ADDITIONAL ENGLISH
Semester II
Contents
Module 1
I.
To Mother
01
II.
Girl
05
Module 2
III.
100 Love Sonnets
08
IV.
Porphyria’s Lover
11
Module 3
V.
How to Escape from Intellectual Rubbish
16
VI.
Clochette
21
Module 4
VII. Education: Indian and American
27
VIII. The Seven Deadly Sins
31
Module 5
 Advertisement Comprehension
 Group Discussion
 Powerpoint Presentation
Chapter – 1
To Mother
- Usha Navaratnaram
Mother, don’t, please don’t,
Don’t cut off the sunlight
with your saree spread across the sky
blanching life’s green leaves.
Don’t say: You’re seventeen already,
Don’t flash your sari in the street,
Don’t make eyes at passers-by,
Don’t be a tomboy riding the winds.
Don’t play that tune again
That your mother,
her mother and her mother
had played on the snake-charmer’s flute
into the ears of nitwits like me.
I’m just spreading my hood.
I’ll sink my fangs into someone
and lose my venom.
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Let go, make way.
Circumambulating the holy plant
in the yard, making rangoli designs
to see heaven, turning up dead
without light and air,
for god’s sake, I can’t do it.
Breaking out of the dam
you’ve built, swelling
in a thunderstorm,
roaring through the land,
let me live, very different
from you, Mother.
Let go, make way.
Note on The Author
Usha Navaratnaram was born in Bangalore on 23rd November 1939. She published
many articles while she was a student. She was a columnist for English and Kannada
newspapers and an editor for Garikka and Usha newspapers. She served 27 years as a teacher
in Mahila Seva Samaj and took voluntary retirement. Worked in Regional Film Censor Board
for four years. Along with graduation, she studied French and German languages.
Her first novel is 'Hombisilu'. This novel was published in Sudha Weekly. After that,
she wrote novels such as Balidana, Love and see, Sakarana, Bangarada, Amaryu Baraali. Most
of these are movies. Her serials 'Krishna Nee Chili Baro', 'Manye Brindavan', 'Ille Swarga',
'Hosaraga' were aired on television. The serial 'Niranta' aired on e-TV was also based on Usha's
story. Several short stories have also been translated into Tamil, Malayalam, Telugu and
Punjabi languages.
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She has the honour of conducting many children's programs in Kannada and English
on Bangalore Radio. She has received several honorary awards including 'Karnataka
Rajyotsava Award', 'Manushree Award'. Usha died on 1st October 2000.
Note on the Poem
The poem “To Mother” has been written by the Indian poet Usha Navaratnaram and
published in Oxford Anthology of Modern Indian Poetry, New Delhi 1994. The poem is based
on a feminist perspective and is written in narrative style where a daughter is seen pleading to
her mother. The original poem is written in Kannada language but has been translated to
English by AK Ramanujan.
Glossary
•
Tomboy: a girl who behaves in a boyish manner.
•
Nitwit: a stupid incompetent person.
•
Blanching: flinch or grow pale from shock, fear, or a similar emotion.
•
Circumambulating: walking around something.
•
Snake-charmer: an entertainer who exhibits a professed power to charm or fascinate
venomous snakes.
•
Rangoli: traditional Indian decoration and patterns made with ground rice, particularly
during festivals.
Comprehension Questions
1. What does the word “sunlight” stand for in the poem and why the daughter is asking
her mother not to spread her saree?
2. What is the attitude of the daughter towards her mother in the poem “To Mother”?
3. Why does the poet compare her mother to the winter moon?
4. Do you think the mother is purposely being unfair towards her daughter and the
daughter by using the words, “Let go, make way.” trying to address her mother? If yes,
then tell why.
5. Write a critical appreciation of the poem “To Mother.”
6. What is the theme of the poem “To Mother?”
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7. Elucidate the portrayal of women with reference to the poem “To Mother.”
♦♦♦♦♦
4
Chapter – 2
Girl
- Jamaica Kincaid
Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap; wash the colour clothes on
Tuesday and put them on the clothesline to dry; don’t walk bare-head in the hot sun; cook
pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil; soak your little cloths right after you take them off;
when buying cotton to make yourself a nice blouse, be sure that it doesn’t have gum in it,
because that way it won’t hold up well after a wash; soak salt fish overnight before you cook
it; is it true that you sing benna in Sunday school?; always eat your food in such a way that it
won’t turn someone else’s stomach; on Sundays try to walk like a lady and not like the slut
you are so bent on becoming; don’t sing benna in Sunday school; you mustn’t speak to wharfrat boys, not even to give directions; don’t eat fruits on the street—flies will follow you; but I
don’t sing benna on Sundays at all and never in Sunday school; this is how to sew on a button;
this is how to make a buttonhole for the button you have just sewed on; this is how to hem a
dress when you see the hem coming down and so to prevent yourself from looking like the
slut I know you are so bent on becoming; this is how you iron your father’s khaki shirt so that
it doesn’t have a crease; this is how you iron your father’s khaki pants so that they don’t have
a crease; this is how you grow okra—far from the house, because okra tree harbours red ants;
when you are growing dasheen, make sure it gets plenty of water or else it makes your throat
itch when you are eating it; this is how you sweep a corner; this is how you sweep a whole
house; this is how you sweep a yard; this is how you smile to someone you don’t like too
much; this is how you smile to someone you don’t like at all; this is how you smile to someone
you like completely; this is how you set a table for tea; this is how you set a table for dinner;
this is how you set a table for dinner with an important guest; this is how you set a table for
lunch; this is how you set a table for breakfast; this is how to behave in the presence of men
who don’t know you very well, and this way they won’t recognize immediately the slut I have
warned you against becoming; be sure to wash every day, even if it is with your own spit; don’t
squat down to play marbles—you are not a boy, you know; don’t pick people’s flowers—you
might catch something; don’t throw stones at blackbirds, because it might not be a blackbird
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at all; this is how to make a bread pudding; this is how to make doukona; this is how to make
pepper pot; this is how to make a good medicine for a cold; this is how to make a good medicine
to throw away a child before it even becomes a child; this is how to catch a fish; this is how to
throw back a fish you don’t like, and that way something bad won’t fall on you; this is how to
bully a man; this is how a man bullies you; this is how to love a man, and if this doesn’t work
there are other ways, and if they don’t work don’t feel too bad about giving up; this is how to
spit up in the air if you feel like it, and this is how to move quick so that it doesn’t fall on you;
this is how to make ends meet; always squeeze bread to make sure it’s fresh; but what if the
baker won’t let me feel the bread?; you mean to say that after all you are really going to be the
kind of woman who the baker won’t let near the bread?
