Literary Time with Race and Class

Casanova’s article on literary time has stood out for me all semester. It’s been one of those readings that I never stop thinking about and the ways that it applies to my life as well as my other classes. The theory that he is exploring is much bigger than just within modernist literature. It’s something that has continued to this day. The idea that you must travel to a certain esteemed place to truly study art or academia is alive and well. It is one of the primary reasons that I moved to Boston. It’s one of the reasons that my family is so proud of me. To “get out” of a small town or rural area has many complicated layers, but one is the belief that there are no smart people in rural places. That intelligence can only be found in large cities with lots of money and white people. To have a smart child is an anomaly and thus they are sent off to get “educated” as soon as possible, so as to not contaminate them. Casanova is alluding to a much larger system in The World Republic of Letters. He is acknowledging the fact that only those from white and rich places are allowed to be intelligent and thus taken seriously. If someone is from outside of that world, they must move there quickly. In the US, the South and the Midwest are considered to be poor while the Southwest along with the South again have large populations of people of color. In the same way, France and England were comparatively white and rich in the Modern Era. This sets Paris, London, Boston, New York, and Silicon Valley as places where intelligence can flourish. It has nothing to do with talent. Only race and class.

Dialect in Rhys and Hurston

Zora Neale Hurston is know for her intriguing dialogue choice in Their Eyes Were Watching God. She contrasts beautiful and high caliber “proper” English with a 1920s Black dialect. This striking verbal contrast helped to propel her novel into literary acclaim. By proving that she could access and craft the language of white publishers she was able to draw them into reading a story of and about Black people. This striking contrast helped to illuminate the racist disparities felt between white America and Black.

Rhys uses a similar concept in “Let Them Call It Jazz”. The entire story is written in working class British English. However, her other stories are all written in “proper” English. This distinction feels so slight that your eyes almost glance over it on the first page. It is as if there were just a few typos before you begin to see the pattern of grammar. This dialect helps the reader to take on the identity of the speaker and begin to see how the world seems constantly stacked against her.

Both Rhys and Hurston use their natural dialects compared to “proper” English to help manifest the difficulties of their characters and themselves for the reader. While Rhys uses slight verb changes, and Hurston transliterates a completely different dialect, these points of language work to internalize the reality of time and oppression by creating distance between the characters and those in power, meanwhile drawing the reader into these different experiences in a unique and compelling way.

Rhys vs. Feminism

I found myself puzzled by Rhys. In class we discussed that she was considered to be a major feminist. She was “rediscovered” by second-wave feminism in the same way that Zora Neal Hurston was. However, in her writing, Rhys is hostile to her female characters. Her protagonist is the modernist new woman though struggling with class issues. However, it seems that every other woman in these stories is vicious, trying to tear other women apart without much provocation. Frankie is described as a bitch and vilianized by both the men and Petronella. It feels almost as if Frankie is kept around for entertainment, Not having a full role within the group. The neighbor woman in “Let Them Call It Jazz” is cruel and mean. She is seen as a woman who hates based on race and class. This woman is the villain who creates most misery.

This hatred of women seems counter-intuitive to most understandings of feminism. It’s not that women can’t be mean. The idea is to write complex and deep characters. To look at all parts of a person as well as humanity. To characterize every woman either as a mean and slutty bitch or as an uptight and repressed hag is counter-productive to a larger goal of seeing women be valued in society. I am both curious about and frustrated with this characterization of Rhys as a strong feminist writer.

Hidden Queerness in Rhys

I found myself continuously puzzled by the consistent hidden queerness in Rhys’ short stories. We began with “Illusion” which has this hidden relationship between two women. However, it feels increadibly awkward. There is this frantic feeling of urgency that things must happen very quickly and in a strong manner. It doesn’t have the feeling of a relationship (even one in it’s final stages) or casual sex. Instead it feels like pressuring someone to take an exam or to finish packing to catch a train. While clearly being sexual, there is so much tension that it feels unusual for even the most awkward and introverted of relationships.

I see this again in “Till September Petronella”. While Petronella has a relationship that clearly ended negatively with Estelle, there is this bizarre intensity between her and Frankie. While we talked about numerous sexual relationships in class, we did not mention anything between Petronella and Frankie. There is one scene in which Frankie is in Petronella’s room that feels incredibly strong and uncomfortable. In some other texts including “Illusion” this implied a sexual relationship.

This incredibly intense but seemingly hidden relationships in Rhys’ work puzzle me. Woolf wrote explicitly about queer female relationships in Orlando and other texts. Additionally, Rhys was criticized for so many other things that she had nothing to lose by including more explicit queerness.

Trains and Movement in The House of Mirth

I kept thinking about Casanova’s theories of place and movement as I was reading Wharton’s House of Mirth. As someone from the mid-west, the theory of epicenters of knowledge and creativity resonated with me, always feeling far away. A large part of choosing Wellesley had to do with being close to such wealths of knowledge and society.

I found similar themes in The House of Mirth. Much depends on Lily’s ability to be in the right place at the right time. She must be invited to all of the right parties; furthermore, she must not be seen in town during the traveling season. It seems as though place is a large factor in one’s ability to maintain status. To this end, trains because relevant. While Wharton also uses ships, carriages and automobiles, it is trains that carry Lily to and from these estates as she attempts to maintain her status. Additionally, the trains signify her slipping in social structure.

The novel begins with Lily being seen in the train station. She is brilliant compared to others common folk. On a train we first see her play the society game in manipulative small talk as a way to separate herself from her worries. When she picks up Trenor at the train station she accepts his offer to play the stock market and thus her debt begins.

I believe that trains and travel help to illustrate how Lily’s status is in flux, changing as she moves to and from party and house. As she never has a stable home of her own, her status is also always shifting.