exception of the turtle Tom Joad picks up on his way home. This omission is minor.
Tom Joad was a tough character in the movie and novel, but the addition of the turtle scene had
the capacity to soften Tom and make him seem more playful. The turtle also foreshadowed the
7
direction of the novel. When Tom discovers his family is gone he decides he isn’t going to carry
the turtle around with him for his younger siblings. After he lets it go, he tells Jim Casy, the
former preacher, “They’re always goin’ someplace. They always seem to want to get there”
(Steinbeck 44). The Joads would soon be trying to “get there,” to work, to home, to security.
The Joad family reunites with Tom near the end of the first act. The introductions are
different than the novel. First, each member of the family is introduced to the reader through
stories John tells to the truck driver, Casy or Muley Graves (Shillinglaw). Pa Joad also surprises
Ma with Tom’s return in the novel, but, in the movie, Ma greets Tom first. Johnson may have
made this change to establish the bond between mother and son. Steinbeck, on the other hand,
wanted to establish Ma Joad as the family’s touchstone instead: “… since old Tom and the
children could not know hurt or fear unless she acknowledged hurt and fear, she had practiced
denying them in herself” (74). Ma Joad was a powerful figure in the movie, but much more so in
the novel. One of the main themes in the novel is how women and men deal with change, with
women being more adaptable. The novel is also quite a bit more humorous when the family
reunites than is the movie, with Grandpa buttoning his underwear to his shirt and fumbling to
button his pants. The viewer also misses the preparation of side meat and the selling of
household goods for the journey, but does not miss the crucial moment when Ma Joad thumbs
through her box of collectables and lovingly tosses her memories into the fire. As pointed out by
John Steinbeck scholar Susan Shillinglaw, a commentator for the movie The Grapes of Wrath,
the song “Red River Valley” plays softly in this scene. This delicate touch by Ford could indicate
the memories of what was the lush land of Oklahoma or the anticipation of the rich California
valleys. The addition of music in this scene lends it more weight than was given in the novel.
After the family loads up all of their belongings and hits the road, Steinbeck gives the
reader an understanding of the migration west in his subchapters. Each subchapter in the novel is
a general story about experiences of all migrants, not just the Joads. They are descriptions of
people and situations happening all over the Dust Bowl and in California. Steinbeck tells his
readers, “66 is the path of people in flight, refuges from dust and shrinking land (118)… The
people in flight from the terror behind – strange things happen to them, some bitterly cruel and
some so beautiful that the faith is refired forever” (122). Ford captured the flight of “refuges”
down Route 66 through images of the Joad’s jalopy plodding along on the great highway cutting
through the mountains and desert. He provides numerous long shots of the journey that give the
audience the same perspective Steinbeck voices in the novel – people in flight. The subchapters
in the novel could have presented a problem for the adaptation, but they are beautifully captured
as an experience by the Joads or Muley Graves, or through visual presentation like shots of the
wind blowing through a now vacant house. The subchapters added a tremendous amount of
depth to the film.
Several elements of the novel are left out of the film that may or may not have changed
the story. One element of the film that should have been left out was the character Noah, Tom’s
older brother. Noah makes two appearances in the film: once to greet Tom and then to bathe in
the Colorado River with the family. He disappears in the film and novel. In the novel, Noah tells
Tom that he can’t leave the river and simply walks down the bank of the Colorado. In the film,
Ford completely disregards the character and never accounts for Noah’s disappearance. It is odd
and unsettling, but perhaps a homage to Steinbeck’s own disregard for the character. According
to Shillinglaw, Steinbeck forgot about Noah as he was writing and had to suddenly write him out
of the novel. Perhaps Ford or Johnson also forgot about Noah. For Steinbeck and Ford, Noah
was an unnecessary character and added nothing to either story.
8
The movie begins to make a major departure from the novel when the major action is
reversed. In the novel, the Joad family goes first to the Weedpatch government camp and then
must leave to find work. It is at that time the family ends up on the peach farm, Hooper Ranch,
and Tom kills an officer and must go into hiding. He is brutally beaten in the novel – his nose
broken, and his eye is swollen shut. The family immediately leaves the camp, and finds good
work on a cotton field. While they live in half a boxcar and work as cotton pickers, Tom hides
out in the brush. In the film version, the family goes first to the peach farm, now called Keene
Ranch, and Tom sustains only mild injuries after killing the officer. The family still immediately
leaves the ranch, but, instead, goes to the government camp. Tom lives with his family in the
government camp until the police suspect he is there.
The reversal of action helped make the movie more palatable to a general audience,
because one of the major themes in the novel is revolution or the strength of two men over one.
Because The Grapes of Wrath was a movie of its time, it reflected real issues in the country.
Zanuck and Ford, perhaps, did not want to force the message of revolution as Steinbeck had in
the novel. In an interview for the San Jose Mercury, Steinbeck said, “Their [labor migrants]
coming here now is going to change things almost as much as did the coming of the first
American settlers … These people have that same vitality … and they know just what they want”
(Benson 387).
Steinbeck makes several arguments in the novel for revolution, for the poor to get
together and fight oppression and exploitation, most notably in Chapter 14:
Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other.
Here is the anlage of the thing you fear. This is the zygote. For here ‘I lost my
land’ is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate –
‘We lost our land.’ The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and
perplexed as one. (151)
In the film, revolution or the power of two is more of an undertone. It is not ignored completely,
but is treated with less anger. It is directly spoken about by Casy before he is killed and by Tom
as he leaves the government camp in what is arguably the most famous dialogue in the book and
movie, “… Wherever they’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there. Wherever they’s a
cop beatin’ up a guy, I’ll be there …” (419).
A theme of the novel that is as fully developed in the film as in the book is faith and the
capacity of people to help each other. Jim Casy was a crucial character in both versions, and not
a line of dialogue from Casy (except for at the Joad family introduction) was left out of the film.
Jim Casy, J.C., was the Jesus Christ of the movie (Shillinglaw). He, too, went out to find himself,
to find God. He, too, sacrificed himself, but for Tom. His faith, though, was in the human spirit
and that is the gift he gave to Tom. Tom learns from Casy in the film and novel that “he didn’
have no soul that was his’n. Says he foun’ he jus’ got a little piece of a great big soul. Says a
wilderness ain’t no good, ‘cause his little piece of a soul wasn’t no good ‘less it was with the
rest, an’ was whole … a fella ain’t no good alone” (418).
Although most of the novel’s rich dialogue was used in the film, the different endings
give the viewer vastly different perspectives. Steinbeck ends his novel with the family drowning,
literally and figuratively. Rose of Sharon’s child is stillborn and the family seeks shelter from
torrential downpour in a barn. There they meet a father and son. The father is starving and Rose
9
of Sharon, full of milk, breastfeeds him to life and a vague knowing smile crosses her lips. The
novel’s conclusion was perhaps too perverse to put on screen, even in today’s industry. It leaves
the reader unsettled. Steinbeck himself said, “I’m not trying to write a satisfying story. I’ve done
my damnedest to rip a reader’s nerves to rags. I don’t want him satisfied” (Shillinglaw).
In contrast, the conclusion to the film was more optimistic. By reversing the story so that
the family lives in the government camp last, the viewer is left with the feeling that things are
better for the family. The closing scene is one in which the family is back on the road looking for
work. They are not starving or cold or wet as in Steinbeck’s novel, but are still looking for their
“Red River Valley.”
The story of The Grapes of Wrath, visual or written, begs its audience to feel for the
plight of the “refugees,” to act when injustice is being committed, to adjust and expect change.
The movie rips the heart out, the novel wrenches the soul. They are one and the same, despite
their differences. In a letter written in December 1939, after an initial screening of The Grapes of
Wrath, Steinbeck wrote:
Zanuck has more than kept his word. He has a hard, straight picture in which the
actors are submerged so completely that it looks and feels like a documentary film
and certainly has a hard, truthful ring. No punches were pulled – in fact, with
descriptive matter removed; it is a harsher think than the book, by far. It seems
unbelievable but it is true. (Benson 411)
What greater blessing could a movie receive?
Works Cited
Benson, Jackson J. John Steinbeck, Writer. 1984. New York: Penguin Putnam, 1990.
McBride, Joseph and Shillinglaw, Susan. Commentary on The Grapes of Wrath. Dir. John Ford.
Perf. Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, John Carradine. 1940. DVD. 20th Century Fox, 2004.
Steinbeck, John. The Grapes of Wrath. 1939. New York: Penguin Putnam, 2002.
The Grapes of Wrath. Dir. John Ford. Perf. Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, John Carradine. 1940.
DVD. 20th Century Fox, 2004.
10
The Power of Virginity: Isabella’s Quest for Control
by Wendy Carpenter
(Honors English 228)
The Assignment: Choose a short scholarly article relating to the Shakespeare play
or sonnet you chose, summarize the article’s argument objectively and lucidly,
then refute it with your own. Include documentation.
I
n Shakespeare’s so called “tragicomedy” Measure for Measure, the protagonist, Isabella, has
been the source of much debate among critics. She has been characterized as either wrong or
right, selfish or virtuous. However, these simple labels miss the key point of Isabella’s
struggle—the struggle for power in her life and control over her own body. As critic Marcia
Riefer suggests, “Over the centuries, Isabella has been labeled either “angel” or “vixen,” as if a
judgment of her moral nature were the only important statement to be made about her” (Riefer
131). The conflict in Measure for Measure is not whether Isabella’s decision to remain a virgin
is wrong or right; instead, her chastity demonstrates her attempt to exert power in a society in
which women were often powerless. When Isabella is confronted with the choice of giving her
body over to what she calls “abhorred pollution” or her having her brother executed, she opts to
retain control by protecting herself first. She is neither wrong nor right; she is merely trying to
“save her own skin,” so to speak, from the oppressive forces that work in her society.
Understanding this decision as anything else is to admit that Isabella is either angel or vixen, to
which she is neither. Critic R.W. Chambers argues, “The honour of her family and her religion
are more to her than mere life, her own or Claudio’s”(109). This assumption would contend that
Isabella always takes the moral high ground, but, in fact, the text shows that she often does what
could be considered morally wrong while trying to exert power and control throughout her
ordeal—ultimately proving that she is neither angel nor vixen, but merely human.
R.W. Chambers’ assumptions are articulated in his essay “Isabella Approved” in which
he begins by saying, “If we fail to see the nobility of Isabel, we cannot see the story as we
should” (106). He contends that Isabella’s instant decision to refuse Angelo’s offer would be
understood by Shakespearian audiences as a type of martyrdom. He says, “Christianity could
have never lived through its first three hundred years of persecution, if its ranks had not been
stiffened by men and women who never hesitated in the choice between righteousness and the
ties to their kinsfolk” (107). He further argues this point by quoting biblical verses such as, “If
any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother,... and brethren and sisters,...he cannot
be my disciple”( 107). Chambers goes on to express amazement at critics’ sympathetic responses
to Claudio’s plea for life when he says, “Sweet sister, let me live.” Chambers then says, “And I
am even more amazed at the dislike which the critics feel for the tortured Isabel” (108). As a
result, he says, “Have the critics never seen a human soul or a human body in the extremity of
torment?”(109). All along Chambers is extremely sympathetic towards Isabella’s decision to
choose chastity over her brother’s life. The overriding theme of his essay presents only two
viewpoints of Isabella; either she is “selfish and cold” or, as he supports, she is “noble,” but he
never deals with the idea that she could be a bit of both, making her human.
11
Although there are many scenes in which Isabella can be viewed as virtuous, there are
also many that demonstrate a tendency toward self-preservation, or even selfishness. For
instance, when she is confronted by Angelo’s demand she says, “Better it were a brother died at
once than a sister, by redeeming him, should die forever”(2.4.114). This line shows that she is
more concerned with remaining in control of her own body than with her brother’s life. In the
scene when she tells Claudio of Angelo’s demand and Claudio asks her to cooperate, Isabella
says, “O you beast! O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!...Might but my bending down
reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed. I’ll pray a thousand prayers for thy death”
(3.1.153). This strongly worded speech is unwarranted. Since Angelo’s demand of Isabella is
Claudio’s only chance to live, Claudio must at least try to convince her. Another time in which
Isabella shows her true colors is when she learns of Claudio’s supposed death from the Duke as
Friar and expresses her desire for revenge upon Angelo by wanting to “pluck out his
eyes”(4.3.128). The last, and maybe most precarious, statement is when she is told of the Duke’s
plan to play the “bed trick” by switching Isabella’s chastity for Mariana’s. During this scene she
says, “The image of it gives me content already, and I trust it will grow to a most prosperous
perfection” (3.2.286). These lines establish that Isabella is no angel.
Critic Madeleine Doran contrasts Chambers’ essay by saying, “I think a careful reading
of the play shows that Shakespeare meant to put the primary emphasis on the problem of the
exercise of power, the problem he solves, and not on the problem of Isabella’s chastity”(115).
This makes perfect sense considering Isabella is just another pawn trying to remain in control
while the Duke pulls the strings. Another interesting point is made by Marcia Riefer in her essay
“‘Instruments of Some More Mightier Member’: The Constriction of Female Power in Measure
for Measure”:
The prime victim of the Duke’s flawed dramaturgy is, of course, Isabella, who,
more than any of Shakespeare’s heroines so far, is excluded from the ‘privileges
of comedy,’ namely the privileges from which, Linda Bamber claims, it is
Shakespeare’s men who are typically excluded. Deprived of her potential for
leadership, Isabella succumbs to the control of a man she has no choice but to
obey—a man whose orders are highly questionable—and as a consequence her
character is markedly diminished. (133)
This theory seems to explain Isabella’s staunch conviction to remain chaste in light of her other
actions and against the threat of her brother’s death. Controlling her own body demonstrates the
one thing she actually can control to a certain extent. This line of thought goes to show that
Isabella is neither saint nor sinner, but simply struggling to maintain some semblance of self in
the predicament to which she is trapped. She is trying not to become “markedly diminished.”
The strides Isabella has taken to protect herself from the patriarchal society of her day are
apparent when the reader first encounters her speaking to a sworn Nun of the Saint Clares. Their
conversation is revealing and the reader learns the restrictions placed upon the vowed nuns in
this particular cloister. For example, the vowed nuns are not allowed to speak to men except
under very specific circumstances. The Saint Clare Nun says to Isabella, “When you have
vowed, you must not speak to men” (1.4.11). Isabella’s words also serve to show her
determination to separate from society. After learning the “privileges” of the sisterhood, Isabella
tells the nun that she was, “...wishing a more strict restraint” (1.4.4). One can conclude from
12
these lines that Isabella has made a decision to withdraw from the company of men. Marcia
Riefer elaborates on this concept:
For Isabella, in light of the Vienna facing her, sexuality and self-esteem are
mutually exclusive options. She has made her choice before she ever sets foot on
stage. A woman in her position would not make such a decision without
difficulty, even resentment. Isabella realizes that her ‘prosperous art,’ her ability
to ‘play with reason and discourse’ (1.2.184-185), would be wasted in the city.
(136-137)
Exactly why Isabella has made this choice is unknown, but one can assume that she has
good reason and that experience has lead her to this point in her life. Isabella’s decision
and words represent her humanity and frailty.
The one thing Isabella has control over, her virginity, is eclipsed by the absolute control
that the Duke has over her actions. One must question Isabella’s virtuousness when she is
completely willing to be an accomplice in the Duke’s twisted plot. Upon learning of her
brother’s death from the Duke as Friar, Isabella is rightly upset and, then, wishes vengeance
upon Angelo. The Duke insists that Isabella “...pace your wisdom in that good path that I wish it
go...And you shall have...revenges of your heart” (4.3.143-147). Isabella promptly replies, “I am
directed by you” (4.3.149). In the next scene, Isabella and Mariana converse about their role in
accusing Angelo of misdeeds. Again, Isabella concedes her better judgment to the Duke. She
says, “To speak so indirectly I am loath. I would say the truth, but to accuse him so that is your
part; yet I am advised to do it, he says, to veil full purpose” (4.6.1-4). Admittedly, Isabella is
trying to reconcile her own deception by justifying it as advice from the Friar. Marcia Riefer
agrees that the Duke negates Isabella’s strong-willed character. Riefer explains:
Whatever autonomy Isabella possessed in the beginning of the play, whatever
‘truth of spirit’ she abided by, disintegrates once she agrees to serve in the Duke’s
plan. As soon as this ‘friar’ takes over, Isabella becomes an actress whose words
are no longer her own. (140)
Isabella’s willingness to go along with the Duke’s plan can be seen as a selfish device, but, under
the circumstances, this action should also be recognized as self-preservation. She is neither
wrong nor right, but just trying to survive her ordeal. Although the plan is flawed, what other
options are available to Isabella?
Again the question arises: Is Isabella’s decision right, wrong or somewhere in between?
Critics have historically viewed her as angel or vixen and R.W. Chambers notes her decision as
“noble.” However, the play provides many examples of questionable ethics in Isabella’s
behavior. Madeleine Doran points out that Measure for Measure is primarily about the “exercise
of power” not, necessarily, morality (115). The play also gives an exposition into Isabella’s
attempts to protect herself from the world through joining a convent—showing her humanity and
frailty. As a result, the Duke is able to control her actions and negate her strength of character.
What can be surmised of Isabella is that she is only human. She is not perfect or imperfect, but
merely trying to survive the situation she has been plunged into. Her actions are akin to
justifiable homicide or self-defense. The real genius of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure is
that Isabella is faced with a lose/lose situation and the audience is left to interpret for themselves
13
if she has made a wise decision. Thus, Isabella’s overall struggle for power may be the main
conflict element of the play, but her decision to remain chaste runs a close second. In the end,
Isabella’s “Catch 22” highlights the critical issue of women’s rights in a time when there were
none. Marcia Riefer confers:
But regardless of the playwright’s intention, Measure for Measure, more than any
of his previous plays, exposes the dehumanizing effect on women of living in a
world dominated by powerful men who would like to re-create womanhood
according to their fantasies. (144)
Works Cited
Chambers, R.W. “Isabella Approved.” Twentieth Century Interpretations of Measure for
Measure. Ed. George Geckle. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1970. 106-109.
Doran, Madeleine. “Two Problems in Measure for Measure.” Twentieth Century Interpretations
of Measure for Measure. Ed. George Geckle. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1970. 111-113.
Riefer, Marcia. “‘Instruments of Some More Mightier Member’: The Constriction of Female
Power in Measure for Measure.” Modern Critical Interpretations. Ed. Harold Bloom.
New York: Chelsea House, 1987. 131-144.
Shakespeare, William. Measure for Measure. New York: Washington Square, 1997.
14
Judgment, Narrative & Redemption in the Tympanum at Conques-en-Rouergue
by Meredith Carey
(Art 212)
The Assignment: Within the parameters of the course, students were asked to
write an 8-10 page research paper on a topic of their own choosing.
“I am the door: by me if any man enter, he shall be saved” (John 10:9)
O
ne cannot begin to study anything Romanesque without encountering a few sentences in
Raoul Glaber’s famous comment on the dramatic rise of the church in this period. Allow
me to refresh the reader’s memory: “[After the] year of the millennium…there occurred,
throughout the world… a rebuilding of church basilicas… It was as if the whole earth, having
cast off the old by shaking itself were clothing itself everywhere in the white robe of the church”
(Gardner 342). Monastic power and influence was rising; the celebration of Mass was becoming
“increasingly extravagant… [requiring] special rooms and spaces in order to create and maintain
a proper feeling of reverence” (Toman 9). This, along with the vast numbers of pilgrims on the
roads of Europe, led to new developments in architecture and sculpture, and particularly the
sculpture of the church’s façade. The influence of pilgrimage on exterior church sculpture cannot
be underestimated; Rolf Toman writes in the introduction to his anthology, Romanesque, “in
order to appeal to these pilgrims, Romanesque art developed its characteristic iconographic
programs” (9). Romanesque sculpture also moved into an architectural area previously
unexplored: the tympanum. Perhaps nowhere else is the aforementioned iconographic program
expressed more completely than in tympanum sculpture; “many of them,” writes Toman,
“include scenes from the Last Judgment – with God the Father in His role as stern judge of the
world and frightful representations of hell” (9).
The tympanum of the west portal of the abbey church of Ste-Foy in Conques-enRouergue is the one that, I think, illustrates this iconographic program most completely.
However, to talk about Romanesque depictions of the Last Judgment solely in terms of, well,
judgment is to only tell half the story. While the graphic depictions of hell in Romanesque Last
Judgment portrayals certainly steal the show, there is much more to the message of these
sculptures than just the threat of damnation. Within this sculptural program, a wealth of religious
symbols can be found whose meanings were well known to the contemporary viewer. I believe
this image of the Last Judgment at Conques can be interpreted as a narrative, readable by literate
and illiterate, aristocrat and peasant alike, and that it incorporates elements into the narrative that
expand the role of Christ to include both Judge and Redeemer.
There are many tympanum sculptures that depict the theme of the Last Judgment, and
they share many compositional elements. Minne-Seve and Kergall examine, among other
themes, some of the general conventions of Romanesque religious symbolism in Romanesque
and Gothic France. This is a symbolism that intertwines everyday life inextricably with religious
fundamentalism; “for those who lived in France in the first centuries of the millennium, day-today life came down to a duel between Good and Evil” (Minne-Seve and Kergall 85). The battle
15
between God and Devil or, on a more everyday and, perhaps, more personal level, Virtue and
Vice “becomes a … fight within the soul” (85) that is expressed in almost all sculptural art of the
period; it is expressed most graphically in tympanum sculptures of the Last Judgment. Within
these images, Virtue is weighed against Vice, both literally, in representations of the weighing of
souls, and symbolically. The faithful Virtuous are rewarded, the Evil damned, and in this way the
“Romanesque church…propose[s] a totalitarian symbolism to the faithful that ‘shows’ the path
of truth” (Minne-Seve and Kergall 85).
The central image is, of course, the most important, and I think that speaks for itself. In
all early medieval church portal sculpture, and really, in most medieval art of any kind, Jesus
Christ is always the obvious focal point. At Conques, He is surrounded by heavenly symbols that
place Him in an unearthly setting; clouds, stars, and Sun and Moon surround His mandorla. This
sets the stage for the Second Coming: surrounded by heavenly attributes, Christ is descending
from Heaven to earth to judge the dead, who can be seen in the spandrel below His right foot,
coming out of their graves to be judged as angels. His right hand is raised towards heaven, while
His left motions downward towards the damned in Hell.
It is interesting to note that Minne-Seve and Kergall do not see this as a depiction of
Christ as Judge, which is the role He plays most often in the Romanesque period. The most
graphic expression of this widespread interpretation of Christ can be seen in the sculptural
program of the west portal of the church of St-Lazare at Autun. Here, Christ looks, almost glares,
imposingly down upon the viewer from the center; to His right is the glory of Heaven, and to His
left is a vision of Hell so frightful that it has the power to horrify even today’s viewers. This
portal sports quite possibly the evilest demons in Romanesque sculpture, with contorted bodies,
long, spindly legs and frightful grimaces, which serve to emphasize the finality and authority of
Christ the Judge. At Conques, however, Minne-Seve and Kergall write that “in spite of the
finality of the gesture of the right hand raised towards Heaven for the elect and the left lowered
in the direction of infernal chaos, the Conques Christ in Majesty is not threatening. The immense
cross raised behind Him signifies that He is above all the Redeemer…emphasized by the angels
[in the uppermost register of the tympanum] bearing the instruments of His Passion” (138).
This interpretation seems to be up for debate. Uwe Geese notes in his “Romanesque
sculpture” that arma Christi are “rather unusual in depictions of the Last Judgment, and should
be interpreted as symbols of that triumph” (329), to emphasize Christ’s power. He also writes
that the Judge role is “confirmed by the angel above the right row of apostles who is arriving
carrying the judge’s crown” (329). Geese is not alone in this assessment; most seem to interpret
the Conques Christ in Majesty as the strict, almighty Universal Judge rather than the Redeemer
role that He would come to play in just a few decades.
The grotesque depiction of Hell at Conques certainly seems to emphasize Christ’s role as
Judge. Who but the sternest judge would condemn the hapless to a sentence such as this?
Demons gnaw at the heads and feet of the damned; people are mangled, maimed, taunted and
flogged by jeering demons. A knight and his horse are tumbling headfirst through the Maw of
Hell at the door while a man of the church, standing to the Devil’s right, awaits his cruel
prescription. The personified Vices are also found in Hell; to the priest’s right stands Lust, naked
to the waist, and a Vain knight and a hanging Miser (also interpreted as Judas) are in the Devil’s
immediate vicinity. While the message of these frightful phantasms does not seem to require
much explanation, given its context, the meaning of the monstrous in Romanesque sculpture is
examined in Thomas Dale’s “Monsters, corporeal deformities and phantasms in the cloister of
St-Michel-de-Cuxa.” He traces the origins of medieval images of the monstrous to a monastic
16
setting, where they were intended as a departure point for devotion and reflection. Granted,
tympanum sculpture is public and therefore markedly different from cloister sculpture, which
makes the application of his writing to this situation limited. But he makes an important liturgical
connection between image and mass; he ties this imagery to the ‘judgment and punishment of the
damned in the offertory of the Requiem Mass… ‘save the souls of all the faithful deceased from
the infernal punishments and the deep pit, save them from the mouth of the lion’ (Dale 413). The
“mouth of the lion” refers, he writes, to the monstrous Maw of Hell so widely depicted in early
medieval Last Judgments. Here it is shown as the actual doorway into hell; demons are shoving
several people into it, including a knight along with his horse. “The sinner’s body is assimilated
to that of the monstrous behemoth.” (Dale 413). Most of his article deals with the concept that
images of monstrous and deformed bodies were seen by monks in a context that tied corporeal
deformity and monstrousness to a corresponding “deformity”, so to speak, of the mind; whether
or not the broader audience of the Conques tympanum went so far is unclear. What is clear was
that that audience was familiar with the symbolism of Hell; it was not just a picture of random
ghastliness.
It is interesting that looking at one of these images, especially one like Conques, which
depicts the tortures and denizens of hell in frighteningly graphic detail, one, gets a really good
idea of what was going to happen to the bad folks. In contrast, the Kingdom of Heaven on Jesus’
right side, while offering comforting relief from the torturous chaos of hell, doesn’t seem to sport
much action. One might even say that although Hell is frightening, it’s much more exciting, even
fun to look at, and the cavorting demons have an almost entertaining quality. Heaven, on the
other hand, is ordered and serene, one might almost say boring, and, aside from standing around
looking grateful, nobody appears to be up to much. It seems at first glance that the message of
these images is to scare the viewer straight, rather than to show him the rewards of willingly
walking the righteous path. A closer look at the iconography provided at
http://www.conques.com reveals much more going on, albeit symbolically rather than
graphically. It is important to recognize who these people are and what they represent. Directly
to the right of Christ are the Blessed Virgin Mary, St. Peter with his keys, and a procession of the
obligatory contemporary noblemen, along with several important saints. Below the procession in
the lower register is an arcade under which figures are standing and seated. The oil-lamps
hanging from the ceiling of the arcade resemble the oil-lamps that were actually hanging inside
the church at Conques at the time (http://ww.conques.com/indes1.htm#SOMMAIRE), which
elevates the church itself into a heavenly context.
The figures in this lower register represent a marriage of Old Testament to New
Testament. The Old Testament prophets are there with scrolls while the New Testament apostles
carry a book; martyrs bearing palms appear alongside the holy women and good virgins
(http://www.conques.com/index1.htm#SOMMAIRE). The most important figure is the figure at
the center. While the Devil in Hell sits at the center of the lower left register, the man in the
center of the arcade in the lower right register is Abraham, gathering two Blessed souls to his
bosom. In his article “Medieval Abraham: between fleshly patriarch and divine father,” Jerome
Baschet examines the way that Abraham stood in medieval art for heaven and heavenly reward.
He is most commonly understood as representing God the Father; the sacrifice of Isaac is used
often in Christian art to symbolize God giving His only son Jesus Christ, as a sacrifice to the
world. There is however, a more complex meaning behind the presence of Abraham at the Last
Judgment.
This image would also have been well know to all through its liturgical ties; Baschet
17
writes that “the concept [of Abraham as a symbol of heavenly reward] is given great importance
in the liturgy for the dead, in which prayers are said for the soul of the deceased to be received in
the Bosom of Abraham” (739). He is the literal ancestor of Jesus Christ and the spiritual father of
the Christian church, and is “often mentioned in a context concerning the fate of souls before the
Last Judgment” (Baschet 739). Abraham, then, is not just an Old Testament character who
appears here just to round out the Biblical pageant. He is the symbol of a real, tangible reward;
“when the Bosom of Abraham is integrated into the Last Judgment, the uniformity of the elect at
his breast contrasts strikingly with the marked different social groups amongst the elect when
they are shown [in other depictions]. The organization of earthly society…disappears completely
on entering the Kingdom of Heaven” (Baschet 741). Baschet goes on to quote Matthew 18:3:
“Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter the kingdom of
heaven.” In fact, the elect gathered to Abraham’s breast in the Conques tympanum look rather
child-like compared to the other figures in their register, and perhaps have literally “become as
little children.” In this context, the presence of Abraham can be interpreted to symbolize “a real
metamorphosis [that] takes place on entering the Gates of Heaven…the swing from an…earthly
social order to a…more ideal order” (Baschet 741).
Geese writes that “life in the middle ages was always lived in a state of direct
confrontation with death” (328). This confrontation certainly seems to be strongly addressed in
the tympanum at Conques. In order to really grasp its meaning, though, one has to ask, who were
these images intended for? Whose fears were played upon?
The answer is: pilgrims. The practice of pilgrimage to the shrines of Western Europe was
in full swing for several hundred years by the beginning of the Romanesque period and reached
its apogee in the twelfth century (Minne-Seve & Kergall 132). In fact, the Codex Calixtimus,
produced around 1140, contained in its text what came to be called the Pilgrim’s Guide (Webb
24). The book maps out many of the pilgrimages routes of the time, describes to pilgrims some
of the shrines they should visit, and most importantly, “suggests that a host of shrines…many of
them the foci of regional pilgrimages of some consequence, such as Conques…were being
increasingly linked into an interconnected network” (Webb 126).
The cult of relics that surrounded many medieval churches drew quite a throng. By the
twelfth century, churches like Ste-Foy, that had had their beginnings as small, secluded country
monasteries, had spawned a veritable medieval urban sprawl. Markets sprang up around
churches, and the monasteries’ ownership and management of vast tracts of land led to a
booming urban real estate market and the rise of a small urban community in the vicinity of
Conques (Webb 33-34).
Webb gives us a sense of the universality of medieval pilgrimage: “no class of medieval
society was entirely excluded from the practice of pilgrimage” (78). Everybody went, from
people of means whose “wealth and high status facilitated the making of long journeys” (Webb
78) to “people who spent much of their lives in what was effectively a condition of vagrancy
lightly colored as pilgrimage” (78). Minne-Seve and Kergall describe Conques as “the jewel of
the journey” on the route from Limousin to Santiago de Compostela (134), partly due to the
spectacular gold reliquary statue of Ste-Foy that it housed. All this shows us that the portal at
Conques was created with a wide audience in mind. In short, this image and images like it were
not only meant to be seen, but, especially in light of their placement over what was usually the
only lay entrance into the church, they were meant to be seen by all. One can almost picture the
pilgrimage routes as the interstates of a different era, and see “generations of the faithful
experience[ing]… the visual shock of the impressive Last Judgment looming over them,
18
sparkling with fresh and lively colors” (Minne-Seve and Kergall 138).
There is one other function of the medieval church portal, and therefore the sculptural
program of the portal, that I would like to note. In her article “Medieval church portals and their
importance in the history of law,” Barbara Deimling discusses some of the contemporary uses of
the church door as a site for formal and informal legal proceedings. “The frequency with
which…[the Last Judgment]…appear[s] has to be seen in the context of the most important
events regularly to take place in front of the church portal: secular and ecclesiastical trials”
(Deimling 324). The portal was at the same time a place to sign contracts, swear oaths, seek
asylum, and formalize trade agreements. (Deimling 326). The practice spanned centuries, and the
fact that numerous decrees had to be issued over the years forbidding or regulating it illustrates
just how widespread a practice it was. (Deimling 324).
The portal was also incorporated into official judicial sentencing. Raymond VI, a duke
doing penance for the murder of the papal legate, was sentenced to make a pilgrimage to the
portal of the abbey church in Saint-Gilles-du-Gard; interestingly, he was required to make his
penitential pilgrimage stark naked (Deimling 324). Walks such as this were “public rite[s] of
repentance [which] took place by the church portal as… [they were] judicial act[s] that
comprised the punishment and reconciliation of the sinner. According to the rules of the rite of
repentance, sinners upon whom this punishment had been laid were driven out of the church on
Ash Wednesday…[and] the public act of repentance culminated in a rite of reconciliation on
Maundy Thursday…[when] the sinners had to come to the church portal, where the priest would
take them by the right hand and lead them back into the church” (Deimling 326). This practice is
depicted in the center of the lowest register of the tympanum at Conques, where the angel at the
gate of Heaven is seen taking one of the Blessed by the right hand to lead him through the door
of Paradise. “The medieval church portal should be interpreted… [as] the place of judgment, the
gateway to Paradise which is open to the just” (Deimling 326).
This use of church doors for legal purposes would certainly seem to support the view of
Romanesque Christ as Judge. If life in the early middle ages was, as Geese writes, lived in “a
state of direct confrontation with death” (328), then everyday life would have been lived in direct
confrontation with threats of all stripes, and “the threat which continued to make itself felt, and
was sensed with even greater presence in the early Middle Ages, was the Old Testament threat of
the God of Vengeance. This God was now enthroned as the new Testament Judge of the World
over church portals, within the new tympanum” (Geese 328). Man’s fear of death was a fact of
life, to be sure, but it “was above all a deep-rooted religious fear” (Geese 328), an eschatological
reality. At the beginning of the Romanesque period, it was the saints and their relics that were
viewed as the intermediary between the poor sinners on earth and the Kingdom of God, but by
the twelfth century, the idea of purgatory as an intermediary between heaven and hell was
beginning to take shape. This could be one reason why, just a hundred years later, Christ was
depicted in a much less threatening manner in Gothic tympanums that show many of the same
compositional elements as those of the Romanesque period. The Judge role was undoubtedly the
one played most often in Romanesque art, and despite its detractors, this view seems to be the
best-supported, but there is no reason why this particular depiction at Conques cannot be viewed
as showing transitional elements, or elements that suggest both a stern judge and a merciful
redeemer.
The attributes of the Passion are symbols often connected with the idea of redemption
through Christ, because they emphasize His suffering for mankind. The image of the dead being
raised from their graves by angels also echoes the Resurrection of Christ, which is another
19
symbol associated more often with redemption than judgment.
When we think of who this image was intended for, we think of a group of people that,
towards the close of the twelfth century, were becoming somewhat more plebeian in nature, a
“pilgrim population…[that] undoubtedly overlapped with a half-world or vagabonds and
displaced persons” (Webb 112). We are reminded that this was an age where very few people
were literate and therefore, very few people could read the scriptures for themselves.
Tympanums such as the one at Conques can be seen to represent not a frozen image, but a
narrative image readable by literate and illiterate alike, noble and vagabond, clergy or layman.
The origins of images such as these in monasteries, where they may have been intended, as Dale
postulates, as departure points for contemplation, would certainly point in that direction. It is
easy to imagine what would have been going through Raymond IV’s mind as he stood, naked,
before the image of Christ in Majesty at the Last Judgment, in penitence for his crime. It is also
easy to imagine why the church portal became the most popular spot for signing contracts and
swearing oaths. Who would want to break their word when it had been witnessed both by Christ
and by the horrible denizens of Hell?
If there is one question in the Bible that is returned to again and again, and one message
that carries the most weight, it is the question of the destination of the eternal soul. If the bulk of
Christian art from this period could be seen as an educational picture-book of Christian doctrine,
then the Last Judgment could almost be viewed as a sort of ultra-abridged version of the entire
bible. Medieval faith was not based on the notion of fate or predestination; rather, the believer’s
own virtue was in his own hands. The summation of his deed would ultimately be judged by
God, through His son Jesus Christ; “I am the door: by me if any man enter, he shall be saved”
(John 10:9). Christ is the redemptive bond between Heaven and earth; to enter the church itself
one must pass through His door, and to gain admittance to the Kingdom of Heaven, all a man has
to do is ask.
Works Cited
Bashcet, Jerome. “Medieval Abraham: between fleshly patriarch and divine father.” MLN. 1993.
Literature Resource Center. Gale Group Databases. College of DuPage Lib., IL. 21
November 2004. http://infotrac.galegroup.com.Irc.cod.edu
Dale, Thomas E. A. “Monsters, Corporeal Deformities, and Phantasms in the Cloister of StMichel-de-Cuxa.” Art Bulletin 83 (2001): 402-437.
Deimling, Barbara. “Medieval church portals and their importance in the history of law.”
Romanesque. Ed. Rolf Toman. Koln, Germany: Konemann, 1997.
Conques Del’an mil a l’an 2000. Jean-Claude Fau, ed. 27 November 2004.
http://www.conques.com/indes1.htm#SOMMAIRE
Gardner, Helen. Art Through the Ages. 11th ed. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth/Thomson Learning.
Geese, Uwe. “Romanesque sculpture.” Romanesque Ed. Rolf Toman. Koln, Germany:
Konemann, 1997.
20
Minne-Seve, Viviane, and Herve Kergall. Romanesque and Gothic France. New York: Harry N.
Abrams, Inc., 2000.
Toman, Rolf. “Introduction.” Romanesque. Ed. Rolf Toman. Koln, Germany: Konemann, 1997.
Webb, Diana. Medieval European Pilgrimage. New York: Palgrave, 2002.
21
22
Roger de Piles in the 21st Century
by Thomas Ferguson
(Honors Art 212)
The Assignment: Students were assigned to write a paper critiquing the system of
18th century academic Roger de Piles, analyzing specific artists, determining its
influence in this century, and identifying strengths and deficiencies of de Piles’
system.
B
ernard Picart’s 1704 engraved portrait of Roger de Piles, French critic, academic, and
failed painter, captures the pedantic nature of the man; de Piles seems aloof and refined as
he poses with his hands daintily resting upon a book, his eyes resting on a place beyond
the frame, beyond the viewer. Skliar-Piguet writes that by 1699, de Piles had “come to be
recognized as one of the most eminent figures in the world of art,” having been “appointed
Conseiller Honoraire to the Académie Royale” (2). Skliar-Piguet points to the fact that de Piles is
responsible for the academic division of artists into “schools,” and true to form, chose an artist
famous for documenting and distinguishing between various cultures. The framing of the piece,
as a painting within an engraving, reflects on his career and small accomplishments as a painter
himself.
De Piles’ 1708 “Balance des Peintres” details and amasses a series of ratings for the
great Italian artists; some ratings are similar to the same prejudices Art holds today, while others
seem to adhere to a system either embryonic or archaic. De Piles rates the canon of European
painters based on four categories: expression, composition, color, and drawing, assigning each
category a point value, the maximum of which is ten. One of the more archaic judgments on the
part of de Piles, in my estimation, is a zero awarded to Giovanni Bellini in the category of
expression. Reading this raised my ire, and I prepared to arm myself in order to exonerate
Bellini.