Note on the Author
Jamaica Kincaid, whose real name is Elaine Potter Richardson, was born on May 25,
1949, in St. John's, Antigua. She is a Caribbean American author whose essays, short tales, and
novels vividly capture her native Antigua and her family dynamics. Using life to inspire fiction,
Kincaid often explores the complexity of mother-daughter relationships, alienation, and the
after effects of colonialism.
Note on the Lesson
The short story Girl by Jamaica Kincaid has a contemporary, unconventional structure,
as demonstrated by an examination of the work. The narrative opens with a mother giving her
daughter a list of instructions and opinions. The mother and girl are the two characters in the
short narrative. The story delves into the detrimental gender roles and expectations imposed on
young girls as they enter womanhood.
Glossary
•
Benna: Traditional music from Antigua and Barbuda that is similar to Calypso.
•
Wharf: A level quayside area where a ship can be moored to load and unload
cargo.
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•
Wharf-rat boys: A person who loafs or sometimes lives near docks with the
intent of stealing from ships or warehouses.
•
Dasheen: a tropical Asian plant of the arum family with edible starchy corms
and edible fleshy leaves, particularly a variety with a large central corm that is
cultivated as a staple in the Pacific.
•
Doukona: In Jamaica, it is known as dokunoo, dokono, or dokunu; in West
Africa, it is known as kenkey, and in Guyana, it is known as konkee. The dish
is a pudding made from a variety of starches, including cornmeal, cassava,
plantain, and green banana. The starch is boiled while wrapped in a banana leaf.
Comprehension Questions
1. Discuss the central theme of the short story “Girl” by Jamaica Kincaid.
2. Highlight the tone of the narrator in the short story.
3. What aspect of the mother-daughter relationship is emphasized in the short story?
4. The short story “Girl” reinforces that women’s role in life is to abide by the prevalent
convention of society. Pick instances from the poem to justify the statement.
5. The theme of the short story is strongly suggestive that women should act in a certain
way. Discuss the feminist point of view in the short story.
6. In the short story “Girl” by Jamaica Kincaid, the mother has been shown as the
dominant figure in the young girl’s upbringing. Discuss instances from the short story
to justify your response.
7. The short story “Girl” explores themes of sexual reputation, domesticity and the
complexity of the mother/daughter relationship. Elaborate.
Suggested Reading
1. Autobiography of My Mother (poem) by Jamaica Kincaid.
♦♦♦♦♦
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Chapter – 3
100 Love Sonnets: XVII
-Pablo Neruda
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
Note on the Poet
Pablo Neruda was born in Parral, Chile. His father opposed his interest in writing and literature,
but Neruda was already working as a journalist and writer when he was 16. In 1921 he moved
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to Santiago to study French at the University there, but he soon began to devote himself to
poetry full-time. Though Neruda made a name for himself as a poet, he remained poor, so he
began working as a diplomat in Asia and Europe. He was also a senator for the Communist
Party of Chile.
In 1921 Pablo Neruda published the poetry collection titled Veinte Poemas de Amor y una
Canción Desperada (Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair). This established him as a
prominent poet of love and erotica. Official journeys as a diplomat in Asia affected Neruda
strongly, which is reflected in two volumes of poems titled Residencia en la Tierra (1933 and
1935) (Residence on Earth). Neruda’s Communist sympathies are clear in the work Canto
General (1939), an epic poem about the whole South American continent.
Note on the Text
"One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII" is a sonnet by Pablo Neruda. It is considered one of
Neruda's most famous works and speaks of his love for his third wife, Matilde. It was originally
published in Cien sonetos de amor (100 Love Sonnets) (1959) as the seventeenth sonnet out of
one hundred sonnets.
Glossary
•
Topaz: a precious stone, typically colourless, yellow, or pale blue, consisting of an
aluminium silicate that contains fluorine.
•
Carnation: a double-flowered cultivated variety of clove pink, with grey-green leaves
and showy pink, white, or red flowers.
•
Aroma: a distinctive, typically pleasant smell
Comprehension Questions
1. What are the comparisons that Neruda makes in Sonnet XVII?
2. How does Neruda explain the union of souls?
3. “I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,” Elaborate on
Neruda’s expression of love in Sonnet XVII.
4. Where does love reside according to Neruda in Sonnet XVII?
5. Analyse the theme of Sonnet XVII?
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6. How does love according to Neruda in Sonnet XVII differ from the definition of love
in Robert Browning’s Porphyria’s Lover?
7. Interpret the imagery used by Neruda in Sonnet XVII.
8. How is Neruda’s observation of his beloved different from stereotypical
representations of love?
♦♦♦♦♦
10
Chapter – 4
Porphyria’s Lover
- Robert Browning
The rain set early in to-night,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
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And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me — she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me for ever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last, I knew
Porphyria worshipped me; surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
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I warily open her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before,
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus, we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!
Note on the Poet
Robert Browning (1812-1889) was an English poet and playwright. His skill at writing
dramatic monologues made him one of the best Victorian poets. His poems are known for their
irony, characters, dark humour, social commentary, historical settings, difficult vocabulary and
syntax.
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Note on the Poem
The poem "Porphyria's Lover" by Robert Browning starts with a classic scene: a stormy
night. It's about a man who is wildly odd and lovesick. Porphyria, his lady love, arrives at his
home in the pouring rain and lights the fireplace to keep warm. Soon after, she starts cuddling
up to her beloved, letting him finally understand how much she loves him.
Glossary
•
Sullen- angry and gloomy
•
Vex- aggravate, irritate, or worry (someone), especially about unimportant issues
•
Dissever - sever or separate (something)
•
Warily - cautiously; with care
•
Scorned - exhibit or demonstrate contempt
Comprehension Questions
1. Discuss the central theme of the poem Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning.
2. Highlight the tone of the speaker in the poem Porphyria's Lover.
3. What is the irony in the poem Porphyria's Lover?
4. Throw light on the aspects of love and its consequences as expressed in the poem
Porphyria’s Lover by Browning.
5. Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning highlights the aspect of objectification of
women. Discuss.
6. Porphyria's Lover is a poem about control. Justify your response based on your
reading of the poem.
