Book Reports / Self-Fulfilling Prophecy in "The Blue Hotel" [19]

Hello,

I'm trying to prepare in advance for an essay about Stephen Crane's 1898 short story "The Blue Hotel". Here is a quick summary of the story.

Scully, owner of the [. . .] role in the tragedy.

I've only gotten so far in my essay and have realized that I need some help in terms of brainstorming, ideas, etc. Which is complicated, seeing that the subject is a short story that may require a reading or two to better understand its complexities. The full-text version of "The Blue Hotel" is available online here:

etext.virginia.edu/etcbin/toccer-new2?id=CraBlue.sgm&images= images/modeng&data=/texts/english/modeng/parsed&tag=public&p art=all

Anyway, this is what I have written so far:

The Growth and Change of the Swede in Stephen Crane's "The Blue Hotel"

In the epilogue of his short story The Blue Hotel, Stephen Crane poses an interesting moral conclusion. The Easterner, Mr. Blanc, believes that he, along with the cowboy, the hotel proprietor, Pat Scully, his son, Johnnie, and the gambler - the one directly to blame for the murder - each contributed to the Swede's death. Mr. Blanc even goes so far as to state that "every sin is the result of collaboration" (577). While it is true that the reactions from those around the Swede guide him toward his death, it's clear that the Swede is the most accountable of all the contributors. The Swede's perception of his environment, even as it changes and evolves, steers him almost irredeemably toward his demise. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, the prediction of being killed causes the events leading up to his death. The Swede's vulnerability, his decision to drink and his resulting sense of false superiority are what ultimately make his death inevitable.

The belief that something bad would happen causes the Swede to act in a strange manner, attracting unwanted attention from the other men at the hotel. He is first noticed by the other men in the hotel when he laughs "childish[ly]" (562) at an old farmer who walks away "with fabulous dignity" from a quarrel with Johnnie over a card game. His curious laughter comes not from anything genuinely humorous, but rather from his own nervousness and fear. Later, the Swede's assertion that many people must have been killed in the hotel compels Johnnie to confront him. Feeling threatened, the Swede attempts to exalts himself: "Oh, maybe you think I have been to nowheres. Maybe you think I'm a tenderfoot?" (563). These rhetorical questions underscore his own amateurishness, and result only in bafflement from the other men. Feeling "formidably menaced" (563), and afraid to withstand confrontation, the Swede becomes dramatic and tries to withdraw, stating, "I will leave this house. I will go 'way because . . . because I do not want to be killed" (564). Rather than resolve the matter, the Swede's instinctive reaction is to flee the scene out of fear. His perceived susceptibility to injury in the hotel, however, is merely the first major step on a path toward his terrible fate.

The Swede eventually has a change in his attitude that is brought to pass by consumption of alcohol. As he is readying to leave the hotel, Pat Scully attempts to calm him down and keep him from leaving by plying him with the contents of a "large yellow-brown whiskey-bottle" (566), which has been kept hidden by Scully. The Swede at first refuses to drink, believing that it is kept hidden because it is poisoned. Once he is convinced that the whiskey is not poisoned and decides to drink, the transition of the Swede's perception is made apparent. As the Swede drinks Scully's whiskey, he keeps "his glance burning with hatred upon the old man's face" (566). Not only is he no longer afraid, the Swede now wishes to make others fearful. The Swede's return downstairs is marked by this newfound aggression as "he talk arrogantly, profanely, angrily" (567) to the other men. He becomes so bold that he accuses Johnnie of cheating in a game of cards, while holding "a huge fist in front of Johnnie's face" (569). Unlike the old farmer, the Swede brings himself ever closer to his own death because he, being under the influence of the whiskey, cannot bring himself to walk away from the game.