After racking myself for days plotting to destroy de Piles’ system in reference to Bellini
and his remarkable zero, I’d actually begun to understand de Piles’ methodology. Given that
posterity has not provided us with grades specific to the paintings themselves, only the painters, I
began to compare the students with the teacher to attempt to elucidate de Piles. I surmise that as
the grades in the case of Bellini/Giorgione/Titian do rise with the quality as the art is passed on
and modified, there must be a guiding rhythm to his academic approach. To my surprise, this
rhythm actually became resonant with me as I studied it.
Bellini’s zero in the category of expression is inexcusable, especially in the greater
context of Art at large. While he is not at the expressive level of da Vinci’s lucid silverpoints
(giving da Vinci fourteen points), one need only look at his Entombment to realize that Bellini is
no expressive amateur. Yet Bellini is arguably weaker in this arena than his students, Giorgione
and Titian, and receives a score in expression that is fitting relative to them (four and six points,
respectively). It is difficult not to notice that Titian’s ostensible student Tintoretto suffers the
same fate under de Piles’ hand as his artistic forbears. The problem, it would seem, is not so
much that de Piles cannot recognize progress or quality, but is disparaging of the entire Venetian
23
school grown from Bellini.
Venice at this point does seem to be falling behind its contemporaries and compatriots.
Gardner’s reflects this sentiment, referring to Parmigianino as one who wields “exquisite grace
and precious sweetness” (563), and refers to the Mannerists as a whole as “most often
achiev[ing] the sophisticated elegance they sought in portraiture” (564). Gardner’s reflection on
Bellini elicits no comparable excitement in the realm of expression, even ascribing a painting’s
“feeling of serenity and spiritual calm” to “less from the figures… than from the harmonious and
balanced presentation of color and light” (553). De Piles seems to reserve the category of
expression for the human figure, while expression through color and light falls into that of color
itself. This explains Carravaggio’s similar marks; the paintings may be enough to bring a viewer
to awe or tears, yet the faces, as in Bellini, are rather stoic and lack movement.
Bellini’s school is thusly awarded consistently high marks in color, and rightly so.
Gardner attributes to Bellini “an important role in developing the evocative use of color…”
(552). Bellini’s influence is also justifiably seen in the grading of his students; Giorgione and
Titian both receive scores of eighteen points, “the highest attainable achievement” (36),
according to Rosenberg. This trend can be seen as the inverse of da Vinci’s grades, which are
high in expression but abominably low in color. Da Vinci mastered the art of glowing, soft
modeling, yet his colors often seem generally washed out. Da Vinci expresses through figures
and movement while the Venetians express through color. Throughout Roger de Piles’ “Balance
des Peintres,” these two categories are nearly exclusive to one another; a gain in one is matched
by a reduction in the other, as if past artists were forced to embrace one as if it were a polar
opposite to the other. This is in contrast to the other pair of categories, composition and drawing,
which are routinely matched within one or two points. Only de Piles’ precious Rubens breaks out
of this cycle with scores of seventeen and seventeen points in color and expression.
That Roger de Piles gradually acknowledges the Venetian school’s ability in composition
and drawing does not mean that Bellini’s razing is over. Though he doubles his composition
score through his student Giorgione and triples it through Titian, Bellini scores but a score of
four, the lowest by two steps of any artist of the “Peintres.” Like his score for expression, I find
the score fitting when relative to the Venetian school he founded, yet exceedingly low when
compared to contemporary artists of other regions. I believe that the same razor that de Piles
applies to expression is used here. While Bellini’s figures are excellent as representations of
figurines or ornaments, they do not appear to be engaged in any type of situation relevant to
reality. The trees, landscapes, and architecture of Bellini are surprisingly mimetic, showing a
great overall compositional ability, yet what matters here is again the expressiveness of the
composition. The composition of Carravaggio’s figures again show relevance to a discussion of
Bellini, Carravaggio receiving a similar grade, and his figures again look more like ceramic
figurines than breathing people. The former’s style is perhaps more corporeally realistic than
Bellini’s, but the placement of figures recalls pageantry vice poetry in both. As technically
perfect as an artist could be, had he not communicated an enthusiasm through the work, he
would not qualify in de Piles’ system. Bernd Krysmanski relates a passage of de Piles’
elaborating this, writing that “enthusiasm is a rapture that carries the soul above the sublime”
(301).
Drawing and composition, we’ve established, generally carry similar grades in this
system. Bellini is no exception, and because of the correlation between the two, I am forced to
expect much of the same rationale behind a grade of six. I find it unfortunate that de Piles didn’t
allow for a category based solely on technical ability, for Bellini’s open spaces, including his
24
clouds and trees and skies, are so delicate and brilliant that I’m sure such a category would have
raised his stature considerably. The geometry and level of detail put into the cornices and arches
of the San Zaccaria Altarpiece carries little expressive necessity, but is a welcome and needed
part of the whole. It is evident, as with the other categories, that his students furthered and
modified his skills, and is reflected in the grades. Yet I find that Bellini holds court over his
student in the realm of these seemingly trivial details. Giorgione’s backgrounds seem relatively
flat and contrived, and Titian’s abstracted and lacking in brilliance, but as their figures are
technically and expressively more advanced than Bellini, de Piles embraces them.
My sole point of contention with de Piles’ system is that it is far too based on the figural
elements within the painting. True, de Piles furthers the appreciation of light and color, but it is
always refracted through the factor of the human figures of the paintings. While landscapes were
seen as one of the lowest types of acceptable art as defined by de Piles’ predecessor Poussin,
they still make for an integral part of the composition, one that I find neglected by de Piles.
De Piles’ methodology serves a vital function today as something to rebel against. It is
natural for man to place definitions on things, and de Piles served a function similar to the
purging nature of the Iconoclasts in their many iterations. If one takes a Hegelian look at the
nature of art, it is reasonable to see art movements as similar to epochs, each one rising from the
former as the former has reached exhaustion. Indeed, the Renaissance and Mannerism can be
read as responses to various purging/restrictive measures parallel to the Reformation/CounterReformation. Restrictions placed upon art by critics are no less caustic or necessary than those
put in place by the church or state.
Postmodernism exists only because of the stresses of modernity as defined by the
Bloomsbury Group, amongst others; Modernism, in turn, because of those stresses that fell the
Victorian. I don’t hesitate to hypothesize that the works of Poussin and his junior de Piles have
directly affected the rebellions of Modernism and its issue as well. Rosenberg seems to echo this
trait, if not outright suggesting that de Piles was aware of his role in the larger scheme of things,
“He had to fight very hard indeed to effect even one breach in the closely defended classicistic
wall of his day” (46-7). Rosenberg implies that de Piles is actually on the fresh side of the
oscillation rather than the decaying one, and Alexandra Skliar-Piguet argues that “the talent and
enthusiasm of de Piles were instrumental in preserving painting… in France from stagnation”
(2). Whether an agent of renewal or of restriction, de Piles has arguably served a purpose for the
betterment of Art.
There are those, however, who have fallen along the wayside due to de Piles’ system. De
Piles also can be equated with Arentino, “correcting” Michelangelo’s Last Judgment, demanding
him to “imitate Florence where David wears gilded leaves.” If de Piles had won a battle in the
recognition of fine color, those who fought for subtlety had lost. Della Francesca and Grunewald
are two examples of artists tucked away neatly until 20th century resurrections, forgotten by
anyone but the most diligent collector or historian. This is due in no small part to systems of
qualification that do not account for the plasticity of art, or lack the foresight to see what these
artists were anticipating. The artist must be qualified in order to remain in the canon, and within
the canon, must be rated highly to remain relevant.
De Piles may have condemned some artists to obscurity, yet Art is still refreshed due to
his grading and theorizing. Roger de Piles is among the first to standardize art, to measure its
ebbs and flows, and helped to found a rival power to that of the artist: the critic. Just under two
centuries later, Oscar Wilde captures the essence of what is to come for men like de Piles.
Wilde’s Gilbert answers his Ernest’s question of the independence of criticism: “Yes;
25
independent. Criticism is no more to be judged by any low standard of imitation or resemblance
than is the work of poet or sculptor. The critic occupies the same relation to the work of art that
he criticizes as the artist does to the visible world of form and colour, or the unseen world of
passion and of thought” (220-221). De Piles displays something like an anticipation of Wildean
wit when he writes, “I like Raphael, I like Titian, I like Rubens… But whatever perfection they
possess, I love Truth still better” (32). This Truth of de Piles, consummate academic, will
continue to influence Art for years to come.
Works Cited
Kleiner, F.S., Mamiya, C.J., and Tansey, R.G. Gardner’s Art Through the Ages. 11th ed. United
States: Thomson Wadsworth, 2003.
Rosenberg, Jakob. On Quality in Art: Criteria of Excellence Past and Present. Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press, 1967.
Skliar-Piguet, Alexandra. “Roger de Piles.” Grove Dictionary of Art Online. 2005. University of
Oxford Press. 13 Mar. 2005 <http://0-www.groveart.com.lrc.cod.edu>.
Wilde, Oscar. Literary Criticism of Oscar Wilde. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1968.
26
Racial Profiling Stop Cards: Will The Data Eliminate Profiling?
by Michael Graczyk
(Criminal Justice 151)
The Assignment: Write a research paper involving a constitutional issue.
I. The Beginning of Racial Profiling “Stop Cards”
T
here is no doubt that the majority of society believes racial profiling is wrong. Do you
know that if you are pulled over in Illinois, the police officer is required to fill out a traffic
stop data sheet or stop card with your information even if a ticket is not issued? What
information is required to fill out this card? The information required is as follows: Name,
address, sex, and the race of the driver. The date, the time of the traffic stop, the police officer’s
name, badge number, and the officer’s agency is also required.
II. The Question
Will gathering data on traffic stops eliminate racial profiling? From a civil rights
perspective it is a start to a more equal future. From a law enforcement viewpoint, it adds more
paperwork and criticism to a job that already involves much documentation. Most police feel
that it is just an attempt to limit police discretionary powers. As a U.S. citizen and a resident of
Illinois I am troubled on how uneducated the public is regarding traffic stops that police
administer. My purpose in writing this paper is to better educate the public on the data that
police in Illinois, along with other states, are required to obtain during traffic stops.
III. History of Racial Profiling
A “profile” is defined as a coherent set of facts, known conditions and observable
behavior, which indicates a particular individual, may be engaged in criminal activity. The
“profiling” technique is common and has been a widely used law enforcement tactic.
During the late 1970s, the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) started Operation
Pipeline, and analyzed the methods in which drug networks transported bulk drugs to drug
markets. The DEA began training state and local police in establishing a drug courier profile in
order to establish techniques to stop drug trafficking. While working Operation Pipeline, police
were trained to establish a profile that included evidence of concealment in vehicles, indications
of fast, point-to-point driving, as well as age, and race of drivers. During the course of the
Operation, officers were stopping a lot of subjects with an African-American and Hispanic
ethnicity.
The U.S. Department of Justice investigated the New Jersey State Police in 1998 for
racial profiling certain ethnic groups during traffic stops and for petty criminal offenses. From
this incident on, American news media expanded coverage throughout the county on racial
profiling incidents.1
27
In June 1999, President Bill Clinton spoke at the Strengthening Police-Community
Relations conference in Washington, D.C. At the conference President Bill Clinton declared the
racial profiling practice to be “morally indefensible” and made an announcement that he
supported Congressman John Conyers idea for collecting ethnical statistics from law
enforcement traffic stops.2
February 27, 2001, President George W. Bush directed the Attorney General to review
racial issues by federal law enforcement agencies, and to work with Congress to develop data
collection methods.3
Racial Profiling has been an issue since the development of our Constitution. For
centuries, the government and the public have worked at adopting new laws to eliminate the
problems associated with it. From a law enforcement perspective, allegations of racial profiling
began in the early 1980s. The term “Racial Profiling” originated from America’s war on drugs.
Law-enforcement officers have stopped and detained members of minority groups in vehicles
more than whites. Officers in the past have made the assumption that minorities are more likely
to commit the drug offenses. In a recent study from Northeastern University, law professor
Deborah Ramirez stated “minorities are not more likely to be in possession of contraband than
whites. In many of these studies Latinos are less likely to be carrying contraband.” Race has not
been proved to be a reliable way to profile criminals. Even with a majority of black dealers
being arrested and filling jail cells, whites continue to engage in illicit crimes.4
IV. Collection of Data
Many police municipalities started collecting racial data on traffic stops before new
legislation took place in many states. Highland Park Police Department along with Mt. Prospect
Police Department in Illinois started recording this data because of lawsuits by minorities
claiming racial profiling incidents by police. With the new legislation in Illinois, each law
enforcement agency is required to record the data and send it to the Secretary of State in an
annual report. Illinois Department of Transportation (IDOT) is handling the collection of racial
profiling data along with analysis. IDOT submits analyses to the Governor, the General
Assembly, and each law enforcement agency no later than July 1st of 2005, 2006, 2007, and
2008.5
V. Problems with Data
Problems have already been recorded with the collection of data for 18 states. For
instance, drivers are pulled over in areas where they do not reside. Because of this, comparing
the data is not always exact. Officers may not ask the race of the driver, they guess! ArabAmericans have been profiled more since September 11, but they don’t have a race category on
the sheet. Many are marked white, or other.6
VI. Recent Case Studies in Illinois
Two racial profiling cases within Illinois sparked national attention on racial profiling
incidents. The two agencies involved were Highland Park Police Department and Mount
Prospect Police Department. In the Highland Park Police Department case, members of the
Department came forward with allegations of racial profiling practices occurring in town.
28
While the investigation was pending, two African-American residents of Highland Park came
forward also stating they were stopped and interrogated by police due to their race.
The City of Highland Park, Illinois along with the residents involved in the lawsuit
agreed on a class action settlement developing a consent decree. The City of Highland Park
agreed to stop racial profiling, keep records, install AV equipment in squad cars, and establish a
public complaint system, along with extra training. This was established before Illinois
legislation required “stop cards” to be filled out during traffic stops.7
The Village of Mount Prospect also settled a lawsuit filed by three of its police officers
alleging the Police Department targeted Latinos during traffic stops. The Village denied the
allegations, but settled the lawsuit, agreeing to pay three officers $900,000. The Village made an
agreement with the officers not to return to the force in return for the settlement. This settlement
changed the way Mount Prospect Police Department along with other police jurisdictions handle
racial profiling. Mount Prospect Police Department agreed to record the race of drivers stopped
by officers, and eliminated the use of monthly arrest quotas.8
VII. Law Enforcement Perspective
According to most state laws, law enforcement officers are mandated to fill out “stop
card” information during every traffic stop. This, however, has not made the police officer’s job
any easier. Many law enforcement officials do not totally understand the scope of the legal
obligations they must fulfill. Many officers complain that the form adds more paperwork, time,
and extra expense. Some officers even believe the data will single them out, while others are
fully cooperative with compliance.9
From a law enforcement viewpoint, “stop cards” add more paperwork and criticism to a
job that already involves much documentation. Most police feel that it is just an attempt to limit
police discretionary powers.
VIII. The Public Perspective
From a civil rights perspective it is a start to a more equal future. From research, the
public has mixed reactions. Some welcome the idea of collecting data, while others who are
pulled over want their information kept private and feel it is a violation of their rights.
While there are many civil rights groups working strongly at ending racial profiling, the
American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) is one of the most publicized civil rights groups when it
comes to racial profiling. The ACLU has represented most of the defendants involved in racial
profiling lawsuits. The ACLU has set up a racial profiling complaint form that is available on
their website. They also printed a “know your rights, bust card” which instructs a person what to
do in situations when pulled over on traffic stops, being arrested, driving while intoxicated, etc.
The ACLU is also heavily involved in getting new legislation passed to restrict and eliminate
racial profiling.10
There is no doubt in most of society, that racial profiling is wrong. The question I pose is
the following: Will gathering data on traffic stops eliminate the racial profiling issue? Police
Departments are making a point to end racial profiling along with the integration of new racial
profiling policies. Lawmakers are fighting to implement new legislation to eliminate racial
profiling. Sometimes issues are created from added legislation, but one could only wonder if
society will adjust to this one.
29
Endnotes
1
History of Racial Profiling Controversy: Data Collection Resource Center,
http://www.racialprofilinganalysis.neu.edu/
2
Adams, Bill. “U.S. Secretary Of Transportation Slater Calls For Zero Tolerance For Racial
Profiling. U.S. Department of Transportation, Office of Public Affairs News. 8 April 2000. DOT
75-00.
3
Data Collection Resource Center, <http://www.racialprofilinganalysis.neu.edu/>
4
Fauchon, Christina. “Counterpoint: the case against profiling.” International Social Science
Review, Fall-Winter (2004): v79, i3-4, 157-160
5
Data Collection Resource Center, <http://www.racialprofilinganalysis.neu.edu/>
6
Childress, Sarah. “Profiling: Profiling The Police.” Newsweek 9 February 2004: P9
7
Carr, James R. and Elrod, Steven. “Racial Profiling Lawsuit Settlement Hailed as National
Model. Holland + Knight, Governement Notes: August 2001; Volume 4, Issue 1
8
Nickel, Heather. “Driving while black: Charges that police target black and Hispanics for
traffic stops have been grabbing the attention of lawmakers in statehouses throughout the
country. Illinois Periodicals Online. 19 June 2000. <http://www.lib.niu.edu/>
9
McNeil, Brett. “Police balk at new study of profiling; State seeks more data on traffic stops.”
The Chicago Tribune. 4 January 2004, Chicago final ed.: p. 4C.1
10
Racial Justice”, http://www.aclu.org
Works Cited
History of Racial Profiling Controversy: Data Collection Resource Center,
<http://www.racialprofilinganalysis.neu.edu/>
Adams, Bill. “U.S. Secretary Of Transportation Slater Calls For Zero Tolerance For Racial
Profiling. U.S. Department of Transportation, Office of Public Affairs News. 8 April
2000. DOT 75-00.
Fauchon, Christina. “Counterpoint: the case against profiling.” International Social Science
Review, Fall-Winter (2004): v79, i3-4, 157-160
McNeil, Brett. “Police balk at new study of profiling; State seeks more data on traffic stops.”
The Chicago Tribune. 4 January 2004, Chicago final ed.: p. 4C.1
Data Collection Resource Center, <http://www.racialprofilinganalysis.neu.edu/>
Childress, Sarah. “Profiling: Profiling The Police.” Newsweek 9 February 2004: P9
Carr, James R. and Elrod, Steven. “Racial Profiling Lawsuit Settlement Hailed as National
Model.
Holland + Knight, Government Notes: August 2001; Volume 4, Issue 1
30
Nickel, Heather. “Driving while black: Charges that police target black and Hispanics for traffic
stops have been grabbing the attention of lawmakers in statehouses throughout the
country.
Illinois Periodicals Online.19 June 2000. <http://www.lib.niu.edu/>
McNeil, Brett. “Police balk at new study of profiling; State seeks more data on traffic stops.”
The Chicago Tribune. 4 January 2004, Chicago final ed.: p. 4C.1
“Racial Justice”, http://www.aclu.org
31
TRAFF IC ST OP DATA S HEET / S TOP CA RD
Agency Code
Date of Stop (MM/DD/YY)
Officer Name
No.
Time of Stop
Badge #
¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯**DRIVER INFORMATION **¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯
Name of Driver
Address
City
Vehicle Make
State
1. Driver’s Year of Birth:
(Ex: 1957)
2. Driver Sex: 1.  Male
3. Race:
Zip Code
Vehicle Year
2.  Female
1.  Caucasian
4.  Hispanic
2.  African/American
3.  Native American/Alaskan
5.  Asian/Pacific Islander
4. Reason for Stop: 1.  Moving Violation
2.  Equipment
3.  License Plate/Registration
5. If Moving Type of Violation: 1.  Speed 2.  Lane Violation
4. Traffic Sign or Signal
6. Result of Stop:
3.  Seat Belt
5.  Follow too Close
6.  Other
1.  Citation 2.  Written Warning 3.  Verbal Warning/(Stop Card)
7. Type of Roadway:
1.  Interstate 2.  U.S. Highway 3.  State Highway
4.  County/Township Road
5.  City Road
8. Beat Location of Stop:
9. Search Conducted: 1.  Yes
2.  No
¯**IF THE STOP DID NOT RESULT IN A SEARCH THE STOP CARD IS COMPLETE**¯
Indicate if a search was conducted during the traffic stop of any of the following and indicate type
of search conducted for each of the following:
Search Types:
1-Consent 2-Reasonable Suspicion 3-Probable Cause
4-Incidental to Arrest 5-Custodial Arrest 6-Drug Dog Alert 7-Other
10.
Vehicle
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
11.
Driver
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
12.
Passenger 1
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
13.
Passenger 2
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
14.
Passenger 3
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
15.
Passenger 4
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
16.
Passenger 5
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
17.
Passenger 6
1. 
2. 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
The following questions are optional.
18.
Contraband Found:  Yes
19.
If Yes what was found:
 No
1.  Drugs/Alcohol/Paraphemalia 2.  Weapon
3.  Stolen Property
32
4.  Other
Macroinvertebrate Community Effects From the Exclusion of Mammalian Predators
by Victoria Graham
(Biology 110)
The Assignment: Conduct original research and write a technical paper about the
research.
T
he objective of the experiment was to determine if Illinois tallgrass prairie
macroinvertebrate communities are significantly impacted by the exclusion of small
mammals at higher trophic levels. Enclosures were installed adjacent to a pond located in
a re-created prairie; each enclosure was paired with an associated control site nearby. After five
years, both macroinvertebrate and flora communities were inventoried at all sites.
Correspondence analysis results show both macroinvertebrate and flora enclosure communities
are less diverse than control communities supporting the theory of top-down predator-prey
effects. Enclosed flora communities, however, lie outside the range of the control flora
communities and provide possible evidence of bottom-up control. Although both top-down and
bottom-up components may be present, conclusions about the relative importance in defining the
macroinvertebrate community could not be drawn. Expanded data collection and trend analysis
will enable greater scrutiny of the underlying forces that determine the tallgrass prairie
ecosystem.
Introduction
There is debate whether predators shape their community from the top of the food chain
down or, conversely, the community is actually shaped from the bottom of the food chain up.
The top-down argument is based on the delayed density-dependent oscillations in prey
communities (Turchin et al., 1999) and observed negative predator impact on prey (Nelson et al.,
2004). Under high resource conditions, predators can increase prey diversity by feeding on the
more plentiful, aggressive prey limiting their impact and allowing room for more niche species
(Bonsall and Holt, 2003). Without predator feeding, more successful prey would dominate and
drive other prey species into extinction. Contrary to that position, laboratory and field
experiments performed in North American inter-tidal marshes lead to the conclusion that bottomup impacts were more pronounced (Denno et al., 2003). Spartina cordgrass productivity had a
stronger impact on the planthopper prey community than the wolf-spider predator under test.
Would a Midwest tallgrass prairie support the bottom-up theory as well?
A re-created mesic tallgrass prairie was selected as the site for research. Prairies are
recognized as an ecosystem with high species diversity providing plentiful data and reflecting
more distinctly any resultant effects (Hoffman et al., 2001). Native perennial plants support
abundant consumer feeding with little or no indication of resource limitation so primary
productivity is high (Agrawal and Malcolm, 2002; Evans, 1989; Root and Capuccino,1992).
Active microbial symbionts act in conjunction with plants to establish an enriched base for
higher trophic levels (Clay, 2001; Klironomos and Hart, 2001). Kneitel and Chase (2004) show
33
that not only resource levels and predation but disturbance as well all interact to determine the
composition and abundance of a community. Prairies, however, are in a stable climax state with
disturbance. Possible concerns about colonizer-successor cyclic plant population patterns should
not be an issue (Wiegand et al., 1998.)
The top trophic level predators were small mammals common to tallgrass prairie, i.e.
foxes, raccoons, shrews, moles and voles. These animals were excluded for five years from
seven mesh-fenced enclosure sites extending 15 cm subsurface. The prey community consisted
of above ground macroinvertebrates, primarily insects and spiders all unrestricted by the mesh
screening. Macroinvertebrates are of interest because they have a broad influence in all
ecosystems comprising three-quarters of all known species in the United States (Cunningham et
al., 2005). The experiment objective is to determine whether the species in the enclosed areas
are a noticeably different community than the control areas. Under top-down control,
theoretically, lower trophic levels should be more similar (less diverse) in the enclosed regions
when higher trophic levels are excluded. However, if prairies are under bottom-up control, there
should be normal variance in the species but no distinct difference between the enclosed and
control communities.
Site Description & Methods
The study site is the 15 ha Russell Kirt Tallgrass Prairie at the College of DuPage in Glen
Ellyn, IL. Prairie re-creation began in 1985 and has been extended over subsequent years. Kirt
(1996) provides a description of the flora community. Shrews, foxes and raccoons have been
observed in the prairie in conjunction with a healthy insect community. This experiment was
performed in September 2004 around a pond within a ten-year-old portion of mesic tallgrass
prairie maintained with biennial burns. The last burn of the experimental site was in March of
2002.
The seven 2m x 2m enclosure sites were established in 1999. Galvanized chicken wire
was buried to a depth of 15 cm and extended 30cm above surface. The 5 mm mesh size acted to
prevent larger mammalian predator invasion. Each control site (C1-7) was selected within 2 m of
a corresponding enclosure site (E1-7) and was established along the same approximate slope
proceeding to the retention pond.
Data were gathered during multiple sampling sessions in September 2004.
Macroinvertebrate inventories were recorded according to morphotype at the lowest possible
taxonomic level. Prairie flora were classified by genus and species. Descriptive soil temperature
and moisture data were taken using an Aquaterr Temp-200 meter (Aquaterr Instruments, Costa
Mesa, CA). Assemblage structures of the macroinvertebrate communities and floral
communities were summarized using correspondence analysis. The ordination technique offers
to reduce community data to coordinates on a multidimensional plane. Only the first two
dimensions for macroinvertebrates and flora as listed in Table 1 were considered here as they
explain most of the variance in data. Communities which are more similar should have
coordinates that are closer together than communities which are less similar. The Shannon index
was used to measure diversity within each sample site.
34
Results
Inventories of macroinvertebrates and plants found from the sample sites can be obtained
by contacting the Biology Department of the College of DuPage. Table 1 provides physical
measurements and coordinates derived from correspondence analysis. The macroinvertebrate
eigenvalue results in Figure 1 show there is more similarity in the enclosure sites than in the
control sites. Enclosure Dimension 1 eigenvalues have a 1.2 value range and Dimension 2
values have a 1.3 value range. Control Dimension 1 eigenvalues have a 2.9 value range and
Dimension 2 values have a 2.6 value range. Macroinvertebrate enclosure eigenvalue points lie
within the range of the control eigenvalue points. Overall, 39 macroinvertebrate species were
found. Greater species richness was found in the enclosure area: 29 species versus the 26 species
found in the control area. The enclosures had a non-significantly high Shannon diversity value
(1.941 ± .446) than the controls (1.525 ± 0.477) (t = 1.682; p=0.118; df=12). The results indicate
enclosure species richness is within normal variance of the control.
Again, the flora eigenvalue results in Figure 2 show more similarity within the enclosure
sites than the control sites. Enclosure Dimension 1 eigenvalues have a 1.5 value range and
Dimension 2 values have a 1.0 value range. Control Dimension 1 eigenvalues have a 2.6 value
range and Dimension 2 values have a 2.2 value range. Flora enclosure eigenvalue points, for the
most part, lie outside the range of the control eigenvalue points. Enclosure and control areas
each contained 22 different flora species out of the 31 total species found. Variance did not need
to be assessed. The presence of Liatris (Blazingstar) was most notable in that it was located in
four out of the seven enclosure sites but was not found in any control sites.
Discussion
Theoretical top-down effects are supported by the two-dimensional eigenvalue plots
showing greater similarity in data from the enclosed sites than the control sites. A definitive
cause-and-effect relationship was not explored, however. It is unclear why the enclosed site
flora eigenvalue points fall outside the range of the control flora eigenvalue points. Evidence of
initial overlap among control and enclosure points followed by a gradual shift in the set of
enclosure points over time could lead to a stronger top-down control conclusion. Direct
correlation with the exclusion of small mammals could be confirmed by reintroduction of small
mammals through removal of the enclosures. Periodic inventory of the same control and
previously enclosed sites would enable verification of any future eigenvalue data shifts back to
the control data ranges in support of top-down effects.
The current flora eigenvalue point segregation of enclosure and control site data leaves
room for other interpretations than strictly top-down control. One possible explanation is that it
simply reflects the normal sampling variation in the prairie environment. Bottom-up symbiont
effects or specific plant toxicities could explain the enclosure macroinvertebrate eigenvalue point
constraints (Harper, 1977; Janzen, 1969). As a test, additional control sites could be chosen
around the pond including plant species not present in existing control sites. If the new control
site eigenvalues for both flora and macroinvertebrates overlap with the enclosure results, then
normal prairie sampling variance is the more likely explanation and bottom-up effects can
explain the present data.
Denno et al. (2003) state complex communities include both top-down and bottom-up
forces; plants play a role in determining their relative strength. This underlying structure creates
35
the environment to which herbivorous macroinvertebrates respond. Findings in this current
study do not confirm nor refute Denno et al. (2002). Data under conditions of changing
productivity were not collected so the relative importance of higher trophic level predation
versus primary productivity cannot be determined. Site inventory during reduced productivity
intervals occurring at different times of year in the tallgrass prairie or following environmental
disturbance (i.e. a managed burn) could help to determine the relative influence.
Ongoing research into the complex population dynamics of the prairie community will
improve our ability to manage restored and re-created tallgrass prairies for maximum resilience.
Expanded data gathering and trend analysis will enable more thorough scrutiny of the factors that
determine the tallgrass prairie ecosystem.
Works Cited
Agrawal, A.A. and Malcolm, S.B., 2002. Once upon a milkweed: in this complex community,
one insect’s poison may be another’s meal. Natural History 111:48-53.
Bonsall, M.B. and Holt, R.D., 2003. The effects of enrichment on the dynamics of apparent
competitive interactions in stage-structured systems. The American Naturalist 162:780795.
Clay, K., 2001. Symbiosis and the regulation of communities. American Zoologist 41: 810-824.
Cunningham, W.P., Cunningham, M.A., and Saigo, B., 2005. Environmental Science: A Global
Concern 8th ed. McGraw-Hill, New York, NY.
Denno, R.F., Gratton, C., Peterson, M.A., Langellotto, G.A., Finke, D.L. and Huberty, A.F.,
2002. Bottom-up forces mediate natural-enemy impact in a phytophagous insect
community. Ecology 83:1443-1458.
Denno, R.F., Gratton, C., Dobel, H., and Finke, D., 2003. Predation Risk Affects Relative
Strength of Top-down and Bottom-up Impacts on Insect Behaviors. Ecology 84:10321044.
Evans, E.W., 1989. Abstract: Interspecific interactions among phytophagous insects of tallgrass
prairie: an experimental test. Ecology 70:435-444.
Evans, E.W., 1992. Abstract: Absence of interspecific competition among tallgrass prairie
grasshoppers during a drought. Ecology 73:1038-1044.
Finke,D.L. and R.F.Denno, 2002. Intraguild Predation Diminished in Complex-Structured
Vegetation: Implications for Prey Suppression. Ecology 83:643-651.
Harper, J.L. 1977. Population Biology of Plants. Academic Press, London, UK.
Hofmann, J.E., E.J.Heske, and D.G.Wenny, 2001. Small Mammal Survey of Upland Sand
Habitats at the Savanna Army Depot, Carroll and Jo Daviess Counties, Illinois.
Transactions of the Illinois State Academy of Science 94: 231-241.
Janzen, D.H. 1969. Seed eaters vs. Seed size, number, toxicity, and dispersal. Evolution 23:127.
Kirt, R.R. 1996. A nine-year assessment of successional trends in prairie plantings using seed
broadcast and seedling transplant methods, p144-153. Proceedings Fifteenth North
American Prairie Conference: Natural Areas Association, C.Warwick (ed.), Bend, OR.
36
Klironomos, J.N. and Hart, M.M., 2001. Animal nitrogen swap for plant carbon. Nature
410:651.
Kneitel, Jamie M., and Chase, J.M., 2004. Disturbance, Predator, and Resource Interactions
Alter Container Community Composition. Ecology 85:2088-2094.
Nelson, E.H., Matthews, C.E. and Rosenheim, J.A., 2004. Predators Reduce Prey Population
Growth By Inducing Changes in Prey Behavior. Ecology 85:1853-1858.
Root, R.B. and Capuccino, N., 1992. Abstract: Patterns in population change and the
organization of the insect community associated with goldenrod. Ecological Monographs
62:393-420.
Turchin, P., Taylor, A.D., and Reeve, J.D., 1999. Dynamical Role of Predators in Population
Cycles of a Forest Insect: An Experimental Test. Science 285:1068.
Wiegand, T., Moloney, K.A. and Milton, S.J., 1998. Population dynamics, disturbance, and
pattern evolution: identifying the fundamental scales of organization in a model
ecosystem. The American Naturalist 152:321-337.
37
Figure 1. Enclosure and control site macroinvertebrate eigenvalues.
Figure 2. Enclosure and control site flora eigenvalues.
38
Table 1. First two dimensional coordinates from correspondence analysis (CA) of the
macroinvertebrate communities and floral communities, soil temperature at 10 cm depth, and soil
moisture at 10 cm depth according to sample site. Symbols: Ei = enclosure site i and Ci =
control site i.
________________________________________________________________
Site
Macroinvertebrate
Soil
Soil
Floral
community
temperature
moisture
community
coordinates of
(Co)
(%)
coordinates of
CA
CA
Dim 1 Dim 2
Dim 1 Dim 2
________________________________________________________________
E1
0.35
-0.35
25.8
37
-0.30
-0.45
E2
-0.21
0.47
26.1
40
-0.91
0.94
E3
0.75
0.53
26.7
54
0.22
-0.11
E4
0.67
0.63
27.2
52
0.33
-0.11
E5
-0.49
0.22
26.7
61
0.13
0.21
E6
0.32
-0.69
27.2
58
-0.56
0.34
E7
0.10
0.20
26.7
47
-1.18
0.76
C1
0.37
-1.93
20.8
26
0.29
0.81
C2
-0.25
0.18
20.8
51
-0.28
-0.71
C3
0.47
0.68
26.7
59
-0.74
-2.03
C4
0.46
0.62
26.7
63
0.36
-0.04
C5
0.03
-0.03
25.8
52
1.16
0.08
C6
-0.17
-1.41
26.7
48
1.86
0.18
C7
-2.49 0.07
27.8
52
0.69
0.03
________________________________________________________________
39
40
Evaluating the Finds of a Recent Discovery of Humanoid Bones Suggesting the Coexistence of
and Mating between Homo sapiens and Homo neanderthalensis
by Sara Heppner
(Honors Biology 102)
The Assignment: Write a paper following a professional format that describes the
author’s research of a fictional, but realistic, data set.
Abstract
P
ast research has suggested that Neanderthals went extinct approximately 30,000 years ago.
However, in a recent discovery, paleontologists found two parietal skulls of unidentified
humanoids, a humanoid-type bone, a wooden section of a tool, a skull and leg bones
belonging to an Irish elk (Megaloceras), and a bivalve shell. The finding was made in a cave
near Vallon-Pont, d’Arc, France that is located on a river valley and is subject to flooding. A
stream runs directly through the cave. In an attempt to identify the species belonging to the
bones and the ages of the shell, tool, and elk, the items were dated using carbon-14. The carbon
dating showed that of the six samples found only one, which was identified as a human tibia, was
far younger than the other samples aging in at a little over 14,000 years. The other specimens
were comparable in age at about 18,000 years. Based on anatomical analysis, one skull was
determined to belong to the species H. neanderthalensis, while the other was classified as an
early H. sapiens. Findings indicate H. sapiens and H. neanderthalensis coexisted 12,000 yeas
beyond that previously recorded.
Introduction
The cranial space for H. sapiens is 1400 cc which is about the size of that for H.
neanderthalensis (Balter 2002). However, in considering size readjustments to compensate for
Neanderthals’ more robust bodies, their brains are slightly smaller than ours. Thus, researchers
have distinguished Neanderthals as a separate species (Balter 2002). Previous evidence suggests
that Neanderthals coexisted with H. sapiens for millenniums while the Neanderthals neared
extinction about 30,000 years ago (Balter 2002). Through evolutionary advancements, cranial
shapes have modified over the years to allow large brains to fit into a smaller space. An
identifiable feature of the H. neanderthalensis’ skull is the cranium shape that is relatively long
and low as compared to the skulls of H. sapiens (Leakey and Lewin 2002).
Neuroscientists have spent decades scanning the frontal lobe of the brain and have
associated the area with function of modern human behavior, such as creative thinking, artistic
expression, planning, and language (Balter 2002). The temporal lobe is linked to hearing and
memory thus explaining the need for cranial expansion. Expansion of these areas would
lengthen the anterior segment of the cranial base and push the face into a vertical position,
instead of a protruding position like that of a Neanderthal. The skull of Neanderthals also tends
to be thicker than that of H. sapiens and a distinguishable characteristic of the Neanderthal is the
41
defined brow ridge (Lewin 1987). Studies of brain deformations in living infants show that brain
shape changes the shape of the cranium. This means that the skull does not reform to match the
brain size, but, as the human species becomes more knowledgeable, skulls adapt to growing
brains verifying that natural selection acts directly on the brain and skull shape follows.
Researchers argue that the first modern humans did not appear until about 50,000 years
ago in Africa (Balter 2002). Then, starting about 40,000 years ago during the Upper Paleolithic
period, H. sapiens dispersed northward in Europe. This was a time when many archaeological
findings showed intricate creativity, expressed through individualized embellishments, ritualistic
burials, and cave paintings, such as the 32,000-year-old artworks at the Grotte Chauvet in France
(Balter 1999). This discovery, of course, can draw a connection that Neanderthals were widely
dispersed across Europe and were considered to be cave dwellers. In fact, in that very cave,
researchers have found traces and paintings of bears, which makes it feasible that the artists
entered the cave while the animals were hibernating. This can explain why a number of bear
skulls were found piled together in one chamber. The bears may have had special significance to
the human occupants, for instance sacrificial ritual purposes. Still, researchers cannot be sure if
humans placed the skulls deliberately (Balter 1999).
The goal of this research is to determine the ages of the six materials found in a French
cave near Vallon-Pont, d’Arc through which a stream flows. The ages of the two skulls,
humanoid-type bone, wooden tool, Irish elk (Megaloceras) skeleton, and a bivalve shell were
determined through carbon-14 dating. In accomplishing objectives, the relationships of the six
items were explored. The hominid remains were identified to species with attempts made to
incorporate vital statistics.
Methods
Carbon-14 was used to estimate the ages of the six cave artifacts found. The differences
in the ages of the six cave artifacts were tested using a pair-wise independent-variable t test
where significance was determined at p < 0.05. The anatomical features of one of the two skulls
and a hominid bone were compared to remains of known hominids as to identify species.
Sexually dimorphic features, number of teeth, and the condition of the skulls were used to learn
gender, age at death, and a possible cause of death.
Results
Table 1 summarizes the archeological ages of the six cave artifacts as well as statistical
testing. Only the tibia, from the right leg of a H. sapiens showed a notable difference in age.
The smaller skull was believed to be that of a younger female H. sapiens according to the
small discrete mastoid process of the temporal bone which is located behind the ear at the base of
the skull. The skull of the assumed H. sapiens also possessed no brow ridges further suggesting
that it was a more modern and evolved species, and along with this, its distinction as a female
was supplemented by the distinct supraorbital process along the lateral side of the eye socket. In
addition, this female humanoid skull had a rounded frontal bone, unlike males who have a
forehead that is more flat and squared off (Rhine 2002). Since the H. sapiens skull did not have
a full set of 32 teeth, her age was estimated at roughly 21 years or older.
