Works Cited:
Arnason, H.H. History of Modern Art. New York: Thames and Hudson Ltd, 1977.
Imaginary Museum. “Niceday’s wonderful ‘IMAGINARY-MUSEUM’: 12/2013.” http://www.imaginarymuseum.net/2013_12_01_archive.html (accessed 2 March, 2016).
National Galleries Scotland. “L'Appel de la Nuit [The Call of the Night].” https://www.nationalgalleries.org/collection/artists-a-z/d/artist/paul-delvaux/object/lappel-de-la-nuit-the-call-of-the-night-gma-3884 (accessed 4 March, 2016) .
Robinson, Michael. Surrealism. London: Flame Tree Publishing, 2005.
Wechsler, Jeffrey. “Magic Realism: Defining the Indefinite.” Art Journal 45, no. 4 (1985) : 293-298.
“life’s not a paragraph”
A Series of Paragraphs Explicating Life According to ee cummings
Hannah Ho
In ee cummings’ poem “Since feeling is first,” the division of stanzas mimics a chronological progression of birth, growth, maturity, and eventual death; while maintaining simple yet expressive diction, cummings conveys a poignant awareness of mortality. The deliberate lack of punctuation and use of enjambment serve to further the poet’s message. Two main themes are present: the triumph of romanticism over intellectualism, and a disdain for conventional limits of communication as they relate to the restrictive boundaries wherein people live. cummings emphasizes language’s inability to fully express the spontaneity of passion.
The very first line sets the tone for the rest of the poem, and has added significance as it also acts as the title. Intentionally ambiguous, “Since feeling is first” has a variety of possible interpretations. Considering its confluence with later stanzas, the text primarily signifies that feeling emotion, rather than adherence to the conventions of propriety, is paramount. As a derivative of this interpretation, an infant’s first literal experience upon entering the world is “feeling” – hunger, possible surprise or displeasure at the sudden change of scenery, and so forth. The faculty of actually articulating such things comes much later in the child’s development.
cummings continues the poem with a pointed enjambment of lines 2-4, allowing “who pays attention / to the syntax of things” to act as both a rhetorical question and as a statement: “(He or she) who pays attention […] / will never wholly kiss you;” implying that one concerning him or herself solely with structure and rationality is incapable of loving fully (ll 2-4). The word “syntax” is in itself ironic, as the term refers to the arrangement of words or phrases for which cummings is notorious.
Transitioning somewhat to a more playful mood, the speaker makes mention of Spring, a season often associated with idyllic charm and frivolity, introducing the aforementioned theme of romance in the poem. The child, it seems, has grown into an ardent young adult, full of headstrong sentiments. He feels things powerfully, so much so that his very “blood approves” (l 7). Specifically, the lines “kisses are better fate / than wisdom / lady I swear by all flowers” reveal the speaker’s conviction that logic and cold reason matter far less than love (ll 8-10). Additionally, the immediate contrast of the speaker’s solemn vow to flowers, a symbol of transient beauty, enhances the sense of whimsy present in the stanza.
The final stanza takes the previously carefree attitude and finishes with an allusion to the beginning of the poem, bringing the cycle to completion. Now mature, the speaker reaches a culmination of happiness with his romantic partner; no longer in flirtation with “eyelids’ flutter,” they achieve stability together in the phrase acknowledging “we are for each other” (ll 12-13). The last two lines consist of a clever play on words: “for life’s not a paragraph / and death I think is no parenthesis” (ll 15-16). Again, the return to grammar and punctuation connects with the poet’s purposefully vague phrasing. On a literal level, he suggests that life is not an individual component of a structure, but instead consists of a unity of different stages. He also indicates that life’s brevity should encourage the whole-hearted embrace of passion.
Consequently, death, unlike an actual parenthesis, is not a temporary pause. Rather, it signifies a very permanent end; humans must live while they are able. They should strive to emulate what the symbol of the ephemeral flower represents – that is, the pursuit of beauty and romance within their lifespans. On a metaphorical level, the parenthesis also depicts being trapped – death, to an extent, encapsulates the human experience. The poet believes that people have to break free of these restraints, as he has transcended the restraints of traditional syntax in the physical poem. The speaker tells his lover to “lean back in [his] arms” and enjoy each other’s company, for they will be separated all too soon by falling into the arms of death (l 14).