7. The poem Porphyria's Lover explores the theme of love, murder and intrigue.
Elaborate.
8. Critically analyse the themes of love and sin in the poem Porphyria's Lover.
9. The speaker is in love with Porphyria to the point where he wants to be with her
forever. Critically reflect on the repercussions of obsessive love as depicted in the
poem.
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Suggested Reading:
1. My Last Duchess (poem) by Robert Browning.
♦♦♦♦♦
15
Chapter – 5
How to Escape from Intellectual Rubbish
-
Bertrand Russell
To avoid the various foolish opinions to which mankind are prone, no superhuman genius is
required. A few simple rules will keep you, not from all error, but from silly error.
If the matter is one that can be settled by observation, make the observation yourself. Aristotle
could have avoided the mistake of thinking that women have fewer teeth than men, by the
simple device of asking Mrs Aristotle to keep her mouth open while he counted. He did not do
so because he thought he knew. Thinking that you know when in fact you don’t is a fatal
mistake, to which we are all prone. I believe myself that hedgehogs eat black beetles, because
I have been told that they do; but if I were writing a book on the habits of hedgehogs, I should
not commit myself until I had seen one enjoying this unappetizing diet. Aristotle, however,
was less cautious. Ancient and medieval authors knew all about unicorns and salamanders, not
one of them thought it necessary to avoid dogmatic statements about them because he had never
seen one of them.
Many matters, however, are less easily brought to the test of experience. If, like most of
mankind, you have passionate convictions on many such matters, there are ways in which you
can make yourself aware of your own bias. If an opinion contrary to your own makes you
angry, that is a sign that you are subconsciously aware of having no good reason for thinking
as you do. If someone maintains that two and two are five, or that Iceland is on the equator,
you feel pity rather than anger, unless you know so little of arithmetic or geography that his
opinion shakes your own contrary conviction. The most savage controversies are those about
matters as to which there is no good evidence either way... so whenever you find yourself
getting angry about a difference of opinion, be on your guard; you will probably find, on
examination, that your belief is going beyond what the evidence warrants.
A good way of ridding yourself of certain kinds of dogmatism is to become aware of opinions
held in social circles different from your own. When I was young, I lived much outside my
own country-in France, Germany, Italy and the United States. I found this very profitable in
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diminishing the intensity of insular prejudice. If you cannot travel, seek out people with whom
you disagree, and read a newspaper belonging to a party that is not yours. If the people and the
newspaper seem mad, perverse and wicked, remind yourself that you seem so to them. In this
opinion both parties may be right, but they cannot both be wrong. This reflection should
generate a certain caution.
Becoming aware of foreign customs, however, does not always have a beneficial effect. In the
seventeenth century, when the Manchus conquered China, it was the custom among the
Chinese for the woman to have small feet, and among the Manchus for the men to wear pigtails.
Instead of each dropping their own foolish custom, they each adopted the foolish custom of the
other, and the Chinese continued to wear pigtails until they shook off the dominion of the
Manchus in the revolution of 1911.
For those who have enough psychological imagination, it is a good plan to imagine an
argument with a person having a different bias. This has one advantage, and only one, as
compared with actual conversation with opponents; this one advantage is that the method is
not subject to the same limitations of time and space. Mahatma Gandhi deplored railways and
steamboats and machinery; he would have liked to undo the whole of the industrial revolution.
You may never have an opportunity of actually meeting anyone who holds this opinion,
because in Western countries most people take the advantage of modern technique for granted.
But if you want to make sure that you are right in agreeing with the prevailing opinion, you
will find it a good plan to test the arguments that occur to you by considering what Gandhi
might have said in refutation of them. I have sometimes been led actually to change my mind
as a result of this kind of imaginary dialogue, and, short of this, I have frequently found myself
growing less dogmatic and cocksure through realising the possible reasonableness of a
hypothetical opponent.
Be very wary of opinions that flatter your self-esteem. Both men and women, nine times out
of ten, are firmly convinced of the superior excellence of their own sex. There is abundant
evidence on both sides. If you are a man, you can point out that most poets and men of science
are male; if you are a woman, you can retort that so are most criminals. The question is
inherently insoluble, but self- esteem conceals this from most people. We are all, whatever part
of the world we come from, persuaded that our own nation is superior to all others. Seeing that
each nation has its characteristic merits and demerits, we adjust our standard of values so as to
make out that the merits possessed by our nation are the really important ones, while its
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demerits are comparatively trivial. Here, again, the rational man will admit that the question is
one to which there is no demonstrably right answer. It is more difficult to deal with the selfesteem of man as man, because we cannot argue out the matter with some non- human mind.
The only way I know of dealing with this general human conceit is to remind ourselves that
man is a brief episode in the life of a small planet in a little corner of the universe, and that for
aught we know, other parts of the cosmos may contain beings as superior to ourselves as we
are to jelly-fish.
Other passions besides self- esteem are common sources of error. Of these perhaps the most
important is fear. Fear sometimes operates directly, by inventing rumours of disaster in wartime, or by imagining objects of terror, such as ghosts; sometimes it operates indirectly, by
creating belief in something comforting, such as the elixir of life, or heaven for ourselves and
hell for our enemies. Fear has many forms-fear of death, fear of the dark, fear of the unknown,
and that vague generalised fear that comes to those who conceal from themselves their more
specific terrors. Until you have admitted your own fears to yourself, and have guarded yourself
by a difficult effort of will against their myth-making power, you cannot hope to think truly
about many matters of great importance, especially those with which religious beliefs are
concerned. Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty. To
conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom, in the pursuit of truth as in the endeavour after a
worthy manner of life.
There are two ways of avoiding fear: one is by persuading ourselves that we are immune from
disaster, and the other is by the practice of sheer courage. The latter is difficult, and to
everybody becomes impossible at a certain point. The former has, therefore, always been more
popular. Primitive magic has the purpose of securing safety, either by injuring enemies or by
protecting oneself by talismans, spells, or incantations. Without any essential change, belief in
such ways of avoiding danger survived throughout the many centuries of Babylonian
civilisation, spread from Babylon throughout the Empire of Alexander, and was acquired by
the Romans in the course of their absorption of Hellenic culture. From the Romans it descended
to medieval Christendom and Islam. Science has now lessened the belief in magic, but many
people more faith in mascots than they are willing to avow and sorcery, while condemned by
the Church, is still officially a possible sin.