42
The skull was identified as belonging to H. neanderthalensis and male due to the more
pronounced superior and inferior nuchal lines of occipital bone that allows for greater muscle
attachment, a dominant feature in males (Rhine 2002). This skull also had orbitals that are more
squared where they would be more circular as a female skull. However, unlike a female, the
mastoid process was large and prominent. The skull had 32 teeth indicating an age of 21 years at
time of death assuming aging similarities to H. sapiens (Rhine 2002).
Discussion
There is little doubt that modern humans’ lifestyle quickly surpassed that of the
Neanderthals (Gibbons 2001). Soon after Cro-Magnon people arrived in Europe, they made
sophisticated weapons and tools out of bones, painted vivid scenes on cave walls, and carved
animals out of ivory. Meanwhile, Neanderthals continued to use simpler artifacts. Considering
that the two species existed together for thousands of years there is little evidence that they
influenced one another. The modern human figures and Neanderthals appeared to maintain their
own ways of life until the Neanderthals eventually went extinct.
The two skulls were found in the same cave and dated to the same statistical
archeological age, thus supporting that H. sapiens and H. neanderthalensis coexisted. It has
been questioned whether Neanderthals interbred with humans. Genetic assimilation into the
population of H. sapiens is one explanation to the demise Neanderthal.
The wooden tool likely had a stone attached to it at one point in time. Only H. sapiens
probably had the ability to develop a tool as sophisticated as the one found (Jordan 1999).
Irish elk were a common part of the landscape during Neanderthal times and was used as
food by both hominids (Tattersal 1995). However, the conditions of the bones were not
recorded. Cut marks on the bones would be evidence of butchering. The unidentified bivalve
shell could have been part of some archaic type of jewelry or some sort of serving dish, or
simply washed into the cave by the stream.
The tibia, due to its age, was completely unrelated to the scene. It could have been that
the individual that the tibia belonged was deceased and the tibia happened to be deposited in the
cave. The exact causes of death of the three hominids remained a mystery as there were no signs
of fractures or trauma to the skulls and tibia. Since only skulls and a single tibia were found in
the cave, it is possible that a continued cave excavation may yield more bones and artifacts.
There continues to be much controversy over where Neanderthals originated and how
they coexisted with modern humans. As illustrated in Figure 1, at sites in Israel such as Amud
and Tabun, remains of late archaic humans have been found, while early modern human remains
were found in the Israeli caves of Qafzeh and Skhul (Wolpoff and Caspari 1997). In an attempt
to support his argument that Neanderthals could interbreed with modern humans, Wolpoff and
Caspari (1997) attempted to find errors in DNA analysis. However, analysis of mtDNA in living
humans confirmed earlier conclusions that family trees show that all modern humans were
descendents of an African group, Africa being the continent where Neanderthals were thought to
have first originated. Wolpoff refuted these findings insisting that the research neglected to find
the most probable tree out of a forest of possibilities. There were indeed several sparsely
populated phylogenetic trees, some with African roots, some with Eurasian roots, and some with
roots from all over the world implying the simultaneous evolution into modern humans in many
regions. It is statistically difficult to determine geographic origins for modern humans from
DNA alone (Trinkaus and Shipman 1992). Future analysis will be necessary to draw more
43
definite conclusions. Although, this research provides solid evidence that the two species of
hominids did coexist and that Neanderthals went extinct 12,000 years later than had been
previously assumed.
Works Cited
Balter, M. 2002. What made humans modern? Science 295:1219.
Balter, M. 1999. New light on the oldest art. Science 283:920.
Gibbons, A. 2001. The riddle of coexistence. Science 291:1725.
Jordan, P. 1999. Neanderthal. Sutton Publishing. Stroud, Gloustershire, England, UK.
Leakey, R. and Roger Lewin. 1992. Origins Reconsidered. Doubleday, New York, NY.
Lewin, R. 1987. Bones of Contention. Simon and Schuster, New York, NY.
Rhine, S. 2002. Introduction to Forensic Anthropology. Allyn and Bacon, Boston, MA.
Tattersall, I. 1995. The Last Neanderthal. Nevraumont Publishing Company, New York, NY.
Trinkaus, E., and P. Shipman. 1992. The Neanderthals. Vintage Books, New York, NY.
Wolpoff, M., and R. Caspari. 1997. Race and Human Evolution. Simon & Schuster Inc., New
York, NY.
44
Figure 1. The evolution of man and the extinction of Neanderthals reconsidered.
(N u m be rs cor r esp on d to th e in di vid ua ls to who m th e s k ul ls
bel on g) .
45
Table 1. Mean + standard deviation age in years for the human (Homo sapien) skull,
Neanderthal (Homo neanderthalensis) skull, human (Homo sapien) bone, wood tool, Irish elk
skeleton, and bivalve shell. All n = 6. The age of the human tibia was significantly different
from the ages of the other cave artifacts (all t’s > 3.6, p<0.05, independent t-tests). The
remaining cave artifacts did not differ significantly in age.
___________________________________________________________________
Cave artifact
Archeological age (years)
___________________________________________________________________
Homo sapien skull
17571 + 1547
Homo neanderthalensis skull
17378 + 1339
Homo sapien tibia
14399 + 1425
Wood tool
17580 + 1557
Skeleton of Irish elk
17875 + 1537
Bivalve shell
18083 + 1525
___________________________________________________________________
46
Yes, But At What Temperature Do Movies Burn?
by Benjamin Hooper
(English 154)
The Assignment: An analysis of how the film version of “Fahrenheit 451
compares and contrasts to the novel on which it is based.
I
n 1953, the science-fiction community welcomed the arrival of a new masterwork in the
field; a book titled Fahrenheit 451. The novel, written by Ray Bradbury, was the story of a
malcontented public servant in a dystopian future. Thirteen years later, in 1966, French
director François Truffaut and co-screenwriter Jean-Louis Richard adapted the science-fiction
epic to the big screen. Although the two works share the same basic story, there are several
striking changes made to the story in the adaptation process; some that severely limit the
effectiveness of the film. In the following paragraphs, we shall examine the similarities and
differences between the book and the film.
In the translation from written words into moving pictures, it is generally a given that
certain scenes, passages, and even sub-plots will need to be cut in the interests of time and
pacing. However, it is generally assumed that any faithful adaptation would retain the major
characters and plot points of the original work, as is the case with Fahrenheit 451. In both the
book and the film, Guy Montag, the protagonist, is a “fireman” living in a future not too far
removed from our own society. In Montag’s world, firemen are public servants with some
similarities to the firemen of our modern world. However, Montag and the other firemen don’t
fight fires, they start them. The fire department receives information about people who hide
books – all of which are illegal – and dispatches firemen to burn the books. In both book and
film, Montag begins to doubt the validity and necessity of his profession. He begins reading
books, eventually deciding that it’s the burning of books that is the crime, not owning and
reading them. At the climax of both works, Montag is shunned by society and his own former
comrades attempt to arrest him, resulting in Montag killing his former boss, Captain Beatty.
Montag flees his pursuers and eventually joins a roaming band of former academics who have
made it their life’s work to preserve literature through memorization. Although all of these
major plot points take place in both Bradbury’s and Truffaut’s works, many events, characters,
and symbols where omitted or drastically altered in the latter version – and the film is poorer for
it.
The novel opens with Montag reflecting on his day while walking home from the train
that takes him to and from work. He recalls the pleasure he had burning books earlier that
evening. The film opens with the firemen rushing away in a fire truck – somewhat that similar in
appearance to modern fire trucks – to a house they suspect has books in it. They arrive, find the
books, and burn them. While this does an effective job of setting up who the firemen are and
what they do, it does very little in the way of setting up Montag as a character. It isn’t until the
end of the scene, when his superior calls him by name, that we even know which of the firemen
Montag is. Once he’s identified, however, we see right away through his expressions and flat
tone of voice that Montag is not enjoying himself. This is contrary to the Montag of Bradbury’s
47
novel, who is happy in his work because he does not yet realize that he has any reason not to be.
Thus, the early “ignorance-as-bliss” theme is missing from Montag’s character and the story
itself. Montag is not the only character to be radically changed from the outset, though.
In the novel Montag is confronted on his walk home by a 17-year-old girl named Clarisse
McClellan. She recognizes Montag’s uniform, and seems fascinated by him. She strikes
Montag as a very odd sort of person, and even explains that she is “crazy.” Clarisse tells Montag
that she comes from a family that does odd things, such as talk to each other and walk places,
despite the fact that excess walking is against the law. In the film, Clarisse and Montag meet on
his train ride home. Rather than a young girl, her character has become a 29-year-old teacher
suspended from working for exercising what she calls odd practices. In both works, Clarisse and
her strange comments and questions make Montag noticeably nervous and uncomfortable. The
decision to age Clarisse – no doubt intertwined with Truffaut’s decision to cast the same woman,
Julie Christie, as both Clarisse and Montag’s wife – drastically alters the character, and even
detracts from many of the themes surrounding her, most notably those stemming from the
contrasts between her and Mrs. Montag.
Ironically, the only character renamed for the film is also the character that went trough
the least changes in the translation from book to film. Mildred Montag – or Linda, as she’s
known in the film – is very much Clarisse’s opposite. When we first encounter Mildred in the
book, she’s just overdosed on sedatives in an apparent suicide attempt that she later denies. This
is important because it sets her up right away as the opposite of Clarisse. Where Clarisse’s
entrance portrays her as energetic and alive, Mildred is first seen as little more than a shell of a
person, a human being that seems to care for nothing, not even whether she lives or dies. In the
film, Linda is first introduced glued to the television – as she is in much of the film and the book
– which she refers to as her “family.” She doesn’t attempt suicide until well after her character
has been established, thus lessening its impact. The contrast between Clarisse and Mildred is at
the very heart of Bradbury’s novel. It would seem that Truffaut hoped to accentuate those
contrasts when he cast Christie in both rolls. The character’s identical appearances was
apparently meant to show through words and actions how opposite the two women are.
However, in making the characters physically identical, Truffaut abandons some of the
symbolism in Bradbury’s descriptions. Although Clarisse is considerably younger than Mildred
– 17 years to Mildred’s 31 – Montag thinks to himself that Clarisse seems older than Mildred.
This is especially interesting considering that Clarisse’s character essentially embodies
innocence and curiosity. What Bradbury is saying here is that innocence and curiosity are at the
very heart of wisdom, a trait we to associate with older people. In Clarisse’s curiosity and
innocence, she truly was the wisest character in the novel, making her seem to Montag as if she
were older. While the theme of curiosity versus ignorance on the road to wisdom is explored in
the film, the ideas of how it relates to youth and innocence is lost, just as the book loses its own
innocence and youth upon the untimely apparent death of Clarisse, an event omitted from the
film. However, not all characters were so drastically changed. Indeed, some were written out
altogether.
Once again, it is important to note that in the adaptation process, certain events and
characters need to be dropped in the interests of time and pacing. However, when a major
character is dropped, it is important for the filmmaker to find other ways to incorporate the
themes surrounding that character, as Truffaut did with the character of Professor Faber. In
Bradbury’s novel, Faber represented the counterpoint to Captain Beatty. Where Beatty wanted
to convince Montag of the evils and dangers of knowledge, Faber struggled to convince Montag
48
of the opposite, with a great deal of success. In the film, this role was taken over by Clarisse.
Where the book had Clarisse die of uncertain circumstances, the film allowed her to live to fill
the role of mentor to Montag, guiding him along his self-discovery and eventual rejection of his
old way of life. However, while this was a somewhat effective substitution, it was not as
effective as Bradbury’s version of events. The romantic connection Truffaut concocts between
Montag and Clarisse suggests that perhaps his decisions aren’t fully the result of changes within
himself, but at least partially influenced by attraction to a pretty girl. While Montag did feel an
attraction to the Clarisse of Bradbury’s tome, she died well before he made the final decision to
change his life. While her memory was undoubtedly an influence upon him, it could not have
been romantic attachment that steered his actions. While the book’s Clarisse represented
wisdom, it was Faber who represented knowledge. Truffaut combined the two, and found
limited success. What was not successful – and perhaps the film’s greatest shortcoming – was
the decision to omit another major character.
Every fire station in Bradbury’s world houses a Mechanical Hound. These hounds can be
programmed to track down human beings by their chemical structure. The hound in Montag’s
fire house holds significance not only as a symbolic object, but as a character in itself. If
Mildred is the opposite of Clarisse and Beaty is the opposite of Faber, then it is the Mechanical
Hound who is the opposite of Montag. The hound represents oppressive and violent technology,
whereas Montag represents humanity and human nature. Where Montag comes to conclusions
and deductions that lead to changes in his behavior and character, the hound never thinks
anything other than exactly what it is meant to. Indeed, Montag at one point contemplates what
the machine must think about, and Beatty responds that it only thinks what they tell him to think.
A machine will only think and do as it’s told, while a human being will think and do as he or she
believes is right. This is part of what eventually convinces Montag that he is not a machine. A
machine only thinks what people tell it to think, but Montag concocted thoughts and ideas that
society told him not to. In the very first scene of the book to take place in the firehouse, Montag
is surprised when the hound growls at him for seemingly no reason. It is never fully explained
why this happens, but it can be noted that since Montag has begun his transformation into an
independent mind, the machine knows – or possibly smells – that he is no longer like it. In
becoming independent, Montag has made himself a threat to society, and the hound’s purpose is
to hunt down and destroy threats. Montag pities the machine’s inability to think anything other
than what it’s told, and so in the same thought he is admitting that anyone who thinks only what
they’re told is someone to be pitied. Since his society is completely based on people thinking
only as told, another seed of discontent is sewn into his psyche. In the film, a similar event to the
hound’s growling occurs: the automatic pole will not elevate Montag. While this goes far to
represent an essential and symbolic moment, it doesn’t quite have the same effect on Montag as
the frightening contact with the hound, which foreshadows later events when Montag and the
hound do battle outside of his house. The confrontation builds a sense of tension and suspense
that pays off in the battle sequence and the chase afterward. The film’s version of Montag
fleeing the authorities causes very little suspense, as it never really gives an impression that
Montag could be caught or harmed. But the novel, with the ominous hound, creates a very real
sense of danger. The conflicts of man versus society, man versus man, and man versus
technology add to their ranks man versus time as Montag struggles to outrun and outthink the
hound. In fact, it is Montag’s independent thinking and creativity that lead to his ultimate
escape, as he masks his scent with Faber’s dirty clothing. Man triumphs over machine – not only
the mechanical hound, but the machine Montag once believed himself to be – using the very
49
traits that ostracize him from society.
Not all of the film’s shortcoming were a result of alterations to the story, however. In
numerous scenes, the film loses pacing and is distracting in its lack of action. For example, the
scene in which Montag phones for medical assistance when Linda overdoses includes several
seconds of unnecessary dialogue and information (Montag’s description of the pills, for
example). In Montag’s first meeting with Clarisse, the dialogue often takes on a pace that is hard
to follow. At the end of the scene, when Clarisse asks Montag if he is happy, the question is
difficult to hear because she delivers it while Montag is still speaking, and his voice overpowers
her. Furthermore, when she delivers the line, her face is not in a good position to be read. In
framing the shot, the director should have paid more attention to making sure Clarisse’s face was
more of a focal point, so it would be obvious that she was speaking. The background music
itself was often distracting, as it took on a ridiculous, cartoon-like tone at several points in the
movie, most notably at the film’s opening at the fire house. Additionally, Truffaut chose to film
the movie in a high key throughout. At the more suspenseful sequences, such as the climax at
Montag’s house, the film could have benefited from beginning low key and ending high contrast
with the fire. In fact, the film could have achieved a more serious and suspenseful tone if shot in
mostly low key colors, with bright contrast during fire scenes. Perhaps a high key style would be
appropriate for the final scene of the film, when Montag joins with the crew of literary
enthusiasts.
Fahrenheit 451 the film is not without its strengths, there are some powerful symbols and
visuals that have much stronger impact on film; such as the sight of burning books and Montag’s
“newspaper” with no words. However, when compared with Ray Bradbury’s novel, the film is
found wanting. With a faithful adherence to the characters – or at least the symbols they
represent, a big screen adaptation might have a stronger impact.
Works Cited
Bradbury, Ray. Fahrenheit 451. New York, NY: Ballantine Books, 1953
Fahrenheit 451. Dir. François Truffaut. Perf. Julie Christie, Oskar Werner. Vineyard Films,
1966.
50
An Analysis of the Identity and Relationship Among Skeletal Remains of the Upper Paleolithic
Era
by Brian Kinsman
(Honors Biology 102)
The Assignment: Write a paper following a professional format that describes the
author’s research of a fictional, but realistic, data set.
A
bstract. Two partial skulls of unknown humanoids, an unknown humanoid bone, a
wooden section of a tool, a skull and leg bones of an Irish Elk, and a bivalve shell were
found in a cave near Vallon-Pont, d’Arc, France. The objectives of the experiment were
to determine the age of the artifacts using carbon-14 dating, identify the species and physical
data of the hominids, and evaluate the relationship between these artifacts. All of the artifacts,
excluding the hominid bone, were dated approximately 17,500 years old; the hominid bone was
dated as 3,000 years younger. What resulted was an inconclusive correlation between the
artifacts due to the uncertain relationship between the hominid species Homo sapiens and Homo
neanderthalensis.
Introduction
The past 100,000 years in human evolution have spurred much debate over the origin of
the species Homo sapiens throughout Western Europe; namely, this debate results from the
overlapping distribution of several species of coexistent hominids (Tattersall 1995). The two
primary species in existence at the time were H. sapiens and H. neanderthalensis.
The H. neanderthalensis as a stockier species of hominid who as the primary inhabitant
of Northwestern Europe approximately 127,000 years ago (Gibbons 2001). The Neanderthals
were the dominant anthropoid in the north due to their durable, muscular frames that allowed
them to adapt to the glacial conditions. These pre-modern hominids functioned by forming small
hunting groups to survive (Gore 1997). Most notably, this demonstrates that a form of
communication was existent; furthermore, Neanderthal advancement is prevalent through their
use of spears for hunting (Trinkaus 1986). The first H. sapiens found to coexist with the
Neanderthals in Europe appeared approximately 50,000 years ago when the glaciers had melted
and the species could safely migrate farther north into Europe. These were the first of the modern
humans, forming societal groups capable of both hunting and gathering. In addition, they
exhibited heightened cultural development that was little or non-existent in Neanderthal groups
(Tattersall and Schwartz 2000).
The dispute arises over the eventual disappearance of the species Homo neanderthalensis
approximately 28,000 years ago. Two potential scientific theories have been formulated
regarding its extinction. One suggests that the Neanderthals were assimilated into the species H.
sapiens through interbreeding (Zilhao 2000). In contrast, it is also believed that the Neanderthals
were driven to extinction through competition with the more advanced humans (Gibbons 2001).
Recently, in a cave near Vallon-Pont, d’Arc, France paleontologists discovered two
51
partial skulls of unknown humanoids, a wooden section of a tool, bones of an Irish Elk
(Megaloceras), a bivalve shell, and an unknown humanoid-type bone. The cave is located with a
floodplain of a river valley. A stream enters the cave from a plateau high in the river valley and
continues to flow through and out of the cave.
The initial objective of this experiment is to estimate the ages of the aforementioned six
items. From which point an analysis is made of the three humanoid items to determine their
corresponding species and explain the geographic relevance of their discovery. The final
objective of this experiment is to discover the physical attributes and cause of death of the two
humanoids to which the skulls belonged.
Methods
Carbon-14 dating was utilized to age the materials (the percentage of carbon-14 found in
the fossil was measured in proportion to constant amount of stable carbon-12). Differences in the
ages if the six cave artifacts were tested using pair wise independent
t-tests where significance was determined at p≤ 0.05.
The species of the two humanoid skulls and unknown bone were identified based upon
the characteristic morphologies of the two existent species in the most accurate temporal frame.
In particular, a H. neanderthalensis could be identified by its enlarged cranial capacity ranging
on average 1400-1600 cm3, the presence of an occipital bun, and large supraorbital arches
(protruding brow) (Day 1986). H. sapiens may be identified by a notably smaller domed cranium
lacking a sagittal crest, reduced brow ridges, and a jaw that does not project forward (a
prominent chin is evident) (Gipps 1991). The species of an unknown hominid bone was
identified based on average bone length and thickness characteristic of each species.
Other physical attributes evident at the time of death were revealed using several
methods. The ages of the two humanoids were discerned by measuring how pronounced are the
endocranial sutures (Byers 2002). As humanoids age, these sutures become less visible. The
genders of the humanoids were discerned by comparing cranial capacities and by contrasting the
robust masculine and the gracile feminine cranial traits (Byers 2002). The cause of death and
health at the age of death was formulated based upon any prevalent irregularities in the skulls
that would suggest anything other than natural causes.
Results
Table 1 summarizes the archaeological ages of the six cave artifacts and statistical
testing. All of the artifacts were found to be of similar ages, except for the bone which was
determined to be around 5,000 years younger than the other artifacts.
Skull A was determined to belong to a H. sapiens based upon the pronounced chin, small
brow ridges, and a cranial capacity of 1200 cm3 (Gipps 1991). Upon further investigation, this
individual was determined to be a female between the ages of 32 and 40 based on the slight
endocranial sutures remaining, and illustration of gracile cranial features such as a round chin,
slight supraorbital ridges, and sharp orbital borders (Byers 2002). Rough estimates of height and
weight based on averages for the time period equate to roughly 1.55 m and 58.9 kg, respectively
(Tattersall and Schwartz 2000).
The unknown bone was classified as the tibia of a right leg because on the proximal end
of the bone, lateral and medial condyles, which articulate with the condyles of the femur, were
52
present. Furthermore, the lateral side was smooth, indicating the bone’s articulation with the
fibula (Wingerd 1994). The bone was found to belong to a H. sapiens, due to its length of 34
cm, which corresponds to the average length of a human tibia (Wingerd 1994).
Skull B belongs to a member of species H. neanderthalensis. This was deduced by its
protruding brow, occipital bun, and oversized cranial capacity of 1500 cm3 (Day 1986). Through
further investigation this Neanderthal was determined to be a male, as it exhibited a larger cranial
capacity of 1500 cm3 that is heavily accentuated in male members of the species. The specimen
was believed to be between the ages of 32 and 43 at the time of death based on the fading of the
endocranial sutures (Byers 2002). Likewise, there is not enough evidence to determine a definite
height and weight, but if the specimen followed the average for the species he would weigh 90.7
kg and measure around 1.65 m in height (Trinkaus 1986).
The skulls of both the human and Neanderthal indicated good health at the time of death
based on the healthy complement and condition of teeth. There is no additional physical
evidence to suggest otherwise; thus, cause of death of each individual was unknown.
Discussion
The discovery of a Neanderthal and a human in this cave at around the same temporal
zone (Upper Paleolithic) suggests that the species H. neanderthalensis survived 10,000 years
beyond what has been previously accepted. If the Neanderthals retained morphology integral to
their species significantly longer than originally believed and still managed to temporally overlap
with modern humans, then it is less likely that they interbred with the population of H. sapiens.
This possibly refutes the theory that Neanderthals were fully assimilated into the H. sapiens gene
pool; however, there is a. Findings indicate that the Neanderthals coexisted longer with modern
humans.
There are several possible explanations for the simultaneous discovery of all six of these
items. Neanderthals, and frequently modern humans, were group hunters and often hunted large
prey with long spears with wooden base and tips composed of sharp mammalian teeth. One such
prey of the Neanderthal and also H. sapiens was Megaloceras (Irish Elk). Thus, it is possible the
Megaloceras fossil was the result of either hominid’s hunting expedition using the wooden tool;
however, the condition of the skeletal remains was not submitted by the paleontologists who
excavated the cave. Consequently, the reason behind the Megaloceras remains in the cave
remains unknown.
This, however, does not account for the bivalve shell or the H. sapiens tibia. It is likely
that the bivalve shell once contained a species of edible mollusk that the human might have
gathered for food. In this case, the wooden tool could have been used as a means of prying open
the shell. In addition, modern humans adorned themselves with natural objects such as shells;
hence, the bivalve shell may have been decorative. Furthermore, the placement of the shell might
be simply random, as the result of being swept into the cave from atop the plateau by the current
of the stream. Still, the potentials of the shell’s use and location are inconclusive and its size
remains unknown.
The more questionable discovery is the tibia. There are two primary explanations for its
discovery in this locale. First, the cave in which it was found has a stream flowing through it.
This stream enters the cave from a plateau, which suggests that items atop the plateau may have
been swept from above, down into the cave by the current of the stream. In this case, it is feasible
that the human tibia was swept down by the current into the cave. This occurrence would explain
53
the temporal difference between it and the other artifacts. It could also be that the discovery of
the tibia denotes the future occupation of the cave by H. sapiens residents, and places possible
extinction of H. neanderthalensis within the proximal 5,000 years of its archaeological age.
The discovery of just the individual skulls of the H. sapiens and H. neanderthalensis, let
alone the tibia, denotes the possibility that the paleontologists may not have been entirely
thorough in their excavation of the cave. Therefore, the other remains may still exist in the cave.
Nevertheless, if upon further investigation additional corresponding skeletal remains are not
recovered, it is possible they were swept from the cave by the current of the stream.
Work Cited
Byers, S.N. 2002. Forensic Anthropology. Pearson Education Company, Boston, MA, USA.
Day, M.H. 1986. Guide to Fossil Man. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL, USA.
Gibbons, A. 1996. Did neandertals lose an evolutionary ‘arms’ race? Science 272: 1586-88.
Gipps, J. 1991. Skulls and human evolution: the use of casts of anthropoid skulls in teaching
concepts of human evolution. Journal of Biological Education 25: 283-91.
Gore, R. 1997. The first europeans. National Geographic 192: 98-112.
Tattersall, I. 1995. The Fossil Trail. Oxford University Press, New York, NY, USA.
Tattersall, I, and J. Schwartz. 2000. Extinct Humans. Nevraumont Publishing Company, New
York, NY, USA.
Trinkaus, E. 1986. The neandertals and modern human origins. The Annual Review of
Anthropology 15: 193-218.
Wingerd, B.D. 1994. The Human Body: Concepts of Anatomy and Physiology. Ed.1.
Brooks/Cole Thomson Learning, Stamford, CT, USA.
Zilhao, J. 2000. Fate of the neandertals. Archaeology 53: 24-30.
54
Table 1. Temporal analysis (mean + standard deviation age in years) of the six artifacts utilizing
Carbon-14 dating. All n = 6. The age of the hominid bone was significantly different from the
ages of the other cave artifacts (all t’s > 3.6, p<0.05, independent t-tests). The remaining cave
artifacts did not differ significantly in age.
______________________________________________________________
Cave artifact
Archeological age (years)
______________________________________________________________
Skull A (Homo sapiens)
17571 + 1547
Skull B (Homo neanderthalensis)
17378 + 1339
Hominid bone (H. sapiens right tibia)
14399 + 1425
Wood tool
17580 + 1557
Skeleton of Irish elk
17875 + 1537
Bivalve shell
18083 + 1525
______________________________________________________________
55
56
Biodiversity of the Macroinvertebrate Community in a Re-created Tallgrass Prairie as Affected
by Exclusion of Mammalian Predators
by Valentine Kopjo
(Honors Biology 110)
The Assignment: Conduct original research and write a technical paper about the
research.
Abstract
M
ammalian predators were excluded from given sections of a re-created tallgrass prairie
in Northeastern Illinois. The effects of this exclusion were measured through
observation and sampling of macroinvertebrate species. Results were taken from the
area where mammalian predators were excluded after a 5-year period of time and also from a
random area two meters away which served as a control. The pH and temperature measurements
of the soil were also taken at each site, and an inventory of plants in the area was recorded.
Species assemblages of macroinvertebrates and flora were more similar among the 7 exclusion
sites than among the 7 control sites. Predator exclusion can explain this observation where the
macroinvetebrate communities in enclosures shifted in a common way which affected the flora
via grazing. Alternatively, the observation may reflect bias from the original re-creation efforts.
Introduction
Because species do no exist in isolation but, rather, are embedded in more complex
interactions, the affect which mammalian predators have upon the dynamics and biodiversity of
macroinvertebrate communities can aid in understanding and learning about re-created systems
and their processes (Bonsall, 2003). If predators choose to prey upon only one species of
macroinvertebrates, then that predator can dramatically change the age distribution of that
species. Conversely, if the predator eats only the reproducing members of a population, the
population will decrease greatly come the next period of birth. Through these feeding habits, the
predators then can decrease the survivorship of certain prey species and also change vital rates of
reproduction and growth (Nakaoka, 2000). When the effects of predation upon the hard clam
Mercenaria mercenaria were studied in the estuaries of North Carolina, it was shown that
growth rates were lower in habitats where predation rates were higher (Nakaoka, 2000). If a
population is preyed upon for a long period, its population can severely decrease. As the prey
population decreases, the predation rate also decreases because the abundance of that prey
species becomes rare in comparison to other prey species. Because the decrease in prey
population equals less food for the predator, the predator will divert attention to other, more
abundant prey species (Khan, et al 2004).
Because predators tend to prey more upon those species which are abundant and small in
size, the macroinvertebrate community becomes key in understanding life in re-created systems
such as the tallgrass prairie (Khan and Ghaleb 2002). Ecological processes of the prairie can
57
often be connected to the activities of insects. Avian and mammalian predators depend upon the
abundance and location of food sources, including insects, to determine where to breed. Plant
distribution is affected by insect pollination, seed predation, and grazing (Costello, 1969). If not
controlled, herbivores can severely disturb the plant community. Prey species can also affect the
availability of flora because, in addition to ingesting macroinvertebrates, many species also
ingest plants. The gray fox, Urocyon cinereoargenteus, has been examined and found to ingest
plants, including various nuts and berries, in addition to the macroinvertebrates they regularly
consume (Bauer, 1988). Consequently, factors that regulate macroinvertebrate populations help
in understanding the stability and management of re-created systems.
A re-created system was examined in the paper to determine how the biodiversity of the
macroinvertebrate community is affected by the exclusion of mammalian predators. Based upon
knowledge of predator-prey relationships, predictions of this study conclude that there will exist
some sort of effect on the macroinvertebrate community within the re-created tallgrass prairie of
Northeastern Illinois. As much of the original tallgrass prairie has been destroyed, endangering
many species, the understanding of community dynamics gained in this study was presumed
helpful in preserving the remnant diversity in re-created systems (Madson, 1993).
Methods
A search for specimens was conducted in September 2004 in the 15 ha Russel Kirt recreated tallgrass prairie, which began in 1985. Kirt (1996) provides description of the flora
community of the prairie. The seven 2m x 2m enclosures which were specifically studied were
established five years ago and are scattered along the perimeter of a retention pond which is also
a part of the re-created tallgrass prairie. Galvanized chicken wire was buried to a depth of 15 cm
and extended to a high of 30 cm. The 5 mm mesh size acts to prevent invasion by larger
mammalian predators including shrews, fox, and raccoons. Controls were selected based on
being within 2 m of the enclosures and along the same approximate slope proceeding to the
retention pond. Macroinvertebrates were inventoried from the enclosures in which mammalian
predators were excluded and also from the controls two meters away according to morphotype as
well as to the lowest taxonomic level possible. At each area from which macroinvertebrates were
collected, pH level and temperature of soil was recorded using an Aquaterr Temp-200 meter
(Aquaterr Instruments, Costa Mesa, CA). Also, inventories were done on all flora seen in both
enclosed and controls.
Assemblage structures of the macroinvertebrate communities and floral communities
were summarized using correspondence analysis. The ordination technique offers to reduce
community data to coordinates on a multidimensional plane. Only the first two dimensions were
considered here as they explain most of the variance in data. Communities which are more
similar should have coordinates that are closer together than communities which are less similar.
Results
Lists of macroinvertebrates and flora can be obtained by contacting College of DuPage. Table 1
provides the first two-dimensional coordinates from the correspondence analysis of the
macroinvertebrate communities and floral communities, in addition to the soil temperature and
moisture at 10cm. Figures 1 and 2 provide a plot of ordinated data of the macroinvertebrate and
flora communities using the first two dimensions of correspondence analysis, respectively.
58
Ordinated assemblance structures of macroinvertebrates and flora communities were more
similar in enclosures than controls.
Discussion
Explanations to the similar assemblages of macroinvertebrates and flora among controls
include the thought that human involvement when first creating the enclosures determined which
plants, and consequently which species of macroinvertebrates, were to be found in each area.
Alternatively, the exclusion of mammalian predators may have caused the succession sequence
of macroinvertebrates among enclosures, which was propagated to the plant community by
grazing pressures.
It also must be taken into consideration that flora species may be similar as a result of
excluding mammalian consumers from the enclosed areas. If consumers are unable to enter the
enclosed areas, then certain plants which would otherwise be consumed are allowed to flourish.
This would account for similarities in flora species not only in enclosures but also in the control
areas. The flora species in the control areas would be more alike because they were equally
available to predators. Macroinvertebrate species in controls would also then be more alike
because the flora species upon which they depend would be similar. The same logic holds true
for the macroinvertebrate species in the enclosures. If the same macroinvertebrates were found,
then the same species of mammalian predators may have been found preying upon the species.
Additionally, higher variance among controls in macroinvertebrate and floral assemblages may
reflect uneven distribution of mammalian predators in the re-created system. However, neither
the abundance of predators in enclosures nor control areas was observed. Each track of
hypothesis needs to be further scrutinized to determine the effects of excluded mammalian
predators on the macroinvertebrate communities of the re-created tallgrass prairie.
Works Cited
Bauer, E. 1988. Predators of North America. Grolier Books, Latham, NY.
Bonsall, M.B. 2003. The role of variability and risk on the persistence of a shared-enemy,
predator-prey assemblages. Journal of Theoretical Biology 221: 193-204.
Costello, D. F. 1969. The Prairie World. Crowell Company, New York, NY.
Khan, Q.J.A., A. Balakrishnan, and C. G. Wake, 2004. Analysis of a predator-prey system with
predator switching. Bulletin of Mathematical Biology 66: 109-123.
Khan, Q.J. A., and A.F. Ghaleb, 2002. A study of prey-predator relations for mammals. Journal
of Theoretical Biology 223: 171-178.
Kirt, R. R. 1996. A nine-year assessment of successional trends in prairie plantings using seed
broadcast and seedling transplant methods, p. 144-153. In: C. Warwick (ed.). Fifteenth
North American Prairie Conference, The Natural Areas Association, Bend, OR.
Madson, J. 1993. Tallgrass Prairie: A Nature Conservancy Book. Falcon P, Helena.
Nakaoka, M. 2000. Nonlethal effects of predators on prey populations: predator-mediated change
in bivalve growth. Ecology 81: 1031.
59
Table 1. First two dimensional coordinates from correspondence analysis (CA) of the
macroinvertebrate communities and floral communities, soil temperature at 10 cm depth, and soil
moisture at 10 cm depth according to sample site. Symbols: Ei = enclosure site i and Ci =
control site i.
________________________________________________________________
Site
Macroinvertebrate
Soil
Soil
Floral
community
temperature
moisture
community
coordinates of
(Co)
(%)
coordinates of
CA
CA
Dim 1 Dim 2
Dim 1 Dim 2
________________________________________________________________
E1
0.35
-0.35
25.8
37
-0.30
-0.45
E2
-0.21
0.47
26.1
40
-0.91
0.94
E3
0.75
0.53
26.7
54
0.22
-0.11
E4
0.67
0.63
27.2
52
0.33
-0.11
E5
-0.49
0.22
26.7
61
0.13
0.21
E6
0.32
-0.69
27.2
58
-0.56
0.34
E7
0.10
0.20
26.7
47
-1.18
0.76
C1
0.37
-1.93
20.8
26
0.29
0.81
C2
-0.25
0.18
20.8
51
-0.28
-0.71
C3
0.47
0.68
26.7
59
-0.74
-2.03
C4
0.46
0.62
26.7
63
0.36
-0.04
C5
0.03
-0.03
25.8
52
1.16
0.08
C6
-0.17
-1.41
26.7
48
1.86
0.18
C7
-2.49 0.07
27.8
52
0.69
0.03
________________________________________________________________
60
Figure 1. Plot ordinated data of the macroinvertebrate community using the first two dimensions
of correspondence analysis
Figure 2. Plot of ordinated data of the flora community using the first two dimensions of
correspondence analysis.
61
62
George Orwell and Burma
by Kathy Kozak
(Honors English 103)
The Assignment: Research a topic suggested by the themes and topics found in
1984. (Students invited to explore the literary, psychological, political, historic,
religious, sociological, etc.)
S
ometimes there are decisions that we make that define our lives in unexpected and
important ways. These decisions are often made when we are too young to fully
comprehend the impact they will have on our lives. When George Orwell was a young man
he made such a decision. He decided not to pursue higher learning after he graduated from Eton
in June, 1921, and chose instead to become a policeman for the British Empire (Bowker 72). His
years spent in Burma were probably not as romantic as his young heart had hoped for, but they
were undoubtedly an unexpected education that would color many of the words he would write
throughout his life.
It was high noon in the British Empire when George Orwell was born in June, 1903. The
Edwardian Age was a time of great prosperity for British citizens of certain classes (Ferguson
369). They took for granted their right of ownership over places and peoples. It would not have
occurred to most Brits to question the right or wrong of conquering a country, stripping the land
of its valuables, and treating the indigenous people as very cheap, less than human, labor. On the
contrary, it was the “white man’s burden” to advance “civilization” around the globe (Ferguson
242).
The British Empire had steadily expanded from its humble beginnings as a small island
country in the Sixteenth Century with no overseas land holdings. She started out by playing
catch-up to Spain and Portugal, stealing from the thieves who were plundering the New World.
Greed has always been a driving force of exploration. The British East India Company was
chartered in 1600 to plunder in a more organized way (Commonwealth 3). The British bought,
stole, colonized, and bullied their way around the world, ultimately acquiring over 25% of the
world’s land surface and ruling over 25% of the world’s people (Ferguson 240). Niall Ferguson,
in his book Empire, quoted Professor George M. Wrong, who wrote in 1909:
Britain controls today the destinies of some 350,000,000 alien people, unable as
yet to govern themselves, and easy victim to rapine and injustice, unless a strong
arm guards them. She is giving them a rule that has its faults, no doubt, but such, I
would make bold to affirm, as no conquering state ever before gave to a
dependent people. (xii)
There is much written speculation on George Orwell’s reasons for rejecting college and
making the decision to become a part of the British raj. Jacintha Buddicom, his childhood friend
during many school holidays, is sure that Orwell’s elderly father insisted he go into “Indian
Civil” as he had done, in spite of Orwell “having his heart set on Oxford” (4). Peter Lewis
63
believes that Eric Blair, who chose the pen name George Orwell after his return from Burma,
chucked college and decided to be a policeman as an open rebellion against the typical path of an
Eton graduate (4). Biographer Gordon Bowker believes that Jacintha, who was two years older
than Eric, rejected him romantically and he sought escape (71). Bowker also notes that
Orwell/Blair’s personal tutor for four years at Eton, Andrew Gow, did not recommend him for
further schooling, calling him lazy and insolent (70). There is no doubt that joining the police
was an unusual move for an Eton graduate, Eric was the first and probably the last to do so
(Bowker 72). What he did, in effect, was to reject the pathway to the ruling class, or inner party,
and become a member of the British raj, clearly a part of the outer party while one remained in
England.