The Swede's revised belief that nothing bad could possibly happen causes him to act in a reckless and ultimately self-destructive manner. After defeating Johnnie in a fist fight over the card game, he ridicules the men by "giving one derisive glance backward at the still group" (573), as he leaves the hotel. He then enters a saloon, which, unlike the hotel, is an environment most suitable for acknowledging how vulnerable he truly is. Rather, the Swede feels confident in the thought that he is among men like himself, as he "smil[es] fraternally upon the barkeeper" (574). However, he is met by indifference when bragging to the barkeeper and the four men at a nearby table about having beaten up Johnnie. The four men, among whom is a professional gambler, distance themselves but secretly take notice of the Swede. Such reaction works upon his swelled ego, and causes him to "snarl" and "explode" (576) when the men refuse to drink with him. The Swede, now unafraid and confident in his ability to handle confrontation after his experience at the hotel with Johnnie, tries to attack the gambler. When the gambler stabs him, the Swede's ego and entire existence is mortally deflated. The Swede's resulting "cry of supreme astonishment" (576) highlights his failure to understand what he was bringing upon himself. The thought of being killed did not cross his mind until it was too late. The legend on the cash-machine, "This registers the amount of your purchase" (576), further emphasizes the Swede's purchase of his own doom, and the reality of the situation registers in his mind only as he is dying.

With attention being drawn to the smallest of details, the events unfold in a way that hints at what is to come, but the Swede is thoroughly unaware. The light blue color of the Palace Hotel makes it stand out like "the legs of a kind of heron" (561), a harmless bird, while the red light outside the saloon is "indomitable" (574), or impossible to defeat, and turns the falling snow the color of blood. However, these indicative colors have no influence upon the Swede's actions; the man in the game is blind to what the men looking on clearly see. The Swede fails to realize what he causes to happen as he veers from baseless fear to baseless fearlessness. By believing that something bad would happen, the Swede elicits reactions from the other men that play upon his fears. By choosing to drink, the Swede is affected to the point of beating up Johnnie in a fight over a card game. By believing that nothing bad would happen, he risks his life and loses it in a fight with a gambler. Epiphany comes too late for the Swede. He dies because his limited perception of events cause him to fear for his life in a safe place and to be careless with it in a dangerous place.

WORK CITED

Crane, Stephen. "The Blue Hotel." Literature: An Introduction to Reading and Writing. Edgar V. Roberts; Henry E. Jacobs. Upper Saddle River: Pearson Prentice Hall, 2007.

Thanks in advance!

Book Reports / The Crashing Symbols of The Glass Menagerie and My Little Town [27]

This is what I have written so far, off the top of my head. I'm just not sure if I'm on the right track. It has to be 2,000 words, and I've barely half that! Thanks in advance!

The Crashing Symbols of "The Glass Menagerie" and "My Little Town"

At the beginning of Tennessee Williams' "The Glass Menagerie," Tom Wingfield makes it clear in his narration that the story about to be seen is true, though certainly not in a purely realistic sense. What the audience is about to see is most true to Tom himself, for it is a heartfelt, if artfully composed, recollection of a pivotal time in his life. Through remembrance and imagination, he concocts a moving monument that allows him to deal with his past in a highly creative manner, to turn psychological discord into something harmonious. As Tom states about his method of delivery in his opening soliloquy, "I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion" (1729), a description which can easily apply to either a stage play or a four-minute hit single. Like a songwriter, the playwright expounds his past in a powerful, lyrical piece. If ever there was a pop song equivalent of "The Glass Menagerie," it is "My Little Town," a song composed by Paul Simon and released in 1975 by Simon and Garfunkel. Through interpretation and analysis, the story of "My Little Town" can be seen as being strikingly similar to that of "The Glass Menagerie." The characters of the play can be seen in the song's lyrics in both a literal and symbolic sense. Both the song and play share the same basic theme: no matter how far someone goes, it is impossible to truly escape his or her past.

