A musing on stereotypes

I recently read an article in The Guardian the other day which was interesting.
Read the comments which were infuriating.
Here's why:

The article attempts fear mongering by claiming Michael Gove has commissioned three schools that will teach creationist teachings. This prompted a backlash in the comments sections where people cried out about the decline of modern education and how creationism is rubbish. While I agree, I would probably phrase it more tactfully, were it at all relevant. Because these people clearly didn't read the article. How do I know? Because by the end of the article, it is clear that the schools have stated that they will not teach creationism as a science and that even if they wanted to, it is against the law. While their statements may actually cover up their intentions, it is too soon to tell and will require following-up reporting once the schools have opened. So the comments are irrelevant criticisms of something that hasn't actually occurred, which leaves me very uncomfortable as they essentially show a prejudiced group of outspoken individuals with little respect for Christians.
They even prompted an article the next day written by a mouse, apparently. When you're argument is being debunked by a mouse, you need to seriously think about what you've done and be very, very ashamed. (Unfunny and mean but true.) Go and have a look, and see if you can get angry about a school teaching creationism in a class called Religious Education, which is notably different from that other subject called Science.

What is clear is a misunderstanding that is common on all perceptions of religious people: we are most aware of religious people through fundamentalists and as we are presented with them through media, anecdotes and street corners more than people who happen to be religious, they become the sole representatives of religious people. In other words, if you are religious, you must be a fundamentalist.
Which is clearly wrong, no matter how you view it. Yes, I agree the worst religious people are those who feel the need to shove religion down your throat and claim it as fact, but that doesn't mean they are all like that. Believe it or not, it is possible to have a calm, sensible conversation about religion with a Christian or a Muslim. But of course, its so much easier to have a go at fundamentalists who are so clearly wrong and confirm our own beliefs by deconstructing their argument without looking at our own.

This thought of mine was unexpectedly developed recently by a conversation I had with someone about the recent Colorado shooting during 'The Dark Knight Rises' premiere, in particular how it was reported in 'The Sun' with descriptions of the shooter as a "sicko" and apparently obsessing over a photo of a young woman. My friend commented that the papers can make anyone look obsessive with the right use of emotive language and information. This made me think about how we can all be labelled as a stereotype but we aren't and if we found out we were, we would be furious. It's that old chestnut the double-standard unfortunately; perfectly fine for us to stereotype others but as an individual we deserve the right to resist such labelling of ourselves.

In an uncomfortable segue, let me mention briefly 'A Tale of Two Cities' by Charles Dickens. (This will make sense I promise.) Now this is typically* regarded as a 'lesser' Dickens work, which I have to agree with. By no means bad, it has one of the best opening lines and one of the best closing lines in literature, and looking at them shows perhaps why the book stand out as unusual for Dickens:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

 "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far,far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.'

(That last quote, by the way, is used to incredibly powerful effect in the latest Batman film which is one unexpected surprise that I have spoiled but at least it's not a plot twist.)

The lines show a poetic quality which is not something one naturally associates with Dickens. His descriptions of London and France are of his typical lyrical quality (just look at the description of fog in the opening of 'Bleak House' for proof elsewhere) and he often uses repetition for effect but never has it flowed so beautifully as it does with those lines that are so often quoted out of context as wonderful writing. But what about the stuff in between? It's a simple story about individuals involved in the French Revolution, in England and France, of privileged and working-class backgrounds. This sounds interesting, and it is but it lacks Dickens' typical charm and fun. While his focus on the narrative and plot is admirable, it isn't quite as entertaining as a truly great work like 'Great Expectations'. That novel had glorious characters that reader and writer wanted to spend time with leading to many digressions from the plot to see how the characters spent their time. Not quite so with those in 'A Tale of Two Cities' - while fascinating enough, they aren't as captivating as I would like. So I'd have to say if you're interested in reading Dickens, I wouldn't start here but come back to it once you've fallen in love with his prose and imagination.

Now that is a very simple analysis of a book that would probably prompt some people to call me a nerd or, if they're being kind, bookish. Just for reading a book and having a view. Is this not similar for religion? Probably not, but then this post won't make sense. They have a belief in how to live their life by following the teachings of a book that isn't based entirely on reputable fact. Does this make them bad? No, it is how they behave and what they do with themselves that will decide that. Just because someone believes in creationism doesn't mean that they are stupid - they may be ignorant of evolution perhaps, or of particularly strong belief. Either of those possibilities are fine for me as long as they're not the kind of person that feels that it is the only view that matters. And that could be applied to any viewpoint: to people who think Shakespeare is rubbish because they can't understand him or that paintings are the only worthy art form - essentially those that feel the need to impose their view on everyone because it is 'fact'. These are the people who are a bigger problem than those who are capable of complete faith.