Magic, however, was a crude way of avoiding terrors, and, moreover, not a very effective way,
for wicked magicians might always prove stronger than good ones. In the fifteenth, sixteenth,
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and seventeenth centuries, dregs of witches and sorcerers’ sea to the burning of hundreds of
thousands convicted of these crimes. But never beliefs, particularly as to the future life, sought
more effective ways of combating fear.
Note on the Author
Bertrand Russell (1872 — 1970) was born in Trelleck, Monmouthshire, England. He
studied at Trinity College, Cambridge after being educated at home. He was a lecturer in
London. John Hopkins and Cambridge Universities.
In 1908 he was made a Fellow of the Royal Society. He protested against the World
War and was imprisoned for being a conscientious objector. He travelled throughout Russia,
China, Japan and the USA. He started a school where he was a headmaster and his wife Dora
was headmistress. In 1950 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.
Note on the Text
Russell establishes in this essay that folly is not unusual, either in time or space. All
Civilizations have had several superstitions, which led to cruelty and persecution. He gives a
few examples of what is to be avoided and what can be done to remain happy.
Glossary
•
Unappetizing: not attractive as food
•
Unicorns and salamanders: imaginary creatures mentioned in ancient fables and legends
•
Insular: narrow-minded
•
Manchus: people of Tungus stock in East Asia. They were tall and had regular features,
unlike the native Chinese. They settled in the area that is now called Manchuria.
•
Hypothetical: imaginary
•
Elixir of life: chemical preparation which was supposed to prolong life.
•
Talismans: charms worn by superstitious people.
•
Babylonian: Babylon was the capital of the ancient Chaldean empire. the reference is to
the advanced civilization.
•
Hellenistic: Greek
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Comprehension Questions
1. What are the two ways of avoiding fear?
2. What is the advantage of observing things for oneself?
3. How can you make yourself aware of your own biases?
4. Why is magic not an effective way of avoiding terrors?
5. Why is it good to imagine an argument with someone having a different idea?
6. What does Russell say about fear?
7. What does Russell say about the effectiveness of magic?
8. What are the methods suggested by Russell to avoid dogmatism?
9. What is Russell’s advice for ‘diminishing the intensity of insular prejudice’?
♦♦♦♦♦
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Chapter - 6
Clochette
- Guy de
Maupassant
How strange those old recollections are which haunt us, without our being able to get rid of
them. This one is so very old that I cannot understand how it has clung so vividly and
tenaciously to my memory. Since then, I have seen so many sinister things, which were either
affecting or terrible, that I am astonished at not being able to pass a single day without the face
of Mother Bellflower recurring to my mind’s eye, just as I knew her formerly, now so long ago,
when I was ten or twelve years old.
She was an old seamstress who came to my parents’ house once a week, every Thursday, to
mend the linen. My parents lived in one of those country houses called chateaux, which are
merely old houses with gable roofs, to which are attached three or four farms lying around
them.
The village, a large village, almost a market town, was a few hundred yards away, closely
circling the church, a red brick church, black with age.
Well, every Thursday Mother Clochette came between half-past six and seven in the morning,
and went immediately into the linen-room and began to work. She was a tall, thin, bearded or
rather hairy woman, for she had a beard all over her face, a surprising, an unexpected beard,
growing in improbable tufts, in curly bunches which looked as if they had been sown by a
madman over that great face of a gendarme in petticoats. She had them on her nose, under her
nose, round her nose, on her chin, on her cheeks; and her eyebrows, which were extraordinarily
thick and long, and quite Gray, bushy and bristling, looked exactly like a pair of moustaches
stuck on there by mistake.
She limped, not as lame people generally do, but like a ship at anchor. When she planted her
great, bony, swerving body on her sound leg, she seemed to be preparing to mount some
enormous wave, and then suddenly she dipped as if to disappear in an abyss, and buried herself
in the ground. Her walk reminded one of a storm, as she swayed about, and her head, which
was always covered with an enormous white cap, whose ribbons fluttered down her back,
seemed to traverse the horizon from north to south and from south to north, at each step.
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I adored Mother Clochette. As soon as I was up, I went into the linen- room where I found her
installed at work, with a foot-warmer under her feet. As soon as I arrived, she made me take
the foot-warmer and sit upon it, so that I might not catch cold in that large, chilly room under
the roof.
“That draws the blood from your throat,” she said to me.
She told me stories, whilst mending the linen with her long crooked nimble fingers; her eyes
behind her magnifying spectacles, for age had impaired her sight, appeared enormous to me,
strangely profound, double.
She had, as far as I can remember the things which she told me and by which my childish heart
was moved, the large heart of a poor woman. She told me what had happened in the village,
how a cow had escaped from the cow-house and had been found the next morning in front of
Prosper Malet’s windmill, looking at the sails turning, or about a hen’s egg which had been
found in the church belfry without any one being able to understand what creature had been
there to lay it, or the story of Jean-Jean Pila’s dog, who had been ten leagues to bring back his
master’s breeches which a tramp had stolen whilst they were hanging up to dry out of doors,
after he had been in the rain. She told me these simple adventures in such a manner, that in my
mind they assumed the proportions of never-to-be -forgotten dramas, of grand and mysterious
poems; and the ingenious stories invented by the poets which my mother told me in the evening,
had none of the flavour, none of the breadth or vigour of the peasant woman’s narratives.
Well, one Tuesday, when I had spent all the morning in listening to Mother Clochette, I wanted
to go upstairs to her again during the day after picking hazelnuts with the manservant in the
wood behind the farm. I remember it all as clearly as what happened only yesterday.
On opening the door of the linen-room, I saw the old seamstress lying on the ground by the
side of her chair, with her face to the ground and her arms stretched out, but still holding her
needle in one hand and one of my shirts in the other. One of her legs in a blue stocking, the
longer one, no doubt, was extended under her chair, and her spectacles glistened against the
wall, as they had rolled away from her.
I ran away uttering shrill cries. They all came running, and in a few minutes, I was told that
Mother Clochette was dead.
22
I cannot describe the profound, poignant, terrible emotion which stirred my childish heart. I
went slowly down into the drawing-room and hid myself in a dark corner, in the depths of an
immense old armchair, where I knelt down and wept. I remained there a long time, no doubt,
for night came on. Suddenly somebody came in with a lamp, without seeing me, however, and
I heard my father and mother talking with the medical man, whose voice I recognized.
He had been sent for immediately, and he was explaining the causes of the accident, of which
I understood nothing, however. Then he sat down and had a glass of liqueur and a biscuit.