Short, moving, and often uncertain, mirroring the pattern of life itself, ee cummings portrays the mortal existence – made fiercely beautiful because of its innate impermanence – in “Since feeling is first.” The least assuming literary works have a habit of leaving the deepest impressions, and in this little poem, it remains absolutely the case.
A Need for Regional Governance in Hartford
Joy Kim
In a city with the highest poverty rates in the region and in a state with the second worst Gini coefficient nationwide, Hartford has striking disparities between its city proper and suburbs.44 These economic inequalities and the lack of a regional government in the Greater Hartford area suggest immense fragmentation between Hartford and surrounding cities. Yet, it cannot be ignored that Hartford’s suburbs have a central city. They cannot be a “suburb of nowhere.”45 To say that Hartford and its peripheries are not connected would fail to acknowledge the vast number of people who commute in and out of the city, who depend on the city to some extent. This raises the question of why a governing body is not formally established in the Hartford metropolitan area to address and strengthen those connections. Though Connecticut has moved away from or failed to successfully emulate county governments, a regional governing body in Hartford can have the authority and centrality to mitigate poverty and fragmentation in the metropolitan area.
Greater Hartford’s need for a formal regional government is largely due to individual municipal governments’ lack of authority. Hartford’s history has seen multiple occasions when local political authority was compromised. In 1868, the Dillon Rule stated that local governments are “mere tenants at will of the legislature,” replacing the Cooley Doctrine that asserted municipalities’ independence of state legislature.46 This idea of home rule gave states increased leverage over local governments and was officially added to Connecticut’s constitution in Article 10 at the 1965 Constitutional Convention.47 Though home rule today is that a “city or town has authority under guidelines of the state legislature to frame, adopt, and amend its charter,” it remains a debate as to whether Hartford and other major cities should have special governing authority.48 Despite such discussions, a power differential obviously exists between state and local governments in contemporary politics.
Consequently, it is crucial for county governments to serve as a buffer between the state and municipalities and between individual cities. Connecticut has not only debated over the authority it should give municipalities, but also transitioned away from formal county governments. When Democrats sought after the governor’s seat and legislative majorities in the 1959 Election, they promised to abolish “inefficient county governments.”49 As a result of their victory, the city manager and city council’s responsibilities increased without a corresponding increase in authority or financial resources.50 The authority that once existed in county government was not transferred to municipalities, nor to new regional governing bodies. Such organizations as the Department of Community Affairs, Regional Council of Governments, and Regional Planning Agencies had no authority over local governments.51 Without truly being above cities in the hierarchy of government, these groups could not fully supplant previous county roles. They were considered so inefficient that Republican Governor Thomas Meskill terminated the Department of Community Affairs 1970 in an effort to reduce state debt.52 As Hartford saw the repetitive elimination of formal county governments or their substitutes, a mindset of cities being independent of each other began to form.
Nonetheless, there have been more recent efforts to establish regional governing bodies. In fact, 96 organizations seek to work on regional issues.53 However, these many organizations do not have a single central entity. These organizations additionally lack much of the authority a formal government would have. For instance, the Capitol Region Council of Governments is unable to raise tax revenue or deliver local services, despite being the “best positioned” of such organizations.54 Though these regional bodies strive to accomplish government work, they are seldom in a comparable position of influence. In other cases, there is resistance against expanding authority in a single organization or one that may give Hartford precedence. The Metropolitan District Commission, for example, has been delivering water and sewer services to the Hartford region since 1929, but has been limited from growth. It is, however, an organization that successfully distributes public services on a regional scale. Currently in the Hartford metro area, education, emergency services, transportation, and other public services lack a central governing authority like the MDC.55 Simmons said that although sharing resources regionally is ideal, it is much more challenging to execute in social issues such as housing.56 A single organization or group of organizations, even if not in the form of official county government, must efficiently provide public services to the entire region rather than in individual cities.