Although becoming an Imperial Policeman was a step down for an Eton graduate, it was
an honorable decision, and probably mollified his father. Eric’s father, Richard Blair, retired
from a post as Sub-Deputy Opium Agent in the Indian Civil Service as a facilitator of the China
opium trade (Lewis 32). Eric Blair’s mother had grown up in Moulmein, Burma, and had family
still living there (Bowker 10). Eric may have been intrigued by the descriptions and stories of
Burma shared with him by his intelligent and charming mother, Ida. Burma could have been seen
as an exciting and exotic choice, an appealing adventure.
After cramming for three months at the beginning of 1922, Orwell applied to join the
Indian Imperial Police Force (Bowker 72). He was accepted in August, and sailed for Burma in
October, 1922, his new title being Probationary Assistant Superintendent Blair (Bowker 73).
This would place him in the colony of Burma at a time when many of the British colonial natives
were straining against their fetters worldwide (Commonwealth 5). Burma was no exception.
Burma is located on the Bay of Bengal, in the northern Indian Ocean. It is just west of
Thailand, bordered on the north by China and the east by Bangladesh. India looms over the
shoulder of Bangladesh. Burmese scholar Maung Htin Aung describes his country’s early
history, prior to the British invasion, as typical of Asia. The central region was agricultural,
populated by mostly Buddhists, the majority of whom could read and write, and was ruled by a
monarchy. He says they considered themselves one country though they had an indigenous
population in the mountains around the central plain that would not have called the Burmese
king their leader. Burma was protected on 3 sides by mountains and on the fourth by the sea, so
the country was relatively stable (Htin Aung 1).
The jewel of Burma was and is the Shwedagon Pagoda, a golden wonder that might as
well have had a neon sign on the top flashing, “take me, take me” to passing British ships.
George Orwell, as he sailed into the docks of Rangoon, would have seen this gold-covered,
jewel-encrusted Pagoda on one side of the mouth of the Irriwaddy River, and the British-owned
Burmah Oil Refinery, chimneys belching black smoke, on the other (Bowker 77).
Burmese historian Maung Htin Aung describes the Empire’s motives to conquer Burma
this way:
.....the period of the first British intrusion in Burma coincided with the period of
the British struggle to acquire and hold the island of Singapore. The East India
Company already possessed Penang, and with the acquisition of Singapore in
1819 it became necessary to obtain possession of the Burmese coast to turn the
Bay of Bengal into a British lake. (217)
64
After the first British defeat of the Burmese they allowed the King of Burma to stay on
his Rangoon throne, but they took control of the governance of the country and much of the land.
They also demanded one million pounds, a staggering sum, from the Burmese for war losses
(Htin Aung 214). They were also forced to agree to a commercial treaty with the East India
Company which gave the Brits control of all commerce (Htin Aung 214). The British Army was
to stay in Rangoon until the second installment on the million pounds was made. Many Burmese
contributed their savings to pay the British and the Burmese Queen turned over to them all her
jewelry (Htin Aung 217). In 1853 there was a second Anglo-Burmese war, basically a ruse of the
British to take control of the rich teak forests in the mountains and the rest of the Burmese coast (
Htin Aung 227). In 1885, using a purported insult as an excuse, the British deposed the king of
Burma and took over the rest of the country (Htin Aung 232).
The British view on these happenings is summed up by journalist and author Norma
Bixler:
Rice and teak were the major exports; these together with internal revenue
ranging from land taxes down to such minutiae as the taxes paid by indigenous
distillers of salt enabled Burma to repay with surprising speed the costs of the
third Burmese war. After 1891, the province more than paid its own way and a
tidy surplus went each year to India. (51)
To add further insult to the Burmese people, Lord Dufferin declared Burma a province of India.
Guerrilla warfare broke out immediately against the British occupation army, who declared them
bandits to be killed on sight. Whole villages, thousands of people, including women and
children, were executed. Peace ultimately prevailed after the royal family, most of the village
headmen, and many of the guerillas and their families were dead at the hands of the British
soldiers (Htin Aung 266). Between 1890 and 1920 there was a period of relative peace; the
Burmese leadership had been destroyed.
Burma’s largest export, rice, was controlled by the British, who set prices and costs. As
Burma was now a province of India, the British allowed Indian bankers to make loans to
Burmese rice farmers at exorbitant interest rates and many rice farmers lost their land. The
British-owned Burma Oil Company, once the proud possession of Burmese royalty, owned,
processed and shipped Burmese oil. The British-owned Bombay-Burmah Corporation had a
monopoly on timber removal and exportation, and the British-owned Burma Corporation had a
monopoly on metal extraction and exportation, which included silver, lead, tungsten and tin
(Htin Aung 272). The period of time between the third Anglo-Burmese war of 1886 and the
1930’s shows a growing economy on paper, but the vast bulk of all profits flowed out of Burma
into the banks of the British Isles, and to a smaller extent, India (Htin Aung 273).
The Burmese were further insulted in 1917 when Britain needed the cooperation of India
to help them fight in World War I. India was offered new freedoms of self-governance, but
Burma was left out of the deal. They sent several delegations to protest this decision and in
December of 1920 a university strike began which evolved into a country-wide anti-British strike
(Htin Aung 283). Concessions were made and the strike was broken but the undercurrent of
anger was present throughout the 1920’s and would soon boil over again. In 1923 the British, in
an attempt to quell the unrest caused by leaving Burma out of the concessions towards more selfgovernance that they had offered to India, granted Burma some small legislative authority
(Bixler 52). There were at least three separate elections held, but there was too much well-earned
65
mistrust of the British by the Burmese, leading to very small voter participation. Elected
Burmese were mostly viewed as ineffectual puppets by their constituents, and their decisionmaking power was very limited by their British “superiors” (Htin Aung 289). These are the
simmering circumstances that Eric Blair encountered when he arrived in Rangoon, Burma, in
November of 1922, at the age of 19, as a first class passenger aboard the SS Herefordshire
(Bowker 75).
Orwell was immediately shipped north, a 14-hour train ride, to the Police Training
School inside Fort Dufferin in Mandalay. Mandalay was the former royal capital city of the last
Burmese King, Thebaw, and the current British administrative capital of Upper Burma (Bowker
78). Fort Dufferin was formerly the palace built for King Thebaw. Orwell was not impressed
with Mandalay, calling it, “rather a disagreeable town---it is dusty and intolerably hot, and it is
said to have five main products all beginning with P, namely pagodas, pariahs, pigs, priests, and
prostitutes...” (Burmese Days 283). Tension was even higher than usual in Mandalay when
Orwell arrived. Only a month before a Buddhist monk had cut off the nose of an Imperial
Policeman during a riot (Gross 21).
Orwell began a year’s worth of training at the school with two other recruits (Bowker
79). He hunted, read a lot, and often kept to himself. He also learned to speak Burmese fluently
(Gross 29). Gordon Bowker, in his very thorough study of Orwell, details every outpost Orwell
passed through: Orwell’s first posting was only a month in duration, from November to
December, 1923, to the hill station of Maymyo, 42 miles northeast of Mandalay by rail. Over the
next three and a half years he was posted to the stations of Insein and Myaungmya and Twante
that were near the relatively cosmopolitan city of Rangoon, a place where a man could eat at
Anglo restaurants and buy the British newspapers, as well as peruse the latest English books. He
shot an elephant while stationed in Moulmein in 1926, the girlhood home of his mother. He
served in Katha, which is 800 miles north of Burma at the end of the Burma Railroad, near some
of the teak forests of Burma (Bowker 83-94). What all these places have in common, what would
have been impossible for Orwell to ignore, was the constant demand on him that he must always
wear the mask of the pukka sahib and the knowledge that most of the Burmese thought he was a
thief and a bully, just as they thought of his compatriots. George Orwell left Burma in July,
1927, and never returned.
Perhaps Orwell entered into his Burma experience looking for a way to rebel against
normal expectations, or maybe he was simply looking for adventure. Whatever the reason for his
unusual decision, the four and a half years he spent in Burma gave him a fairly unique
perspective among writers. As Orwell tells us in The Road to Wigan Pier, published in 1934,
“Moreover, in the police you see the dirty work of Empire at close quarters and there is an
appreciable difference between doing dirty work and merely profiting by it” (145). To take it a
step further, without the understanding that Orwell gained by experiencing first hand what it felt
like to be an enforcer of the British raj, he may not have taken the next step toward his personal
enlightenment, living poor in Paris and London. If Orwell had decided to stay in England, in
essence continuing in his position at the bottom of the middle class, he would be comparable to a
member of the “Outer Party” of Nineteen Eighty-Four; his experience of power would be
limited. In Burma, as a part of the tiny percentage of the white ruling class, he magically stepped
into the “Inner Party” and gradually became disgusted by it. His “political awakening” changed
him into an anti-authoritarian champion of the “downtrodden” (Newsinger 3). Orwell makes this
perfectly clear in his book, The Road to Wigan Pier:
66
I was in the Indian Police five years, and by the end of that time I hated the
imperialism I was serving with a bitterness which I probably cannot make clear.
In the free air of England that kind of thing is not fully intelligible. In order to
hate imperialism you have got to be a part of it.....But it is not possible to be part
of such a system without recognizing it as an unjustifiable tyranny. (144)
As a policeman of superior intellect Orwell gradually came to see the damage being done
to Burma and the Burmese by his countrymen in the name of English superiority and greed. He
knew his countrymen had stolen and profited from Burmese oil, metals, jewels, teak and rice. He
could easily observe that the Burmese were allowed to do only the most menial tasks within
business and the government. He saw that the final injustice was the yearly collection of taxes
that enriched British coffers half a world away. It’s probable that Orwell helped break a tax
strike that peaked in 1924 by confiscating property, arresting people (Newsinger 2). Orwell
writes in Burmese Days about a small, manufactured, village rebellion of seven Burmese that
ends in the shooting of one of them by one of the Brits. Two members of the family of the dead
Burmese retaliate, slicing Maxwell, the perpetrator, to ribbons with their dahs (237). Orwell
shows us the impact this has on the remaining tiny British population, who responds with
tremendous rage and fear. Orwell tells us, “Eight hundred people, possibly, are murdered every
year in Burma; they matter nothing; but the murder of a white man is a monstrosity, a sacrilege”
(238). If this is a real event that happened under Orwell’s jurisdiction, he would have been the
policeman that arrested the murderers, or at least, as he tells us, a reasonable facsimile of the
murderers (256).
This is not to say that Orwell was ready to embrace the Burmese people. He had a gift for
learning languages and he spent more time than was probably seemly in Buddhist temples and
villages absorbing the local cultures (Bowker 79). In Orwell’s first novel, Burmese Days, Flory,
who is Orwell, takes Elizabeth, the girl he hopes to court, to a Burmese pwe. He describes this
village theater as “a cross between a historical drama and a revue” (101). He wrongly thinks
Elizabeth is interested and gushes:
In some way that I can’t define to you, the whole life and spirit of Burma is
summed up in the way that girl twists her arms. When you see her you can see the
rice fields, the villages under the teak trees, the pagodas, the priests in their
yellow robes, the buffaloes swimming the rivers in the early morning, Thibaw’s
palace. (103)
Orwell demonstrates curiosity and interest in the culture of Burma, but as an observer, not a
participant. He can also appreciate their beauty, “(he was) shapely and even beautiful in his
grossness; for the Burmese do not sag and bulge like white men, but grow fat symmetrically, like
fruits swelling” (5). Orwell shows us in Burmese Days the lazy servants, the petty bureaucrats,
the devilish Buddhist monks, the uppity students, the conniving whores, and the easily quelled
rioters that make up the population of Burma in his eyes. If Orwell had any real friends among
the Burmese, there is scant evidence of it in his writing.
Orwell was an easy target for Burmese dissent, in a police uniform and at 6’2” he would
tower over the average Burmese (Bowker 73). The Burmese were unhappy subjects of the
Empire in the 1920’s, and although they were sufficiently subdued for the most part, there were
incidents that Orwell describes, such as deliberate tripping on the soccer field, cat calls and
67
laughter, being spat on, and the stares of insultingly grinning youths in the streets and on the
trains, calling the Buddhist monks “the worst of all” (3).The descriptions George Orwell gives us
of Anglo/ Burmese relations in the short story, Shooting an Elephant, are also very clear. “All I
knew was that I was stuck between my hatred of the empire I served and my rage against the
evil-spirited little beasts who tried to make my job impossible” (4). He begins his story, “In
Moulmein, in Lower Burma, I was hated by large numbers of people---the only time in my life
that I have been important enough for this to happen to me. I was the sub-divisional police
officer of the town, and in an aimless, petty kind of way anti-European feeling was very bitter”
(3). His position in Burma would prevent him from being anything other than an enemy by any
Burmese whose opinion he could respect.
In 1946 Orwell corresponds with a female writer whose book, The Story of Burma, he
reviews. He writes, “Did you ever read my novel about Burma (Burmese Days)? I dare say it’s
unfair in some ways and inaccurate in some details, but much of it is simply reporting of what I
have seen” (Orwell, Collected Essays 114). This is a precious quote to those who seek
knowledge of both the state of Burma and the state of Orwell’s mind in Burma. There is a good
chance that Flory’s despair was Orwell’s as well, and we are very glad Orwell decided to go
home. The crux of Flory’s miserable life is that he is in complete sympathy with the Burmese but
completely unwilling to disobey the strictures of the pukka sahib. These words of anguish from
Burmese Days will echo in his book Nineteen Eighty-Four:
It is a stifling, stultifying world in which to live. It is a world in which every word
and every thought is censored......Free speech is unthinkable. All other kinds of
freedom are permitted. You are free to be a drunkard, an idler, a coward, a
backbiter, a fornicator; but you are not free to think for yourself. Your opinion on
every subject of any conceivable importance is dictated for you by the pukka
sahibs’ code. (69)
Orwell’s job, his sworn duty, was to keep the Burmese people trapped firmly beneath the
foot of all the pukka sahibs that had come from England to steal the bounty of Burma and
subjugate her people. Orwell had come to know that he had to leave Burma or he would become
Flory, bitter, disillusioned, old before his time. He understood the tremendous damage to the
human spirit that happens to the man who holds the whip. This time in Burma was critical to the
man who became the author of Nineteen Eighty-Four. He needed to become a piece of the dark
heart of the British Empire so that he could show us the desperation of both Winston and
O’Brien in a way that felt fantastic, yet possible. He needed to be a policeman in Burma to
become George Orwell.
Works Cited
Bixler, Norma. Burma: a Profile. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1971.
Bowker, Gordon. Inside George Orwell. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003.
68
Buddicom, Jacintha. “The Young Eric.” The World of George Orwell. Ed. Miriam Gross. New
York: Simon and Schuster, 1971.
“Commonwealth, the.” Britannica Student Encyclopedia. 2004. Encyclopedia Online. 18 Oct.
2004 http://0-www.search.eb.com.lrc.cod.edu:80/ebi/article?tocld=9272752.
Ferguson, Niall. Empire. New York: Basic Books, 2002.
Gross, John. “Imperial Attitudes.” The World of George Orwell. Ed. Miriam Gross. New York:
Simon and Schuster, 1971.
Htin Aung, Maung. A History of Burma. New York: Columbia University Press, 1967.
Lewis, Peter. George Orwell, the Road to 1984. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich,
Publishers, 1981.
Newsinger, John. Orwell’s Politics. New York: St. Martin’s Press, Inc., 1999.
Orwell, George. Burmese Days. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1934.
Orwell, George. The Collected Essays, Journalism and Letters of George Orwell. Vol. 4. New
York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1968.
Orwell, George. Nineteen Eighty-four. New York: Plume/Harcourt Brace Book, 1949.
Orwell, George. The Road to Wigan Pier. Orlando: Harcourt Brace & Company, 1937.
Orwell, George. Shooting an Elephant and Other Essays. New York: Harcourt Brace & World,
Inc., 1945.
Williams, Raymond. George Orwell. New York: The Viking Press, 1971.
69
70
Atheist, Anglican, or Recusant: Marlowe’s Revolt From Unorthodox
in The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus
by Sean Labbé
(English 220)
The Assignment: A brief study of the many tensions in forming Marlowe through
his play, Doctor Faustus.
F
aced with Marlowe’s Faustus, the reader confronts the perennial dilemma of how much the
author drew on himself in depicting his protagonist. Given Marlowe’s alleged ‘Atheist
Lecture,’ it is easy, though not necessarily accurate, to confuse the playwright with the
damnable doctor. In the lecture, Marlowe, if indeed it is Marlowe, exhibits the very soul of
atheism. Yet we all know how wary we should be of ‘interpreting particular works in the light of
general notions imputed, on various grounds, to their author’ (Knights, 97), i.e., ‘intentional
fallacy.’ It is far safer, I believe, to interpret authors in the light of their works. Accordingly, the
portrait that emerges of Marlowe through an examination of Faustus resembles less the ‘learned
blasphemer’ (Leech 4) of the lectures, and more a rather orthodox, if slightly disingenuous, critic
of the newfangled notions and purported freedoms of the Reformation and the soi-disant
‘Renaissance spirit, ’a critic who, through the play, imparts much of the unease and many of the
tensions inherent in his society and era.
It hardly needs underlining that in 16th century England, when the word ‘Atheism’
cropped up in connection with Marlowe, it carried with it a much heavier charge, one tinged with
treason to the Elizabethan ‘via media’ (Boas 109), than it does today. The term, as Boas goes on
to point out, had ‘much of the sweeping sinister associations that ‘Bolshevism’ ha[d] in the
twentieth [century]” (109). Indeed, in my various readings on Marlowe and his various plays, the
word ‘Atheist” is bandied about with little precision, so much so it seems almost a stock
allegation of anybody one disagreed with, and with connotations ranging from heathen to heretic
to occultist. Tamburlaine, who was a Muslim Mongol, is as much an ‘Atheist’ as the apparently
‘godlesse’ Marlowe (109).
Accusations of Marlowe’s atheism rest largely on the alleged ‘Atheist Lecture.’ The text,
supposedly a record of Marlowe’s own utterances, includes such pearls of insight as ‘Christ was
a bastard,’ and that ‘Gabriell’ pimped for the ‘holy ghost, because he brought the salutation to
Mary’ (Kocher, 160). With these and the many other witticisms before us, it is tempting to take
Marlow at face value as we read through Faustus. It would be easy for us, when Faustus, for
example, dismisses theology, to see this is an accurate representation of Marlowe’s own mind.
We could likewise view the scene of buffoonery involving the Pope as flowing quite naturally
from Marlowe’s irreverent pen. Yet, as Pinciss writes:
The Baines document, a note to the Privy Council accusing Marlowe of heresy
and treason, is also of questionable reliability. […] And, what is of more
importance, if Marlowe uttered heretical or treasonous remarks they may well not
have been said in sincerity. (9)
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Marlowe, he goes on to state, was truly a ‘bright, high-spirited’ sort ‘with theological
training’ who delighted his friends ‘with arguments that exercised their wit,’ but which ‘were not
held with any conviction’ (9-10). In short, even if the lectures are made up of Marlowe’s actual
words, how far we are to take them as his own views is a contentious matter. I agree with
Pinciss, and would even say, in light of my own analysis of Faustus, that the lecture no more
confirms that Marlowe was an atheist than the play does. I will say, however, while the ‘Lecture’
seems so tongue-in-cheek that I can scarcely imagine Marlowe’s keeping a straight face, the play
is deadly serious business indeed.
Certain surface issues in the play belie atheism in Marlowe, but not Faustus,
straightaway; since, as Boas claims, for an atheist, Marlowe sketches a very convincing idea of
hell (210). Hell is, as Mephostophilis describes it, ubiquitous, everywhere, encompassing all save
God and those, as I understand it, in His grace. Mephostophilis, in response to Faustus’ query on
how he managed to get out of hell, states:
Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it.
Think’st thou that I that saw the face of God
And tasted the eternal joys of heaven,
Am not tormented with ten thousand hells
In being deprived of everlasting bliss? (Faustus 1.3.75-78)
Actual fire and brimstone may not burn the damned, Mephostophilis says, but the loss of
heavenly bliss is as painful, indeed, more painful, ‘ten thousand’ times more painful. Though this
view of hell as more of a spiritual dimension as opposed to a physical location may not have
been orthodox in the strictest sense of the word in Marlowe’s day, it has an astoundingly
orthodox ring about it to modern ears. Whatever his views on the actual composition of hell,
Marlowe in no way denies its existence: if anything, he makes it seem worse than the fable
Faustus would reduce it to.
Faustus, at least early on, appears more an atheist in the more modern sense of the word:
damnation holds no fear because, if there is no God in heaven, there is no Lucifer in hell either.
When the doctor meets Mephostophilis for the first time, he says: ‘The word “damnation”
terrifies not me, / For I confound hell in elysium. My ghost be with the old philosophers’
(Faustus 1.3.57-58). Yet we can see that Faustus still holds out for something after death, and
perhaps is even more naïve than the average churchgoer in that he not only believes in a
hereafter, a pagan Elysium, but thinks he will be able to spend eternity conversing with the likes
of Plato, Aristotle, and the other great thinkers of old. (We see this idea in Dante’s Inferno: the
great philosophers all belong to a circle in Limbo, which as my former Italian Professor termed
it, was sort of a ‘Hell, First-Class,’ reserved for the classical masters who had the misfortune to
be born prior to Christ’s coming.)
To my mind, as well as to Pinciss’, a great irony in this drama is that Faustus lives and
works in Wittenberg, Germany (73). As we all know, this is where Martin Luther spearheaded
the Reformation by legendarily nailing his 95 theses to the Wittenberg cathedral door. One major
bone of contention in the Reformation is that churchmen wanted to replace the ‘Infallible
Church’ with the idea of the ‘Infallible Book’ (Boas 258), namely the Bible. Adherents firmly
believed this should be read in the vernacular so that the reader would have a more direct rapport
with divinity, with far fewer meddlesome intercessors. This sounds like a fine idea in theory, but
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Marlowe highlights problems with such an approach. When Faustus quotes from Jerome’s
Vulgate, and then translates the verse, he does what we students are often prone to: quoting out
of context, or using what Pinciss terms ‘choplogic’ (76). I checked the two quotes against my
own Bible, The New English Bible. In both quotes, Faustus truncates a text which in its entirety
refutes what he claims. Let us compare. Faustus says,
“The reward of sin is death.” That’s hard. (Faustus 1.1.40).
But the quote continues:
For sin pays a wage, and the wage is death, but God gives freely, and his gift is
eternal life, in union with Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6. 23-25)
Then, a few lines down, Faustus misrepresents again:
“If we say that we have no sin
We deceive ourselves, and there is no truth in us.”
Why then, belike, we must sin,
And so consequently die. (Faustus 1.1.42-45)
According to Pinciss, Faustus is a better logician than theologian for his syllogism only makes
sense if we skip the ‘next line in the epistle’ (73). The text of the original, in full, reads:
If we claim to be sinless, we are self-deceived and strangers to the truth. If we
confess our sins, he is just, and may be trusted to forgive our sins and cleanse us
from every wrong. (1 John 1.8-10)
Another irony, and a rather bitter one at that, here is how the attempt by Protestants to
eliminate the so-called middle-man and, thus, bring man closer to God has in effect resulted in
the opposite. Faustus, free to understand the text in his own way, and to his own ends, has
perverted its original message and distanced himself even more.
The irony, however, does not stop there. Faustus, who, in his prideful attempt to assume
Godlike proportions, would reenact the sin of Lucifer, misses the very chance that would have
made him more, in a theological sense, Godlike. When a person confesses his sins, which are
superabundantly obvious to God, that person, merely by recognizing the sin, brings himself
closer to God. In other words, when we see sin in ourselves, we are seeing ourselves as God sees
us, and this, rather paradoxically, aids in effecting a rapprochement between us and God.
We see further, implicit criticism of the Reformation’s effects through Faustus’s inability
to repent. I have a not entirely radical explanation for why Marlowe has Faustus damned, and
keeps him that way. Let us briefly return to the ‘Atheist Lecture.’ Among all the blasphemy and
the suggestion of homosexuality, one statement catches my eye, probably because it seems
slightly less tongue-in-cheek than the rest. It reads as follows:
That if there be any god or any good Religion, then it is in the papists because the
service of god is performed with more Ceremonies, as Elevation of the mass,
singing men, Shaven Crownes, et cetera. That all protestantes are hypocritical
asses. (Kocher 160)
Again, we are left to wonder how seriously Marlowe meant such a claim, and again if he actually
even said it. But I am not alone in seeing wistfulness for the old days of Catholicism in the play:
at least then one knew where one stood. Nobody states this case quite as well as Pinciss:
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The Protestant sinner or penitent now addressed God directly himself. Though
some may have thought communication vastly improved, others, no doubt, found
the distance between them and their God greatly increased. A priest granting
absolution and a panoply of saints offering spiritual support were, for some,
comforts of Catholicism that found no replacement in Protestantism. (73)
Where the Catholics of old have their confessors, saints, crucifixes, their rituals and prayers,
Faustus has only himself to turn to, and he is not left, as any Jesuit worth his salt would be, with
any ‘theological loopholes’ (Levin 53) to exploit. Indeed, contrition, for hard-line Protestants
like Luther, smacked far too much of ‘casuistry’ (53).
At this point, I may sound uncannily like a Counter-Reformation Catholic apologist. And
it is true that Marlowe, in addition to being accused of atheism, had also ‘incurred … the
suspicion of intending to join the Roman Catholic recusants abroad’ (Boas 109). Along with
Pinciss, however, I hardly see Marlowe’s Faustus as ‘pro-Catholic,’ or even simply ‘antiProtestant’ (74). Such a notion would entail assuming a large degree of orthodoxy on Marlowe’s
part (Levi 53), and would mean reducing the play to so much propaganda, which it belies by its
very complexity: there is too much irony to function as overt propaganda for either camp.
Taking the points set forth above into account, and perhaps somewhat counter-intuitively,
I would like to focus now on the scenes involving Pope Adrian. To my mind, Marlowe is having
it both ways here. On the one hand, the audience is presented with just the kind of image of a
cruel, vicious Pope that would have titillated their anti-clerical fancies. We have the spectacle of
a Pope who positively delights in dispensing harsh justice, ever ready to bestow his ‘dreadful
curse’ (Faustus 3.2.161) on all who lag in doing his bidding. When the cardinals duped by
Faustus plead ignorance regarding Bruno, the Pope inveighs heavily:
By Peter, you shall die
Unless you bring them forth immediately.
… False prelates, for this hateful treachery,
Cursed be your souls to hellish misery. (Faustus 3.3.50-51, 53-54)
Then, in an even more telling exchange, he is ready to invoke the same when Faustus snatches
his wine glass. Again, unless the bishops and friars, or ‘lubbers,’ as the Pope deems them, find
who did the ‘villainy,’ then by his ‘sanctitude,’ they will most assuredly die (Faustus 3.3.78).
Reading over these lines, I am ever reminded of the phrase ‘the man you love to hate.’ If
Marlowe truly had Catholic sympathies, one would be hard-pressed to find incontrovertible
evidence of it here. Yet, at the same time, we can hardly side wholeheartedly with Faustus, for
what he gets up to is little more than tomfoolery. Boas goes even so far as to state that these
‘childish tricks’ are absolutely ‘unworthy’ of Faustus as well as of the object of his pranks (212).
I believe they were inserted partly as a crowd-pleaser, and yet even as such they transcend such a
function: Marlowe is taking advantage of a commonplace among the people and turning it on its
head, as having Faustus, who is in league with Lucifer, put in a position where the crowd might
cheer him, likewise puts the audience in an awkward position. Faustus, at least in theory, is in
cahoots with the quote-unquote bad guys, Mephostophilis, and Lucifer, and if the Pope and his
ilk are truly to be seen as evil, then presenting connivance between the parties concerned, rather
than a division, would have been more efficacious in conveying this idea. Simply, it is
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problematic to read the scene as strictly anti-Catholic, since to do so makes for demonic, as it
were, bedfellows.
At this stage, we might begin to conclude that in Faustus, there is something to offend
everyone. The skirmish between the Pope and Faustus degenerates, despite the earnest
intonations of the friars, into complete foolishness, with Faustus shooting fireworks at the clerics.
A devout Catholic could be offended by the flat characterization of his coreligionists, while the
devout Protestant could be dismayed at the juvenile antics for which Faustus utilizes his eerie
powers. Yet, as Kirschbaum writes,
Marlowe’s play is no way destructive to the basic tenets of Christianity. On the
contrary, it enforces and illuminates those very tenets. (77)
He concludes, as do I, that the play is doctrinally ‘conventional,’ and claims that even
theologians as far-flung as St. Thomas Aquinas, Luther, and Calvin all would have approved of
the play as ‘an exemplum to teach the correct Christian path to God’ (77).
So, where does that leave us with regard to Marlowe and his beliefs? Needless to say, we
face considerable odds in attempting to erect a stable image of Marlowe amidst such instability.
How can we decisively settle the argument over whether Marlowe, insofar as his image emerges
in Faustus, was an atheist, which I doubt, or, in his heart of hearts, a Protestant, which I doubt, or
even a recusant, or covert Catholic, which I lastly also rather doubt? Should we concur with
Bloom, as quoted on page one, that Marlowe the nihilist believed in nothing, and merely affected
an orthodox persona to add layers of depth to his play? What is most likely is that Marlowe, as
Pinciss’s quote on page one states, sought to create drama out of contradiction--and here I
paraphrase the old dictum--not to provide the right answers, but to pose the right questions. As a
man of his time, a period of religious turmoil with switches back and forth between Catholicism
and Protestantism, with one form of religious orthodoxy and another vying with the great
aspirations of the Renaissance, Marlowe probably could not have avoided being influenced, no
matter what camp he was in, by the other camps. Even as a Protestant, let alone an atheist, he
would have been aware of the weight of the Catholic religious tradition Protestants had eagerly
shuffled off. At the same time, he, as an extremely bright young man, might have wished to shirk
the weight of all religious tradition, especially one which probably appeared ossified, dead
weight.
In the end, then, we can view Marlowe as similar to Faustus, though not necessarily in
terms of religion or lack of religion. Marlowe resembles Faustus, in that, while Faustus was
literally torn to pieces by demons, Marlowe appears torn in a much more metaphorical sense. He
questions religious orthodoxy, even belittles it, but at the same time holds up a scholarly person,
which many take as a cipher for the author, for scrutiny and criticism. Marlowe may judge, even
scorn, but he is not above putting himself in a position where he may be judged as well, though,
as shown in this paper, Marlowe, more than Faustus, resists exegesis.
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Works Cited
Bloom, Harold. The Western Canon. New York: Harcourt Brace & Co., 1994.
Boas, Frederick S. Christopher Marlowe: A Biographical and Critical Study. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1940.
Knights, L.C. ‘The Orthodoxy of Faustus.’ Twentieth Century Interpretations of Doctor Faustus.
Edited by Willard Farnham. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1969. 97100.
Kirschbaum, Leo. ‘Religious Values in Doctor Faustus.’ Twentieth Century Interpretations of
Doctor Faustus. Edited by Willard Farnham. Englewood
Cliffs,New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1969. 77-87.
Kocher, Paul H. ‘Marlowe’s Atheist Lecture.’ Marlowe: A Collection of Critical Essays. Edited
by Clifford Leech. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1964. 159-165.
Leech, Clifford. ‘Introduction.’ Marlowe: A Collection of Critical Essays. Edited by Clifford
Leech. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1964. 1-11.
Levin, Harry. ‘The Design of Doctor Faustus.’ Twentieth Century Interpretations of Doctor
Faustus. Edited by Willard Farnham. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc.,
1969. 43-53.
Marlowe, Christopher. The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus. The Longman Anthology of
British Literature, Volume One. Edited by David Damrosch, et al. New York: AddisonWesley Educational Publishers, 2003. 1143-1191.
Pinciss, Gerald. Christopher Marlowe. New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1975.
76
Splenda
by Rebecca Lunev
(Chemistry 105)
The Assignment: Write a commentary on a topic of scientific interest of your
choice. The subject should be of relevance to society today or be something of
historical importance. Limit should be about 4 pages.
H
umans take the energy they need to live from the food they eat. In the American diet,
most of this energy comes from carbohydrates. Carbohydrates are broken down by the
body and turned into simple sugars, which can be further metabolized into energy.
However, consumption of more calories than needed is directly linked to weight gain, which can
cause severe medical problems. The limitation of carbohydrates can lower the caloric intake and
reduce weight gain.
But the human body is programmed to crave sweet foods. While this programming was
designed to ensure that the body consumed nutritious fruits and vegetables, modern man has
developed ways to add sugars to every food. Sugars consumed without other nutrients become
“empty calories”, calories with no nutritional value that can cause weight gain if not limited. To
combat this, scientists have developed artificial sweeteners. Beginning with saccharin over one
hundred years ago, scientists have used artificial chemicals to sweeten food, unfortunately with
high risks of side effects.
In the 1970s, scientists developed a way to make sugar indigestible by the body. Because
it is made from sugar, this new compound, called sucralose, tastes more like sugar and has
similar properties when used in cooking. Because of the additive, sucralose is not absorbed by
the body and has a negligible effect on blood sugar levels and caloric intake. And, for reasons
not yet known, sucralose has the lowest occurrence of side effects of all artificial sweeteners.
Approved by the Food & Drug Administration (FDA) in 1988, sucralose is sold in the United
States under the brand name Splenda®.
Carbohydrates taken into the body are metabolized into simple sugars that can be used by
the body as energy. If the body consumes more energy than it needs, the excess can be stored as
fat. Dieticians and nutritionists can measure a person’s risk for obesity-linked diseases based on
his or her Body Mass Index (BMI). When the ratio of height in inches to weight in pounds
climbs above thirty, the risk of disease rises above fifty percent. Diabetes, heart disease, stroke,
and other diseases can be debilitating, even fatal if unchecked.
The elimination of excess carbohydrates from the diet is an effective part of a weight
control diet. By limiting the energy intake and increasing the energy output, the body will have
less excess energy to store, thus slowing weight gain and even promoting weight loss. While
carbohydrates are a necessary part of a balanced diet, common table sugar, or sucrose, is a source
of empty calories that is easy to avoid. Sucrose is not often found naturally. More often it is
added to desserts, such as cakes, cookies, and other baked goods. The safest way to lower
carbohydrates intake without losing nutrients is by eliminating sucrose.
However, cutting sweets from the diet completely, while physically beneficial, is not
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emotionally or spiritually satisfying. Americans think of sweet goods as comfort food, and while
some are willing to limit consumption, those who can eliminate it completely are few and far
between. On top of this, people with diabetes and other dietary restrictions seek ways to satisfy
their craving for sweets without causing the side effects. Thus, the need for an artificial
sweetener was born.
First came saccharin. Discovered in 1879, it became popular when Americans began
rationing sugar during World Wars I and II. In 1958, the Food & Drug Administration began
testing food additives for safety, but this rule did not apply to additives used before that time.
Therefore, saccharin was not actually tested by the FDA until the 1970s. Since then, the debate
over saccharin’s safety has never been resolved. While most professionals believe it is safe in
moderation, a Canadian study has linked excessive consumption with bladder cancer. Because it
is inexpensive to produce and has a high point, it is still commonly used to sweeten carbonated
beverages and baked goods. Saccharin is sold under the bran name Sweet ‘n Low®.
Aspartame, sold under the brand names NutraSweet® and Equal®, was approved by the
FDA as a food additive in the early 1980s and has been under attack ever since. Aspartame is
made from amino acids. Two of these, phenylalanine and aspartic acid, have been linked to
multiple sclerosis, lupus, psychological abnormalities, and even death. Byproducts of aspartame
metabolization include methanol and formaldehyde, which are known to be lethal in high doses.
Persons with a rare hereditary disease known as phenylketonuria cannot metabolize
phenylalanine, causing an allergic reaction that can be fatal. The FDA claims that aspartame is
perfectly safe in moderation, and that only persons who indulge in aspartame to excess are at risk
for these side effects. The FDA does require that all products containing aspartame be labeled as
containing phenylalanine because of the risk of death.
Then scientists at a subsidiary of Johnson & Johnson began experimenting with sugar
itself, more specifically the monosaccharide commonly known as glucose. A portion of the
glucose molecule is replaced with chloride, making a new substance called sucralose. Sucralose
was approved by the Food & Drug Administration (FDA) in 1998. Pure sucralose is more than
six hundred time sweeter than sugar. It is mixed with maltodextrin, a calorie-free starchy
powder, and sold under the brand name Splenda®.
Sucralose has many advantages. It has a shelf life similar to sugar. Some sugar
substitutes, including sugar alcohols, do not have a long shelf life, breaking down in the pantry
and becoming unusable. Also sucralose does not break down when exposed to heat as aspartame
does, making it easier to use in place of sugar in baking recipes. More important that these are
the two major selling points of sucralose. First, sucralose does not affect blood glucose levels.
Second, sucralose has not been linked to the severe side effects associated with sweeteners made
with other chemicals.
Sucralose is made when a glucose molecule is chlorinated. Glucose is a simple sugar
composed of chains of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. Three chains of the molecule are removed
and replaced with chlorine atoms. This new substance is crystalline and soluble in water. A
water solution of 5% sucralose is more than six hundred times sweeter than sugar.
The body is designed to metabolize carbohydrates by turning them into simple sugars.
Studies have shown that the body is confused by the addition of chlorine to the chain. Man
absorbs less than 25% of the sucralose ingested. The undigested sucralose passes through the
intestines into waste without being metabolized. The amount that is absorbed passes through the
body quickly and is expelled in urine. This is good news for diabetics, who can safely consume
sucralose without a significant effect on blood-glucose levels.
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The European Commission on Health & Consumer Protection conduced an extensive
study in 2000. They state: “there is adequate evidence, both for sucralose and its hydrolysis
products, that there are no concerns about mutagenicity, carcinogenicity, developmental or
reproductive toxicity.” Most side effects associated with artificial sweeteners are based on the
body’s inability to properly metabolize the new chemicals. Allergic reactions especially are
caused by metabolic problems. The European Commission found that these metabolic problems
do not occur with sucralose. They ten concluded “…sucralose is acceptable as a sweetener for
general food use…”.
All foods should be consumed in moderation. A healthy lifestyle begins with a wellbalanced diet that strictly limites empty calories. Before 1998, a person looking to sweeten foods
without the empty calories was limited in their selection by the high risk of side effects
associated with the sweeteners. Now there is sucralose. Sucralose, sold under the brand name
Splenda®, is a sugar-based sweetener that has a negligent effect on blood-glucose levels and a
low risk of side effects. Splenda is bets used when mixed with sugar in baking, lowering the
actual amount of sugar used without effecting the taste of the finished product. Thus, Americans
can reduce their intake of empty calories without risking their lives or losing their desserts.
Works Cited
“Opinion of the Scientific Committee on Food on sucralose.” European Commission of Health
& Consumer Protection. Online. September 7, 2000. Available:
food2/hojovi/scf/op_final/Sucralose2000.doc
Henkel, John. “Sugar Substitutes: Americans Opt for Sweetness and Life.” FDA Consumer.
Online. February 1, 2005. Available: www.fda.gov/fdac/features/1999/699_sugar.html.
Rinzler, Carol Ann. Nutrition for Dummies, 3rd Edition. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley Publishing, 2004.
Roberts, H. J., M.D. Aspartame (NutraSweet) Is It Safe? Philadelphia: The Charles Press,
1990.