He went on talking, and what he then said will remain engraved on my mind until I die! I think
that I can give the exact words which he used.
“Ah!” said he, “the poor woman! She broke her leg the day of my arrival here, and I had not
even had time to wash my hands after getting off the diligence before I was sent for in all haste,
for it was a bad case, very bad.
“She was seventeen, and a pretty girl, very pretty! Would anyone believe it? I have never told
her story before, and nobody except myself and one other person who is no longer living in
this part of the country ever knew it. Now that she is dead, I may be less discreet.
“Just then a young assistant-teacher came to live in the village; he was a handsome, well-made
fellow, and looked like a non-commissioned officer. All the girls ran after him, but he paid no
attention to them, partly because he was very much afraid of his superior, the schoolmaster,
old Grabu, who occasionally got out of bed the wrong foot first.
“Old Grabu already employed pretty Hortense who has just died here, and who was afterwards
nicknamed Clochette. The assistant master singled out the pretty young girl, who was, no
doubt, flattered at being chosen by this impregnable conqueror; at any rate, she fell in love with
him, and he succeeded in persuading her to give him a first meeting in the hay- loft behind the
school, at night, after she had done her day’s sewing.
“She pretended to go home, but instead of going downstairs when she left the Grabus’ she went
upstairs and hid among the hay, to wait for her lover. He soon joined her, and was beginning
to say pretty things to her, when the door of the hay-loft opened and the schoolmaster appeared,
and asked: ‘What are you doing up there, Sigisbert?’ Feeling sure that he would be caught, the
23
young schoolmaster lost his presence of mind and replied stupidly: ‘I came up here to rest a
little amongst the bundles of hay, Monsieur Grabu.’
“The loft was very large and absolutely dark, and Sigisbert pushed the frightened girl to the
further end and said: ‘Go over there and hide yourself. I shall lose my position, so get away
and hide yourself.’
“When the schoolmaster heard the whispering, he continued: ‘Why, you are not by yourself?’
‘Yes, I am, Monsieur Grabu!’ ‘But you are not, for you are talking.’ ‘I swear I am, Monsieur
Grabu.’ ‘I will soon find out,’ the old man replied, and double locking the door, he went down
to get a light.
“Then the young man, who was a coward such as one frequently meets, lost his head, and
becoming furious all of a sudden, he repeated: ‘Hide yourself, so that he may not find you. You
will keep me from making a living for the rest of my life; you will ruin my whole career. Do
hide yourself!’ They could hear the key turning in the lock again, and Hortense ran to the
window which looked out on the street, opened it quickly, and then said in a low and
determined voice: ‘You will come and pick me up when he is gone,’ and she jumped out.
“Old Grabu found nobody, and went down again in great surprise, and a quarter of an hour
later, Monsieur Sigisbert came to me and related his adventure. The girl had remained at the
foot of the wall unable to get up, as she had fallen from the second story, and I went with him
to fetch her. It was raining in torrents, and I brought the unfortunate girl home with me, for the
right leg was broken in three places, and the bones had come through the flesh. She did not
complain, and merely said, with admirable resignation: ‘I am punished, well punished!’
“I sent for assistance and for the work-girl’s relatives and told them a, made-up story of a
runaway carriage which had knocked her down and lamed her outside my door. They believed
me, and the gendarmes for a whole month tried in vain to find the author of this accident.
“That is all! And I say that this woman was a heroine and belonged to the race of those who
accomplish the grandest deeds of history.
24
“That was her only love affair, and she died a virgin. She was a martyr, a noble soul, a sublimely
devoted woman! And if I did not absolutely admire her, I should not have told you this story,
which I would never tell anyone during her life; you understand why.”
The doctor ceased. Mamma cried and papa said some words which I did not catch; then they
left the room and I remained on my knees in the armchair and sobbed, whilst I heard a strange
noise of heavy footsteps and something knocking against the side of the staircase.
They were carrying away Clochette’s body.
Note on the Author
One of the greatest French writers of the nineteenth century, Guy de Maupassant was a master
of the short story form. He depicted human lives often in a pessimistic and disillusioned way.
He wrote in the naturalist style and described the lower- and middle-class lives in his stories.
He is particularly remembered for his depictions of the trials and tribulations found in everyday
life.
Note on the Short Story
Published in 1886, Guy de Maupassant’s “Clochette”, gives the readers a lengthy description
of Mother Clochette. Clochette was an old dressmaker who used to arrive at the narrator’s
house every week to do the mending. She was tall, thin, bearded and walked with a limp. The
narrator loved her and she used to tell him stories. Like every Tuesday, the narrator goes
upstairs to listen to Mother Clochette. That day, the narrator finds her lying on the ground. The
doctor, who came to certify the death, tells us the story of the beautiful Hortense who was later
baptized Clochette, after her accident. When young she had fallen in love with the
schoolmaster. They would have been discovered in the hayloft by the headmaster but for
Clochette who jumped out of the loft resulting in a broken leg. The schoolmaster did not marry
her and she died an unmarried woman.
Glossary
•
Seamstress: a woman who sews, especially one who earns her living by sewing.
25
•
Gendarme: a paramilitary police officer in France and other French-speaking
countries.
•
Sinister: harmful, evil, menacing.
•
Abyss: a deep or seemingly bottomless pit.
•
Belfry: a structure enclosing bells for ringing as part of a building.
Comprehension Questions
1. What is Clochette’s real name and how did she get it?
2. Who was the schoolmaster who scared his subordinates?
3. Why was the narrator fond of Clochette?
4. What was Clochette’s response after she had fallen from the loft and broken her leg?
5. Narrate the incident which led to Clochette’s limp.
6. Why did the doctor call Clochette a martyr?
7. Describe the stories of adventure narrated by Clochette.
8. How does Maupassant describe Sigisbert?
9. Discuss Guy de Maupassant’s “Clochette” as a story of sacrifice and suffering.
10. How does Maupassant portray Clochette in the short story?
♦♦♦♦♦
26
Chapter – 7
Education: Indian and American
- Anurag Mathur
Back in college, Gopal devoted himself to his work. Though he knew it was an illusion, he
thought he sensed his mind flower and the system of education had drilled his mind and beaten
it until it was tight, rigid mass laid upon the fundamentals of science that has been dug deep
until they sank into his subconscious mind. Now from this unshakable base, he was able to
make sorties that his American colleagues couldn't imagine trying, unsure as they were about
the basics.