Yet, Hartford also saw failed privatization efforts to create a governing body that could alleviate the city’s poverty or find alternative solutions. One such example is the Greater Hartford Process, Inc. and the Greater Hartford Community Development Corporation, which sought to create a new community in Coventry instead of solve urban sprawl in Hartford itself.57 The project ultimately failed, especially since these private organizations had very limited power to implement ideas. Another failed privatization effort was that of the Bishops, a group of corporates who lived outside Hartford but hoped to influence the city’s aesthetics, residents, and employees. Considering that corporations reaped in three-quarters of municipal property taxes, these men were invested in Hartford’s success despite not being residents.58 The Bishops had potential to revive the city economically since their own success depended on it. Nevertheless, tensions between the rich and poor did not disappear. As members of third party “People for Change” were elected to the city council, they created policies that were unfavorable to businesses and partly influenced the movement of headquarters outside of the city.59
Considering the Greater Hartford area’s hesitance with county government in the past, it is unlikely that official county offices will be created in the near future. However, this region can learn from mistakes in the past and continue to work towards more effective metropolitan governance. Rojas and Wray state that metropolitan governance can be accomplished without an explicit metropolitan government.60 Even as the central city in the metropolitan region, Hartford is fixed in poverty and lacks a substantial tax base as a financial resource. Creating a county government, or a governing body that has the authority to collect tax revenue, will increase the tax base from which poorer cities such as Hartford can draw resources. One can argue that tax revenue from suburbs should not be used in an unrelated city. This issue already exists as seen in my experience researching the Metropolitan District Commission’s Clean Water Project last year. West Hartford residents were dissatisfied with the project as expressed in the Hartford Courant due to the redistribution of tax revenue. Opposition often occurs when tax dollars are used for regional projects, but unfortunately it is currently the main financial resource for governments.
Moreover, even though suburban towns often believe otherwise, centralizing many local services could actually prove more efficient. It is unnecessary, for instance, to have more than 104 911 calling centers in the state.61 Finding a way to connect already existing organizations to coordinate local services and pull from a more central pool of financial resources could allow Hartford residents to partake in public amenities it could not before.
It cannot be denied that Hartford and its suburbs are interdependent despite the absence of their formal political connection. 83 percent of jobs in the city are filled by suburban residents, and 65 percent of the city’s residents work in the suburbs.62 People spend time in Hartford, and recognize that it has jobs and opportunities not necessarily available in the suburbs, while the same can be said vice versa. Though Hartford is to some extent an economic center, it is most certainly a political center as the state capital. Thus, the existence of a central and regional governing body can further establish Hartford as a center.
Since Hartford is the state capital, I fully expected it to be thriving upon applying to Trinity College. I assumed any state capital would have an exciting culture and a diverse metropolis of residents who feel connected to the central city. Once I visited Trinity, however, I found downtown Hartford to be quite the opposite of what I envisioned. On that Saturday, downtown felt deserted, while West Hartford’s Blue Back Square seemed to have more life. At that time, I thought West Hartford and Hartford were the same municipality, but I was also confused by the already visible dichotomy. It was not until I took my first urban studies course that I discovered the lack of any governmental connection between the two cities, other than their being in the state of Connecticut. Hartford felt and still feels incomplete because of its seeming lack of relevance to surrounding towns.
In order for Hartford to be less impoverished and maximize its role as a central city, a regional government must play a larger role in establishing a larger tax base, providing efficient local services, and creating cohesion between cities in the metropolitan area. Organizations that strive to address regional issues must have the authority to utilize tax revenue and stand in between cities and the state in the hierarchy of government. In cases of privatization, governing entities must consider the needs of the majority of the people instead of profit maximization. Especially considering Hartford’s small size, a regional governing body could figuratively expand its borders and serve as an obvious connection between Hartford and surrounding cities. Many of the problems that are thought to plague Hartford—poverty, irrelevance, racial tension, monotony—will not be solved overnight, but a county government or a similar authority can be one of the first steps.
Bibliography
McKee, Clyde and Nick Bacon. “A Tragic Dialectic: Politics and the Transformation of Hartford,” in Confronting Urban Legacy: Rediscovering Hartford and New England’s Forgotten Cities, edited by Xiangming Chen and Nick Bacon, 219-235. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2013.
“Metro Hartford Progress Points: A Snapshot of Our Communities.” 2014.