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Cultural Literacy and The American Public Schools
by Julie McKee
(English 102)
The Assignment: Analytical summary and critique of E.D. Hirsch, Jr.’s “Cultural
Literary and The Schools” (1985).
I
n “Cultural Literacy,”(1985) E.D. Hirsch, Jr. argues that there needs to be a reform in
American public school curriculum. Students are not being taught or equipped with the
necessary background knowledge and facts required to be culturally literate. “Literacy in this
fundamental sense requires not just technical proficiency but also “cultural literacy”(Hirsch 129),
he writes. Reading is a skill that entails more than just the basic grasp and understanding of
phonics and vocabulary. It is a process that requires high school graduates to have a shared
cultural knowledge of America in order to digest, understand, analyze and communicate to
others what they read. This is not only to be successful in whatever they pursue, but also to be
true members of a democracy.
If students know how to read, but lack the key cultural knowledge needed in order to
understand and logically communicate what they have read, they cannot be classified as truly
literate. Hirsch conducted an experiment with students at the University of Virginia and at a local
community college to test his hypothesis that cultural literacy was necessary to comprehension.
Their role was to first read essays on friendship, a simple and familiar topic, and the researchers
determined that they were literate. Then, the students were given a piece that compared Ulysses
S. Grant and Robert E. Lee, and the once literate community college students struggled. Since
Grant and Lee were, ironically, unfamiliar to these residents of Richmond (home of the
Confederacy) their reading pace slowed down, and they had trouble understanding what was
written. Likewise, an otherwise literate group of individuals in India had trouble reading and
understanding a piece about an American wedding, just as an otherwise literate group of
individuals in America had trouble reading and understanding a piece about an Indian wedding
(Hirsch 129). All groups struggled with reading, not because of word choice or phonics, but
simply because they were culturally illiterate. Having the proper background and knowledge of
a specific culture is essential because published writers (in their respective cultures) assume
cultural literacy in their readers.
In order for American students to gain knowledge not only of the world but also of their
own culture, schools must implement “extensive” and “intensive” learning into the curriculum.
Extensive knowledge is isolated, “atomic facts”(133), while intensive knowledge provides a
model that shows how the facts go together. “Such intensive learning is necessary,” Hirsch
explains, “because the mental model we get from the detailed study of an example lets us
connect our atomic facts together and build a coherent picture of reality”(133). Just as facts need
to be applied to an example, an example needs to be applied to facts. Therefore, extensive and
intensive knowledge need to be taught concurrently. However, the
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best time to get this extensive background information is before tenth grade, and
the earlier the better. In early grades, children are fascinated by straightforward
information. Our official modern distaste for old-fashioned memorization and
rote learning seems more pious than realistic. Young children are eager to master
the materials essential for adult life and if they believe in the materials they will
proudly soak them up like sponges and never forget them. (134)
Teaching these atomic facts in grade school will build children’s cultural literacy, which
they will ultimately use for the rest of their lives. Children will be determined to learn the facts
because they want to be accepted as an adult and feel like they are a part of the adult community.
It is the responsibility of American public schools to offer children the cultural literacy that some
of them may not receive at home to prepare them for the writings that will be directed to them as
general readers when they are older.
This same ability is crucial for all high school graduates in order to thrive and be
successful in life. Even if some graduates go on to become brilliant scientists, but cannot explain
the workings of their job to the “common reader”(130), then their true genius will be hidden
from the rest of the world. In contrast, those who can decode an essay word for word, but cannot
understand or accurately convey what they have read, have no literacy.
I agree that in order for students to attain the cultural knowledge they will use for their
rest of their lives, grade schools need to incorporate extensive learning into their curriculum
when children are most eager and determined to learn. However, Hirsch is perhaps too quick to
scrutinize and blame all American public school teachers for students’ lack of cultural
knowledge. Students should also be held responsible for their cultural literacy. Throughout my
educational career I have learned about wars, historical figures and icons, state names and
capitals, cultures of the world, and the list could continue on and on. The reason I cannot
remember half of our country’s state capitols or what happened during the Cold War is not
because teachers did not teach and test me on the information, but rather because I chose to
forget it. I simply formed an attitude that is commonly shared among students, and teachers
probably hear it at least once a day, “why are we learning this, and when am I ever going to use
this in the real world?” Teachers teach the material that is required and sufficient in order for
students to be culturally literate, but ultimately, students make the choice of either retaining the
information, or discarding it.
During my seventh and eighth grade years, the one class that I dreaded each day was
history class. I am ashamed at how little I know about our nation’s past, and I am to blame for
my own cultural illiteracy—not my teachers. Each day during history class I came ill prepared; I
had not read the chapters or bothered to memorize information until test day. The night before
each test I often studied for hours until I knew every boldface vocabulary word, person, and
event. I aced every history test I had during those years, but the tragic part is, I cannot recall
basic events in history today because I forgot and discarded all the information I memorized.
The tricky thing about keeping information current and accessible when it is needed, is that it
requires frequent practice. Perhaps another reason I do not have the cultural knowledge I need at
my disposal is because I am not regularly reciting and using the information on a daily basis.
Teachers can supply their students with the appropriate background knowledge and “atomic
facts,” but if students do not regularly go over the information, they are destined to forget it.
For example, when I was in kindergarten I learned the ABC’s. The reason I can recite
the ABC’s today is because I use the alphabet every time I read or write. I also learned how to
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add, subtract, multiply, and divide in grade school, and I still know how to do these procedures
today because I use those principles when I go shopping and balance my checkbook. I learned
how to find the hypotenuse of a triangle, but if an individual were to ask me how to do it today, I
would not be able to because I have not been required to perform that task since my sophomore
year of high school. In order for students to be culturally literate, they need to realize on their
own that having the proper background knowledge is important for them to succeed. They might
not need to keep the information current by rehearsing it and continually reading about it, but
they will remember, if only vaguely, what they have learned, and that is what is important.
Hirsch also argues that schools need to implement “extensive” and “intensive” learning
into their curriculum, but it already exists in some school classrooms. I work at a daycare at
Evergreen School and the fifth grade students told me that they were learning about the
Revolutionary War, and their teacher had assigned them the names of people from the war to
research. They were required to find ten facts about each individual they were assigned, and
then they had to share their information with the class. The children told me that they do many
different projects that pertain to what they are learning, and it appears teachers are teaching
extensively and intensively concurrently. They did also tell me, however, that once they learn all
these facts, they tend to forget the specific details because the information is not used, and I
understand. The students also told me how they are learning about the Stamp Act and
Intolerable Acts, which I also learned in grade school. Then, the information was presented to
me in high school again, and I had to relearn it all over again because I had forgotten it. In order
for students to be culturally literate, they have to revisit information, and have a desire to keep
learning new things.
In “America Skips School,”(1993) James Barber discusses how adult Americans pretend
to care about education. “…but today [he is] increasingly persuaded that the reason for the
country’s inaction is that Americans do not really care about education—the country has grown
comfortable with the game of “let’s pretend we care”(154). Barber blames parents for their
children’s illiteracy because the parents themselves are not literate, and they do not seem to care.
“The illiteracy of the young turns out to be our own reflected back to us with embarrassing
force”(156). Children learn about the importance of things from their parents, and if they learn
from their parents that formal education is not that important, then more than likely, they will
also share that same view. Barber reiterates my point that education is important, but being
literate is a choice. Students need to care about the information that they learn in school, and
continue to educate themselves after graduation in order to remain culturally literate.
Teachers and American public schools are not solely to blame for students’ illiteracy;
rather, mature students know they are just as responsible for the information that they know, or
do not know. Teachers are supplying their students with most of the background knowledge they
need to be defined as truly literate, but students also need to have the desire to retain the
information, and realize that it is important for them to know for the future, even if they do not
truly understand why now. Then and only then will they be culturally literate in order to
function intelligently in an American democracy.
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Works Cited
Barber, Benjamin R. “American Skips School.” The McGraw-Hill Reader: Issues Across the
Disciplines. Ed. Gilbert J. Muller. 8th ed. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2003. 153-63.
Hirsch. E.D., Jr. “Cultural Literacy and the Schools.” Reading Culture: Contexts for Critical
Reading and Writing. Ed. Diana George and John Trimbur. 2nd ed. New York: HarperCollins, 1995. 127-38.
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Predicting Failure
by Matt Naglewski
(History 112)
The Assignment: Book Review: Review the book We by Eugeny Zamyatin.
Place the book in proper historical context. Pay special attention to the roles of
ideology, individuality of ideal societies in the 20th century.
A
man’s relation to the society as a whole, and particularly his duties to and freedom’s
within it, has long been a fundamental point of deliberation for theorists, but especially so
in the time since the Enlightenment. What does it mean to be free? Which aspects of life
are the responsibility of the citizens and which belong to the state? Is happiness for all an
attainable goal? Questions of society probably never will uniform answers throughout the world,
as nations can be so diverse that the practical application of a given theory in different places
may yield different results. In We, Yevgeny Zamyatin took an intriguing yet ruthlessly intricate
look at a futuristic society dominated by extreme Socialist ideology. But through this cryptic
story what was Zamyatin’s message? What was it that caused this book to be kept out of
publication in Russia for 68 years? To illustrate the paradoxically chaotic workings of a state
founded on a basis of logic was probably not Zamyatin’s intent. For purposes of getting at the
heart of the story, let us analyze his treatment of individuality, ideal societies, and ideology.
The first area of discussion is individuality. OneState was virtually devoid of it. The
citizens, or numbers as they were referred to in OneState, did not have personal mothers and
fathers, had standardized uniforms, and even had compulsory hairstyling in the form of shaved
heads. No individuality or dissent was tolerated. Loss of individuality was the cost of
efficiency. Should a number fail to conform to the established logical law, it was the duty of the
other numbers to report him. All this was done for the sake of happiness, but it could be the case
that people appreciate happiness more when they discover it themselves rather than being told
what it is. The narrator of the story, D-503, explained the nearly non-existent view of individual
rights in a rhetorical bit of wisdom comparing the individual and the state to a gram and a ton,
respectively. The obvious action, he claimed, was for the number to, “Forget that you’re a gram
and feel yourself a millionth part of a ton” (111). Grasping a possible meaning from this proverb
of quasi-Communist sentiment becomes possible when it is shown in its historical context.
During the recently concluded First World War, millions of individuals lost their lives in
the name of the states. Zamyatin may have been feeding off of people’s losses of family and
friends. OneState’s domination over the numbers casts light on a view of the irrelevance of
individuals in relation to the state. In addition to its unprecedented casualty rate, World War I
also marked the advent of horrific means of destruction of humans like tanks and mines, etc.
Many in the world may have seen these inventions as prime examples of efficiency displacing
humanity. This hopeless scenario for individuals in post-revolution OneState may have been a
suggestion of the future for Russians in the wake of their revolutions. All of this could have
appeared to be counter to the interests of the fledgling Communist regime and thusly contributed
to the suppression of the book in Russia.
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The second topic is the conception of ideal societies. OneState’s social structure was
purported to be the apex of civilization. Through adherence to principles of logic and efficiency
and elimination of personal sentiments, OneState contrived a society seen as ideal. The problem
with this was who is to say what an “ideal” society is? As was stated earlier, defining the
relationship between citizen and state is a primary task of a society. OneState put almost all the
emphasis on the state to the exclusion of interests of the numbers, in the name of happiness.
Human life was totally devalued, as was evident when ten members of the crew of the
INTEGRAL died in an accident and no one even stopped working. The gram-ton analogy thus
seemed contradicted, for the numbers were not part of a whole, they were in fact nothing. This
could be seen as a critique of the Communist system. The labor of individuals was utilized for
the advancement of the state while they themselves were given no recognition or concern. To
the citizens of a country like Russia whose leaders preached the merit of a collective state,
prospects of treatment like this could have been very upsetting. Zamyatin’s allegory may have
disturbed many if his words had reached Russians since his portrayal of what contemporary
society could become was so grim. People in Russia may have questioned their society intensely
due to this warning, which naturally would lead to questioning of the foundation of any system,
its ideology.
Ideology was a very important theme in We. Multiple ideologies were at work during
Zamyatin’s time, and likewise were represented in his book. The first ideology critiqued was
Communism. Although the ubiquitous reach of OneState was more reminiscent of
totalitarianism, the fashioning of all the numbers into a single collective whole had a distinct
Communist quality. But the society that was depicted in the story showed little to no appeal for
citizens. In OneState, the numbers were not parts of a whole, feeding off of each other to derive
strength. Instead, they were alienated from each other and the state. Alienation from the state
was evident in the total control exercised over the numbers, and alienation from each other was
made clear by the lack of care shown by the crewmembers of the INTEGRAL that ten coworkers had just perished. As we saw how coldly people were treated when Communism ran
amok in OneState, the idea here might be that ideologies need to focus more on people and less
on abstract concepts of regulating them. This maltreatment was echoed in Russia in the years
following the writing of We.
From the idea of regulating people, another ideology appears as one Zamyatin took aim
at. Frederick Taylor’s study of scientific management pervaded English society where the author
spent much time. It also made the capitalist workplace comparable to OneState in its allcontrolling nature and atmosphere that diminished the importance of people. Taylor’s work
belittled people as interchangeable. We questioned the application of scientific constants to
societal variables by taking it to extreme lengths to highlight its shortcomings. One could see
this as a challenge to the entirety of the newly emerging social sciences. Similar to Communism,
Zamyatin’s view on industrial capitalism paints a picture of forlorn citizens dominated by
leadership. It is intriguing to wonder what he would posit as a solution to the social ideological
void he advanced.
The third ideology that influenced Zamyatin was Romanticism. As an ideology that
opposed the rationalism prevalent in the Enlightenment, Romanticism did not have to look far
for material discrediting human reason. World War I devastated people and states alike without
much good reason. The stripping of the number’s individual emotions possibly alluded to the
stripping of any remnants of human innocence by the First World War. The role of Romanticism
takes a subordinate role in the present inquiry, being as it was more an artistic than a political
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philosophy.
After reviewing the roles of individuality, conceptually ideal societies, and ideology, We
takes on a much deeper and clearer story than was directly apparent. Zamyatin meant to suggest
the perils of Communism while pessimistically asserting the futility of human rebellion.
Although Communism had yet to reach its worst stages in Russia, a distrust of any government
there could be seen as well founded when one considers the barrage of setbacks that hindered
Russia in the several years prior to the writing of We, from the War to famines to internal
revolutions. As problems like these were dealt with around the world, some ought to apply
science to the problems in hopes of crafting solutions. In some cases, as Zamyatin might attest,
the expediency of the efficiency that came from the social sciences could be a mask for, or even
the cause of, the complete devaluation of humanity. By decoding the analogy between OneState
and the real world, and recognizing the course of history pursuant to the story, one can observe
the validity of Zamyatin’s pessimistic view. So depending on one’s point of view, the 68-year
suppression of We could have its merits.
Works Cited
Zamyatin, Yevgeny. We. Trans. with a foreword by Gregory Zilboorg, Intro by Peter Rudy.
Preface by Marc Slonin. New York: Datton, c 1924.
87
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Nawal El Saadawi: The Legacy of Stories
by Stacy Nalley
(English 130)
The Assignment: Write a contextual research paper on an author whose work we
read in class, so as to better understand the author, her socio-historical and
cultural framework, and her overall body of work.
S
tories from her grandmother, her mother, her father, her patients, fellow prisoners . . .
stories which beg to be told. Providing a voice for these stories through her work as an
author, physician, educator, and political activist is not a choice for El Saadawi. “Writing,”
says El Saadawi “is like breathing in the air of life. I cannot stop” (Daughter 54).
The child who listened carefully to these stories has grown up to be regarded as the Arab
world’s leading feminist. All of her work is geared toward battling the injustices and oppression
faced by women in the Middle East. How did the stories El Saadawi grew up hearing shape the
activist she has become? What role does storytelling play in her writing? And, finally, how has
her work raised awareness of the treatment of women in the Middle East? Exploration of these
questions provides insight into the importance of storytelling in the shaping of societal views.
The use of storytelling as a method of raising public awareness and thus shaping
worldviews has long been acknowledged. Throughout history, horrific conditions have spawned
incredible literary legacies. Many survivors of the Holocaust reported the need to bear witness to
the atrocities they experienced. Examining some of the literature created after World War II by
Holocaust survivors illuminates the reasons authors tell their stories.
Primo Levi, Holocaust survivor and author of Survival in Auschwitz, explains why he
devoted much of his energy after World War II to writing: “The need to tell our story to ‘the
rest’, to make ‘the rest’ participate in it, had taken on for us, before our liberation and after, the
character of an immediate and violent impulse, to the point of competing with our other
elementary needs” (9). Levi states that he tells his story as a form of “interior liberation” (9).
In his essay “The Power of Stories”, Scott Russell Sanders offers reasons why he
considers stories a source of self-illumination and hope. He begins his essay by telling a story
about a situation in which he ignored a cry for help. As the years passed, the memory of this
encounter became a story which he would recall from time to time. The story evoked “a burst of
clarity, about who he was and who he wished to become” (84).
El Saadawi acknowledges the importance of storytelling: “Women have an unwritten
history told orally by one generation to the other” (Daughter 75). She has made it her mission to
record this history. Her direct style and addressing of the most sensitive topics sheds a harsh
spotlight on the horrors suffered by the women of her region, drawing the reader into reluctant
participation. Awareness creates a feeling of responsibility.
As a story is passed from person to person, a new layer is added as the words are filtered
through the listener. As the stories around El Saadawi intersected with the world she witnessed,
she began to formulate strong questions about the differences in the treatment of men and
women.
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She wrote to express these questions and to seek answers. Her first letter was written to
God asking why it was His will that men should be treated differently than women. Through the
words of her father, her mother, and her paternal Grandmother Sittil Hajja, El Saadawi began to
understand that she “had been born female in a world that only wanted males” (Daughter 52).
In her autobiography A Daughter of Isis, El Saadawi tells the story of her own birth, as
told to her by her Grandmother Sittil. When she was born, the midwife pushed apart her thighs
to answer the all-important question: Was this baby a male or female? When the gender was
determined, the midwife let out a “sound of deep regret before she let it [El Saadawi] drop to
drown in the basin full of water” (20). The baby’s survival is said to be determined by the will
of God. That El Saadawi survived seems to be proof of her mother’s words: “Throw Nawal in
the fire and she will come out unhurt” (2). This message has infused El Saadawi with the
courage to defy the odds throughout her life.
El Saadawi’s mother passed her dreams along to her daughter in whispers: “I wanted to
be a musician, and play music, or to finish my education and find a place where I could
experiment and invent something useful. I dreamt of galloping on a horse to the horizon, of
riding in an aeroplane to see the world, but your grandfather Shoukry took me out of school and
married me off to your father” (Daughter 6). El Saadawi writes of a mother who was proud of
her daughter’s rebellious spirit, but sometimes too weak to stand up for her. (Daughter 2)
El Saadawi’s father also imparted his unrealized dreams upon his daughter. Spending his
childhood dreaming of freeing his country from colonial rule, freeing “himself of the bondage of
his government job to become a poet, or writer”, he died in exile without ever achieving his
aspirations (Daughter 6). Growing up with her parents’ regrets following her like a shadow seem
to have left El Saadawi determined to realize her own dreams.
Recalling that her grandmother, who had never been to school, provided her with her first
lessons in philosophy, religion and politics, is an acknowledgement of the influence of the stories
she heard while following Sittil through the fields. Sittil’s graphic description of the brutal way
in which her clitoris was cut off with a razor by a midwife echoed in El Saadawi’s young ears: “I
was screaming at the top of my voice, “Mother, where are you?’ . . . but that unnamable woman .
. .took hold of me, tied me up as though trussing a chicken, covered my head with a shawl and
pulled my thighs wide apart so that she could tear off my surface below. . .her finger going
through it like a nail cutting into my flesh with a burning pain” (Daughter 27).
It was also through Sittil’s lens that El Saadawi learned about the customs of arranged
marriage. She recalls the vivid words of her grandmother who, at age ten, was led from her
father’s house to her husband’s house on the back of a mule with the blood of her virginity
“flowing down her over the saddle” (Daughter 31). Upon arriving at the bridegroom’s house,
her grandmother cowered on the floor in fear. After hesitating when ordered to prepare supper,
she was beaten with a cane. El Saadawi was told that this custom of beating the bride on her
wedding night was performed to demonstrate the husband’s authority. The ten-year old Sittil
was then raped by her new husband, whom she had only just met. Her cries were stifled so as
not to bring shame to her family. It is no wonder these stories ignited in El Saadawi a passion to
retell them through her books.
Reviewing her body of work, fiction and non-fiction, the impact of these stories on El
Saadawi is irrefutable. El Saadawi explores these topics in order to promote awareness of their
horrors. She layers her own perception of the stories she heard with those of patients and
prisoners she encounters.
In her book The Hidden Face of Eve, she devotes a chapter to demystifying the brutal act
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of clitoris removal, commonly referred to as female circumcision, and explaining its harmful
effects. She opens the book with the story of her own experience at the age of six. She provides
a poignant illustration of the emotional scars left by this experience: “The memory of the
circumcision continued to track me down like a nightmare. I had a feeling of insecurity, of the
unknown waiting for me at every step I took into the future” (8).
In this non-fiction account, she creates a dialogue that encompasses the stories she has
been told by patients having suffered complications due to this procedure. Most of the patients,
seeking treatment for physical complications, are unaware of the profound effect this procedure
has had on them psychologically. It is through El Saadawi’s gentle probing and the sharing of
her own experience that the women are able to unburden their stories and shed the shame of the
act by acknowledging its ramifications. (33-42) Storytelling serves a dual purpose in this
instance by providing catharsis for the patient and increasing the reader’s empathy and
understanding of the horror of the act.
Scott Sanders acknowledges the importance of empathy when he quotes Thoreau’s
question: “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an
instant”(91)? Sanders maintains this miracle occurs most often as a result of storytelling (91).
El Saadawi explores female circumcision and its implications in her novel, A Woman at
Point Zero. She describes Firdaus’, the novel’s heroine, confusion at one day having this part of
her body violently removed and no longer being able to experience sexual pleasure. “It was as if
I could no longer recall the exact spot from which it [sensation of pleasure] used to arise, or as
though a part of me, of my being, was gone and would never return” (15).
El Saadawi uses storytelling as a vehicle with which to tell her heroine’s story in A
Woman at Point Zero. Firdaus is a prisoner awaiting execution for killing her pimp. Her story is
told to a psychiatrist collecting research on the emotional problems of female prisoners. While
written in a novel form, the book is based on an actual encounter between El Saadawi and
Firdaus. In this novel in which Firdaus relates the events of her life leading up to the prison
sentence, the topics of child molestation, arranged marriage, and prostitution are explored (1103).
The idea that child molestation is considered a taboo topic in Egyptian culture does not
deter El Saadawi from addressing it. On the contrary, it makes her more determined. In her
book The Hidden Face of Eve, El Saadawi discuses her dedication “to the task of unmasking the
double face of the society in which we live”(16). She recounts the story of a young woman who,
from the age of five, had been improperly touched by her grandfather. This experience left the
young woman filled with shame and self-doubt. It was through sharing the story with El
Saadawi that she was able to lighten her burden and gain confidence in her inner voice (18).
Storytelling and writing as a means of self-discovery was a connection El Saadawi made
at an early age. As a child, she would coax stories from her sisters “despite all the people around
us who were forcing silence on their voices” (Daughter 53). She then put their stories to paper in
order to learn more about her sisters, herself, and the world in which she lived (Daughter 53).
In her review of El Saadawi’s autobiography Walking Through Fire, Journalist Ilona Lo
Iacona notes the use of storytelling as an effective communicator of El Saadawi’s message of
resistance. The “use of snippets of conversations between herself and her femes throughout the
book. . .with each of the women speaking in a distinctive voice” provides a stark contrast
between their statements and El Saadawi’s feelings (55). The dialogue between her female
friends makes clear the distinction between their more traditional views of men, marriage, and
romance and El Saadawi’s very progressive thoughts on these issues (55).
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The importance of a woman’s virginity is another social issue El Saadawi explores at
great length. In the book Everyday Life in the Muslim Middle East, El Saadawi contributes an
excerpt which describes the common practice of shunning a woman whose purity is questioned.
El Saadawi tells the story of a young patient who was brought in for examination by her
husband. The girl did not leave the required blood on her bed sheets on their wedding night.
Despite El Saadawi’s confirmation that the girl was indeed a virgin, she was divorced by her
husband. When the young girl returned to El Saadawi’s office, she wore “the face of an old
woman, aged before her time. Sorrow had sketched lines of pain on her face which made her
resemble the faces of the dead – of whom I had seen too many in the shadow of the medical
profession” (82).
During her time as a practicing physician, many women with similar stories passed
through El Saadawi’s office. The punishments inflicted on these women ranged from divorce,
beatings, public shame and rejection by family. Because a woman’s purity is a direct reflection
on her family and its reputation, women could even find themselves the targets of death or
plunged into such despair as to attempt suicide (Bowen 83). Witnessing these stories compelled
El Saadawi to use her pen to educate the world by giving voice to the stories through her writing.
Writing is her way of combating what she calls the “most lethal and dangerous weapon of
all”: the anaesthetizing of the mind (“War” 7). In her paper “War Against Women and Women
Against War,” which she presented at the World Social Forum in 2004, El Saadawi discusses the
brainwashing which occurs when dissident voices are banned in a society. The goal of this type
of thought control is “to make women obedient instruments of their own oppression and
transmitters of this false consciousness to future generations of children, of girls and boys”, thus
robbing women of their most intrinsic power.
This power is exemplified by noting the effect of strong female voices in El Saadawi’s
childhood. Ever cognizant of this power, El Saadawi has refused to be silenced. Describing
herself as the “voice of the silent majority”, she has fearlessly fought to empower women to
organize and liberate themselves (McMillan 5). She recognizes the tremendous political impact
of writers in countries, such as Egypt, where the government is weak, noting that “a piece of
poetry can make a revolution” (McMillan 1).
In 1981, El Saadawi’s passion to educate the world landed her in prison along with
fifteen hundred other Egyptian intellectuals who expressed political differences of opinion with
President Anwar Sadat. Incarceration did not silence the storytelling. Instead, within forty-eight
hours, El Saadawi and her fellow inmates were exchanging accounts of what had happened to
each of them (Memoirs 35).
Her three-month incarceration in the women’s prison, Al Kanatu, was spent carefully
listening and secretly recording on toilet paper her own experiences layered with those of fellow
inmates. El Saadawi’s imprisonment provided powerful artistic inspiration as she turned her
recordings and memories into novels, plays, and a book of memoirs (Malti-Douglas 160).
In her book Memoirs From The Women’s Prison, El Saadawi explores the role of
storytelling in creating community. As these women of diverse beliefs and social backgrounds
were thrown together in cramped, filthy conditions, their sharing of stories united them.
Through their cooperation, the women were able to accomplish improvements in their
surroundings by unifying their voices (Memoirs 40).
Unifying the voice of women is at the heart of El Saadawi’s work. She writes in order
“to connect the village, the grassroots with the international” (McMillan 4). She expresses her
belief in change coming from the “collective power of the people” and she feels her role is to
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reach her countrywomen and men first (McMillan 7). For this reason, she writes in Arabic.
Through the gentle passing of stories written to the Arab world, El Saadawi envisions the
lighting of minds (McMillan 8). Understanding that changing patriarchal views that have been
in place for generations is a gradual process, El Saadawi uses her words “to make connections”
and fill in the gaps of fragmented knowledge offered by the media, the government, and the
religious systems (McMillan 3). Scott Sanders and El Saadawi find common ground in the belief
that all humans are born with creativity and knowledge that is waiting to be released (Sanders 92,
McMillan 2). Stories, in their finest form, can be the catalyst which releases these qualities and
counteracts the negative influences of those with selfish agendas (Sanders 92). As enlightenment
occurs, so too will revolution (McMillan 8).
Combining the ideas of revolution, unity, and political power with her voice as a writer,
El Saadawi took a formal step into the political arena with the founding of the Arab Women’s
Solidarity Association (AWSA). The AWSA is an “international organization dedicated to
lifting the veil from the mind of the Arab woman” (Malti-Douglas 11)
This organization gives El Saadawi a platform from which to spread her message to an
international audience. The AWSA began with one hundred twenty members devoted to the idea
that the liberation of the Arab people could not be separated from the liberation of the Arab
woman. “By 1985, AWSA International had over three thousand members and was granted
consultative status with the Economic and Social Council of the United Nations as an Arab nongovernmental organization (NGO)” (El Saadawi Home).
Between 1982 and 1991, under El Saadawi’s leadership, the AWSA worked worldwide
to raise awareness about Arab women’s lives through conferences, the publication of magazines
and books, and the production of films. In 1991, the AWSA took a public stand against the Gulf
War and was closed down by the Egyptian government. The organization moved to Algeria until
it could reopen in Cairo in 1996. Two North American branches exist, in San Francisco and
Seattle. This NGO continues to gain status in the world and work tirelessly to spread its
message. Through the AWSA, El Saadawi has given thousands of women a unified political
voice (El Saadawi Home).
While El Saadawi has many venues from which to fight the system, the written word
remains her most effective weapon. For El Saadawi, there is no distinction between writing and
fighting. At age seventy-five, she is relentless in her pursuit of truth. This is her message:
“Words should not seek to please, should not hide the wounds in our bodies, the shameful
moments in our lives. Sometimes words shock us, give us pain, but they can provoke us to face
ourselves, to question what we have accepted for thousands of years. There still remains a lot to
say. . .” (Daughter 292). It suggests that the ghosts in El Saadawi’s head are still rattling their
chains.
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Works Cited
Bowen, Donna Lee and Early, Evelyn A., ed. Everyday Life in the Muslim Middle East.
Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press 1993.
El Saadawi, Nawal. A Daughter of Isis. London and New York: Zed Books Ltd. 1999.
El Saadawi, Nawal. The Hidden Face of Eve – Women in the Arab World. Trans. Sherif Hatata.
Massachusetts: Beacon Press 1980.
El Saadawi, Nawal. Home page. AWSA Section. 12 Nov. 2004
<http://www.nawalsadawi.net/AWSA/index.hmtl.
El Saadawi, Nawal. Memoirs From The Woman’s Prison. Trans. Marilyn Booth. Berkeley and
Los Angeles: University of California Press 1986
El Saadawi, Nawal. “War Against Women and Women Against War.” 11 Jan. 2004
<http://www.nawalsaadawi.net/articles.net/articlesnawal/MumbaiNawalPaper.Doc
El Saadawi, Nawal. Woman at Point Zero. London and New York: Zed Books Ltd. 1975.
Levi, Primo. Survival in Auschwitz. New York: Touchstone 1958.
Lo Iacona, Ilona. “Ilona Lo Iacona on a Portrait of the Writer as a Young Woman.” Arena
Magazine Feb.-Mar. 2003: 54-55.
Malti-Douglas, Fedwa. Men, Women, And God(s) – Nawal El Saadawi and Arab Feminist
Poetics. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press 1995.
McMillan, Stephanie. “A Conversation with Dr. Nawal El Saadawi.” 1999.
<http://home.earthlink.net/~twoeyesmagazine/issue1/nes.htm
Sanders, Scott Russell. “The Power of Stories.” The Force of Spirit. Massachusetts: Beacon
Press 2000.
94
Effects of Nesting Acanthomycops claviger on Soil in Recreated Tallgrass Prairie
by Allan Norgaard
(Honors Biology 103)
The Assignment: Conduct original research and write a paper about the research
that follows a format in a particular scientific journal.
Abstract
H
abitat loss and disturbance have been significant contributors to the loss of nearly
all native North American mesic tallgrass prairie. Through comparison of basic soil
conditions and macroinvertebrate diversity comparisons of sites controlled from
and influenced by the ant species Acanthomycops claviger, correlations between this
species and the above factors were determined. In the following study, there appeared to be
a strong positive correlation between distance from nest sites and increasing soil moisture.
A more homogeneous macroinvertebrate community within nests was also suggested by
cluster analysis. The noticeable effects of A. claviger nesting behaviors upon
macroinvertebrate populations points to new ways of viewing tallgrass prairie restoration.
These include hypothesis concerning entire system transplants and ecosystem seeding
methods.
Introduction
The tallgrass prairie ecosystem of North America’s eastern and central Great Plains
and adjacent lowlands is virtually nonexistent and anthropomorphic alteration of this
system type has reduced its total area to less than one percent of its geographical extent of a
century ago (Madson and Oberle 1993, Knapp et al. 1998). Recently, greater scientific
awareness of this highly diverse and complex system has motivated restoration and
preservation efforts, mostly on a small or experimental scale (Knapp et al. 1998, Tilman
1988). As these efforts continue to grow in number and size, our understanding of the
delicacy, intricacy, and geographical reach of these communities increase in scale. It has
become widely accepted that certain inorganic contributors, such as fire, contribute within
these systems as significantly as twenty million bison once did (Loreau 2000, Odum 1969,
Hayes and Seastedt 1989), but exploration into the microcommunities and climates which
combine to perpetuate and mature these greater systems has just begun. Significant among
these is the community of macroinvertebrates which inhabit and this ecosystem.
The immense variety of survival strategies employed by this array of organisms is
integral to the functioning and progression of a tallgrass-type system (Tilman 1988, Benizri
and Amiaud 2005, Collins 2000). Soil building, nutrient cycling, and decomposition are but
several of the integral, vital functions performed by these organism types (Dugas et al.
1997, Foster and Gross 1998, ). The shear number of these organisms, in terms of biomass
and diversity makes them obvious areas of study. Among these, perhaps the most visually
95
conspicuous in the prairie landscape are certain genera of ants.
There are more than 150 recorded species of ants from the tallgrass prairie. Among
these, Acanthomycops claviger may be located by its prominent mound building activity at
the base of certain species of tall grasses. Subterranean ant activity has been noted as
correlating significantly with nutrient flow and system progression/diversity in varied
ecosystems (Grahammer et al. 1998, Hayes and Seastedt 1989, McNaughton and Wolf
1970, Woodcock et al. 2005), however this behavior’s significance to the organization of
the tallgrass-type system is virtually unexplored.
Ecosystem restoration efforts can be hampered significantly due to the lack of
keystone species which allow for progression of these systems towards a sustainable
biogeographical unit (Woodcock et al. 2005, Ulanowicz 1980). The many symbiotic and
subsystem relationships between organisms of the tallgrass prairie systems make the
understanding of these subtle interactions foremost in any restoration or re-creation effort
(Knapp et al. 1998). The lack of significant undisturbed system types for study lends even
more significance to this understanding, as there is no “model” from which to pattern these
efforts (Madson and Oberle 1993, Smith and Knapp 2003). Through statistical analysis of
macroinvertebrate populations and soil conditions and their proximity to mounds excavated
by A. claviceps, significance if any, of this species in terms of restoration efforts may
begin to be determined.
Methods
The study site was the Russell R. Kirt Prairie, a 7.1 ha re-created tallgrass prairie
located on the campus of College of DuPage, Illinois (41° 45’ 00” N, 88° 00’ 00” W). The
site was farmed prior to 1965, left fallow until 1975, and then turned into a temporary
parking lot with the addition of about 20cm depth of gravel (Kirt 1996). Through the next
twenty years additions to the site included clay and black organic top soils, culminating in a
restoration effort including 150 species of seeded and transplanted forbs and graminoids
(Kirt 1996). Common grasses in the plot include big bluestem (Andropogon gerardi
Vitman) and prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis Gray). To encourage natural
reproduction, periodic burnings have been performed since 1987.
Sampling began in late April, 2005. Nests were located at random and 18 sites were
sampled. Soil temperature, soil saturation (water), and soil pH, were measured at nest
mound sites and distances of one meter and four meters away from nest mound sites of A.
claviger. A Kelway pH probe (Kelway Instrument Co., Japan) was used to measure soil pH
at 5 cm depth and an Aquaterr Temp-200 probe (Aquaterr Instruments, Costa Mesa, CA)
was used to measure soil saturation (%) and soil temp at 10cm depth. A 1 liter sample was
collected from each site and used to extract macroinvertibrates using a Tullgren Funnel.
Wilcoxon Matched Pairs tests were used to compare means among the physical
measurements and Shannon indices between nest sites of A. claviger and those sites
removed. Significance was determined where P ! 0.05. Cluster analysis using Euclidian
distances was used to visually compare similarities in macroinvertebrate assemblages
among sites. The a priori expectation is that if colonies of A. claviger do affect the
assemblages of macroinvertebrates within the recreated plot, then the macroinvertebrate
assemblages would be most similar within the nests of the ant.
96
Results
A list of macroinvertebrates inventoried from the study sites is available on request.
Counts of macroinvertebrates revealed no statistically significant differences in the
diversity of these organisms between the nest and non-nest sites (Table 1). Cluster analysis
suggested close similarity between the types of macroinvertebrate species found at the nest
sites, while the non-nest sites shows what appears to be a more significant diversity
between the organisms found at 1m and 4m locations (Figure 1).
Chemical measurements are summarized in Table 1. Mean soil saturation appeared
to be different between the nest and non-nest sites (Table 2).
Discussion
The study poses the question, among others, of if and how ant species, such as A.
Claviceps, can influence soil conditions in re-created tallgrass prairie ecosystems. Direct
measurement and analysis appears to show a significant correlation between moisture
content of soil and the proximity to nest sites. This may be due to nesting activity, but the
exact nature of the relationship remains unclear, and is perhaps a line of future study. The
significantly lower soil moisture at the nest sites is something that may almost be expected.
Recent weather trends, evapotranspiration, and the protective mat which is a maturing
prairie are several factors which would contribute to this situation. The endemic grasses are
also tolerant of extremes, including lack of water, employing this trait as a cornerstone of
their survival strategies (Christian and Wilson 1999, Collins 2000, Foster and Gross 1998).
It does appear however, that in some way the ants and or their nesting activities are
contributing.
The communities of macroinvertebrates living in and around the soil of the actual
nests show a distinct similarity when compared with that of 1m and 4m distant. The species
counts at the nest sites appear more evenly dispersed in terms of species domination.
Prairie energy systems are complex symbiosis with, sometimes, many vital participants
(Dugas et al. 1997, Foster and Gross 1998, James 1992, Knapp et al. 1998). A number of
flora species were unsuccessfully introduced to the study site during its initial formation
and subsequent management (Kirt 1996). Several of these failures may now be attributed to
a lack of the complete microcommunity necessary for the success of the more conspicuous
plant species (Loreau 2000, Smith and Knapp 2003). In many of these mutualisms, ants and
their byproducts are critical to the continued success of certain plant species (Knapp et al.
1998, Smith and Knapp 2003, Tilman 1988).
Findings here indicate the need to consider a multitrophic food web approach to
restoration of mesic tallgrass prairie. Species and population failure are rather common in
re-creations of this type and this may be expected due to the lack of micro and macro, floral
and faunal systems required for their continued success (Knapp et al. 1998, Ulanowicz
1980, Bischoff 2005).
97
Works Cited
Benizri, E., and B. Amiaud. 2005. Relationship between plants and soil microbial
communities in fertilized grasslands. Soil Biology and Biochemistry 76:571-582.
Bischoff, A. 2005. Analysis of weed dispersal to predict chances of recolonization.
Agriculture, Ecosystems and Environment 106:377-387.
Christian, J. M., and S. D. Wilson. 1999. Long term impacts of an introduced grass in the
northern Great Plains. Ecology 80:2397-2407.