*NB: does stereotypically just mean typically on a larger scale or agreed by society rather than a single group of people?

Watching and Reading Much Ado About Nothing

'When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should still live till I were married.'

Just to make clear, no I regrettably have not seen the David Tennant and Catherine Tate production, but nevertheless the performance I saw in Abergavenny was still impressive. The trick to performing Shakespeare I find is focusing on clarity - chances are at least half the audience will not be familiar with the ins and outs of the play or be able to fully understand the language. In this case the ensemble company did this very well and provided an entertaining evening for all. And it is them more than Shakespeare that deserves the plaudits.

The plot is fairly simple: a group of soldiers return from war to stay in the home of Leonardo, where some of them fall in love with his female family and servants. But as Shakespeare himself wrote, although not in this play, "the course of true love never did run smooth"

The recent convention of abridging Shakespeare's plays may mean there are few productions that contain the whole text, but it does make them more approachable - the quality is still up for debate. As Mark Lawson brought up in his interview with Tennant and Tate, lines like 'if I do not love her, I am a Jew' cannot be used in modern productions. The only possible exception is if, like Gilliam with Faust, a director chose to set the play in Nazi Germany - hardly likely to be a successful combination with any comedies, never mind Shakespeare's.

While the play contains many witty one-liners and fiery dialogue within Beatrice and Benedick's arguments, they did not provoke near as many laughs as the physical comedy from the actors, particularly when both Beatrice and Benedick are tricked into thinking they are in love with each other. Hiding behind increasingly ludicrous items and an attempted cat imitation were exaggerated to the right extent to bring the audience to hysteria. The lines usually only produced laughs through the fantastic timing and inflections used by the actors, such as one instant when a bitter Claudio bitterly talks to 'BeneDICK'

As such when reading the play, the wordplay is more humorous and benefits from being able to take time to understand the language. It also provides detail for the characters and plot, although in this case little more is needed. What is most striking is the similarities and differences in the experiences. The moments of exposition are tedious in both versions, particularly when Hero's fake death is planned - a dramatic contrivance that is near impossible to overcome. However the production did successufully manage at least one major diversion from the text. Claudio, lover of Hero, is tricked into thinking she cheats on him by Don John. Unlike in the script, the production showed the deception on stage. The only piece of dialogue was when the trickster cried to his lover, "You are my Hero" with Claudio's heartbreak being portrayed through some impressive acting. While it was tragic when I first watched it, it is simply stunning knowing that it's an insert.

I am generally of the opinion that seeing a performance of Shakespeare's plays, whether on film or stage, is the best possible way to gain an appreciation of the text; if it is designed to be performed, it is ridiculous to only judge it on a literate level. I genuinely feel Shakespeare was primarily a fantastic entertainer but this was the first time I saw a full-length performance - an area I aim to rectify in time. This relatively low-key production of a mostly lesser-known play leaves me desperate for more.

Reading 'Emma' by Jane Austen

As she was writing 'Emma' Austen may have had little idea that this would be the last novel published in her lifetime, but she was certain about one thing: "I am going to take a heroine whom no one but myself will much like." She undeniably succeeded - the best thing about Emma is that she is such a caricature. She feels she has a right to interfere with people's lives and is always right. Even when she is shown the catastrophic consequences of her actions, she still doesn't learn. Unfortunately this means when Austen gives her a happy ending, it feels both anti-climatic and, in want of a better word, undeserving. She is not deliberately mean and she clearly has the best intentions, but Austen's biased favour for her character does mean Emma is intolerable at times.

However the overall tone is one of frivolity, well for the 19th Century anyway, which allows for some forgiveness for the melodramatic aspects of the novel. The characters are all lively and make many humorous quips. Indeed, it is in the dialogue that Austen is at her finest. Each character has a distinct way of speaking, which writers often find difficult to achieve. Miss Bates' babble in particular stands out, often filling a whole page on absolutely nothing; by far my favourite character. This is probably because all the rest are generally snobs, albeit entertaining ones. There are many of them, and almost all of them have their own sub-story. As such this means that it is sometimes difficult to keep track of the more minor characters, but they are usually not very involved in the plot. And there is the major fault I have - the plot.