I came out of India at the right time, he felt. He had got the best of an educational system where
the early years instilled Discipline and the basics, but the subsequent repetition of the same
crippled minds that were ready to take off. In America he found encouragement, yet
simultaneously he found that the American students seemed unable to utilize the truly
astonishing opportunities that their educational system offered at the higher levels.
He found himself studying late in the library, staying even later in the laboratory, not because
he wanted higher grades, but because he was enjoying it. He felt that his grasp over his subject
had become so thorough, that he was able to go back to the fundamentals, to those dragons of
his earlier days, and look at them with a new eye. Why were they constructed as they were?
What was the intent and what the result? Could they be improved upon? Such questioning
would have been heresy to his Indian teachers, a scandal. But they had done their job and Gopal
had left them behind. He often considered amusedly with what horror they would react to his
questions and the view-points he held now. But now he thought of them, the giants of his
childhood, as dusty, shrunken old men with barred minds.
Here, he exulted, they loved question. They didn't care if they were insane, in fact the crazier
the better, so long as they were also intelligent. Even the students, astonishingly, didn't seem
to resent his clearly superior abilities. At least, he amended, most of them didn't. They said they
enjoyed his sallies and they spoke to him, asked to study with him and expressed their
admiration to him with a frankness that was staggering, yet deeply touching. Initially, he so
27
incredulous at their straightforward talk that he suspected they were being sarcastic. But very
quickly he realized they were transparently honest.
In India, he signed with real pain, we could write the definitive book on envy. For centuries
outsiders had exploited this fatal flaw, using it to divide and rule. And even today, rumours of
a person's success caused demonic leaps of fury in the breasts of nearly everyone who heard
about it. The immediate response was to either belittle him, or, if possible, to find ways to
actively impede him. Using a simple contrast, Gopal suspected he received more compliments
in one month in America on his abilities and his work, than he had received in all his life in
India put together.
And then they wonder why there's a brain drain" he thought. It wasn't often any longer out of
a desire for a more comfortable life in America-in India an affluent person usually lived better
than one in America-but it was also for the sheer bliss of a friendly, supportive, well-equipped,
encouraging work environment. It could be to get away from the fierce, eternal, allencompassing hatred with which colleagues in India battled each other and everybody else,
usually for no discernible reason other than habit. Transplanted to America, however, they were
transformed into paragons of efficiency and tolerance, mused Gopal.
He closed his book as the lights in the library began to be turned on and off as a sign it was
closing. As he stepped out into the night, the wind seemed to have a colder thrust to it than
usual. He had hardly walked fifty feet when he felt a soft white dandelion rest on his cheek. He
brushed it away and to his surprise it felt cold. He looked up and there were many of them
floating gently downward. They looked like the little blossoms of a tree, but when they touched
him, they turned to water.
Snow, Gopal thought with a shock. Goodness me, they are having snow. He had never seen
snow before in photographs where it lay like the skin of some dead white beast on the ground.
He had not realized that it danced with such joy through the air, with the beauty of a ballet
dancer. Its touch upon him was hesitant as a child's. And a Gopal raced under each flake trying
to catch in his mouth, he could have sworn each was alive as it playfully evaded him and settled
on his hair or his coat. One enterprising fellow made his way on the back and rested there for
quite a while.
Gopal ran about, his ungainly legs pumping furiously, trying to swallow as many snowflakes
as he could. It wasn't easy. Some bumped into his nose, another on his jaw, but it was
28
exhilarating. He dashed about, his overcoat flapping, sucking in the air so clean and clear that
it felt like a miraculous new drink. He snapped at a flake, leaping up for it, and his teeth clicked
on themselves. A flake fell on his eye and stung. He blinked, trying to clear it and then brushed
his sleeve over the eye.
When he could see again, he saw with embarrassment that one of the security guards was sitting
nearby on his scooter and had been obviously watching him for some time. He was a burly,
cheerful, red-faced man and Gopal wondered what he made of the sight of a foreign student
leaping like a deer at midnight on the lawn, attacking snowflakes.
About the Author
Anurag Mathur is an Indian novelist and journalist, popularly known for this widely
acclaimed novel The Inscrutable Americans (1991), which is also considered to be his bestknown work. He did his schooling at Scindia School (Gwalior, India). He graduated from St.
Stephen's College, Delhi, and did his master's from the University of Tulsa. His other works
are Making the Minister Smile, Are All Women Leg-Spinners asked the Stephanian (later
republished as The Department of Denials), Scenes from an Executive Life, 22 Days in India,
A Life Lived Later – Poems.
About the Text
The essay "Education: Indian and American” is an excerpt from the novel "The
Inscrutable American". It contrasts the two education systems of India and America while
describing the journey of a small-town boy, Gopal, to the United States to pursue his higher
education. The essay also critically examines the disparity in ethos between the two cultures as
well as how easily expats adjust to improved working conditions in a foreign country.
Glossary
•
Illusion: A false idea of belief
•
Retention: An action of retaining
•
Sallies: An intelligent remark intended to amuse people
•
Impede: To make it difficult for someone or something to make progress.
•
Paragons: Someone who is perfect or extremely brave, good, etc.
•
Sorties: An attempt to do or take part in something new
29
•
Soft white Dandelion: A wild plant with a bright yellow flower
Comprehension questions
1. What has the Indian system of education done to Gopal's mind?
2. What was the American teachers’ attitude towards Gopal’s questioning?
3. Why does he feel that he ‘had come out of India at the right time’?
4. Why did he study late in the library and laboratory?
5. Write a note on Gopal's first encounter with snow and narrate his excitement about seeing
snowflakes and his inhibition and embarrassment at being watched by a guard.
6. What were the American student’s responses to Gopal’s enthusiasm and curiosity?
7. Why did Gopal find himself better off than his American counterparts and what was
lacking in the American students?
8. What was one major quality that hindered the progress of Indians and how did they react
to success?
9. What is the difference between the Indian and American education systems and how
Indian education system benefits Gopal in America? Discuss.
10. What was the reason for the brain drain? Elaborate on the shift in attitude in the Indian
mind while in India and America.
