Sunday, November 29, 2015

The Man Who Wasn't There Extra Credit Blog Post


While I didn’t make it to the movie night, I recently watched The Man Who Wasn’t There, a film that Mr. Mitchell suggested we watch due to the movie’s shared themes with The Stranger by Albert Camus. I enjoyed the movie, but when I began to draw comparisons to The Stranger, I realized that there were the many key differences between this film and the book that supposedly inspired it.
            I thought that one of the most important aspects of The Stranger was the senseless nature of Meursalt’s murder of the Arab. Meursalt shot the defenseless man on the beach with no real motive. This is not the case at all in the pivotal murder scene in The Man Who Wasn’t There. Ed Crane actually kills Dave in self defense. Even if we disregard the fact that Dave attacked Ed first, Dave was sleeping with Ed’s wife, creating another obvious motive. The cold and uncaring character of Ed is certainly inspired by the unemotional and detached Meursalt, but the situation in which the murder occurs is completely different from the book.
            The trial of Ed’s wife again diverges from the novel, since there is nothing in The Stranger to compare it with. However, I did think it was an intriguing addition to the story that provided additional moral complexity for Ed’s character to confront. The defense lawyer is a much more important character in the film than in the book, which I think was a good choice on the part of the screenwriters since I felt that character was missing in The Stranger.
            Finally, the film wrapped up with the trial of Ed, where, without a solid defense, Ed’s character was put on trial and he was sentenced to death. Disregarding the alien scene (which I considered unnecessary and silly), this part of the movie certainly included themes from Camus and was a satisfying conclusion to the film.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Shifting Perspective in Wide Sargasso Sea


In Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys, the shifting narrative perspective allows the reader to view the same environment and events through a different lens.  The first part of the book is set in Antoinette’s past, with scenes from her childhood from her perspective.  Part Two alternates between the husband (Mr. Rochester) and Antoinette, focusing mostly on the husband’s perspective and inner thoughts.  Mr. Rochester finds himself in a foreign world following his marriage to Antoinette that left him thirty thousand pounds richer. He and Antoinette are to spend several weeks on an estate that belonged to Antoinette’s deceased mother. He is confounded by the customs, and also seems unable to understand his new wife whom he did not know prior to their marriage. The husband’s inability to connect with Antoinette is interesting.  Her customs are foreign to him, but because of the perspective in Part One, the reader understands that her behavior may have more to do with personality idiosyncrasies, than her native customs. From the husband’s perspective, much is unclear about Antoinette’s temperament and background.  The reader better understands the significance of some of the scenes because the reader has read the first part of the story as narrated by Antoinette. This allows us to identify better with Antoinette, even though we do not always know exactly how she is feeling at the time of the second part of the book.   When an author shifts narrative perspectives, as Rhys does so effectively in this book, it gives the reader a fuller understanding of the story and its nuances.
            Rochester is a somewhat unsympathetic character, yet because Part Two is largely from his perspective, the reader sees that he feels betrayed by his father and brother and confused by his wife’s behavior.  This is compounded by the encounters with Daniel Cosway.  Rochester would an even more unlikeable character if the second half was also told completely from Antoinette’s perspective. As it stands, we at least understand the motives for Rochester’s actions.  When the perspective shifts briefly to Antoinette’s, we are less bewildered and distressed by her husband’s lack of affection, but as readers we can empathize better with her feelings.   Rhys is a master of narrative perspective.