Tennessee Williams and Paul Simon both share similarities not only in writing style but also in biography. Williams "is considered one of the best playwrights" of the post-WWII era, and "wrote powerful and involved dramas that mainly deal sensitively with emotionally damaged people trying to survive in a hostile environment" (Asiado), an apt description of "The Glass Menagerie." In a similar manner, Simon is generally regarded as "one of the most accomplished and sophisticated songwriters, able to condense, in a few verses, simple but universal emotions," creating songs that are "delicate urban introspection . . . humble but profound vignettes of daily life . . . [with] an intense sense of compassion for the personal and public tragedies of humanity" (Scaruffi). To summarize their respective styles, each writer places emotionally injured characters in a sympathetic light.

On a lighter note, coincidentally, at one time in their lives, both Williams and Simon worked in the shoe industry. Tennessee's father, Cornelius, who was a traveling shoe salesman, forced him to withdraw from college and work as a clerk at the International Shoe Company in St. Louis, Missouri. In an interview with Katherine Lanpher on the Barnes & Noble interview series "One on One," Simon described his first job: "I worked at Kitty Kelly Shoes, which was at 34th Street then [near Broadway in New York City.] It's gone now, and not lamented. I was fifteen, and I was a stock clerk. My job was to go get the shoes that the salespeople requested. My nickname was Lightning. In my mind, I was not really planning on having a career in the shoe business" (Lanpher). It is fitting that, in Williams' play, Tom, like Williams and Simon in their youths, is an aspiring poet who works at a shoe warehouse, frustrated by the routine of his job: "Whenever I pick up a shoe, I shudder a little thinking how short life is and what I am doing! Whatever that means, I know it doesn' t mean shoes-except as something to wear on a traveler's feet!" (1756). The same longing for escape, along with its consequences, is also the major theme of Simon's song "My Little Town."

In the song, the character of Tom's father, Mr. Wingfield, can be interpreted in a symbolic sense as having a Godlike influence on Tom. The first half of the first verse can be seen simply as a description by the singer of growing up believing in God and reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, showing that religion and patriotism are a strong influence in his hometown: "In my little town/I grew up believing/God keeps His eye on us all/And He used to lean upon me/As I pledged allegiance to the wall/Lord I recall/My little town" (Simon). When contrasted with the play, however, it can be seen as having another dimension. In the play, Mr. Wingfield has abandoned the family and, therefore, is never seen, save for a large photo of him that hangs in the Wingfields' living room. The only contact established by him to his family is a brusquely written postcard from Mexico. In the song, God "lean upon" the singer while pledging "allegiance to the wall," which, when coupled with the line, "Lord, I recall," paints a picture of a man holding his hand over a heavy heart, mourning the loss of his past. In the play, Tom's father is still with him in memory, though it is purely in the spirit of abandonment: "I'm like my father. The bastard son of a bastard! Did you notice how he's grinning in his picture in there?" (1756). Mr. Wingfield exerts an almost omnipresent power over Tom, which is emphasized by the photo kept on display. This analogy is further coalesced by Laura's likening of their mother Amanda's disappointed face to that of a "picture of Jesus' mother" (1735), a reference to Mary, who is described in Christianity as a virgin who conceived Jesus by means of the spirit of God. At the beginning of Scene Four, as a church bell rings, a drunken Tom "shakes a little noisemaker . . . as to express the tiny spasm of man in contrast to the sustained power . . . of the Almighty" (1739). This, combined with like symbols, show both how insignificant Tom feels in his small-town existence and how worshiping he is of his father's lasting example of self-empowerment through escape.