Suggested Reading
1. The Inscrutable Americans by Anurag Mathur
2. https://hlg7.weebly.com/uploads/8/0/4/2/80420234/education.pdf
3. https://www.the-criterion.com/V4/n1/Patil.pdf
4. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Inscrutable_Americans
♦♦♦♦♦
30
Chapter – 8
The Seven Deadly Sins
(Excerpt from Dr Faustus)
- Christopher Marlowe
Scene VI
Enter FAUSTUS in his study and MEPHOSTOPHILIS
FAU. When I behold the heavens, then I repent
And curse thee, wicked Mephostophilis,
Because thou hast depriv’d me of those joys.
MEPH. ’Twas thine own seeking, Faustus, thank thyself.
But think’st thou heaven is such a glorious thing?
I tell thee, Faustus, it is not half so fair
As thou or any man that breathes on earth.
FAU. How prov’st thou that?
MEPH. ’Twas made for man; then he’s more excellent.
FAU. If heaven was made for man, ’twas made for me:
I will renounce this magic and repent.
Enter the two Angels.
GOOD ANG. Faustus, repent; yet God will pity thee.
BAD ANG. Thou art a spirit; God cannot pity thee.
FAU. Who buzzeth in mine ears I am a spirit?
Be I a devil, yet God may pity me;
Yea, God will pity me if I repent.
31
BAD ANG. Ay, but Faustus never shall repent.
Exeunt Angels.
FAU. My heart is harden’d, I cannot repent. —
Scarce can I name salvation, faith, or heaven,
But fearful echoes thunders in mine ears,
‘Faustus, thou art damn’d!’ Then guns and knives,
Swords, poison, halters, and envenom’d steel
Are laid before me to dispatch myself;
And long ere this I should have done the deed
Had not sweet pleasure conquer’d deep despair.
Have not I made blind Homer sing to me
Of Alexander’s love and Oenon’s death?
And hath not he, that built the walls of Thebes
With ravishing sound of his melodious harp,
Made music with my Mephostophilis?
Why should I die, then, or basely despair?
I am resolv’d Faustus shall not repent. —
Come, Mephostophilis, let us dispute again,
And reason of divine astrology.
Speak, are there many spheres above the moon?
Are all celestial bodies but one globe
As is the substance of this centric earth?
MEPH. As are the elements, such are the heavens,
Even from the moon unto the empyreal orb,
32
Mutually folded in each other’s spheres,
And jointly move upon one axle-tree,
Whose termine is term’d the world’s wide pole;
Nor are the names of Saturn, Mars, or Jupiter
Feign’d, but are erring stars.
FAU. But have they all
One motion, both situ et tempore?
MEPH. All move from east to west in four-and-twenty hours
upon the poles of the world, but differ in their motions
upon the poles of the zodiac.
FAU. These slender questions Wagner can decide:
Hath Mephostophilis no greater skill?
Who knows not the double motion of the planets?
That the first is finish’d in a natural day;
The second thus: Saturn in thirty years,
Jupiter in twelve, Mars in four, the sun, Venus, and Mercury in a year, the
moon in twenty-eight days. These are
freshmen’s suppositions. But tell me, hath every sphere a
dominion or intelligentia?
MEPH. Ay.
FAU. How many heavens or spheres are there?
MEPH. Nine: the seven planets, the firmament, and the em- pyreal heaven.
FAU. But is there not coelum igneum? et crystallinum?
MEPH. No, Faustus, they be but fables.
33
FAU. Resolve me then in this one question:
Why are not conjunctions, oppositions, aspects, eclipses
all at one time, but in some years we have more, in some
less?
MEPH. Per inaequalem motum respectu totius.
FAU. Well, I am answered. Now tell me who made the world.
MEPH. I will not.
FAU. Sweet Mephostophilis, tell me.
MEPH. Move me not, Faustus.
FAU. Villain, have not I bound thee to tell me anything?
MEPH. Ay, that is not against our kingdom.
This is. Thou art damn’d; think thou of hell.
FAU. Think, Faustus, upon God, that made the world.
MEPH. Remember this!
Exit.
FAU. Ay, go, accursed spirit, to ugly hell!
’Tis thou hast damn’d distressed Faustus’ soul.
Is’t not too late?
Enter the two Angels.
BAD ANG. Too late.
GOOD ANG. Never too late, if Faustus will repent.
BAD ANG. If thou repent, devils will tear thee in pieces.
GOOD ANG. Repent, and they shall never raze thy skin.
Exeunt Angels.
34
FAU. O Christ, my saviour, my saviour,
Help to save distressed Faustus’ soul.
Enter LUCIFER, BEELZEBUB, and MEPHOSTOPHILIS.
LUC. Christ cannot save thy soul, for he is just;
There’s none but I have interest in the same.
FAU. O, what art thou that look’st so terribly?
LUC. I am Lucifer,
And this is my companion prince in hell.
FAU. O Faustus, they are come to fetch thy soul.
BEEL. We are come to tell thee thou dost injure us.
LUC. Thou call’st on Christ contrary to thy promise.
BEEL. Thou shouldst not think on God.
LUC. Think on the devil.
BEEL. And his dam too.
FAU. Nor will I henceforth; pardon me in this,
And Faustus vows never to look to heaven,
Never to name God or to pray to him,
To burn his scriptures, slay his ministers,
And make my spirits pull his churches down.
LUC. So shalt thou show thyself an obedient servant,
And we will highly gratify thee for it.
BEEL. Faustus, we are come from hell in person to show thee
some pastime. Sit down, and thou shalt behold the Seven
Deadly Sins appear to thee in their own proper shapes
35
and likeness.
FAU. That sight will be as pleasant to me as paradise was to
Adam the first day of his creation.
LUC. Talk not of paradise or creation, but mark the show,
Go, Mephostophilis, fetch them in.
Enter the Seven Deadly Sins [led by a Piper].
BEEL. Now, Faustus, question them of their names and dispositions.
FAU. That shall I soon. What art thou, the first?
PRIDE. I am Pride. I disdain to have any parents. I am like
to Ovid’s flea; I can creep into every corner of a wench:
sometimes, like a periwig, I sit upon her brow; next, like
a necklace, I hang about her neck; then, like a fan of
feathers, I kiss her lips; and then, turning myself to a
wrought smock, do what I list. But fie, what a smell is
here! I’ll not speak another word, unless the ground be
perfumed and covered with cloth of arras.
FAU. Thou art a proud knave indeed. What art thou, the
second?
COVETOUSNESS. I am Covetousness, begotten of an old
churl in a leather bag; and, might I now obtain my wish,
this house, you and all, should turn to gold, that I might
lock you safe into my chest. O my sweet gold!