I have already expressed my disappointment with the ending, but actually it doesn't feel like an ending. The whole story is just a series of events, based around the social occassions of the village. As such if you have no investment in the characters, the novel will become unbearable. As with any social occassion, there is much organisation required and Austen spends far too much time explaining the meticulous preparations. Even though the events themselves are of some interest, like when you know the secrets to a trick, they lose the initial impact. The romances between the characters are also drawn out a bit too much, which is a shame: particularly as when the characters discuss these relationships, Austen's flair for dialogue provides some biting commentary and luscious imagery,

To Austen's credit, she doesn't openly state, as narrator, 'Aren't these characters ridiculous?'; she simply shows us their attitudes and behavior, and allow us to draw our own conclusions. Personally, I enjoyed it's light touch and lack of overarching drama. As my first Austen, it wasn't too overwhelming but I did feel that because of when it was written (1816), it's lightness feels excessive nowadays and uses more words than perhaps seems necessary to tell the story.

Watching and Reading 'Jane Eyre'

Novels with a classic status which were written in the 19th century are assumed to be of a high quality and worthy literature. The undeniable difference of writing style can jar with a modern audience, as they will be more aware of the ideas and themes that the novel created. So the concept of the unreliable narrator and the mad woman in the attic (pretty much the only thing that made me want to read the novel) cause less of a shock then when originally published. So is 'Jane Eyre' still worth reading, and what impact has the recent film adaption made on it's popularity?

 

 Jane is a child who is constantly mistreated and misunderstood by adults. Then at 18, she enters the household of Mr Rochester and encounters a very different kind of gentleman. Despite being a very simple story, the novel is not an easy read and does take a long time to get through. But as with all these period novels the length is justified by creating well-rounded characters. They all have a distinct personality that prevents confusion, and as such easily allows the reader to either loathe them (such as Jane's adopted family as a child or John Rivers, a later guardian) or love them (her aid Mrs. Fairfax and Jane's childhood friend Helen). However it is clear from their first meeting that the focus of the story and our emotional involvement is with Jane and Mr. Rochester.

By having Jane narrate the story, we are allowed an insight into two seemingly impenetrable characters. Apart from with Mr. Rochester, her relationships with the other characters rarely allow her to release her emotions and thoughts, due to her low social status. They do not expect great things from her or any sense of humanity; she is just a governess, a servant, a woman. But neither does she appreciate being patronised or insulted; she has a strong personality and force of will, which only the reader and Mr Rochester are aware of. On the other hand, Mr Rochester is impenetrable because everyone wants to know and understand him but he chooses not to - except for 'plain' Jane.

It is very difficult not to be enraptured by their blossoming romance, especially if like me you are a sucker for that type of thing. It is possible to take a completely different reading and claim that their relationship is mostly based on tension, particularly with the mood swings and secrets of Mr Rochester. However this tension is often read as merely the romance being left unstated by the characters, which you wouldn't know was there if Jane didn't suggest it in her narration.

 While this is relatively unclear in the novel, the recent film adaption captured it perfectly. Like the book, by far the best thing about the film is the performances by Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender in the lead roles. For some peculiar reason, I had never imagined Jane with a Yorkshire accent, but Wasikowska was so fluent that it seemed natural and makes perfect sense, emphasising her separation to the rigid higher members of society. Throughout you are completely devoted to her character's plight, especially as we are introduced to her fleeing from the house of Rochester - a brave move but very effectively allows the story to feel fresh to those who already know the story, and provides a dramatic start for new comers.

Initially I became worried that the depth of the character would not be explored. It's innovative structure means it glosses over, perhaps too quickly, her school days. While the focus on the major set-pieces are captivating (the death of a friend, her punishment by her 'headmaster') we gain no sense of how important this environment was to her development, making her departure seem rushed and unmotivated. Nevertheless this approach pays off when the story ups a notch with the introduction of Rochester in a breathtaking Gothic sequence. By focusing on the major set pieces of the novel, with character development in between, the film provides the story with brevity that hopefully will pique the audience's interest in the novel, which provides a more detailed exploration of the characters.

The real highlights though are when the themes of the book are visualised on screen. They both explore the idea of humanity in nature, and how Jane in particular cannot resist what feels natural to her, rather than what is expected from her. While this is referenced in the book through Jane's inner conflict, the film actually places her in the middle of wilderness and moors - the images naturally recalling those depicted in 'Wuthering Heights by Charlotte's sister, Emily.

I could spend far more time describing the similarities between those two novels, but it's all been done before. Even though I prefer 'Heights' for it's unashamed Gothic darkness and ferocity, I did enjoy 'Jane Eyre' despite it's relatively lighter tone. It is well worth reading and deserve it's classic status purely through producing two captivating characters involved in a timeless and enduring romantic relationship.