Collins, S. L. 2000. Disturbance frequency and community stability in native tallgrass
prairie. American Naturalist 15:311-325.
Dugas, W. A., D. C. Reicoskyb, and J. R. Kiniryc. 1997. Chamber and
micrometeorological measurements of carbon dioxide and Water fluxes for three
C4 grasses. Agricultural and Forest Meteorology 83:113-133.
Foster, B. L., and K. L. Gross. 1998. Species richness in successional grassland: effects
of nitrogen enrichment and plant litter. Ecology 79:2593-2602
Grahammer, K., M. D. Jawson and J. Skopp. 1991. Day and night soil respiration from a
grassland. Soil Biology and Biochemistry 56:433-451.
Hayes, D. C., and T. R. Seastedt. 1989. Nitrogen dynamics of soil water in burned and
unburned tallgrass prairie. Soil Biology and Biochemistry 21:1003-1007.
James, S. W. 1992. Localized dynamics of earthworm populations in relation to bison
dung in North American tallgrass prairie. Soil Biology and Biochemistry 24:14711476.
Kirt, R. R. 1996. A nine-year assessment of successional trends in prairie plantings using
broadcast and seedling transplant methods , p. 144-153. In: C. Warwick (ed.).
Fifteenth North American Prairie Conference, The Natural Areas Association, Bend
OR.
Knapp, A. K., J. M. Briggs, D. C. Hartnett, and S. L. Collins. 1998. Grassland Dynamics:
long-term ecological research in tallgrass prairie. Oxford University Press, New
York, NY.
Loreau, M. 2000. Biodiversity and ecosystem functioning: recent theoretical advances.
Oikos 91:3–17.
Madson, J., and F. Oberle. 1993. Tallgrass Prairie. Falcon Press, Helena, MT.
McNaughton, S. J., and L. L. Wolf. 1970. Dominance and the niche in ecological systems.
Science 167:131-139.
Odum, E. P. 1969. The strategy of ecosystem development. Science 164:262–270.
Smith, M. D., and A. K. Knapp. 2003. Dominant species maintain ecosystem function with
nonrandom species loss. Ecology Letters 6:509-517.
Tilman, D. 1988. Plant strategies and the dynamics and structure of plant communities.
Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ.
98
Ulanowicz, R. E. 1980. An hypothesis on the development of natural communities.
Biology 85:223–245.
Woodcock, B. A., D.B. Westbury, S.G. Potts, S.J. Harris and V.K. Brown. 2005.
Establishing field margins to promote beetle conservation in arable farms.
Agriculture, Ecosystems & Environment 107:255-266.
99
Table 1: Comparison of mean and standard deviation (All N = 6) of soil conditions and
calculated Shannon-Weiner Diversity Index of nest and non-nest sites.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Nest site
1m from nest site
4m from nest site
__________________________________________________________________________________
Soil Temperature (°C)
21.0 (± 5.3)
20.2 (± 4.5)
21.1 (± 4.9)
Soil Saturation (%)
77.5 (± 6.0)
80.7 (± 7.8)
85.0 (± 12.3)
Soil pH
5.0 (± 0.9)
5.0 (± 0.8)
5.2 (± 1.0)
Shannon Diversity
1.56 (± 0.41)
1.29 (± 0.58)
1.40 (± 0.20)
__________________________________________________________________________________
Table 2: Wilcoxon Matched Pair comparisons between nest sites of Acanthomyops
claviger and sites removed from nests.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Comparison to nest
z
p
__________________________________________________________________________________
1m soil temperature
1.10
0.27
4m soil temperature
0.40
0.69
1m soil saturation
2.02
0.04
4m soil saturation
1.57
0.12
1m soil pH
0.73
0.47
4m soil pH
1.83
0.07
1m soil diversity
0.73
0.46
4m soil diversity
0.94
0.35
__________________________________________________________________________________
100
Figure 1. Cluster diagram for individual study sites (single-linkage Euclidean distances). Symbols:
a=nest site, b=1m from nest site, and c=4m from nest site.
101
102
Grayscale Chessboard
by Jason Nosek
(Honors English 154, Speech 120)
The Assignment: Select a novel that has a film version. Compare and contrast
the novel to its cinematic counterpart.
I
n chess, opponents attempt to whittle down each other’s pieces until they can achieve victory.
Yet neither side is evil, they are merely two powers using all means and moves necessary to
win. They are playing this game and making these moves because they believe that they are
better and furthermore, wiser than each other. Kurt Vonnegut brilliantly carved faces onto these
chess pieces in his novel Mother Night. Visages slightly mottled, these pieces make their way
onto celluloid in Gordon’s film version of this novel. While the film is certainly different than
the novel, this faithful adaptation retains the themes and central question of the original work.
Events and objects are added, characters and their actions are slightly altered, some of
Vonnegut’s ideas are removed though the main themes stay; yet as a whole, the film is a success.
The most obvious of all of the changes made, was the adding of several objects and
sequences. Surprisingly, most are relevant additions; only one change truly altered the
characters. Very few films work well with added scenes, so it is quite amazing that the scenes
added in “Mother Night” not only worked well, but added true depth to the film as well as
offering more for the audience to ponder. An effective and offsetting scene is near the end of the
film, where the protagonist Campbell somewhat unintentionally walks into a room in which old
broadcasts of himself (as a Nazi) are being screened. In the novel, Campbell was a radio
personality who preached and prophesized about the evil of Jews. During this scene of the film
however, Campbell was doing a television broadcast. Flickering images of the young Campbell
spewing Anti-Semitic hate were projected upon a much older and disillusioned Campbell. The
effect is as shocking for the audience as it seems to be for Campbell. This raises the question
central to the work, which is: even if Campbell did this for the “right” reason, to further the
American cause, is it morally right? This one of the most powerful moments in the film and was
entirely the director’s creation. Soon after that scene passes, another addition is made.
Campbell’s friend Kraft, who is a Russian spy, says that their actions are not who they are, but
what is going on around them. This furthers the aforementioned chess theme as well as the
central question about responsibility. The men are pawns, manipulated by their respective
countries, rather than their own beliefs. This addition supports Vonnegut’s theme, and thus
benefits the film. Conversely, there are additions that hinder the film and limit the depth of the
characters. The most offensive is the love between Resi (Campbell’s wife’s sister) and the
antihero Campbell. The most superfluous scene is when the two are lying in bed, and Campbell
tells his new interest “I’m going to write again.” This line mutes the pain and emptiness that
Campbell still retains from the war and the loss of his wife, Helga. More importantly though,
this line makes the protagonist two-dimensional, in that his cavernous soul can be easily filled by
a woman. This is an attempt at a sub-plot that ultimately fails.
103
The most symbolic and significant addition to the film is the last. In both the prose and
film, Campbell extinguishes his faltering flame by hanging himself in prison. About this,
Vonnegut is nondescript. Gordon on the contrary, inserts a valid symbol into this otherwise
simple scene. When Campbell hangs himself, he does it with nothing other than his very own
ink ribbon. The hanging itself is undoubtedly the most powerful moment in both mediums of
film and novel. It is enhanced in film by the idea that he wrote his broadcasts on a typewriter,
using ink to express thoughts that may, in essence, have resulted in the deaths of thousands,
possibly millions of Jews.
Though none of the characters are changed entirely, some of their thoughts and motives
have been altered. Resi is the character most changed, her actions in the film all seem to be
guided by said sub-plot, love. In the film Gordon has Resi poisoning herself when Campbell
deprives her of his undying love. Thus, her suicide is much more of a romantic notion. In the
novel, Resi is surrounded by the American agents who are about to send her back to Russia,
which would mean death (166). Also, in the novel she did not lead on that if Campbell did not
confess his eternal love, then she would commit suicide. With these elements added, the text
character Resi seems much more pragmatic than her romantic filmic counterpart. An unseen
character is also altered; that character is Adolf Eichmann. Campbell wrote, “I offer my opinion
that Eichmann cannot distinguish between right and wrong- that not only right and wrong, but
truth and falsehood, hope and despair…are all processed like birdshot through a bugle”(123-24).
Campbell goes on to write that Eichmann made a joke about the six million Jews he
“murdered”(125). The film makes Eichmann’s comment not a joke at all, but rather something
for Campbell to ponder. This seemingly small alteration actually has a grand effect on the
situation altogether. The presence of Eichmann is not coincidental or comic. Eichmann is a foil
of Campbell, because Campbell does know the difference between right and wrong. To make
both men of sound mind misleads the audience into believing that all men are the same, and all
should be punished equally. Changing these characters definitely detracted from the work as a
whole.
Another change made in adapting this novel to film was the removal of many of
Vonnegut’s personal ideas and reoccurring themes. Granted, these do not detract from the story
arc or any of the characters, but some of the color is lost. Throughout Vonnegut’s body of work,
there are many reoccurring themes; one of these is his objection for devoting one’s self wholly to
a political or religious belief. This is present in the film through Campbell’s actions and
thoughts, but many key lines pertaining to this, which would reveal Vonnegut’s beliefs, are not
in the film. In the novel, Campbell says, “I had hoped as a broadcaster, to be merely ludicrous,
but this is a hard world to be ludicrous in, with so many human beings so reluctant to laugh, so
incapable of thought, so eager to believe and snarl and hate. So many people wanted to believe
me! Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith, I consider a capacity of it
terrifying and absolutely vile”(120). While the film as a whole does allude to this theme, some
of its power, and Vonnegut’s conviction is lost by removing key lines like this one. Another
theme found in much of Vonnegut’s work, which is brought up in the film but not fully explored
is his fear of conformity and socialism/communism. In the novel, when talking about Campbell’s
literature, he is told a Soviet plagiarized his work. The conversation that ensues speaks volumes
about Vonnegut:
104
“”I’m glad about Bodovskov,” [Campbell] said. “I’m glad somebody got
to live like an artist with what I once had. You said he got arrested and
tried?”
“And shot,” said Wirtanen
“For plagiarism?” I said.
“For originality,” said Wirtanen.
“Plagiarism is the silliest of
misdemeanors. What harm is there in writing what’s already been
written? Real originality is a capital crime, often calling for cruel and
unusual punishment….”(151)
This is a sub-plot, which is not brought up in the film likely for the sake of running time. This
does not affect the story as a whole, and because the film is a separate entity, the choice is
legitimate, just a letdown for fans of Vonnegut.
Despite the loss of sub-plots and their themes, the key themes of the story-arc of the
novel are translated to the film well. One of these is the central question of the work; has
Campbell truly been committing these crimes, these murders, even if his heart was not in it? The
novel brings about a grey area, questioning morality and posing this question about truth and
guilt. On a side note, filming Campbell and the war criminal prison in black and white enhances
this question, subjecting the viewer to visual shades of gray. There is not one particular area
where this film falters or directly addresses this question, and the subtlety in asking this question
is a success. Another key theme and motif that is well represented in the film is the chessboard.
Slight changes were made in the dialogue and pacing, but it does not affect the theme as a whole.
Campbell makes a chess set and he and Kraft play constantly. The irony here, of course is that
they are not playing, they are merely pawns in a much larger, global or perhaps even cosmic
game of chess. They are both spies controlled by their respective governments, and are forced to
make certain moves. As the movie progresses, more pieces emerge, Resi is a pawn, Wirtanen is
a higher piece, but still he does not completely control his fate. Perhaps the characters that are
playing them are not exactly playing either. Ultimately, Vonnegut is playing the game and in
doing so, he is addressing government control and ideas of fate. The pawn is part of the chess
motif that is brought up later in the film as well. In the novel, Campbell fumbles in his pocket
and thinks about what is in it. “It was the pawn from the chess set…”(183). So once again, this
motif is brought about and the reader is prodded to think about how Campbell himself is a pawn.
This theme is masterfully conveyed in both mediums, and in that regard, the film is a success.
This faithful adaptation of Mother Night does work, and Gordon makes it work well. He
managed to keep the story nearly whole and characters relatively the same. Perhaps the best
thing he did was add his own flair to the film. The film projected on Campbell, the ink ribbon,
the black and white scenes, etc, these things all add depth to the film and visually challenge the
viewer to ponder questions of morality, guilt, and ethics. Despite removing a few sub-plots and
some very good dialogue, the film is still effective in posing questions and playing on dark
humor. Gordon achieves this by adding his style and removing the unnecessary material. The
film is a success because of this balance.
105
Works Cited
Mother Night. Dir. Keith Gordon. With Nick Nolte, Sheryl Lee, Alan Arkin, and Kirsten Dunst.
Fine Line Features, 1996.
Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. Mother Night. New York: Laurel, 1966.
106
Gender Role Behaviors and Attitudes in Hedwig and the Angry Inch
by Richard Payton
(Honors English 154, Speech 120)
The Assignment: Read Holly Devon’s “Gender Role Behaviors and Attitudes.”
Write a paper discussing how the issue of gender was treated in a film of your
choice.
A
ccording to Holly Devor’s essay “Gender Role Behaviors and Attitudes,” the concept of
“gender” as a means of identification has no real basis in “sex characteristics” (284) – or
“biological makeup” – but is, rather, a socially-created construct, superimposed on
individuals based on “feminine” or “masculine” attributes. Roles and expectations for an
individual in society, then, are largely determined by which “gender” he or she has been
attributed. If society is to be believed, according to Devor, an individual must be either male or
female. Devor draws a distinction between “masculinity” and “male,” and between “femininity”
and “female,” putting them into a relationship of signifier/signified. Attributes of masculinity
are generally associated with maleness in society, and femininity with femaleness (285).
However, as Devor is careful to point out, these attributes are not biologically innate to the
specific genders, but, rather, are shared by persons across the board, and only arbitrarily grouped
into “clusters of social definition” (284) for hierarchical categorization. These views are adopted
by John Cameron Mitchell in his film Hedwig and the Angry Inch, which explores and elaborates
upon Devor’s theoretical concepts in a more concrete and immediate human sphere.
The protagonist of the film – Hedwig Robinson – lacks the physical characteristics by
which we are accustomed to assign gender. However, as Devor points out, these bodily aspects
are “largely covered by clothing in daily life” anyway, and so gender is often recognized “more
on the basis of [masculine or feminine] characteristics” (284). Mitchell, therefore, by removing
the overt and physical signifiers for gender categorization, throws us immediately into a context
in which we must address gender in terms of Devor’s theories – that is, as based on behavior.
The filmmakers clearly did not set out to make this an easy task for an audience
accustomed, even in this day and age, to certain set notions of gender and sexuality. At this point
in time, we as a society have become fairly used to – if not necessarily accepting, or even
tolerant, of – particular ideas of sexuality as a spectrum ranging from “straight” to “gay” with
maybe one or two points in between. However, even in this context we have little problem with
gender identification: we think of the stereotypical gay male as being an “effeminate male,” or
the stereotypical lesbian female as being a “masculine female.” Devor, however, argues that, by
attributing these categorical gendered aspects onto non-gendered individuals (that is to say,
anybody, as gender is not innate biologically), we are in fact essentially determining their
gender, most likely on a subconscious level, and thus setting up certain societal expectations on
which to base judgment of their actions. Thus, while we may think of a man as “effeminate” or a
woman as “masculine,” what we are really doing is thinking of them as “female” and “male,”
respectively.
Hedwig illustrates this idea very nicely. For example, for most of the film, she is referred
107
to as “she.” However, as we find out fairly quickly, she lacks the specific biological parts which
we generally associate with a “she.” But, again, lacking also are those parts which would
classify her as a “he.” And so our system is thrown out of whack: we can no longer say, “ah, X
is just an effeminate male” or “just a masculine female,” because we’re left only with the
attributes – that is, with the signifiers of gender, but without any accustomed signified. The film
shows us, though, how facile we are at superimposing the constructs with which we’ve been
raised – it forces us to, really. All throughout, Hedwig is constantly reminding us that she’s
something we’ve never really encountered before (or, at least, not very often), as far as sex
characteristics are concerned; yet, because of her gendered attributes, which are largely feminine
– a “feminine” manner of dress and appearance (e.g. hairstyle), a higher vocal range, etc. – we
continue to think of her as a female. Mitchell, of course, catches us in the blatant act, and turns
the tables completely: during the final scene (“Midnight Radio”), Hedwig, for the most part
female in our minds up to this point, is “transformed” into an entity which all of the sudden
forces us to change our take on the matter (“Is she a male now? Wait, was ‘she’ ever female? …
ohhh … ). Not only this, but, as if to drive the point even further home, Hedwig’s husband
Yitzhak, actually played by a woman, a character we’ve been thinking of in terms of “effeminate
male,” transforms completely into a very effeminate female. This scene, while confusing at first,
proves to be very rewarding when analyzed in terms of gender and identity theory. If considered
carefully, it becomes clear that Mitchell is giving us a hint, pushing us subtly in the direction he
wants, and, finally, while we may not have solved the riddle of gender and identity, while we
may not have the answers, we have at least been shown the riddle – and, as Heidegger says, “the
task is to see the riddle” (79).
Perhaps the most important function of Hedwig, though, is to help us understand the
concept of the gender-construct, see it for what it is, and then transcend it. While Hedwig and
the Angry Inch is a film about many things, at its core it is a film about existential transcendence
through love, and if we fail to see and understand this then we have missed something beautiful
and wonderful that the work wants to give for free to all comers.
Hedwig, after all, is in reality preoccupied with one thing and one thing only – and it’s
not gender, her past, or her music, prominent as these things are throughout the film. We
couldn’t blame her, of course, if it were any of these – after all, who has more right to be
preoccupied with gender than Hedwig? But what really obsesses Hedwig, and has for her entire
life, is love, and the search for love.
The film’s concept of love is predicated on the theory put forward by Aristophanes in
Plato’s Symposium, and introduced into the action of the film by the musical number “The Origin
of Love,” accompanied by a wonderful animated sequence. In this theory, humanity began as
connected pairs, which were subsequently split in two by the gods in order to reduce the power
of humans, and it was out of this breaking that love sprang – essentially a longing for the lost
other half.
For Hedwig, this is the driving force of existence. In aligning herself metaphorically with
the Berlin Wall, she introduces this idea from the get-go, and carries it throughout, as we watch
her attempts to reunite and complete her identity both in her past and her present. It becomes
clear, through the action and through Hedwig’s songs, that she considers a complete
reunification of self to be an existentially hopeless quest – after all, humanity was split by the
gods; we are born scarred. For Hedwig, the purpose of love is to help ease the pain of isolation,
not to mend it, and any sort of whole identity we can construct for ourselves will have to be by
ourselves, not through another individual. This is conveyed powerfully by the very last shot,
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which shows a naked Hedwig-entity staggering alone down a bleak night-lit alley as the camera
cranes up to an ever-increasing high-angle shot. This emphasizes the human isolation conveyed
by the film, but we also keep in mind the animation sequence we have just seen, in which two
faces merge into one, which in turn merges into a tattoo of the same on Hedwig’s upper leg,
suggesting that there is, ultimately, both hope in the self and help from others. For all its
trappings, for all its discussion of issues and constructs, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, in the end,
is a film about awareness, about seeing the riddle – of society, of the self, of love, of everything
– and, finally, transcending.
Works Cited
Devor, Holly. “Gender Role Behaviors and Attitudes.” Signs of Life in the USA: Readings on
Popular Culture for Writers. 4th ed. Ed. Sonia Maasic and Jack Solomon. Boston:
Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2003. 484-489.
Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Dir. John Cameron Mitchell. Perf. John Cameron Mitchell, Michael
Pitt, Miriam Shor. New Line Cinema, 2001.
Heidegger, Martin. Poetry, Language, Thought. Tr. Albert Hofstadter. New York: Harper
Colophon, 1975.
Plato. “Symposium.” Great Dialogues of Plato. Tr. W. H. D. Rouse. New York: Signet, 1956.
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Cinematizing the Great American Novel
by Megan Posch
(English 154)
The Assignment: Compare and contrast a novel or short story collections to its
screen translation.
L
iterature critic James Dickey hailed F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby as “an
American masterpiece” and his judgment is validated by the novel’s ability to withstand
the test of time. Today, more copies are sold annually than all the versions published
within Fitzgerald’s lifetime combined. Although the incidents are set during the “roaring
twenties,” the story and the eloquence of the narration have captured readers for decades.
Considering the novel’s popularity, it is unsurprising that film versions eventually followed. The
task taken on by these films was greater than that of a screenplay written solely for the purpose
of film. By choosing a piece of classical literature, you are obligated to stay true to a story that
many people are very familiar with. A celebrated novel like The Great Gatsby cannot simply be
repeated or regurgitated into a film. There is a responsibility taken on by those who make this
type of film to capture the essence of the story and characters loved by many. This is why I
believe that cinematizing the great American novel may be a task even more difficult than usual
movie making. There are many films taken from literature that stray completely from the original
written composition. Most of the time we just shrug it off and say “that’s Hollywood.” But for
some reason that is harder to do when the novel is considered a classic. Great works in American
literature are hard to replicate in another form of media because people have their own
perceptions and feelings associated with such works. However, in some cases, the final result
embodies what made the original work unique and treasured. The 1974 film version of The Great
Gatsby is an example of a film that does not strive to change the experience of the novel, but
instead bottles all the critical elements of the story and provides us with a visual version of an
“American masterpiece.”
The Great Gatsby could easily be one of my favorite books and when I encountered the
film I was really not interested in seeing it. To me, the book was so special that I did not want to
change the images that Fitzgerald had created for me and replace them with another person’s
artistic vision. The 1974 film version of the novel was directed by Jack Clayton and followed a
screenplay adapted by Francis Ford Coppola. To my surprise this film did not disappoint me in
the way that I had anticipated. My biggest hope for the film was that the dialogue would be
followed because Fitzgerald’s use of language is what I think makes the story so memorable. He
had a way of revealing so much about his characters through both the way they spoke and what
they said to one another. The conversations were more than just words. Often, they carried a tone
regarding the speaker’s relationship to his or her fellow characters. For example, in the novel
Daisy and Tom have Nick over for dinner one summer evening. All those that are present are
chatting in a distracted, casual matter until Tom decides to bring up his views on race and a book
he is currently reading. The way in which he speaks leads you to notice that he is not intelligent
himself but simply a pseudo intellect. He has read a book and has now decided to assert his
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opinion on the matter. Daisy begins to speak at this time and is cut off each time by Tom
(Fitzgerald 13-20). This interaction is Fitzgerald’s way of establishing Tom’s dominating and
disrespectful relationship with his wife. Interactions that reveal just as much are scattered
throughout the novel and are replicated word for word within the film.
Nick Carraway begins the film with a narration taken directly from the text of the novel.
The film introduces his character to you with a voiceover and a view of him piloting his small
boat across the bay to Daisy and Tom’s home. Both Fitzgerald’s written work and the film open
with Nick voicing the advice given to him by his father when he was younger. More direct
narration of this kind continues throughout the film.
In Chapter Two of the book, Nick ends up accompanying Tom on an impromptu visit to
the city with his mistress. Tom refers to her as “his girl” and you are given the feeling in both
works that the whole idea of the affair excites him (Fitzgerald 28). To me, this is one of the best
chapters in the book. Fitzgerald writes it in a way that is completely unpredictable, giving you
details that seem arbitrary but end up being the only things that you really need to know about
what is occurring. The day that Nick spends in the apartment downtown with Tom, his mistress
and an assortment of others was portrayed exactly as I imagined while reading. The whole scene
had an absurdity to it and the way everyone put on a charade for one another was a theme that
resonated in the film and in the novel. Despite being out of sequence, the film did an excellent
job of replicating the mood and atmosphere created by Fitzgerald.
The film also made you feel like the characters you imagined have come to life.
Fitzgerald did a wonderful job of creating characters that reflected pieces of people you knew but
were also nothing like anyone you would ever meet. I think that Mia Farrow really captured
Daisy’s essence. Fitzgerald wrote her in a way that seemed so fragile and yet full of emotion in a
way that makes her also seem strong. Farrow spoke and interacted with her costars in a way that
seemed uniquely like the Daisy alive in the pages of the book. Tom was exactly as the novel
described him both, physically and in attitude. He came across as powerful, selfish and
completely “careless.” Jordan Baker was the only character that disappointed me because
Fitzgerald wrote that she was “jaunty” and to me that seemed like an unattractive quality
(Fitzgerald 185). The film gave a very different grasp of Jordan’s character. She was physically
attractive and not the jarring woman described in the novel. However, this could simply be my
personal interpretation and not a deliberate attempt by the director to create more romance
between Jordan and Nick than was intended by the author.
As a novel, The Great Gatsby is considered wonderful for not only because of the
dialogue and character development but also because of Fitzgerald’s use of symbolism. The ever
watchful eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg were referenced several times throughout the novel. His
large eyes, all that was left on the old billboard advertising his services, served as a reminder of
the forces watching over the “valley of ashes” that is our life. The doctor’s eyes were
emphasized in the film and were shown at various critical moments, hinting at the idea that the
plot was about to twist. Another symbol used in the film but not present in the book were images
of birds. Birds are shown between various scenes in the film and were used to foreshadow the
action that was to come. For example, after Daisy and Gatsby connect after many years apart, we
leave them in Nick’s home and the film cuts to a shot of a male and female robin eating seed
together. To me, this was a “cheesy” way of foreshadowing their future together. Later on, Nick
has a conversation with Gatsby on his pier. This scene is also present in the novel but what is not
included is the image of a dead seagull washed up against the rocks. Again, a bird image was
used to foreshadow events to come. Gatsby, like the bird, ends up dead and floating in his own
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beautiful pool. Fitzgerald, however, did not use images like these. Instead, he had Nick make a
statement about Gatsby’s lights not going on one Saturday night and the reader is meant to know
that Gatsby may not be around in the future (Fitzgerald 155).
All filmmakers begin a project hoping to create something that people will remember.
Even harder than that is creating something new, in another form, from something that people
already treasure in its original state. A novel like The Great Gatsby will continue to be
appreciated and revered for years to come and the film version took on a task that could have
ended in complete failure. Instead, it stayed true to the work that it was based on and did the very
best possible job of creating a new masterpiece without defacing the old. Although some creative
liberties were taken, and the film did not follow the exact sequence laid out in the novel, all in
all, I am content with the film version of one of my favorite stories. To me, this film is an
amazing achievement because making a successful film is hard enough on its own and even
more difficult when people expect to get the same feeling from a movie as they did from a great
piece of literature.
Works Cited
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. New York: Scribner Paperback Fiction, 1995.
The Great Gatsby. Dir. Jack Clayton. 1974. DVD. Paramount Home Entertainment, 2004.
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When Hatred Controls a Nation
by Nadia Qazi
(English 103)
The Assignment: Write an appropriately documented argument essay, 4-6 pages
long, which makes use of at least four scholarly sources.
Song of Those Who Died in Vain
Sit down and bargain
All you like, grizzled old foxes.
We’ll wall you up in a splendid palace
With food, wine, good beds and a good fire
Provided that you discuss, negotiate
For our and your children’s lives.
May all the wisdom of the universe
Converge to bless your minds
And guide you in the maze.
But outside in the cold we will be waiting for you,
The army of those who died in vain,
We of Marne, of Montecassino,
Treblinka, Dresden and Hiroshima.
And with us will be
The leprous and the people with trachoma,
The Disappeared Ones of Buenos Aires,
Dead Cambodians and dying Ethiopians,
The Prague negotiators,
The bled-dry of Calcutta,
The innocents slaughtered in Bologna.
Heaven help you if you come out disagreeing:
You’ll be clutched tight in our embrace.
We are invincible because we are the conquered,
Invulnerable because already dead;
We laugh at your missiles.
Sit down and bargain
Until your tongues are dry.
If the havoc and shame continue
We’ll drown you in our putrefaction.
-Primo Levi, 14 January 1985
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O
n Saturday, February 12, 1993, the Markale Market in Sarajevo was jammed with
weekend shoppers. Silently and without warning, a 120 mm mortar shell sailed into the
crowd, hitting a table in the open-air market. It exploded with a ferocious blast, tearing
heads and limbs from bodies and scattering arcs of blood for yards around. Some corpses were
so dismembered that they couldn’t be identified as men or women. The marketplace shook with
the shrieks of the injured and the sirens of police cars and ambulances. As the hours passed, the
harsh, grating sound of bodies being dragged across the broken glass could be heard by the world
as it watched in grim horror at this latest atrocity of the Serbians. On that fateful day, 66
innocent civilians died in the attack, while more than 200 were wounded. The market massacre
was the goriest spectacle in 22 months of fighting in Bosnia, but it was not the only violent act in
the genocide launched by the Serbians. The former Yugoslavia has been devastated by the
barbaric practices of mass rape, murder, torture, and forced detention. Despite the horrors of
“ethnic cleansing,” the United States displayed shameful passivity and indifference to the
bloodletting in Bosnia.
Unfortunately, Bosnia is not the only example of genocide. Perhaps the most famous is
the Holocaust, but there were others-Cambodia, Mayan, and Rwanda are some examples. The
most disheartening thing about genocide is that it can be stopped, but few people choose to stop
it. Once we learn to recognize the warning signs of genocide, we can launch campaigns aimed
towards removing hatred between groups. Individuals in a society must be acquainted with the
preconditions of genocide in order to stop it before it occurs. The dehumanization of a group of
individuals, the launching of false propaganda, the presence of mob mentality, growing
resentment and hatred against a group, feelings of revenge, the idea of a threat, and feelings of
impunity are all warning signs and precipitating causes of genocide. This can best be countered
and prevented with the establishment of justice, human rights, and peaceful resolutions of
conflicts. A spirit of reconciliation, harmony, compassion and benevolence also goes a long way
in settling disputes and grievances. After all, as Gandhi once said, “An eye for an eye leaves the
whole world blind.”
“There are no devils left in Hell. They are all in Rwanda.” Thus said a Roman Catholic
Missionary as quoted in Time in its May, 1994, issue. Hatred, cold calculated merciless hatred,
led to the monumental and murderous rampage that was Rwanda in 1994-1995. This genocide
was the bloodiest in the recorded history of Africa and was more ruthlessly efficient than the gas
chambers in Nazi Germany. Up to a million people were butchered in the first month of
mayhem and bloodletting. Many were murdered eyeball to eyeball by “friends and neighbors”
simply because of tribal distinction marked upon their identity cards. The toll of the massacre of
Muslims in Bosnia was more than two hundred thousand, but it was over a four year period. The
genocide of six million European Jews occurred over many years in the 1930s and 40s.
However, the daily kill rate in Rwanda was five times that of the Nazi death camps and
“averaged well more than eleven thousand five hundred, with surges of daily murder rates as
high as forty-five thousand” (Peterson 253). This was the tragic culmination of years of
planning, organization, and plotting. The Hutus were “programmed to kill” (252).
The hatred between the Hutu and Tutsi dated back to at least the 19th century, even
though both tribes spoke the same language and had the same religion and had lived peacefully
together for centuries. The Hutus were farmers while the Tutsi raised livestock. “Tutsi” came to
mean rich, while Hutu, or “servant,” meant someone with less than ten cows. Interestingly, the
Hutus could become Tutsis in a special ceremony if they became wealthy enough. Similarly, the
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Tutsis can fall into a Hutu lifestyle. The Germans and then, the Belgian colonialists and
missionaries reinforced and exploited this division between the two tribes and called the Tutsis
inherently superior and “ordained to lead by God” (Peterson 258). In his landmark work
entitled, Me Against My Brother, Scott Peterson writes of an old traveler’s book written in 1910
by Duke Adolphus Frederick of Mecklenberg during a tour of Imperial Germany’s African
colonies. He said,
The Watutsi are a tall, well-made people with an almost ideal physique… [Hutus
are the] primitive inhabitants. They are a medium-sized type of people, whose
ungainly figures betoken hard toil, and who patiently bow themselves in abject
bondage to the later arrived yet ruling race, the Watutsi. (258)
In another account, other observers described how the missionaries saw the Tutsis as “Hamitic
Semites” or “African Jews.” The Hutus were described by a Belgian doctor as having a
“brachycephalous skull” and as being “childish in nature, both timid and lazy, and as often as
not, extremely dirty. They form the serf class” (259).
The Tutsis were systematically favored by the Belgians, and the Hutus were largely
denied education and political power. The Hutu opposition and resentment finally resulted in the
Revolution of 1959 which caused the slaughter and expulsion of the minority Tutsi tribe. In a
series of armed incursions, episodic bloodshed, mass migrations, and political upheavals, the
majority Hutus were ultimately convincingly brainwashed into believing that their existence
depended upon an exclusive Hutu rule. The Hutu extremists prepared for a “final solution” in
exterminating the Tutsi “problem” forever. The Tutsis were to be annihilated.
How did all of this resentment and hatred against the Tutsi people culminate as it did into
this horrific tragedy? The answer to that is something that is called the “gathering storm” effect.
In the early 1990s, Rwanda was known as the “Switzerland of Africa.” It was “a welcome
sanctuary, compared to the rigors of its chaotic neighbors…a haven of order and hospitality”
(Peterson 248). Although tribal skirmishes were acknowledged, they were not taken seriously.
However, beneath Rwanda’s verdant hills there was hidden famine. Rwanda was the second
most densely populated country in Africa. It had 800 people crammed on every square
kilometer. The average woman gave birth to nearly nine children (248). People were starving.
Still, according to Peterson:
Rwanda was the most overtly ‘religious’ country in Africa. With more than 80%
of the population professed believers in the Roman Catholic Church, the hungry
turned to the Church for help...Sister Gratia handed out bean seed in 1990 to some
of the 500 who gathered at her doorstep each day… “When the earth is ill, then
the people are ill,” she said, and her words more prophetic than she could have
known. “People are slowly suffocating. It is a time-bomb ticking.” (249)
This type of political instability does not alone explain why this evil genocide took place, but it
does show the circumstances in which the seeds of evil were sown. As one analyst said, “When
you put two rats in a cage, they go to separate corners and leave each other in peace. But when
you put 30 rats into the same cage, they eat each other” (249). The Rwandans are not rats, but
the “gathering storm” effect, in which people are stressed in a society that contains the warning
signs of genocide, puts people in a position where they can behave like animals.
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Similarly, the “gathering storm” analogy and scenario can be applied to Bosnia.
The genocide in Bosnia was not the product of a few skirmishes between the Bosnians and the
Serbs. No, the causes of the war in Bosnia can be traced back to decades and even centuries of
resentment and hatred against the Muslims, when the Ottoman Turks dominated the region since
1389. However, the tension between the Croats and Serbs became more apparent during World
War II when the Serbs, fighting alongside Russia and the Allies, suffered at the hands of the
fascist Croatian military units. Communism and nationalism quickly took over, leading to a
gradual deterioration of morals, equality and education. Under the new communist government,
the Serbians gained much power and exerted it abusively on the Croats and Muslims to avenge
perceived past injustices. In the February 1993 issue of U.S. News and World Report, Miodrag
Perisic, a member of the Yugoslav government and a leading Serbian literary critic, said:
What has taken place in Bosnia is revenge for two world wars and a fear of
history repeating itself. The behavior of the Serbs is a reflection of the past.
Communism put them to sleep but the first shot awoke atavistic passion. (58)
Revenge, settling old scores, and vendetta also played a major role and were predominant
themes in all these horrific and appalling examples of savagery and human barbarism. Whether
in Nazi Europe or in the misty hills of Rwanda or in the bloody fields of Bosnia, taking revenge
was a significant precipitating factor in the slaughter of innumerable innocent people who were
branded as the “other” or the evildoers. In Bosnia, the Serbs, with an almost demonic furor,
under the leadership of Radovan Karadzic and President Slobodan Milosevic, terrorized unarmed
civilians with shocking savagery and brutality. Their campaign for “ethnic cleansing,” a
deliberate act to exterminate Muslims for the purification of Bosnia, is frighteningly reminiscent
of the Holocaust of the Second World War. At that time, the world had been shocked to learn of
the Nazi’s mass extermination of thousands of Jews and minorities. Unfortunately, it is plainly
apparent that the United States of America learned nothing from that devastating experience.
Clinton and his administration continued to watch apathetically as the Serbians eradicated all
traces of Muslim existence in Bosnia.
According to the Bosnian War Crimes Investigation Institute, there were nearly 70,000
people in concentration camps in Bosnia that reeked of death and destruction. Many more
Bosnians were forcefully evicted from their homes, robbed of their most valuable possessions
and humiliated in every way imaginable. Men, women, and children were seen marching in
deadly exodus at gunpoint to distant cities which had been seized by Serbian and Croatian
soldiers. In one exodus to Travnik, a city seized by Croatians, 1600 inhabitants were forced to
walk for 15 hours without food, drink, or rest. Carrying nothing but the items on their backs, the
Bosnians marched through a no-man’s land where a bloody battle raged on. Ed Villiamy, a
journalist who reported the exodus, described it in the August 29, 1992, edition of the Toronto
Star as follows:
Fresh blood was sprayed across the asphalt in places. It was sticky underfoot, and
there are worst places to step on accidentally than ripped flesh and human pieces,
here and there, along the lane. (1)
In the northeast city of Broko, a dilapidated customs warehouse stands on the bank of the
Sava River, one of the many death camps that was used in Bosnia. Broko was no exception to
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the grotesque horrors of other camps. Between May 15 and June of 1993, 1350 of the 1500
prisoners held there were slaughtered and dumped in the Sava River to “feed the fish” as one
Serbian guard stated. Alija Lujinovic, a 53 year old traffic engineer who was imprisoned in
Broko, told the International Red Cross and Newsday that Serbian soldiers would randomly
execute prisoners and have them cremated in an oven for animal feed. This was the product of
the years of Serbian resentment and hatred. This was one of many examples of Serbian revenge.
Lt. Col. Dave Grossman, in his monumental work On Killing: The Psychological Cost of
Learning to Kill on War and Society, extensively researched the inverse relationship between
distance and killing-“killing is made easier as the distance between perpetrators and their victims
increases” (Waller 236). Grossman claimed that he has “not found one single instance of
individuals who have refused to kill the enemy under these circumstances [maximum range],
nor…a single instance of psychiatric trauma associated with this type of killing” (236). This
distance is not only physical but also has a moral, psychological, and emotional aspect to it.
Close range killing is made easier if the victims have already suffered a “social death.” The
concept of “social death” which was perhaps first introduced by Orlando Patterson, the famous
Harvard sociologist, has three main features-“subjection or personal domination,
excommunication from the legitimate social and moral community, and relegation to a perpetual
state of dishonor” (Patterson 37). Historian Marian Kaplan applied the same concept of social
death to Jews of Nazi Germany. Sociologist Helen Fein asserted that a necessary, although not
adequate, prerequisite for genocide is the definition of the victim as outside the perpetrators’
“universe of moral obligation” (Waller 237). The three main mechanisms essential for
understanding the social death of the victims is: 1) Us-Them Thinking 2) Dehumanization of the
Victims and 3) Blaming the Victims. Extensive research has shown that social categorization
and Us-Them thinking does not necessarily lead to hatred, killing and genocide; but the powerful
message of Us against Them combined with other components can ultimately lead to the motto
of “kill or be killed.”
In his book, Becoming Evil: How Ordinary People Commit Genocide and Mass Killing,
James Waller describes an incident that appeared in the New York Times in which a Bosnian
Serb, armed with an automatic weapon, knocked on the door of a Muslim neighbor and ordered
her outside. According to the New York Times,
The Muslim woman proclaimed, “Visovic, you know me, you know my
husband…How can you do this to me?” Visovic replied: “That time is over. I no
longer know you.” Whereupon he ordered her to crawl along the street as he
kicked her repeatedly (244).
