Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Clock.

"Clock."
"Yes." She pointed. It hung on the wall behind him, near the corner to his left, an absurdly fussy and over-ornamented Swiss cuckoo clock, with an alpine gable and a small host of obscure shapes, peasants, cows, alphenhorns, edelweiss, heaven knows what else, carved on every available brown wooden surface. "It was left us by a previous patient. An Irish gentleman. We thought it added a human touch."
"It's awful."
"It won't disturb you. We've disconnected the striking mechanism. It doesn't cuckoo anymore."
He remained staring at the hideous clock: its lunatically cluttered front, its dropped intenstines of weights and chains. It did disturb him, standing for something he feared, he couldn't say why; an anomaly, an incongruous reminder of all he could not remember. (10)


The image of the cuckoo clock hanging on an otherwise empty wall in the author's brain is something that has stuck with me. It seems to have various meanings, a few of which are quite relevant to the material we've been trying to digest. Let's give this a shot, shall we?

We first have a physical description of the object. It is a cluttered, overstimulating and ridiculously gaudy mess of a thing. The patient is informed that the striking mechanism was removed, assuring him that he will not be bothered by it. But even without sound, it makes its presence known, especially in contrast to the relatively simple room (which is, as aforementioned, representative of the brain or mind).

As is the case with just about anything in this world, there are few ways to look at this. First off, the cuckoo clock that doesn't cuckoo is deconstructed. A cuckoo clock serves one function that an ordinary clock does not, and that is to cuckoo. A clock that doesn't cuckoo is just a clock. This is along the same lines as the bus-train example we had used earlier in the semester. It is something of a "loophole" in the way we use language. Look at this from a perspective that is more akin to psychoanalytic theory and the clock that makes its presence known, regardless of how well it functions, is saying something about the man made construct of time. Miles describes the clock as something he fears, because it is an "incongruous reminder of all he could not remember." Subconsciously, as can be said about all societal norms, it is always present, lingering, nagging. And then theres the obvious "cuckoo" as "insanity".

It is explained that the reason the clock is there in the first place is to add a "human touch". What can one make of this statement? We have a description of the clock as hideous and cluttered, is this "human"? Maybe it is a reference the confusion and conflict of the human mind? But wait, because it is a clock, it is representative of time, something humans created. But time is suggestive of order, isn't it? Or maybe time creates insanity, and humans fall victim to the things they create.

This could just be overanalyzing, especially since it is revealed later in the book that the Irish patient they mention is based on a real person, Flann O'Brien. I know we discussed this briefly in class, but I cannot remember if his context in this book was explained. From what I know he is a satirist and novelist who, like Fowles, is also noted for exploring metafiction. So maybe the "humanity" the clock offered was the presence of another author who had attempted to achieve something similar through his art. Maybe it was a reminder that the author is not dead after all, but who knows?

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Who Watches the Watchmen?


I am an avid supporter of comic books. I think its an excellent medium with countless artistic possibilities, and Hollywood's current trend in comic-based films (300, V for Vendetta, From Hell, Sin City, Hellboy, Ghost World, to name a few) is a pretty good indicator that the rest of the world is finally starting to catch on to it. Now, admittedly I am more a fan of the independent, non Superhero stuff (I'll take Fantagraphics and Drawn & Quarterly over DC and Marvel any day), but then there is Watchmen.

The big question Watchmen asks is, what if superheroes were real? The characters are psychologically disturbed and fragile (some, arguably, even sociopathic). They are confused about their identity and their place in the world, and have opposing objectives for saving it. A few of the central heroes are even gay (or rumored to be). The objective of my paper is to explore the book's deconstruction of super heroes and the super hero genre.

First, it is essential to identify the purpose and identity of a superhero within our culture. What do we conceive as characteristic of a superhero? What value/purpose do they have within our society? Simply, to deconstruct a superhero, one must first have a working definition of what a superhero conventionally is. We briefly explored in class the term "hero", and the expectations that come with the application of the word. I wanted to expand upon that idea.

As one can imagine, it has been difficult finding usable academic journals in support of this topic, so my current list on my annotated bibliography is a tentative one. One article I found is about an art exhibit with a focus on revealing how superhero comics have mirrored society's history from WWII to present day. This could provide a good starting point in terms of cultural significance, so that is going in the maybe pile. Another article discusses the glamorization of superheroes, and another how the concept of a superhero has evolved through television, film, and (of course) comic books.

Things are coming together and I will be digging deeper to find better working sources. Like I said, difficult topic in terms of finding the right stuff, but well worth it for what has the potential to be a really great paper (i hope). At this point, we're only in the beginning stages. Any suggestions are appreciated.