Rojas, Jason and Lyle Wray. “Metropolitan Hartford: Regional Challenges and Responses,” in Confronting Urban Legacy: Rediscovering Hartford and New England’s Forgotten Cities, edited by Xiangming Chen and Nick Bacon, 236-258. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2013.
Simmons, Louise. “Poverty, Inequality, Politics, and Social Activism in Hartford,” in Confronting Urban Legacy: Rediscovering Hartford and New England’s Forgotten Cities, edited by Xiangming Chen and Nick Bacon, 85-109. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2013.
Virginia Woolf and the “Anxiety of Authorship”
Madeleine Kim
In A Room of One’s Own (1929), Virginia Woolf enacts her feminist criticism by inventing hypothetical stories and then speculating how those stories would interact with the literary and social environments of her time. For example, in “Chloe Liked Olivia,” she imagines a fictitious novel in which “Chloe liked Olivia perhaps for the first time in literature,” predicting that if such a novel were to exist, “something of great importance [would have] happened” (899, 900). Although Woolf’s writing has, since its publication, become widely known and largely successful, one might question why she chose to write on the effects of a potential story, rather than actually penning the novel she imagined. One possible explanation is that her choice was fully intentional, that she saw theory as the most effective vehicle for her message. As a pedagogical tool, theory can be a powerful means of promoting social change, which is enacted little by little, by way of what we as a society teach, and how we teach it. Woolf may very well have believed that a speculative, theoretical essay about a hypothetical “Chloe and Olivia” would offer more fuel for social reform than would an actual novel. Yet, another possible explanation is that, given her patriarchal social context, the hierarchical power structure which her society had conditioned her to internalize, she was unable to produce a novel that would have been, for her time, so subversive. In The Madwoman in the Attic (1979), Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar appropriate Harold Bloom’s notion of the “anxiety of influence” to a feminist context, in order to describe the female writer’s ““anxiety of authorship”--a radical fear that she cannot create, that because she can never become a “precursor” the act of writing will isolate or destroy her” (1929). While Woolf’s writings are inarguably rebellious and anti-patriarchal, it is also possible that, lacking a female precursor who “proves by example that a revolt against patriarchal literary authority is possible,” she was only able to conceive such a story as “Chloe Liked Olivia” from the safer, meta-perspective of theory (1930).
The tension between these two possibilities is stressed further in Gilbert and Gubar’s explanation of the utility of the female precursor. They write:
The woman writer--and we shall see women doing this over and over again--searches for a female model not because she wants dutifully to comply with male definitions of her “femininity” but because she must legitimize her own rebellious endeavors. (1930)
On one hand, Woolf is serving as that female model, paving the way for later female authors to write “Chloe Liked Olivia.” By writing from the perspective of criticism, she provides a theoretical backing with which her imagined female predecessor could “legitimize her own rebellious endeavors.” Yet, on the other hand, by providing only a theoretical, hypothetical version of her radical novel, rather than penning the novel itself, she fails to “[prove] by example” that it is possible to portray in literature “those unrecorded gestures, those unsaid or half-said words, which form themselves, no more palpably than the shadows of moths on the ceiling, when women are alone, unlit by the capricious coloured light of the other sex” (1930, 900). It is possible that, having been reared to internalize the ideology of her patriarchal world, she was psychologically unable to perform the deep act of interiority required to construct “Chloe Liked Olivia” in the form of a novel.