Erik Erikson, the famous developmental psychologist, promulgated the idea of “pseudo
speciation,” which refers to the extreme lines that we draw between “Us and Them.” He wrote
that people tend to consider themselves the only true human species and some others as “less
than human.” During political or social turmoil and upheaval, this may engender fanaticism, fear
and hatred of other “pseudo species.” These “pseudo species” are then considered different and
mortally dangerous, who are not human, who do not count, and can be killed without any
feelings of kinship or compassion for the victims. In social psychology, this concept is
commonly known as “dehumanization of the victims.”
For centuries preceding the Holocaust, Jews were regarded as aliens who were
stigmatized and considered “vile and diabolical;” their dehumanization was already well
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entrenched in the fabric of German and European culture. The withering anti-Semitic
propaganda in Nazi Germany was therefore extremely successful in keeping the Jews outside the
“moral universe” of the perpetrators. As Haig Bosmajian, a professor of communication studies
states, “The distance between the linguistic dehumanization of a people and their actual
suppression and extermination is not great” (Bosmajian 29). For instance, in the Holocaust the
Nazis redefined Jews as “bacilli,” “parasites,” “vermin,” “demons,” “syphilis,” “cancer,”
“excrement,” “filth,” “tuberculosis,” and “plague.” A Gestapo official once told a member of the
Warsaw Jewish Council, “You are no human, you are no dog, you are a Jew” (Baur 8). The
victims are often blamed for their suffering and are considered deserving of their fates.
Extensive research has been conducted to explain this sordid phenomenon. Henry Dicks reports
that once the British made a group of German civilians march through a concentration camp
immediately after the war. One of the Germans remarked, “What terrible criminals these
prisoners must have been to get such punishment” (Dicks 262). In short, the concept of the
“just-world phenomenon” can make us indifferent to extraordinary evil. The victims are
suffering because they “deserve it.” Justice is served. Interventions are not warranted, because
we see no evil; our exposure to suffering therefore does not necessarily lead to compassion and a
call to action.
False propaganda played a major role in the death and destruction of the Mayan people of
Guatemala since the 1960s. Approximately 200,000 Guatemalans were killed, more than 40,000
“disappeared,” and more than a million people became refugees. Large scale massacres and
ultimately, genocide, were carried out by government death squads in the 1980s and 90s. The
Mayans were called “communists” and “subversives” by the government-controlled media, and
the army did not want to distinguish between civilians and combatants. Efrain Rios Montt, an
army general who had taken control of the government, was famously quoted as saying, “We do
not have a policy of scorched earth. We have a policy of scorched Communists” (Waller 198).
The Serbs in the former Yugoslavia launched a barrage of lethal false propaganda against the
Muslims in a prelude to their campaign of terror, slaughter, and “ethnic cleansing.” According to
Roy Gutman, author of the 1993 Pulitzer Prize-Winning book A Witness to Genocide:
The best guide to what the Serbs were doing came from their own
propaganda…’Under such a hot, Balkanic sky,’ began one tract, ‘necklaces had
been strong of human eyes and ears, skulls have been halved, brains have been
split, bowels have been torn out, human spits and children’s bodies have been
pierced by bayonets…The document was titled ‘Laying Violent hands on the
Serbian Women,’ and its main allegation was that the Muslims and Croats were
committing genocide against the Serbs…The tract accused Muslim authorities of
launching a jihad or holy war against Serbs…I viewed the propaganda as a coded
message for the army and the paramilitary bands operating under loose army
supervision. The key sentence was missing: “This is war, and if they’re doing this
to us, we’ll do it to them.” In the Balkans, where revenge is part of the code of
honor, it went without saying. It was the green light for atrocities. (10)
Disinformation and false propaganda through a controlled media was perhaps most
efficiently and successfully used by the Nazis. As Goebbles once famously said, “When you tell
a lie often enough, people will start believing it.” The Hutus in Rwanda used Radio des Mille
Collines for inciting violence and pogroms against the Tutsis. The radio station kept screaming,
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“The grave is only half full, who will help us to fill it?” Similar examples of vicious propaganda
can be found in other atrocities, whether in the former Soviet Union, Cambodia, or Latin
America.
According to Waller, other factors contributing to a culture of cruelty include an
escalating commitment, ritual conducts, repression of conscience, and extreme desensitization to
violence. Conformity to peer pressure, for example, has been described by military scholars,
where the cohesive bonds among soldiers in military and paramilitary organizations are a lot
stronger than the bonds they form with anyone else at any other point in their lifetimes. The
main lesson from this analysis of cultures of cruelty is that ordinary individuals, when immersed
in “total institutional environments” can transform who they are in ways that would be normally
incomprehensible. As Darley states, “Being processed through a killing machine can kill an
individual” (Darley 210).
The victims of genocide’s “ethnic cleansing,” rape and murder at other times, are
condemned for their passivity and for not fighting back. For example, Hannah Arendt, a notable
scholar, was perhaps the first one to suggest that the victims of the Holocaust contributed to their
own demise. She claimed that fewer than six million Jews would have died if Jewish leaders had
not collaborated, to various degrees, with Nazis like Eichmann. As Waller concluded, “The
absence of resistance may confirm perpetrators’ beliefs of their victims’ inferiority. Franz
Steigel, commander of Treblinka, spoke to this directly: “They were so weak; they allowed
everything to happen…that is how contempt is born. I could never understand how they could
just give in as they did…” (254).
The perpetrators of murder and mayhem often exploit the idea of a threat from their
victims. This ethnic group or groups of people are perceived as a threat to political power, social
and financial institutions, or religious and racial “purity.” At this point, Us vs. Them behavior
takes over, and this perceived threat has to be eliminated. Elimination of this threat is most easily
embarked upon when there is significant and often lopsided military advantage of the group bent
upon annihilation. As we saw in Nazi Germany, the former Yugoslavia, and Rwanda, the
powerful undercurrents of these evil forces played a major role.
Bloodshed, murder, and plunder become the order of the day, particularly since the
perpetrators were convinced that there was no retribution or accountability. They could carry out
their evil and nefarious designs with impunity. Had the United Nations or the Great Powers
shown strong leadership and taken decisive action, particularly in the case of Bosnia and
Rwanda, the cost in human lives and political and economic consequences would have been
significantly mitigated. The International Court of Justice is belatedly now bringing some of the
worst war criminals to justice while others have gone scot-free. Rehabilitation of the victims and
of the refugees is another major responsibility of international organizations as well as major
powers. Financial and economic compensation will also go a long way to heal the deep wounds
of these unfortunate victims.
Education is needed to make the public more aware of world genocide and more sensitive
to the topic. Having schools teach ethics and morals will help to encourage individuals to fight
for all oppressed groups, or at least speak out against social injustice. It is necessary for schools,
colleges, and the media to participate in this fight against hate, by emphasizing truth and
compassion. Once the public is made aware of the realities of the horrors of genocide, and learns
to identify the warning signs, it will be easy for them to take precautions to avoid more killing,
shame and destruction. It is necessary for schools, colleges, and the media to counter popular
misconceptions about minorities and to help resolve disputes between people before they
121
escalate into campaigns of hate, discrimination, and victimization. Hate groups and hate
mongers should be curtailed, dissuaded, and brought to justice. Freedom of the press and
expression should not degenerate into spewing venomous propaganda against minorities and
ethnic groups. The press, electronic media, the Internet, and other forms of dissemination of
information should be held responsible to uphold the highest standards of professionalism,
integrity, and ethical conduct. Whenever anti-Semitism, Islamic phobia and other forms of
bigotry and hatred rear their ugly heads, a robust and vigilant response must be mobilized by all
concerned. In this regard, educational institutions, teachers, and religious and community
leaders all should assume their role to create a society and social order endowed with tolerance,
mutual understanding, peaceful coexistence, and harmony particularly in this multicultural
society.
We have exhaustively discussed and analyzed the psychodynamics and the appalling and
calamitous consequences of genocide, massacres, and Holocausts and “ethnic cleansings.” These
are ugly blots on the face of human civilization that denigrate and degrade humanity itself. Time
and again, mankind has degenerated into a dark and evil abyss of brutality, bestiality, and
barbarism, yet humanity stood idly by-impotent, immobile, and impervious. It has failed
repeatedly to act courageously and nobly, to protect the helpless, the downtrodden, the
“terrorized.” The cost has been incalculable. Our sense of shame should be stupendous: our
dishonor should be immense. This must never be allowed to happen again. We must strive, with
all our might, for peace, justice, and human dignity. We must fight for human rights, for justice
and equity, for freedom and for humanity.
We must inculcate love and compassion and service to humanity. We must fight against
tyranny, falsehood, violence and oppression. We owe this to the sacred memory of those
innocent souls who offered the ultimate sacrifice. We owe this to ourselves and our future
generations. We are the last best hope of humanity. We cannot afford to fail. We shall not fail.
Works Cited
Arendt, Hannah. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. New York: Viking
Press, 1963.
Bauer, Yehuda. The Holocaust in Historical Perspective. Seattle: University of Washington
Press, 1978.
Bosmajian, Haig. The Language of Oppression. Lanham, Md: University Press of America,
1983.
Darley, John M. “Social Organization for the Production of Evil.” Psychological Inquiry 3
(1992): 199-218.
“Deadly Exodus.” Toronto Star 29 Aug. 1992: 1.
Dicks, Henry. Licensed Mass Murder: A Social-Psychological Study of Some SS Killers. New
York: Basic Books, 1972.
Gutman, Roy. A Witness to Genocide. New York: MacMillan Publishing Company, 1993.
“Hostages to a Brutal Past.” U.S. News and World Report 15 Feb. 1993: 56.
122
Patterson, Orlando. Slavery and Social Death: A Comparative Study. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1990.
Peterson, Scott. Me Against My Brother: At War In Somalia, Sudan, and Rwanda. New York:
Routledge, 2000.
Waller, James. Becoming Evil: How Ordinary People Commit Genocide and Mass Killing.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.
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124
Case Study: Sports - Baseball Stadiums
by David Rojas
(Math 135)
The Assignment: Write an article about Major League ballparks and their effects
on the success of the teams that play in them.
O
ne aspect of Major League Baseball that is fascinating to study is the ballparks. For
example, is there a correlation between the ballparks of Major League Baseball teams and
the performance of the corresponding teams? An analysis of the attendance of the
ballparks and the percentage of the games won by the teams, among other things, might prove to
be informative in this matter.
The data for this project were all taken from the 1997 season.
Section 1: Capacity and Age
To begin, let us examine the capacities of various ballparks. Comparing the frequency
distributions of the capacities of ballparks of the American and National Leagues, one
comes to the conclusion that the ballparks of the National League are generally larger
than those of the American League (see Figures 1.1 through 1.3).
Capacities of American League Ballparks
9
8
Frequency
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
30000.5
40000.5
50000.5
Capacity
Figure 1.1
125
60000.5
70000.5
Capacities of National League Ballparks
7
Frequency
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
30000.5
40000.5
50000.5
60000.5
70000.5
Capacity
Figure 1.2
Figure 1.3
(The image on the left represents the American League ballpark capacities, while
the one on the right represents the National League ballpark capacities.)
(The class boundaries of Figures 1.1 and 1.2 were found by taking the upper and lower
class limits of adjacent classes and finding the mean. For example, the upper class limit
of the first class is 30000 and the lower class limit of the second class is 30001. The
mean of this is 30000.5.)
Another comparison can be obtained by comparing the means of the ballparks of the two
leagues. The mean capacity of the American League ballparks is 48935.4 persons
(determined by adding all of the American League capacities and dividing by fourteen),
while the mean capacity of the National League ballparks is 51996.5 persons. This
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shows a definite difference in general size of the ballparks.
(In addition, the variation among the capacities of the American League ballparks is
greater than that of the capacities of the National League ballparks: the standard deviation
of the former is 8012.1 persons, while the standard deviation of the latter is 7008.8. The
mean absolute deviation of the American League ballparks is 5893.7 (obtained from
dividing the sum of the absolute value of all of the differences between the mean and the
various values by the number of values), while the mean absolute deviation of the
National League ballparks is 5596.4. Both measures of deviation show larger variety
among the American League ballparks than among the National ones.)
One possible explanation for the size difference might come from the comparison of
when the ballparks of the two leagues were built (see Figures 1.4 and 1.5).
Years Built of American League Ballparks
7
Frequency
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
1900.5
1920.5
1940.5
1960.5
Year Built
Figure 1.4
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1980.5
2000.5
Frequency
Years Built of National League Ballparks
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
1900.5
1920.5
1940.5
1960.5
1980.5
2000.5
Year Built
Figure 1.5
The mean year built of the American League ballparks is 1965.9, while the mean year for
the National League ballparks is 1968.8. This means that there were generally more
recent ballparks built in the National League than in the American League. Since the
efficiency and cost-effectiveness of building ballparks in more recent years is likely to be
greater than that of earlier last century (in addition, the U.S. population and interest in
baseball are only increasing – hence, why more ballparks are being built in the first
place), this might explain why, in general, National League ballparks have greater
capacities.
One might argue that a difference in the means of about three years is insignificant.
However, if one looks at the distributions in even larger segments, one can see that there
were twelve National ballparks (twelve out of fourteen is 85.7%) built since 1960, but
only ten American ones (71.4%). Yet there were three American ballparks (21.4%) built
before 1940, but only one National one (7.1%). The shape of the graphs indicate that,
while neither league had particularly many ballparks built earlier in the century, the
American League had more, while the National League had a stronger presence in the
last half of the century.
One reason there might be a smaller difference between the two means than one might
expect is because the concentration of American ballparks since 1960 is more heavily
weighted in the 1980-2000 segment, while the concentration of National ballparks is
more heavily weighted in the 1960-1980 segment. Simply looking at the shape of the
graphs, with the emphasis of the American League histogram on the most recent segment
and the emphasis of the National League histogram on the second-most recent segment,
demonstrates this.
(In addition, the variation among the years built of the American League ballparks is
greater than that of the years built of the National League ballparks (much like that of the
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capacities): the standard deviation of the former is 29.9 years, while the standard
deviation of the latter is 19.6. The mean absolute deviation of the American League
ballparks is 23.4, while the mean absolute deviation of the National League ballparks is
11.9. A comparison of both measures of deviation show larger variety among the years
built of American League ballparks than among the National ones.)
This may or may not be a valid explanation (that, since the American League ballparks
were built earlier in general, their capacities are smaller), as the numbers themselves do
not make such a conclusion and this is only speculation regarding the discrepancy of the
capacities of the two leagues. The data somewhat support correlation between the
capacity and age of the two leagues, but not necessarily causality.
Section 2: Attendance and Performance
The next aspect of Major League ballparks that we will examine is the comparison of
game attendance and the percentage of games won by the corresponding teams. We will
begin by studying the American League, then the National League, and finally
juxtaposing the two results. The way we will evaluate any correlation between game
attendance and team performance is by comparing the graphs and seeing if there is any
similarities between them (see Figures 2.1 and 2.2).
Percentage of Games Won (American League)
0.65
0.6
Percentage
0.55
0.5
0.45
0.4
0.35
0.3
0
2
4
6
8
Team s
Figure 2.1
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10
12
14
16
American League Game Attendance (Order of Percent of Games Won)
50000
45000
40000
Attendance
35000
30000
25000
20000
15000
10000
5000
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Team s
Figure 2.2
The first figure shows the percentage of games won by each team (lined up in order of
smallest percentage to largest). The second figure graphs the game attendance of the
ballparks of each team; the teams are ordered from least percentage of games won to
most. While the second graph varies greatly especially near the middle teams, both show
a general increase in size. The first team, the Oakland Athletics (with the worst record of
0.401), has the smallest game attendance (15965 persons); the last team, the Baltimore
Orioles (with the best record of 0.605), has the largest game attendance (45816 persons).
Let us examine another way of determining that there is a correlation between the two.
The mean game attendance of the ballparks of the American League teams is 28013
persons. If you divide the teams in half, and start by examining the worst seven teams,
you find that their ballparks’ mean game attendance was 24031.1 persons. The best
seven teams’ ballparks’ mean game attendance, on the other hand, was 31994.9 persons.
We can see that the smallest value is the worst teams’ game attendance mean, followed
by overall mean, followed by the best teams’ game attendance mean. Small attendance to
large attendance corresponds with bad record to good record.
Now we will take a look at the game attendance and team performance of the National
League in the same fashion as that of the American League (see Figures 2.3 and 2.4).
130
Percentage of Games Won (National League)
0.65
0.6
Percentage
0.55
0.5
0.45
0.4
0.35
0.3
0
2
4
6
8
10
12
14
16
Team s
Figure 2.3
National League Game Attendance (Order of Percent of Games Won)
60000
Attendance
50000
40000
30000
20000
10000
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Team s
Figure 2.4
Once again, there is a general upward trend, although not as pronounced as that of the
American League. The mean of the lower seven teams is 23934.9, the overall mean is
28420.8, and the mean of the better seven teams is 32906.7. Again, this shows an
upward trend consistent with the idea that there is a correlation between overall
performance and ballpark game attendance.
131
One possible explanation for a correlation of this sort is that, as a team does progressively
well, there is a much greater incentive for people to go to its games. However, for those
teams that do not do as well (especially if they have a historical record of not doing well),
their ballparks’ game attendance will likely not be as great.
The variation among the ballpark game attendances of the American League teams is
greater than that of the National League. The standard deviation for American League
ballpark game attendance is 10251.1, while that of the National League is 9393.5. The
mean absolute deviation for American League ballpark game attendance is 8808, while
the mean absolute deviation for National League ballpark game attendance is 7314.2.
Figure 2.5
(The image on the left represents the American League game attendances, while
the one on the right represents the National League game attendances.)
Figure 2.5 shows that, although the minimum and maximum of the National League are
greater than that of the American League, one can see that the general centers of the
distributions are similar. In addition, the variations are made more obvious with the
boxplots (the National League concentration segment is much smaller than that of the
American League).
Section 3: Attendance Percentage and Performance
In this section, we will follow a somewhat similar process as that of Section 2. However,
instead of dealing with the average game attendance, we will look at how full the
ballparks were. We will compare the percentage of the ballpark that was filled (in other
words, game attendance divided by ballpark capacity) to the performance of the various
teams (again, the percentage of games won). To begin, we will look at the American
League data (see Figure 3.1).
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American League Capacity Filled (Order of Percent of Games Won)
1
Percentage of Capacity Filled
0.9
0.8
0.7
0.6
0.5
0.4
0.3
0.2
0.1
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Team s
Figure 3.1
The general upward trend is noticeable. This subjective conclusion is evinced by using
the same method used in the last section, taking the mean of the worst seven teams and
comparing it to the overall mean and the mean of the best seven teams. The mean for the
first seven teams is 0.5371, the mean for all seven teams is 0.5828, and the mean for the
final seven teams is 0.6285. This helps support the conclusion that attendance (or, in this
case, how much of the ballpark is filled) is correlated to games won.
Let us examine the National League data, and see whether or not the results are similar
(see Figure 3.2).
133
National League Capacity Filled (Order of Percent of Games Won)
1
Percentage of Capacity Filled
0.9
0.8
0.7
0.6
0.5
0.4
0.3
0.2
0.1
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Team s
Figure 3.2
The trend is less obviously noticeable in this graph. However, if one follows the same
procedure as when evaluating the American League data, one can see there is a general
increase: the mean of the capacity filled of the lower seven teams’ ballparks is 0.4818,
the mean of all fourteen teams is 0.5599, and the mean of the upper seven teams is
0.6380.
Moreover, one can see that the second worst team (which, actually, had the same record
as the worst team; therefore, the Phillies and the Cubs both were the worst teams) had the
lowest capacity filled, and the best team had the second highest capacity filled.
The same explanation as for Section 2 can be used here. As a team does better, more
people wish to see its games, so the percentage of capacity filled for ballparks of teams
that do well will naturally be higher.
Another attribute that we can compare is the variation of the percentage of capacity filled.
The variation was a little greater for the American League than for the National League.
The standard deviation of the percentage of capacity filled for the American League
ballparks is 0.04984, while the standard deviation for that of the National League
ballparks is 0.04243. The mean absolute deviation for the American League was 0.1837,
while the mean absolute deviation for the National League was 0.1812.
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Figure 3.3
The small difference in variation is shown through the boxplots in Figure 3.3, as the
focus of values for the National League was a little more concentrated together.
Section 4: Attendance Percentage Comparisons
Finally, we can divide the teams into four categories indicating how full the ballparks
were throughout the season. The first category is for those teams whose ballparks were
less than 40% full, the second category is for those between 40% and 59% full, the third
is for those between 60% and 79% full, and the final one is for those at least 80% full.
We will first examine the American League, then we will look at the National League,
and finally we will look at all of the data. In order to distribute these numbers, we will
use histograms (see Figure 4.1 through 4.3).
135
Percentage of American League Ballpark Capacity Filled
6
5
Frequency
4
3
2
1
0
-0.5%
39.5%
59.5%
Percentage
79.5%
100.5%
Figure 4.1
Percentage of National League Ballpark Capacity Filled
6
5
Frequency
4
3
2
1
0
-0.5%
39.5%
59.5%
Percentage
Figure 4.2
136
79.5%
100.5%
Percentage of Major League Ballpark Capacity Filled
9
8
Frequency
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
-0.5%
39.5%
59.5%
79.5%
100.5%
Percentage
Figure 4.3
An interesting note about the first two histograms is that, while it appears that the
attendance percentage of the National League ballparks were generally larger than that of
the American League, the means determined (the mean for the American ballparks was
0.5828, while the mean for the National ones was 0.5599) that the American League
ballparks usually had a generally larger attendance percentage.
Section 5: Summary and Conclusions
The overarching purpose of this project (besides simply analyzing ballpark data) was to
determine the relationship between game attendance and team performance. The
conclusion from Sections 2 and 3 (where we first analyzed game attendance and then the
percentage of ballpark capacity filled and compared them to team performance) was that
there was a correlation between game attendance and team performance.
One possible explanation for this apparent correlation that was mentioned in those
sections was that the better a team does, the more individuals would want to watch the
team play. This seems to be a plausible rationalization for part of the relationship.
However, one might also make the argument that the more people who watch a game, the
better a team will play, as the pressure to do well or the encouragement from fans
increase. This seems to be a much less plausible explanation than the other one
presented.
137
We also examined the capacities of the ballparks (without respect to the game
attendance) and compared them to their respective ages. There also seemed to be a
correlation between these two attributes. The explanation that was given in Section 1
was that, since National League ballparks were generally built more recently than
American League ones, their capacities would be larger (due to increased building
efficiency, increased population, and increased interest in baseball).
The final aspect of the ballpark that we took a look at was placing the various levels of
attendance percentage of capacity into different categories, so one can see the distribution
of this attribute of Major League ballparks.
138
Helping to Break the Communication Barrier
by Maggie Smith
(English 103)
The Assignment: Choose a profession that you both want to pursue or find
interesting, and research it.
H
ave you ever known anyone who seems to have trouble communicating effectively?
What about someone who has lost motor and oral functions due to a stroke or brain
injury? According to Patricia Hicks, author of Opportunities in Speech-Language
Pathology, “Nearly 15 million Americans or one out of every 20 persons, have a speechlanguage disorder” (3). I happen to have been one of those 15 million who suffered from a
speech disorder.
When I was a child, I went to speech therapy. My mom told me that she received a call
from my first grade teacher concerning my communication skills. She told my mom that she got
the basic idea of what I wanted, but that I verbally didn’t make any sense. So for two years I
worked with Mrs. Rooney, my speech therapist. She helped me communicate better by using the
correct grammar. She also helped me correct the problem I had with “r” sounds. Thanks to Mrs.
Rooney, I can now communicate effectively with other people.
So how did the speech language pathology profession come to be? Surprisingly, the
profession of speech-language pathology (SLP) hasn’t been around that long; however, the ideas
of correcting speech have. To explain the beginnings of speech-language pathology, Hicks
refers to an ancient mythological story: “The beginning of the profession can be traced back as
far back as the fifth century B.C. when a number of Greek writers reported the awareness of
speech defects and efforts to alleviate them” (1). Hicks refers to a legend that supports this
theory. She states, “One such legend describes the Athenian orator Demosthenes shouting at the
sea with his mouth full of pebbles in an attempt to cure his stuttering” (1). However, the first
real scientific understanding of speech disorders came to surface in the early 19th century.
According to Hicks, “The primary contributors [to the field of speech-language pathology] were
physicians and surgeons in France, England, Ireland, Austria, and Germany, who published
reports on their methods and results for treating individuals with speech problems” (2).
It wasn’t until the second decade of the 20th century that Americans really started contributing to
the field, says Hicks. However, at this time no specific qualifications were necessary to practice
speech-language pathology. In response, many people claimed to be able to cure speech
disorders without really having any previous training or knowledge in the field. This issue was
resolved when a specified course of study was introduced during the 1920’s.
The major organization that is affiliated with the profession of speech-language
pathology is ASHA. ASHA stands for the American Speech-Language-Hearing Association.
ASHA believes, “The mission of the American Speech-Language-Hearing Association is to
promote the interests of and provide the highest quality services for professionals in audiology,
speech-language pathology, and speech and hearing science, and to advocate for people with
communication disabilities” (“About Our Organization” 1). In accordance with its belief,
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“ASHA currently represents 118,437 speech-language pathologists, audiologists, and speech,
language, and hearing scientists. And of that 118,437, about 98,334 represent speech-language
pathologists, 4.5% of which are males” (“Highlights and Trends: ASHA Counts for 2004” 1).
What exactly does a speech language pathologist do? In reference to the Occupational
Outlook Handbook, “Speech-Language Pathologists, sometimes called speech therapists, assess,
diagnose, treat, and help to prevent speech, language, cognitive, communication, voice,
swallowing, fluency, and other related disorders” (1). Hicks states that, “2 million adults and
approximately 200,000 adults and children with head injuries have experienced loss in the ability
to comprehend and use language because of damage to the brain” (3). Similarly, there are
numerous reasons as to why a speech disorder would arise. Reasons such as stroke, brain injury
or deterioration, developmental delays, cerebral palsy, cleft palate, mental retardation, and
hearing impairment are all possible explanations. In addition, with modern technology, saving
lives has become easier than ever before. Therefore, the number of people with communication
disorders will grow because the people being saved will now be faced with oral and motor
disorders.
For the most part, once a speech disorder is detected, especially at a younger age, it is
easier to correct. Hicks states, “Nearly six million children under age eighteen have a speech or
language disorder” (3). In addition, “Speech disorders affect up to 15 percent of preschoolers
and 6 percent of children in grades one through twelve” (3). Patricia Hamaguchi, author of
Childhood Speech, Language and Listening Problems, has developed a list of common behaviors
found in children with speech disorders. She breaks down each age group starting at birth all the
way to age twelve. Hamaguchi also makes reference to the three most common speech disorders
among children. One type is phonological disorders. According to Hamaguchi, “Phonological
disorders are speech problems that are more complex and pervasive than simple articulation
deficits” (68). Another type of disorder consists of simple articulation problems. This is when a
child has problems pronouncing particular sounds or groups of sounds together. Similarly,
Hamaguchi reports, “The r and l sounds are probably the most commonly mispronounced” (72).
The third type of disorder deals with oral-motor conditions. This has to do with how the mouth
moves and functions. If the muscles in the mouth are weak, communicating effectively may
become an issue.
Fortunately, there are methods and techniques used by speech-language pathologists to
help correct and /or improve speech disorders. There are a series of different written and oral
tests that speech-language pathologists can use to diagnose a speech disorder. Hicks states:
There are twelve assessment tests that [a] SLP can administer to help assess the
problem. They include comprehensive speech-language pathology assessment,
spoken language assessment, written language assessment, augmentative and
alternative communication assessment, articulation/phonology assessment,
fluency assessment, voice assessment, resonance and nasal airflow assessment,
swallowing function assessment, or facial function assessment, and
prosthetic/adaptive device assessment. (15-16)
In addition, the Occupational Outlook Handbook reports, “For individuals with little or no
speech capability, speech-language pathologists may select automated devices and sign
language, and teach their use” (1). The various techniques used to help treat speech disorders are
different for each patient; therefore, speech-language pathologists must create a special plan of
140
work for each individual patient. SLPs often deal with the families of their patients. The
Occupational Outlook Handbook also states that “[t]hey work with family members to recognize
and change behavior patterns that impede communication and treatment and show them
communication-enhancement techniques to use at home” (1). Overall, speech-language
pathologists often administer numerous tests to help identify a problem and, in return, help
families work with other members who have the speech problem outside of therapy sessions.
According to the Occupational Outlook Handbook, “Of the 46 states that regulate
licensing for SLP, almost all require a master’s degree or equivalent” (United States 2). There
are 233 colleges and universities that offer this particular degree. In general, topics such as
anatomy, physiology, development of normal speech, and psychological aspects of
communication are covered. However, once in the graduate program, students will learn how to
diagnose and treat speech disorders. In order to be considered a certified SLP, you must pass the
national examination on SLP through the Praxis Series of the Educational Testing Service.
Along with that, you must complete 300-375 hours of supervised clinical experience and nine
months of post-graduate professional experience.
Along with the educational training, there are a variety of skills that are also necessary.
“Occupations: Speech Pathologists and Audiologists” suggests that “Speech pathologists need to
express ideas clearly when speaking or writing, understand spoken and written information, and
be able to listen to others and ask questions” (4). Being able to manage time efficiently and stay
organized is important. As a speech-language pathologist, you will be dealing with more than
one patient. So keeping papers separated and sorted is crucial. Speech-language pathologists
need to be sensitive to the needs of their patients. On this topic, “Occupations: Speech
Pathologists and Audiologists” specifies, “Speech pathologists need to use several methods to
learn and to teach new things to others, look for ways to help people, change behavior in relation
to others actions, and be aware of others reactions and understand the possible causes” (4).
Having the above skills are important to speech-language pathologists.
Being able to achieve a degree in speech-language pathology isn’t impossible, even if
you are low on funds. There are numerous scholarships, grants, and loans. For example,
training grants are offered by the department of education and health and human services are
offered by government agencies (“Financial Aid Resources for Students” 3). The American
Speech-Language-Hearing Foundation (ASHF) also offers a series of scholarships to graduate
students either pursuing a master’s or doctoral degree in SLP (“Financial Aid Resources for
Students” 2). In addition, “Financial Aid Resources for Students” acknowledges:
Up to ten graduate student scholarships are available annually for masters or
doctoral level students in SLP or audiology. Of this, two $2000 student research
grants are available, seven $5000 new investigator research grants are available,
and one $5000 speech science research grant is available in alternate years to an
individual. (2)
Accordingly, the majority of universities and colleges offer their own scholarships and loans to
graduate students in this profession. Of course, there is always standard financial aid available,
too.
There are many different environments where SLP’s can work. However, the
Occupational Outlook Handbook reported that “Speech-Language Pathologists held about
94,000 jobs in 2002. About half of jobs were in educational services including preschools,
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elementary and secondary schools, and colleges and universities” (United States 1). Aside from
educational institutions, speech-language pathologists also work in hospitals, nursing homes,
home healthcare services, adult and children daycare centers, and for individual or family
services. There is also a small portion of SLPs that choose to be self-employed in private clinics
or work as researchers in the profession.
There aren’t any outrageous or extreme conditions in which speech-language pathologists
work. SLPs generally work either at the patient’s bedside if in the medical environment, or in
the classroom if in the educational environment. While the job isn’t physically demanding,
being able to pay close attention to detail and new changes in behavior are crucial. In that sense,
the job may become mentally strenuous at times. As for traveling, the occasional trip to a
conference or workshop may be required (“Occupations: Speech Pathologists and Audiologists”
3).
For the most part, SLPs generally hold full-time positions that consist of typical fortyhour weeks. If you work in an educational institution, you generally work on an academic
calendar consisting of nine to ten months. However, annual workers work on a calendar-year
basis of eleven or twelve months. The difference in pay is approximately $3,200 (United States
2). In general, “Wages for speech-language pathologists is $4,120 per month or $23.77 per
hour” (“Occupations: Speech Pathologists and Audiologists” 1). For the most part, full-time
SLPs receive some type of benefits package. According to “Occupations: Speech Pathologists
and Audiologists.” “Benefits vary by employer. Those who work full-time for schools and
government agencies usually receive benefits. Typical benefits include health insurance, paid
vacation, sick leave, and a retirement plan” (2).
Finding a job as a speech-language pathologist will never be an issue. In regard to
“Occupations: Speech Pathologists and Audiologists,” “In Illinois, employment of speech
pathologists and audiologists is expected to grow about as fast as average through 2012. About
250 job openings are expected each year. The rate at the national level is the same” (2). There
are several reasons why there will always be such a high demand for speech-language
pathologists. The advancement of medical technology is helping people to survive strokes and
premature babies with certain birth defects live. “Occupations: Speech Pathologists and
Audiologists” also states that “Federal law promises services to children with special needs” (2).
In return, there will always be positions to fill in schools. The Occupational Outlook Handbook
also states, “Greater awareness of the importance of early identification and diagnosing of
speech, language, swallowing, and hearing disorders will also increase employment” (United
States 2). Overall, the job outlook for speech-language pathologists is very promising.
There is only one current problem in the field of speech-language pathology. This is the
shortage of PhDs in the field. According to Susan Boswell, author of “Where have all the PhDs
gone?,” “The field never had an abundance of PhDs, and now a second generation PhDs are
rapidly approaching retirement age” (1). Boswell states that “for the first time in 14 years, the
number of research doctorates awarded by U.S. universities declined, dropping by 3.6% in 1999,
according to the University of Chicago’s National Opinion Research Center” (2). Boswell also
reports that “approximately 50% of all graduate students who enter PhD programs do not
complete them and most leave the first year” (2). However, there are several reasons why there
is this shortage.
Geographic region is one cause. Cheryl M. Scott and Kim Willcox, authors of “The PhD
in CSD” suggest that “Geographic distribution of PhD-granting programs is uneven. For
example, Ohio has six PhD programs, California has only one, and 13 states have none at all”
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(1). Also, Scott and Willcox state, “Of 300 academic programs in CSD in the United States,
only 61 offer a research PhD. The vast majority, (75%) of CSD graduate programs offers the
master’s or professional doctorate only” (1). As a result, being able to support and maintain PhD
programs is hard. Scott and Willcox also report, “Maintaining and even expanding programs to
educate students at the PhD level is very difficult. It requires laboratories, funding, and
academic culture that values the effort and facilitates the needed activities” (2). Without
adequate funding for PhD programs, the situation is going to become worse. Boswell reports,
“At the doctoral level, even fewer programs exist—there are less than 50 traditional doctoral
programs culminating in a PhD” (2). The overall fear of not having enough PhD holders in the
field is that
Fewer researchers and a decline in research productivity may lead to a void in
clinical and basic research from other fields, such as linguistics or psychology,
conducting research. This decline in research conducted by doctorally prepared
faculty in our discipline may in turn lead to a loss of clinical application, research
autonomy, and funding sources in communication sciences and disorders (CSD),
says Boswell. (1)
However, the most significant factor has to do with the students themselves. How they feel
about the programs offered to them at the PhD level is less than satisfying. Scott and Willcox
report, “One of the major reasons why students leave PhD programs is because they feel isolated,
disconnected, and generally unsupported” (3). Keeping in mind that the field of speech-language
pathology and audiology is composed mainly of women, for this reason, money has also become
a factor (Boswell 1). Boswell states, “Women in academia continue to face gender-related
challenges. In CSD, women comprise 67% of faculty, but male faculty had a base salary of
$13,435 more than females” (3). This fact only discourages women from pursuing their PhD in
speech-language pathology.
There have been some suggested solutions to help solve this problem. According to Scott
and Willcox, “There is evidence from several fields that students who begin their doctoral
studies at an early age and progress through a program at a faster rate are more likely to complete
their programs and assume an academic position” (3). Another solution is offered from Debra
Busacco. She believes, “Students may be unaware of the multiple career tasks for those with a
PhD degree and of the ability to combine responsibilities in teaching, research, clinical service,
administration, and consulting” (qtd. in Boswell 2). The final attempt to solve this issue is a
program that the communication sciences and disorders (CSD) department at Howard University
came up with (Boswell 3). Boswell states, “In 1994, Howard University began the program
Preparing Future Faculty (PFF), a national model designed to prepare the next generation of
faculty members” (3). Orlando Taylor, director of the PFF program at Howard University, says,
“Students have a chance to prepare for the professorate as they go behind the scenes to see what
a professor’s day is like and get hands-on teaching experiences” (qtd. in Boswell 4). PFF
currently is composed of 338 different institutions (Boswell 3). This may be the most promising
solution to the problem of PhD shortages.
Becoming a speech-language pathologist is a rewarding career. Just think about that one
family member or friend who suffers from some type of speech problem. Don’t you wish you
could help them out? Well, thanks to speech therapists, they can help your friend or family
member. Personally, I am grateful for my speech therapist. She changed my life for the better
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and now I communicate effectively. Speech-language pathologists improve the quality of life for
hundreds of people. Being able to make a lifelong difference in another person is an incredible
achievement.
Works Cited
“About Our Organization.” ASHA. 2005. American Speech-Language-Hearing Association.
19 Apr. 2005 <http://www.asha.org/sitehelp>.
“ASHA Certification Requirements Academic, Clinical, and Exam Standards for the Certificate
of Clinical Competence (CCC).” ASHA. 2005. American Speech-Language-Hearing
Association. 18 Apr. 2005 <http://www.asha.org/public/cert>.
Boswell, Susan. “Where have all the PhDs gone? Academics seek solutions to doctoral crisis.”
ASHA Leader. 6.21 (2001): 1-. Health Reference Center-Academic. Gale Group.
College of DuPage Library, Glen Ellyn, IL. 14 Apr. 2005.
“Financial Aid Resources for Students.” ASHA. 2005. American Speech-Language-Hearing
Association. 18 Apr. 2005 <http://www.asha.org/students/financial-aid>.
Hamaguchi, Patricia M. Childhood Speech, Language & Listening Problems. New York: John
Wiley, 1995.
Hicks, Patricia L. Opportunities in Speech-Language Pathology Careers. Lincolnwood: VGM
Career Horizons, 1996.
“Highlights and Trends: ASHA Counts for 2004.” ASHA. 28 Mar. 2005. American SpeechLanguage-Hearing Association. 19 Apr. 2005 <http://www.asha.org/>.
“Occupations: Speech Pathologist and Audiologist.” Illinois Career Information System. 2004.
CIS Horizons. University of Oregon. College of DuPage Library. Glen Ellyn, IL. 14
Apr. 2005 <http://www.cis.ilworkinfo.com/print_topics2.aspx>.
Scott M. Cheryl, Wilcox K. “The PhD in CSD.” ASHA Leader. 7.21 (2002): 4-. Expanded
Academic ASAP. Gale Group. College of DuPage Library, Glen Ellyn, IL. 14 Apr.
2005.
“Speech-Language Pathologist.” Vocational Biographies. 2.25. 2005. Vocational Biographies.
18 Apr. 2005 <http://www.vocbiosonline.com/titlesearch>.
United States. Dept. of Labor. Bureau of Labor Statistics. “Speech-Language Pathologist.”
Occupational Outlook Handbook. 2004-2005ed. 27 Feb. 2004. 5 Apr. 2004
<www.bls.gov/oco/ocos099.htm>.
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Making the News
by Ruth Valentine
(English 102)
The Assignment: Describe a memorable event.