The song can also be interpreted as describing the character of Tom's mother, Amanda Wingfield, who is portrayed in an unsophisticated manner that belies her genteel upbringing. In the second half of the first verse of "My Little Town," the protagonist reveals more of what is on his mind with arduous images of factories and doing laundry, which show that a strong work ethic is deeply embedded in his memories, though in a bitter tone: "Coming home after school/Flying my bike past the gates/Of the factories/My mom doing the laundry/Hanging our shirts/In the dirty breeze" (Simon). Amanda is a faded Southern Belle, as she was raised aristocratically in her oft-reminisced Blue Mountain. However, once she married Mr. Wingfield and was subsequently abandoned, she was forced into single-motherhood and her life was drastically changed. This reversal of fortune, which finds Amanda and her family living in a tenement in Depression era-St. Louis, can be visualized through the song as the protagonist's mother does the tedious work of a servant, washing and drying the family clothes.

Tom's memory of Amanda can also be seen as being accompanied by contemptuousness, as the shirts are hung "in the dirty breeze," most likely caused by the churning of factory smokestacks. The image of traveling through the city can be symbolic of Tom longing to take flight from Amanda and her dominance over his actions: "More and more you remind me of your father! He was out all hours without explanation!-Then left! Goodbye! And me with the bag to hold (1744) . . . What right have you got to . . . jeopardize the security of us all?" (1738). Amanda's reprehensible nagging is not so much out of a desire to control Tom, but rather to keep him from becoming like the negligent Mr. Wingfield. But it is to no avail, as her concern for him is executed without sophistication and, therefore, is poorly received by Tom, as if it were nothing more than mechanized smog. In other words, Amanda's good intentions are what pave the road for Tom's escape.

The characters of Tom's painfully shy sister, Laura Wingfield, and Jim O'Connor, Tom's goal-oriented co-worker at the shoe warehouse and Laura's secret high-school crush, can be interpreted in the second verse of the song as being represented by conflicting symbols of escape into fantasy and the contrary threat posed to it by reality: "And after it rains/There's a rainbow/And all of the colors are black/It's not that the colors aren't there/It's just imagination they lack/Everything's the same/Back in my little town" (Simon). Laura attempts to be a calming force amid the dysfunctional dynamic between Tom and Amanda. Therefore, she can be seen as a the proverbial rainbow after the rain of the family's stormy domestic life. At the same time, Laura is also the owner of the titular menagerie-a collection of tiny glass animal figurines that, if seen in the right light, become prisms displaying "delicate colors, like bits of a shattered rainbow" (1773). The same characterization can be applied to Laura. She tends to withdraw into shyness and speak very few words when faced with pressures from the outside world. In the right situation, though, she can display a bright and colorful side of herself, as seen when she shows off her collection: "Little articles of it, they're ornaments mostly! Most of them are little animals made out of glass, the tiniest little animals in the world . . . Here's an example of one, if you'd like to see it!" (1766). Such is how she is able to be sociable with Jim in a chance reunion in the Wingfield apartment.

Jim stands in stark, logical contrast to Laura's fantasizing nature. He is referred to as "being an emissary from a world of reality that we were somehow set apart from" (1730) by Tom in his opening soliloquy to the audience. Jim is the embodiment of the world and the "imagination they lack," in terms of being ignorant of the true suffering of others, coupled with misguided attempts to relieve it. During their encounter, Jim states outright regarding one of the figurines, "I'd better not take it. I'm pretty clumsy with things" (1766). When he does accidentally break the horn off of Laura's glass unicorn, it is an act that is indicative of his unthinking nature and a foreshadowing of how he accidentally breaks her heart. For even when they kiss, it is merely an effort on Jim's part to "build [her] confidence up and make [her] proud instead of shy and turning away" (1769). After their kiss, Jim tells Laura that he is engaged to someone else. Like the imaginary unicorn that, once its horn is broken, is reduced to a horse, Laura's heart is broken by Jim, causing her dreams of love, when confronted by the reality of the situation, to be reduced to nothing. As reflected in the song, because of Jim's insensitivity, Laura's unique, rainbow-like qualities are turned black as she is locked in a cell of loneliness from which there is no escape. This crippling event is the turning point in Tom's desire to break away from the responsibilities that have been thrust upon him.