From the very first paragraph of “Chloe Liked Olivia,” Woolf demonstrates a keen awareness of the anxiety that afflicts women who are “tampering with the expected sequence,” in a society where the patriarchal power structure is so deeply ingrained (898). In the imaginary scenario she describes, she is reading a text by the fictitious Mary Carmichael when she discovers a fundamental break from the norm, a suggestion of rebellion. The essay begins, “I am almost sure, I said to myself, that Mary Carmichael is playing a trick on us” (898). As the paragraph progresses, this disbelieving sense of anticipation grows, resulting in an exhilarating desire to follow the rebellious suggestion to its application in a real situation. However, as soon as Woolf courageously commits to go down the rabbit hole, to read on, she immediately begins to self-censor, unable to overcome the anxiety surrounding the possibility of a male onlooker:
And, determined to do my duty by her as a reader if she would do her duty to me as a writer, I turned the page and read... I am sorry to break off so abruptly. Are there no men present? Do you promise me that behind that red curtain over there the figure of Sir Chartres Biron is not concealed? We are all women, you assure me? Then I may tell you that the very next words I read were these--”Chloe liked Olivia…” Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. Sometimes women do like women.” (899)
Here, Woolf demonstrates that even reading about reading a subversive text is, for women in a patriarchal society, wrought with the anxiety of what Gilbert and Gubar identify as the male precursor’s “reading of her” (1929). When Woolf instructs, “Do not start. Do not blush,” it is unclear as to whom she is addressing, her female readers or herself. In either case, however, it is obvious that both she and her intended audience have so deeply internalized the logic of the patriarchy that even the most minor acts of rebellion produce paranoia. In this way, Woolf’s choice to present “Chloe Liked Olivia” only as a hypothetical story can be seen as a product of her own anxiety of authorship.
Yet, on the other hand, criticism that identifies and then proceeds to overcome the precise brand of paranoia that women feel in a patriarchal society is intrinsically radical. In this sense, Woolf’s criticism anticipates Gilbert and Gubar’s explanation of female diseases and, in particular, their discussion of agoraphobia:
Similarly, it seems inevitable that women reared for, and conditioned to, lives of privacy, reticence, domesticity, might develop pathological fears of public places and unconfined spaces. Like the comb, stay-laces, and apple which the Queen in “Little Snow White” uses as weapons against her hated stepdaughter, such afflictions as anorexia and agoraphobia simply carry patriarchal definitions of “femininity” to absurd extremes, and thus function as essential or at least inescapable parodies of social prescriptions. (1933)
Female agoraphobia is rooted in “patriarchal definitions of “femininity”” that deem the woman’s entrance into the public sphere a transgressive act that makes her somehow less “feminine.” The “pathological fears” that Gilbert and Gubar describe echo Woolf’s portrayal of the self-consciousness that female writers and readers feel when engaging with literature; just as “public places and unconfined spaces” are realms that women are specifically conditioned to fear, so is literature a male-dominated discipline in which women are unwelcome intruders. Therefore, when women such as Woolf and the female writers and readers she imagines begin “tampering with the expected sequence,” they inevitably encounter psychological barriers, deeply ingrained fears which they must overcome. Woolf, here, makes a radical demonstration of acknowledging her own fears and then promptly overcoming them by continuing to write her subversive essay. Her rebellion lies not only in her hypothetical “Chloe Liked Olivia,” but also--and perhaps even more powerfully--in the attention she calls to the “pathological fears” that often prevent women from participating in literature. In this way, Woolf serves as a precursor, a literary mother, to Gilbert and Gubar.
Woolf’s revelation of her own paranoia as a woman writer does suggest that she was afflicted by the “anxiety of authorship” that Gilbert and Gubar describe. However, this anxiety, the paranoia of transgressing the bounds of femininity into the male-dominated realm of literature, was not what prevented her from writing “Chloe Liked Olivia” as a novel rather than as criticism. In fact, it is her poignant articulation of exactly how that anxiety manifests in the minds of women that makes her subversive writing so powerful. By identifying, acknowledging, and exposing her own “pathological fears,” she not only overcomes them, but also helps pave the way for other women to do the same. For Woolf’s purposes, theory was ultimately the more effective vehicle for enacting social change. Through her criticism, she both offers a pedagogical tool that articulates exactly what a woman writer must do to pen a novel such as “Chloe Liked Olivia” and suggests a way for women to become more like Chloe and Olivia in their daily lives. At the end of her essay, she imagines what might happen when Olivia “sees coming her way a piece of strange food--knowledge, adventure, art”:
And she reaches out for it, I thought, again raising my eyes from the page, and has to devise some entirely new combination of her resources, so highly developed for other purposes, so as to absorb the new into the old without disturbing the infinitely intricate and elaborate balance of the whole. (900)
Through literature, she suggests, women can learn new ways of being in the world. Woolf’s essay is empowering not only for female writers, but also for all women whose patriarchal societies have purposely alienated them from one another.
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