I
awoke to a sharp pain in my belly so intense it forced me to sit up. I rolled out of bed. At
five feet tall and having gained forty pounds, it was the only way for me to get in and out of
bed. I went into the bathroom and realized my water bag had popped. I always imagined
when my water broke, there would be a big gush of water but mine was more like a slow leak. I
called my doctor and she suggested I come in right away.
Once we arrived at her office, I was taken into a room right away. She confirmed that my
water bag had broken but that I was only dilated one centimeter. Great. Only nine more to go.
She said I could go straight to the hospital or go home and wait until my contractions were
closer. I chose to go home. By the time we left the office, I was definitely feeling the
contractions. Every one of them forced me to stop and catch my breath. We finally walked into
our house around 9:45 and WOW, was I feeling them now! Our Lamaze teacher had instructed
us to get on all fours if we felt any kind of back pain and have our partner massage it. The pain
was so intense that my husband and daughter had to take turns massaging my back. I was in so
much pain that a tractor could have run over me and I would not have felt it. I finally got off the
floor because I had to go to the bathroom, then felt the urge to push. With the help of my
daughter, I was able to get cleaned up and out of the bathroom before I popped the baby into the
toilet. My husband was already in the van waiting for me. There was no way that I was to going
to be able to sit. I sat in the back, on my knees, holding onto the bench with my back to my
husband and daughter. I kept telling my husband to call the doctor because I was feeling the
urge to push. I realized after about the fifth time that he had no idea what I was talking about. I
then told him that I was starting to feel the baby’s head. That’s when he started to panic. He
immediately called the doctor and started yelling at me to stop pushing. If you’ve ever had a
baby, you know how ridiculous that statement is. Stop pushing. Yeah, right. The ride to the
hospital was probably only fifteen minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. We must have hit
every light on the way. I kept envisioning giving birth in the van and making the ten o’clock
news. My husband jumped out of the car yelling, “My wife is having a baby! My wife is having
a baby!” He had to stress to them that, “No, really. She’s having the baby right now!” I was
only able to shuffle my feet for fear that if I took a normal step, the baby would literally hit the
pavement. When the ER nurse greeted me with a wheel chair, I explained to her that I could feel
the baby’s head. She refused to take me up the elevator for fear that I would have the baby in the
elevator. I was forced to wait for an OB nurse to come and get me. Once they got me up to the
OB floor and off the elevator, they rushed me past the front desk and straight to my room. The
nursed asked me to get out of the chair. You would have thought she was asking me to run a
marathon. I could not move. They eventually helped out of the chair and out of my shorts and
into the bed. I opened my legs and out popped the baby’s head. I delivered Samantha (daughter
#2) approximately ten minutes after arriving at the hospital. It was the most amazing thing I
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have ever experienced. After they cleaned up the baby, the nurse looked down at my feet and
asked, “Oh. Did you want to take off your shoes?”
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Whether It Is Morally Permissible
by Anthony Wilder
(Philosophy 110)
The Assignment: Choose a position and write a logically sound position paper.
I
n today’s global marketplace, the world is shrinking faster than ever before. More and more
agrarian nations are becoming industrialized societies. With these transformations comes the
need to find some type of comparative advantage in the global marketplace. Unfortunately,
being several hundred years behind the industrial revolution, these nations lack the materials and
cognitive resources to compete globally.
However, the newly emerging industrial nations have one absolute advantage over the
many industrialized nations and that is an overabundance of uneducated and unskilled labor
perfect for labor-intensive manufacturing operations. Many of these countries are willing to
exploit their citizens in exchange for monies and a solid foothold into the global economy.
This foothold comes at a significant price to the inhabitants of these countries. When a
foreign government is willing to exploit its own citizens, a question must be addressed by the
more advanced societies: Whether it is morally permissible for businesses to exploit povertystricken nations for low cost manufacturing. As an American citizen, like other American
citizens, I place a significant importance on the morality of any given issue. The exploitation of
labor in impoverished nations, in my point of view, is absolutely wrong and out of line.
Exploitation, like many words in the American language, can be ambiguous. It can have
positive as well as negative connotations. Depending on the context in which it is used, to
exploit can either mean to use well or, in direct contrast, to mean unfair use. For the purpose of
this essay, the definition of exploitation will be defined as unfair usage.
Morality is a guide to behavior by the members of a society. A better definition might be
an ethical motive, which is motivationally based upon right and wrong. Morality can be simply
defined as treating others with the same regard that you would wish in return. American
business does not fall anywhere in the realm of these definitions. American business favors
capitalistic morality, which states everyone is responsible for their own well-being. “And one’s
only path forward is by making whatever voluntary contracts one can” (Banarjee). Capitalistic
morality is basically the same as Darwinism and has very little to do with actual morality
involved.
Like America and other industrialized societies, the journey from agrarian to
industrialization should better the lives of the people undergoing the transformation. This
however is not the case in many poverty-stricken nations. Because of the immorality of
corporate America, there has begun a moral “race to the bottom” (Chan). Poverty-stricken
countries are vying for the seemingly unlimited U.S. investment dollars, and they are willing to
entice companies by lowering the already low standards of living in their countries. There is no
thought or concern for the advancement of their citizens.
In 1970, the U.S. enacted the Clean Air Act and in 1972 The Clean Water Act. Because
American companies were acting so morally irresponsibly, the government foresaw the need to
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legislate these areas. American corporations were forced by law to become model citizens and
act responsibly.
This increased scrutiny led to the need to find a more lenient place to manufacture
products. One country welcoming U.S. manufacturing and U.S. dollars is Mexico. Mexico is
willing to look the other way while American, Japanese, and European maquiladoras pollute the
air and waterways of the country. Many companies in the United States choose to operate in
Mexican border towns because of the lack of environmental regulations. Plating companies,
which produce byproducts like cyanide, especially appreciate the relaxed (mostly non-existent)
environmental controls. Without an organization like the E.P.A., companies are free to dump
their hazardous chemicals right onto the ground. This has in turn begun to create severe health
problems to the citizens of Mexico.
If it were morally acceptable to dump the byproducts of the manufacturing industry onto
the ground, then U.S. companies would be able to dispose of their waste in that manner in
America. The E.P.A. forbids the dumping of hazardous materials in the United States. Thus, it
cannot be moral for corporations to dump hazardous chemicals onto the ground in the United
States. Since it is morally wrong for American companies to pollute the United States, then it is
equally wrong for American companies to pollute in other countries. American society says it is
morally wrong to pollute the air and water in the United States. Therefore, it must be equally
wrong for American companies to pollute other nations’ air and water supplies. There is no
ethical or moral rationalization that can be made for poisoning one country for the financial
benefit of another.
Even more disturbing and morally reprehensible than the pollution is the exploitation of
human beings by corporate America. As stated earlier, there have been laws governing labor in
the United States for almost 200 years. Since Americans place an utmost importance on fair
labor, it would seem that they would hold other nations accountable for poor labor conditions as
well. This is not the case. Americans continue to purchase goods form U.S. companies that
make their profit margins by capitalizing on human misery.
American corporations should not be allowed to quarry impoverished peoples in order to
increase profits and bring products to the American people at lower prices. Since its
transformation from agrarian to an industrialized society, the U.S. has enacted several labor laws.
Because of the inhumane and immoral working conditions in early U.S. factories, there was
necessity for the enactment of labor laws. Moreover, as far back as 1883, the U.S. has been
enacting laws like the law banning children from working in textile mills. Based on the fact that
the U.S. passed these laws, it is not wrong to say that the U.S. places a significant moral
responsibility on corporations for adequate labor conditions. Considering the American workers’
labor struggles, it follows that Americans should place a great emphasis on fair labor and
working conditions throughout the world.
In today’s marketplace, it is very difficult to pick up a product that is not made in Asia.
With the current poor condition of the financial market, Americans are increasingly sensitive to
the origins of the products they are purchasing. Since the job market in the U.S. has dwindled,
the battle cry has become “stop shipping our jobs overseas.” Yet, they still buy the products
produced by American companies manufactured overseas never questioning how the products
are made so cheaply. The cheap prices that Americans enjoy come at the expense of other
human beings. America as a whole has seen fit to abolish all forms of unconscionable labor.
Some types of labor like child and slave were abolished over one hundred year ago. In today’s
society neither child or slave labor would be tolerated. In fact, whenever a case of either
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becomes known in the United States, it is met with great disdain and moral reprehension, it
completely saturates the news. A perfect example is the coverage on the sweatshops in
California. American society has an immense distaste for forced labor and child labor.
Since Americans place such a high value on an individual’s life, the following argument
can be made. If Americans condemn child and slave labor in the United States, then child and
slave labor is morally wrong to the citizens of the United States. If child and slave labor is
wrong to the citizens of the U.S., then child and slave labor in the rest of the world should also
be morally wrong to the citizens of the U.S. Therefore, if Americans condemn child and slave
labor in the United States, then child and slave labor in the rest of the world should also be
morally wrong to the citizens of the U.S. This is a strong argument, but very few people follow
its rational.
In the midst of an overwhelming abundance of product inflow from Asia, Americans
enjoy the luxury of purchasing products at cheap prices. However, these cheap prices are
coming at the very expense and the very conditions Americans have fought so long and hard to
abolish. One counter argument that is always used to try to refute and justify the morality of
foreign labor practices is that it costs much less to live in these foreign countries. It is a true
statement that the cost of living is lower in most of these countries. Nevertheless, what is often
overlooked are the actual wages being paid to these individuals and the conditions they are
subjected to earn their wages. A perfect example is the Qin Shi handbag factory in China that
produces products for companies like Wal-Mart. Workers labor 12 to 14 hours per day, seven
days a week for 3 cents an hour and are only allowed outside the fenced in compound for one
and a half hours a day. That is roughly three dollars per week. After deductions for room and
board, they are left with almost nothing.
The toy industry in China is also guilty of these moral atrocities. “During the ‘busy
season’ in China, three million toy workers – mostly young women – will be locked inside 2,800
factories. They will be forced to work 15 hours a day, 7 days a week, 30 days a month, handling
toxic chemicals with their bare hands” (“Toys of Misery”). And for all of their work in the
appalling conditions, they are awarded with 12 cents an hour (“Toys of Misery”). However,
after a varying array of fines and being cheated out of overtime pay, they are left with very little.
“The International Labor Organization estimates that 250 million children between the
ages of five and fourteen work in developing countries” (“Children’s Rights”). This number
includes the approximately 5 million children who are debt bonded in India (“Human
Collateral”). Debt bonded is just a politically correct way of saying slavery. Debt bonding
“occurs when a person becomes a security against a debt or small loan” (“Human Collateral”).
These loans are usually for the basic necessities of life like food and medical care. With
exorbitant interest rates reaching 60%, individuals are forced to work in harsh conditions to
repay the debt. This indebtedness is what leads to four-year-old children being tied to rug looms.
Throughout America’s short history, there has been a great moral obligation placed on its
citizens. One only has to look to the Declaration of Independence and the statement: “We hold
these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal, they are endowed by their creator
with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of
Happiness.” The Bill of Rights reaffirms these concepts. Many third world poverty-stricken
countries violate human rights in order to profit from their citizens’ misery. Since America
places a high standard on human life, it would reason that any violation of these rights anywhere
in the world would be intolerable to U.S. citizens. With the great hardships and strife American
workers have endured, it is easy to sympathize with the struggles of newly industrializing
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nations. Since Americans fought long and hard for labor reform and fair labor conditions, we
may conclude that it is not morally permissible to exploit poverty-stricken nations for low cost
manufacturing when they are struggling with the same inhumane working conditions we will not
tolerate for Americans.
References
Banarjee, Sanjoy. “WTO Morality Play: Who Is Progressive?” December 17 1999. NCMonline.
May 24, 2004. www.ncmonline.com.
Chan, Anita. “A Race to the Bottom.” China Perspectives March-April 2003.
“Children’s Rights.” Human Rights Watch on the Web. 2003. May 22, 2004. www.hrw.org.
Clark, Charles S. “Do U.S. consumers abet worker exploitation?” CQ Researcher. August 16,
1996. O-library.cqpress.com./lrc.cod.edu.
Cooper, Mary H. “Is globalization a positive trend?” CQ Researcher. Vol. 1, No. 22. June 9,
2000. O-library.cqpress.com/lrc.cod.edu.
“Human Collateral.” May 21. 2004. www.anti-slavery.org.
“Toys of Misery.” National Labor Committee on the Web. February 2002. May 22, 2004.
www.nlcnet.org
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Book Review: The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test
by Roberta Williams
(History 257)
The Assignment: Write a book review of The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by
Tom Wolfe. Who is Ken Kesey? What are the Merry Pranksters trying to do?
Why? What does this novel tell you about American society at this time?
Explain.
“T
he powers if ordinary men are circumscribed by the everyday worlds in which they
live, yet even in these rounds of job, family, and neighborhood they often seem driven
by forces they can neither understand nor govern. Great changes’ are beyond their
control, but affect their conduct and outlook none the less. The very framework of modern
society confines them to projects not their own, but from every side, such changes now press
upon the men and women of the mass society, who accordingly feel that they are without
purpose in an epoch in which they are without power” (Wright 3).
History is something we all experience directly and indirectly. We live through it; it
touches and shapes our lives. Sometimes it is not obvious, but more often it is like a breeze that
can’t be seen, and unless the breeze is strong, cold or the day is hot and one is in need of a wind
we pay it little mind. This is the history we experience like air. We live in it, breathe it, move
through it, yet pay it little mind. (It is the history of today.) We feel the touch of it so much that
we are not aware of it until jolted out of it. Ken Kesey was one such jolt.
Freedom is synonymous with the United States’ definition of itself. It is a concept that
has permeated the American consciousness since the country’s creation and, although freedom is
enmeshed in the American psyche, it has not remained unchanged, and throughout our history
has been reformulated to fit the needs of the times it passes through. The 1950’s saw freedom
change from FDR’s four freedoms and World War II’s fight against fascism to something quite
different, the freedom to consume and freedom to conform.
The 1950’s were an idealized time. The United States found itself as the leader of the
“Free World,” rebuilding Europe, with a strong industrial economy and prosperous population.
The standard of living was high, and it was a time of affluence. The threat that faced the United
States was the Union of Soviet Socialist Republic, and US was embroiled with the USSR in the
Cold War. Communism and authoritarianism had taken the place of Hitler, Mussolini, and
Hirohito as the main danger faced by the West. The United States and the USSR were at odds in
a battle of ideology and arms. Both possessed nuclear weapons, and both danced around the
threat of using them on each other.
The United States government and citizens dealt with these problems schizophrenically.
Everything was fine, but the country was in danger. The government instructed people on how
to deal with a nuclear attack, from duck and cover, educational films at school, to building bomb
shelters, while telling them to maintain a normal life and everything was fine. The government
and media reported communists were everywhere, and thus to beware and to be vigilant.
Consumerism was linked with capitalism, and capitalism was linked to democracy, which was
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then linked to freedom. Because one was able to buy and choose from a great number of goods
and number of goods and services, one was free. Consumerism became the concept of freedom
opposed to being economically independent and participating in the give-and-take of democracy.
Not only were Americans free to consume, but also their freedom was brought to them by big
business, and big business was the engine behind the rise of affluence, and the rational of our
superiority over the communists. Profits were not the motive; the freedom of the world hinged
upon consumption. Where once big business was mistrusted and feared, it was now to be
embraced because it was what made us better than the Soviet Union. Big business was sold as
the means to defeat the Soviets and to questions these values of consumption was labeled unAmerican and pro-communist.
Despite the government’s and big business’s endorsement and promotion to consume and
conform, not everyone agreed with the new ideology of America. There was a body of debate,
and blind acceptance of our superiority based on the number of consumer goods we made, had
access to, and used, was considered inhuman, undemocratic and suffocating. These mostly
educated elite did not “buy” into the new mythology of free enterprise and its benefits. Allen
Ginsberg, a poet from the 1950s, wrote of the American society and started his infamous poem
Howl with: “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical
naked… who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of
Capitalism, who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and
undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed then down,… Moloch! Moloch! Robots
apartments! Invisible suburbs! Skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral
nations! Invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!” (Ginsberg 9-19). These
intellectuals felt far from liberated by American compulsion to consume and build arms, but
were strangled by the over-powering expectations of the system. Into this intellectual stew came
Ken Kesey who was one of the dissatisfied residents of the later half of the twentieth century.
He was an all-American, white, middle-class boy, a high school wrestler champion, college
student, and published author of the critically acclaimed book, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s
Nest. He was on top of his world, a respected dissenting voice of his generation, and yet rejected
the expectations of the path before him. He abandoned the 1950s lifestyle, and the unspoken
assumptions of its being the apex of creation. He questioned its rigidness of thinking and goals,
from how one lived, to what one was expected to believe. Men go to school, get a job, get
married, and have children. Citizens supported their government and their leaders
unquestioningly, or else they were not worthy of the country they lived in and were branded a
communist. What one was supposed to do was clear and black and white (you were either on the
bus or off the bus). Why was mass production, mass consumption, the altar upon which one
sacrificed one’s being?
Ken Kesey’s response to the hypocrisy and emptiness he found in the lifestyle and
philosophy of the 1950s sparked a unique response. He did not protest, he did not cry for change
and self-awareness; he did something that spoke of his origins. White, male, middle-class,
educated, and entitled, he refused to participate in it, but he opted out and did his own thing. He
knew that to protest was to be “trapped in the old ‘political games,’ unwittingly supporting the
oppressors by playing their kind of game and using their kind of tactics” (Wolfe 356). Kesey
rejected the Cold War consensus and expectations either way , and instead went on a trip.
He tripped on acid, he tripped onto the Intrepid, he tripped to visit Timothy Leary, he
tripped to Mexico, he tripped into the moment, he tripped into a group state of mind, he tripped
into jail, he tripped into now, he tripped into the counter culture of the later 1950s and the 1960s.
152
“They’re off on their own freak, and it may not look like much, but they’re starting to transcend
the bullshit. There’s this old trinity, Power, Position, Authority, and why should they worship
these old gods and these old forms of authority” (Wolfe 22).
Judging by Tom Wolfe’s book, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Ken Kesey rejected the
mores of the 1950s intensely and in every way possible, he was the anti. “If you label it this,
then it can’t be that… Kesey took great pains not to make his role explicit. He wasn’t the
authority, somebody else was… He wasn’t the leader, he was the ‘non-navigator’” (Wolfe 126).
He did buy into the consensus, and was not going to participate in it. First he moved to La
Honda and lived with a core group of people, which expanded and contracted naturally as events
occurred. The residents of La Honda experimented with drugs, which led them to experiment
with lights, sounds, and perceptions. They followed their inclinations, and they lived for now,
but what was now? Kesey and Wolfe never really said, but the closest Wolfe came to saying
was: “To put it into so many words, to define it, was to limit it. If it’s this, then it can’t be that…
Everyone had his own thing he was working out, but it all fit into the group thing, which was –
“the Unspoken Thing” (126).
If the Cold War and consumer consensus were the engine of the conventional society, the
LSD experience was the catalyst of this new anti-philosophy. It alters the Pranksters, as Kesey
and his followers called themselves and their view of meaning and life. Acid electrified them,
illuminated the world, everything was connected; everything was now, the experience. “The
whole thing was…the experience… this certain indescribable feeling… Indescribable, because
words can only jog the memory, and if there is no memory of… The experience of the barrier
between the subjective and the objective, the personal and the impersonal, the I and the not-I
disappearing… that feeling!” (Wolfe 45). The unity they saw encompassed everything even
time and causality, and they came to understand that “A didn’t cause B just because it came
before B, but was part of a greater pattern” that could be truly understood only by opening the
doors of perception and experiencing it” (Wolfe 142).
It was not just the LSD that produced this awareness. The world was divided into people
who understood and those who did not. You were either on the bus or off the bus and that was
the test, and one did not have to be physically on the bus to be “on the bus”; one did not have to
trip to have these understandings. In Kesey’s living room was a book by Hermann Hesse, The
Journey East, written in 1932, which Wolfe states was a book about the Pranksters and their bus
trip. In the book Hesse describes the experiences of oneness and transformation; Hesse was on
the bus! If Kesey has a legacy it is that this experience is available to everyone. It’s not about
who has the most power, money, or stuff, but about this, this transcendent experience that leads
where it leads: Go, follow it, don’t conform to anything but this experience; that is where your
freedom lies.
Conformity is something humans have done for ages. Humanity’s survival has and will
depend upon it. Conformity also has its downside; automatic pilot is only good as long as the
conditions for which the automatic pilot is set are healthy and relevant. In the 1950s, the anticommunist sentiment reached such heights that the concept of freedom was changed. And,
based as it was on the conformity of mind and body, the consumer society needed to justify its
existence. Not everyone was swept away in the anti-communists consumer life style. In fact
there was a strong counter movement that also redefined freedom, and this redefinition was, “do
your own thing.” Ken Kesey and the Pranksters were free not to participate! The Pranksters
were free to follow their own vision. “What they all saw in… a flash was the solution to the
basic predicament of being human, the personal I, Me, trapped, mortal and helpless, in a vast
153
impersonal It, the world around me. Suddenly! –All-in-one! – flowing together, I into It, and It
into Me, and in that flow I perceive a power, so near and so clear, that the whole world is blind
to” (Wolfe 127-128).
Works Cited
Ginsberg, Allen. Howl and Other Poems. San Francisco: City Light Books, 1959.
Mills, C. Wright. The Power Elite. New York: Oxford University Press, 1956.
Wolfe, Tom. The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. New York: Bantam Books, 1999.
154
Stylistic Changes of Pompeian Floor Mosaics
by Sharon Wussow
(Honors Art 211)
The Assignment: Write an 8-to-10 page, fully cited, MLA format research paper
about an art history topic of your choice from the Ancient through Medieval time
periods, and from the Western region.
T
his analysis explores the reasons underlying the stylistic changes in Pompeian floor
mosaics produced from the second century B.C. through the first century A.D. During this
time the style progressed from artistically simplistic to exquisitely complex to modestly
detailed. The change from highly complex to less detailed at first seems to be a step backwards
because of its diminished intricacy. This examination will show that the latter changes in the
style of Pompeian floor mosaics may be attributed to the efforts of mosaicists to make the people
within the room at ease by avoiding unnaturally placed illusionistic images, and by minimizing
competing wall and floor décor.
Excavation of Pompeii has been going on for more than 250 years. The ancient city,
which was buried by approximately twelve feet of ash and pumice from the eruption of the
volcano Vesuvius in A.D. 79 (Stewart 75), remained hidden for nearly seventeen centuries
before haphazard exploration began in 1748. In the 1860s, a systematic effort of excavation was
instituted. Archeologists began to make casts of the eruption’s victims, introduced a numbering
system for identifying buildings, and adopted the practice of conserving finds in place (WardPerkins and Claridge 11). Two thirds of the buried city has been excavated, and work is still in
progress. Early in the process, excavators removed objects as they were unearthed and moved
them to museums for display. Now archaeologists strive to preserve their findings in their
original resting places in order to present a more accurate depiction of life in Pompeii (Skurdenis
62). Fortunately, as items were removed, the excavators took notes so that today we can
reconstruct the original arrangement (L’Orange and Nordhagen 36).
Various methods of construction were used on the floor mosaics of Pompeii. The means
of decorating a floor date back to the fifth century B.C., and has its roots in Greece, where many
pebble mosaics have been preserved. In these earliest floor mosaics, Turner explains that uncut
pebbles were arranged with some detail in interlocking and overlapping figures (159). This led to
the early method of mosaic construction evident in Pompeii known as opus signinum, defined by
Joyce as “a cement embellished with designs picked out in white marble tesserae” (253). Ling’s
definition, “mortar containing an aggregate of crushed terracotta,” emphasizes the substrate
rather than the design (139). In both cases, the method lacks the precision that becomes apparent
in later techniques. A more exacting method of mosaic construction also found in the earliest
mosaics is opus sectile, a term which Ling uses to describe mosaics in which the “surface
decoration [is] obtained by cutting pieces of stone to special geometric or other shapes” (139).
This method typically fits the pieces of stone closer together than in opus signinum. Opus
tessellatum is a term used to describe any floor mosaic made from tesserae (Ling 7), the cubes of
stone, terra cotta or marble embedded in the cement or mortar (Ling 139). When the tesserae are
155
small and closely packed, they produce complex and subtle effects through juxtapositioning of
colors that merge when viewed from a distance, much as the mixing of pigment in a painting
(Ling 10). When the tesserae undulate around figures in a worm-like fashion, particularly in
highly detailed mosaics such as emblemata, the method is known as opus vermiculatum (Ling
25).
The surviving Pompeian floor mosaics provide a wealth of information about their
construction methods. Turner explains that we rely primarily on the surviving examples of
mosaics for evidence of construction methods with backing from some written and epigraphic
records. Based on this information, she states that “It is generally believed that ancient floor
mosaics were produced in situ” (154). Turner later allows for the exception of “emblemata,
which are inset panels of images or ornamental motifs made of fine, precisely set tesserae that
could be produced in another location. Emblemata were normally preset on trays of stone or
terracotta, which were then embedded in the setting-bed” (155). Ling concurs with Turner,
adding that there is both literary and archaeological evidence that emblemata were manufactured
for export (14).
The styles of Pompeian floor mosaics progressed through distinct phases during their
relatively short history. The earliest examples are geometric designs of white marble tesserae
inlaid in mortar. According to Joyce, the earliest mosaics of Pompeii are of opus signinum with
geometric designs of trellis and cross-star, and of opus sectile in which the pavements are of
irregularly cut stones. Joyce dates these pavements to the third century B.C. by associating them
with “distinctive and datable styles of building construction and wall decoration” (253-4).
Geometric patterns play a major role in Pompeii’s floor mosaics. An early style that
remains in use throughout Pompeii’s history is the use of one or more geometric patterns of
white and black tesserae set in cement mixed with bits of terracotta. The simplest design is an
arrangement of rows covering the entire floor (Figure 1), or surrounding a section with a
different pattern (Figure 2). Nearly as common is the meander pattern, which appears both as a
border (Figure 2) or as a central panel (Figure 3), and the trellis, which is used to cover the whole
floor or the center section (Figure 3). Less frequently used is the imbrication pattern (Figure 2).
These examples demonstrate that the floor mosaics use a limited set of geometric patterns that
are combined in a great variety of ways. Occasionally mosaicists included foliate motifs such as
leaves, vines, and palmettes, with geometric patterns (Joyce 254-5).
The period of First Style wall decoration was concurrent with the production of many
fine emblemata (singular, emblema). These delicate panels, often prefabricated on trays of
marble or terracotta, were installed in the middle of mosaic floors and surrounded with designs
made from coarser material. Highly skilled craftsmen produced sophisticated illusionistic images
using tesserae sometimes as fine as a millimeter in width (Stewart 94). The color scheme of
basic hues of red, yellow, black and white was dictated by the natural colors of the material
(Ling 29). These panels could be constructed in a workshop and even exported. An example of
an emblema which was imported into Pompeii from the East, judging from the signature of
Dioscurides of Samos, an island in the eastern Aegean, is the panel depicting a scene from a
comedy by the Athenian playwright Menander (Figure 4) (Ling 15). At times emblemata were
reused; they were removed from one mosaic pavement and installed in another, sometimes in a
different house. Ward-Perkins gives an example of this practice in the mosaic portrait of a
woman. It was found in the middle of a colorful opus sectile pavement made shortly before the
eruption of Vesuvius, but the emblema is believed to have been made near the end of the first
century B.C. (Figure 5) (138).
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As styles changed, mosaicists became more skillful in producing illusionistic pavements.
One of the most spectacular examples of detailed pictorial mosaics, dating to the late second
century B.C., is the pavement known as the Alexander Mosaic from the exedra of the House of
the Faun, a private residence rivaling some palaces in size (Figures 6, 7, and 8). This mosaic
coupled with the size of the patron’s home left no question about the affluence of the
homeowner, because as Stewart points out, wealth in that day was exhibited not only by the size
of houses, but also by the skill required to execute the mosaics within the houses (97). This
expansive image measuring about 3.13 x 5.82 meters represents the battle between Alexander the
Great and the Persian king Darius III (de Grummond 33). The style and content of the scene lead
most scholars to conclude that the mosaic is a copy of a painting (Stewart 94). The mosaicists
extensively used the technique of opus vermiculatum to achieve a high level of illusionism
including the use of remarkable foreshortening and intricate spatial recession (Turner 160). Some
argue that the mosaic may have been imported from the East as were the Menander emblemata
(Ling 32).
The art of mosaics sustained its pinnacle of intricate emblemata through the first century
B.C., while gradually shifting to a style of less detail. By the beginning of the first century B.C.
mosaicists had long demonstrated superior ability in varied coloring, modeling, perspective and
foreshortening by intricate arrangements of tiny tesserae. Yet, for all the beauty of these highly
detailed pavements, there were dissatisfactions associated with them. The placement of a picture
on the floor caused distortion because of the angle from which people viewed the image. Also,
from most locations within a room, the picture was not seen in an upright orientation. In response
to these challenges, mosaicists began an aesthetic shift away from the use of illusionistic
emblemata. They adopted the use of central abstract images or all-over patterns such as
perspectival cubes in three colors, which could be achieved by the use of tesserae or with larger
pieces using the opus sectile method, as was the case in a pavement in the House of the Faun
(Figure 9) (Ling 32-33).
As floor decoration moved away from the use of colorful figures and began to use black
figures on a white background and monochrome patterns, some pavements were produced that
seemed to straddle the styles. A mosaic from the third quarter of the first century B.C. which
represents this transitional stage is a pavement in the bath suite of the House of the Menander at
Pompeii. This mosaic has both black and colored figures: the people are executed as black
silhouettes, and the sea creatures and plant incorporate some red and grey. The images are
surrounded by borders of the wave-crest and meander patterns (Figure 10). The placing of the
figures on a white background rather than in an illusionistic landscape, plus the change of
orientation among figures, achieved the desired effect of allowing the viewer to see the images as
mere floor decoration (Ling 39-41). Another example of a mosaic which straddles styles is a
pavement that incorporated the now less popular emblema with the newly emerging geometric
pattern of a labyrinth. This mosaic from the House of the Labyrinth (so named because of the
mosaic unearthed there) dates to the early first century B.C. (Figure 11) (Ling 38-39).
Black figures and patterns became the prominent style in the next century. A theme that
was repeatedly used in floor decoration after emblemata fell out of favor was a fierce guard dog
worked in black and white that was usually placed in the vestibule of a house (Figures 12 and
13) (Ling 38-39). L’Orange and Nordhagen point out that this technique is sometimes called
‘black-figured’, a term used in the study of Greek vases, here used to describe black figures on a
white background (38). Joyce explains that some of the new two-dimensional black and white
patterns were translations of designs that were popular in the polychrome mosaics. An example
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is a large central panel of a pattern of intersecting circles (Figure 14) (261). These monochrome
floors were undoubtedly less expensive to make since they used larger tesserae and were greatly
simplified by their basic color scheme. Furthermore, mosaicists developed a method for creating
larger portions of mosaics, such as arms and legs of figures, in their workshops, which allowed
greater prefabrication off site (L’Orange and Nordhagen 38).
To summarize the chronology of changes in Pompeian floor mosaics, they began as
pieces of marble and stone pressed into mortar to create a pattern. In these earliest decorative
pavements, much of the mortar remained exposed. This progressed to more advanced geometric
patterns of black and white tesserae that covered the surface of the mortar. Later, mosaicists used
illusionistic panels in the center of the floors surrounded by polychrome or monochrome
geometric patterns. In some notable cases, the illusionistic area was made so large as to cover the
whole floor. Gradually, floor decoration became more conservative, using all-over lozenge or
geometric patterns of various colors. Lastly, floors returned to black and white designs, this time
incorporating figures in the central area of the floor and bordering the floor with geometric
patterns. The question at hand is why the styles changed in the way they did. There are numerous
opinions on this issue.
Ling sees the change in floor styles as a reaction to the awkwardness of viewing an
illusionistic image on a pavement coupled with the shift to placing illusionistic pictures on the
walls. He observes that by the beginning of the first century B.C., at a time when walls were
decorated in the First Style with plaster worked in blocks to resemble marble, tessera mosaics
had progressed as far as possible in the replication of illusionistic pictures. Mosaicists had
achieved “[v]aried colouring, modeling by light and shade, perspective and foreshortening… by
painstaking arrangements of thousands of tiny pieces of different kinds of stone” (Ling 32).
Although they had produced some illusionistic mosaics that filled entire floors, they usually
restricted this fine work to a small area in the center of a floor, probably due to considerations of
time and money. Ling theorizes that people were not satisfied by the placement of illusionistic
images on floors because in this setting it was difficult to view them to their full advantage (33).
The perspective was distorted by viewing the image from an angle rather than straight-on unless
an individual stood directly above the picture. Also, the images were generally oriented toward
the entrance of a room, meaning that anyone elsewhere in the room saw the picture from the side
or above. Ling furthers his theory by pointing out that “an illusionistic picture, with its capacity
for opening a window into another spatial dimension, is curiously out of keeping with the
function of a floor as the architectural element which should above all seem solid and
impenetrable” (32-33). Ling says that all these reasons led mosaicists to abandon the use of
illusionistic panels in favor of abstract images on a white background that did not require a
particular orientation, or all-over patterns such as a much used design of receding and advancing
cubes shown in perspective (32-33). Ling connects this change in floor decoration styles with the
shift to Second Style wall decorations with their expansive illusionistic paintings, stating that to
use such detail on both the floor and walls would be overwhelming (35).
Joyce implies that mosaicists tired of illusionistic panels after pushing this art to its limit,
and chose to use their increased skills on a new implementation of the ageless geometric style.
Joyce suggests that mosaicists at Pompeii replaced the illusionistic style with its centralized
emblema with monochrome surfaces that were readable from any point of view as an adaptation
to the “architectural milieu” (82-83). Joyce states that other scholars theorize that mosaicists
changed to a black and white floor decoration in order to distinguish the floors from mosaic
walls, but refutes this point of view by arguing that black and white floor mosaics had already
158
become popular when walls were painted. Instead, Joyce argues, after mosaicists recovered from
their initial enthusiasm with illusionistic panels, they returned to their traditional geometric style
but now executed the designs with a tessellated technique and translated illusionistic motifs into
monochromatic patterns (83). In other words, they took their new knowledge and implemented it
on an old style.
Stewart observes, as Ling has, that the floor designs did not mimic wall designs in either
their styles or images, but did seem to change somewhat in step with changes in wall design.
Stewart also notes that the more elaborate illusionistic floor mosaics frequently accompanied the
simpler First Style walls (93-94). Stewart concludes that mosaics served the function of
decorating rooms in a grand or humble style, commenting on the wealth and status of their
owners, while providing a durable and decorative floor. He attests that the variations in their
appearances are the result of different levels of skill as well as different tastes and traditions (97).
Turner sees the shift from the labor intensive emblemata which were installed on site to
the more practical and efficient workshop-produced designs as a means of meeting the demand
for floor mosaics in “houses of every sort.” This could also account for the shift towards
emblema-free designs and the use of fewer colors and larger tesserae (160).
The change in the style of Pompeian floor mosaics from the elaborate illusionistic
emblemata and whole-floor images to the more reserved black figure and geometric designs can
be attributed to several factors all related to making the people within the room more at ease in
the setting. Illusionistic images placed on a floor were disquieting because of the distortion
caused by viewing them at an angle. Furthermore, these detailed pictures had inherent direction,
and were meant to be viewed from a particular place within a room. When people were
anywhere else within the room, which happened frequently, they would see the picture from the
side or the top, which was not optimal. These challenges of distortion and orientation were met
by moving to the use of simpler motifs and figures that were easily interpreted by the viewer
from any angle. Several figures could be scattered across the white background of the floor in
many different orientations, thus making every angle a comfortable one for viewing the design.
Another factor that contributed to this change was the emergence of Second Style wall
decorations. The placement of illusionistic images on both the wall and floor would be
overwhelming, so subduing floor styles eliminated competition between the décor and provided
illusonistic pictures optimal placement on walls. This combination of stylistic changes made
rooms in Pompeian homes a more inviting and visually comfortable place to be.
159
Figures
Figure 1: Pavement in House V 2 showing
rows of dots covering floor
Figure 2: Pavement in House VIII 2,39
showing imbrication in center of floor,
surrounded by meander and dot borders .
(Courtesy German Archaeological Institute, Rome:
Joyce Plate 33)
(Courtesy German Archaeological Institute, Rome:
Joyce Plate 33)
Figure 3: Pavement in House I 6,13 showing
meander pattern in center of floor, with trellis
and dot patterns.
(Courtesy German Archaeological Institute, Rome:
Joyce Plate 33)
160
Figure 4: Imported emblema depicting a scene from a
comedy by the playwright Menander, from Villa of Cicero.
(Getty Research Institute, Research Library, Wim Swaan
Photograph Collection: Ling 15)
Figure 5: Emblema believed to have been
transferred from one floor to another; from a
cubiculum in House VI 15, 14.
(Strüwing Reklamefoto, Birkerod, Denmark:
Ward-Perkins 138)
161
Figure 6: Alexander Mosaic (aka Battle of Issus) from the exedra in the House of the Faun.
(Museo Nazionale, Naples: L’Orange Plate 9c)
Figure 7: Detail of Alexander Mosaic depicting
Alexander the Great.
Figure 8: Detail of Alexander Mosaic
depicting Persian king Darius III.
(Museo Nazionale, Naples: L’Orange Plate 10)
(Museo Nazionale, Naples: L’Orange Plate 11)
162
Figure 9: Perspectival cubes, opus sectile pavement in the House
of the Faun.
(R.J. Ling: Ling 33)
Figure 10: Mosaic floor of the Caldarium
in the House of the Menander; an example
of black figures combined with colored
figures.
Figure 11: Labyrinth mosaic from the House of
the Labyrinth. Emblema shows Theseus killing
the Minotaur.
(Leonard von Matt/Photo Researchers: Brilliant 191)
(German Archaeological Institute, Berlin: Ling 39)
163
Figure 12: Mosaic in the entrance of the House
of the Tragic Poet.
Figure 13: Vestibule mosaic with
guard dog.
(Princeton University, Department of Art and
Archaeology, Antioch Archive: Ling 40)
(Museo Nazionale, Naples: L’Orange Plate 16b)
Figure 14: Intersecting circles; mosaic
pavement in House VIII 2,1.
(Courtesy German Archaeological Institute, Rome:
Joyce Plate 36)
164
Works Cited
“Alexanders Mosaic.” de Grummond, Nancy Thomson, ed. An Encyclopedia of the History of
Classical Archaeology. Vol. 1. Westport: Greenwood, 1996. 33-34.
Brilliant, Richard. Pompeii AD 79: The Treasure of Rediscovery. New York: Clarkson, 1979.
Joyce, Hetty. “Form, Function and Technique in the Pavements of Delos and Pompeii.”
American Journal of Archaeology 83 (1979): 253-263.
Ling, Roger. Ancient Mosaics. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1998.
L’Orange, H. P., and P. J. Nordhagen. Mosaics: From Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages.
London: Methuen, 1966.
Skurdenis, Julie. “The Wrath of Vesuvius: Pompeii and Herculaneum.” Archaeology Mar/Apr
1987: 62+.
Stewart, Peter. Roman Art: New Surveys in the Classics No. 34. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2004.
Turner, Jane, ed. The Dictionary of Art. London: MacMillan, 1996.
Ward-Perkins, John, and Amanda Claridge. Pompeii AD 79. New York: Knopf, 1978.
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