The final verse and chorus of the song can be construed as very much like Tom's relationship with Amanda, which parallels that of Laura and Jim, in that her severity toward the excitement-seeking Tom causes him to finally walk out, though doing so means upsetting the lives of his mother and sister: "In my little town/I never meant nothin'/I was just my father's son/Saving my money/Dreaming of glory/Twitching like a finger/On the trigger of a gun/Leaving nothing but the dead and dying/Back in my little town" (Simon). The seemingly sentimental images of the song are now rendered empty and meaningless, as the protagonist wants nothing more than to escape the drudgery of his little town, no matter the cost. The image of saving his money can be seen as a good thing, but, in Tom's situation, it is done in a way that hurts his family. Instead of paying their light bill, he purchases a membership with the Union of Merchant Seamen, which serves as an outlet for his pursuit of dreams of glory. Tom, being the pleasure-centered person he is, is fed up: he has become both frustrated with being harassed by Amanda's constant criticism and bored with the limited level of fun he can have. The picture produced by the analogy of the protagonist "twitching like a finger" pulling "the trigger of a gun" strikes with impact. It implies that his exit is akin to committing a crime that leaves "nothing but the dead and dying," a line that repeats over and over again as the song ends. In Tom's situation, the dead and dying can be seen as Amanda and Laura, with no one to support them. The haunting memories and persistent guilt of his decision to leave them confirms that, even though he is far from his little town, he is nothing but a fugitive, one who will never outrun his past.

Placing "The Glass Menagerie" and "My Little Town" in a side-by-side analysis serves to emphasize the creative aspect, as both the song and the play are ambiguous and open to the audience to decide the effects and the effectiveness of Tom's actions. At the end of the play, Tom Wingfield makes it clear that he could never really escape his past, for it continued to haunt him over and over again, even through the power of song: "It always came upon me unawares . . . Perhaps it was a familiar piece of music. Perhaps it was only a piece of transparent glass. . ." (1773). Therefore, the only true escape was for him to confront it as best he could: by handling it in some form of artistic expression, "truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion" (1729). Both song and play capture the same themes. The song, like the play, like Tom's depiction of Mr. Wingfield, shows both the emptiness and presence left by a missing family member. The song, like Tom's depiction of Amanda, uses urban images fraught with feelings of escape and contempt. The song, like the play, conveys Laura's dreamy and potentially colorful nature and the shattering of it by Jim's logical manner and lack of thoughtfulness. Ultimately, both play and song feature an almost violent desire to escape the confinement of family and small-town life. Even without interpretation and analysis of these details, it is clear that both are well-crafted, emotionally resonant works with much in the way of artistic value. Their very existence show that, while true escape from one's own past is impossible, one can turn those same regretful memories and experiences into powerful art that can be inspiring to others.

Works Cited

Williams, Tennessee. "The Glass Menagerie." Literature: An Introduction to Reading and Writing. Edgar V. Roberts; Henry E. Jacobs. Upper Saddle River: Pearson Prentice Hall, 2007. 1727-73.

Simon, Paul. "My Little Town | Paul Simon." Paul Simon.

Asiado, Tel. "Tennessee Williams Biography: American Playwright, Novelist, Poet, famous for The Glass Menagerie." Great Writers @ Suite101.

Scaruffi, Piero. "The History of Rock Music. Paul Simon: biography, discography, reviews, links." Piero Scaruffi's knowledge base.

Lanpher, Katherine. "Paul Simon | Book Videos, Interviews & Podcasts from B&N Studio." Book Videos, Interviews & Podcasts from B&N Studio.

Poetry / "Parting Gift" poem [9]

So long
All the world has come and gone
And the rain is speaking spells
On the roof above the born
Trying on what never ever fits
And she sits all overthrown
Well defined by someone else
And the words are all too kind
So precise and quantified
Killing time to keep her occupied
Inside with all the tired toys
In the machinated comfort zone
The window opens silently
And the world inside is gone
So long