FAU. And what art thou, the third?
ENVY. I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an
36
oyster-wife. I cannot read and therefore wish all books
burned. I am lean with seeing others eat. O, that there
would come a famine over all the world, that all might
die, and I live alone! then thou shouldst see how fat I’d
be. But must thou sit and I stand? Come down, with a
vengeance!
FAU. Out, envious wretch! But what art thou, the fourth?
WRATH. I am Wrath. I had neither father nor mother; I
leaped out of a lion’s mouth when I was scarce an hour
old, and ever since have run up and down the world with
these case of rapiers, wounding myself when I could get
none to fight withal. I was born in hell; and look to it, for
some of you shall be my father.
FAU. And what art thou, the fifth?
GLUTTONY. I am Gluttony. My parents are all dead, and the
devil a penny they have left me but a small pension, and
that buys me thirty meals a day and ten bevers—a small
trifle to suffice nature. I come of a royal pedigree: me
father was a gammon of bacon, and my mother was a
hogshead of claret wine; my godfathers were these, Peter
Pickled-herring and Martin Martlemas-beef. But me
godmother, O, she was a jolly gentlewoman, and well
beloved in every good town and city; her name was
Margery March-beer. Now, Faustus, thou hast heard
37
all my progeny; wilt thou bid me to supper?
FAU. No, I’ll see thee hanged; thou wilt eat up all my victuals.
GLUT. Then the devil chokes thee.
FAU. Choke thyself, glutton! What art thou, the sixth?
SLOTH. Heigh-ho! I am Sloth. I was begotten on a sunny
bank, where I have lain ever since; and you have done
me great injury to bring me from thence: let me be carried thither again by
Gluttony and Lechery. Heigh-ho!
I’ll not speak a word more for a king’s ransom.
FAU. And what are you, Mistress Minx, the seventh and last?
LECHERY. Who, I, sir? I am one that loves an inch of raw
mutton better than an ell of fried stockfish, and the first
letter of my name begins with Lechery.
LUC. Away, to hell, away! On, piper!
Exeunt the Seven Sins [and the Piper].
FAU. O, how this sight doth delight my soul!
LUC. But, Faustus, in hell is all manner of delight.
FAU. O, might I see hell and return again safe, how happy
were I then!
LUC. Faustus, thou shalt; at midnight I will send for thee.
Meanwhile peruse this book and view it throughly,
And thou shalt turn thyself into what shape thou wilt.
FAU. Thanks, mighty Lucifer.
This will I keep as chary as my life.
38
LUC. Now, Faustus, farewell.
FAU. Farewell, great Lucifer. Come, Mephostophilis.
Exeunt
About the Author
Playwright Christopher Marlowe is one of the acclaimed names of Elizabethan drama,
even though his writing career lasted only a little more than five years. He was born in 1564,
the same year as Shakespeare, in Canterbury, but started writing at a much younger age and
prepared the way for his great contemporary. It is believed Marlowe wrote seven plays, but his
life was cut short when he was murdered in 1593 at the age of 29, in a tavern in Deptford. He
had got into a fight and drawn a knife, upon which his opponent drew him and fatally stabbed
Marlowe in the eye. Some researchers have posed the idea that he was deliberately provoked
as part of an assassination plot to eliminate him so that he could not testify against some
important men, including Walter Raleigh, in a coming trial.
He started at university, at Corpus Christie College, Cambridge, at the age of 16 and
completed Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. It seemed that during his time as a theatre writer,
he was also a spy and it is assumed that it led to his death.
Marlowe was well equipped to write the ‘educated’ drama that preceded Shakespeare’s
plays: his texts were full of classical references and images are taken from the new science of
astronomy as opposed to Shakespeare’s imagery derived from country life. His first play was
Tamburlaine – a long, somewhat unwieldy play, but of great significance, in that it was the
first noteworthy play written in blank verse, a form that released drama from its constricted
poetic conventions, and was later used routinely by Shakespeare. His other, more famous, and
better, plays, Dr Faustus, The Jew of Malta and Edward II, followed swiftly on Tamburlaine’s
heels. Very few English writers with careers of fewer than six years have made such an
impression: Christopher Marlowe’s place as one of the great English writers is secure.
About the Text
The Seven Deadly Sins — pride, covetousness, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, and lechery appear
before Faustus and make a brief speech. The sight of sins delights Faustus’s soul, and he asks
to see Hell. Lucifer promises to take him there that night. In the meantime, he gives Faustus a
39
book that teaches him how to change his shape. These seven sins are called deadly in that they
evoke God’s justice and punishment more severe than other sins. Of these deadly ones, Pride
offends God the most.
Glossary
•
characters: symbols
•
dispositions: situations (an astrological term)
•
yet: even now
•
spirit: evil spirit, the devil
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buzzeth: mutters
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Be I: even if I am
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halters: hangman’s ropes
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dispatch: kill
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astrology: astronomy applied to human uses
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centric: central
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termine: end, extremity (a trisyllable)
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slender: trifling
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Resolve me: bring me to clear understanding
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Move: anger
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raze: graze
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interest in: a legal claim upon
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injure: wrong
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gratify: reward
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own proper: own
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show: pageant, procession
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soon: at once
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periwig: wig
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wrought: embroidered.
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list: please
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of: by
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churl: miser. leather bag: money-bag
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with a vengeance! with a curse!
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these case of: this pair of
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withal: with
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bevers: light snacks
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progeny: lineage
Comprehension Questions
1. What are the Seven Deadly Sins in Doctor Faustus?
2. What was Faustus' contract with Lucifer?
3. What was Faustus' biggest sin and which sin offended God the most?
4. What is Wrath in Dr Faustus?
5. Explain the origin of the seven deadly sins?
6. What is the significance of the seven deadly sins?
7. What are the symbols of the Seven Deadly Sins and where did they come from?
8. Why are the Seven Deadly Sins important in Dr Faustus?
9. What are the main themes that have been explored by Marlowe in his play Dr Faustus
with special reference to the seven deadly sins?
10. What is the main reason behind presenting the show of the seven deadly sins in scene
VI and explain the reference to each sin?
Suggested Reading
1. Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe
2. https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/d/doctor-faustus/play-summary
3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doctor_Faustus_(play)
4. https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/doctor-faustusmarlowe/analysis/seven-deadly-sins-allegory
5. https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/seven-deadly-sins-gateway-ultimate-doom-hell-playdr-faustus-jamie-/
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