Resuming My Journey Aboard Pequod, #MobyDick2ndRead Ch. 23-25

Last year I joined Brona in a Moby Dick readalong, in which I excitedly participated for several weeks, before deciding to sign off; with a vague plan to resume some day when I have more flexible schedule. And, guess what, I think NOW is the time! The pandemic has made me restless and uncertain; and I need some soothing, slow-paced books to read. Willa Cather's Song of the Lark is my main choice, and Moby Dick will be the energetic Thea Kronborg's sidekick. How's that, huh?

So, here I am, onboard Pequod once again. This time without pressure, without timeline, it'll surely be fun! I'm picking up right after I've left it last year at chapter 22. Let's go, matey!

Chapter 23: The Lee Shore

=Second and last appearance of Bulkington, supposedly the pilot of Pequod. (Why don't we hear more about him? Was it to emphasize the lack of recognition of whale men?)

=Is it a credit for untold stories of many great shipment or whalemen?

=Or praise for wide-minded people who prefer challenges of exploring the unknown rather than staying in comfort zone?

=Or maybe it's an opening of Melville's advocate of the whaling occupation? I think all of those, and I'm glad of having returned on this stage!

Chapter 24: The Advocate

=Now the real advocacy! Following previous chapter, Melville lamented the misconception of whaling and whale men. Comparing it with war, he emphasized the irony of honoring our men of war - great generals and all, who in reality is the same 'butchers' - much higher than whale men.

= Breaking down the advantages of whaling:
* Pioneer of discovering (and making way to) the remote parts of the earth (way before the much praised James Cook).

* Help bringing the liberation of Spanish colonies.

* Help clearing the way of merchants and missionaries.

* Help opening Japan after its "Sakoku" isolationist foreign policy, which have restricted relation and trade with other countries for 220 years under the reign of the Shoguns. Though my little research revealed that it was actually done by a diplomatic military ship called The Black Ship, commanded by a Matthew Perry (did FRIENDS's Chandler popped in your head at this name? LOL). I don't know. Maybe the whale men had done something important before Perry landed there, but gone unrecorded in history; who knows?

=Proofs of the honorable Whale:
*Job has written it in the Bible.

*Edmund Burke (member of British House of Commons) has speeched praises over it.

*Marcus Aemilius Scaurus, Roman Senator, has brought its bones in his victory prossession to Rome.

*Constellation Cetus was drawn from its figure.

Have ye been convinced now? No? Wait... Melville still has more up his sleeve...

Chapter 25: Postscript

Just wondering, did Melville forget to mention this on previous chapter, or is it just to emphasize its significance? :)

=Whale provides its sperm oil for the English to anoint their kings and queens on coronation. Melville put much effort to mock this process, though he must have perfectly known that the tradition was derived from the Bible - anointing oil is a symbol of sanctifying or blessing a person. He did know this, right? Again, he took this opportunity to ridicule the Church - and I suspect won't be his last.

I took the same approach of this second read of Moby Dick as last year's readalong, which is annotating-reading-listening-taking notes. I must thank Brona again for the invaluable sources she has introduced me to.

See ye in my next posts! This is beginning to be fun.. :)

Zoladdiction 2020 Wrap Up

I would never have imagined that one of Zoladdictions I host every year would be held during a pandemic. 2020 would become one of our memorable moments in life, but, maybe, more in painful ways. No, I don't think Zoladdiction 2020 was really successful, but nonetheless, we - or some of us - have at least finished one more Zola's.

For my part, I struggled a bit with The Kill, and I have to admit that Zola's books are not the best you'd enjoy during these gloomy days. Do you agree? The Kill has never been my favorite, and this second read didn't much improve either, but I think I managed to understand few things more than before.

What about you?
Have you finished a book or two?
Did you enjoy it?

And now Zoladdiction must end, which, I must admit, I'm not really sad.. :P

Thank you to all participants for reading Zola with me, and sorry for my not being a better host this time. Next year will be better! (^_^) Meanwhile, stay healthy, guys!

P.S.
Though Zoladdiction 2020 has ended, you can still leave your review link in the comment section or tag me on Twitter or IG.

Author Birthday [April]: Washington Irving

#AuthorBirthday is a monthly feature, in which I highlight one author each month, mostly the ones I have not yet read. Part of the aim is to get familiar with the author and (hopefully) encourage me to start reading his/her work.

For April, please welcome:

WASHINGTON IRVING

Born into an American merchant class family on April 3, 1783, Washington Irving was a short story writer, biographer, and diplomat. He was born on the same week of America's triumphant defeat over the British in the American War, that his mother named him after General George Washington. Later on when he was 6 y.o., George Washington, as the newly inaugurated President, blessed little Irving - an event which was commemorated in a painting hung in the family home.

From the age of 14, young Irving loved adventure stories and drama. However, the yellow fever outbreak in 1798 made his family sent him to stay in Tarrytown, nearby town of Sleepy Hollow, where he learned about Dutch customs and local ghost stories. In one of his numerous journeys, Irving passed through Catskill Mountains region, which later became the setting of one of his most notable short stories: Rip Van Winkle.

Irving's literary career began in 1802. He wrote commentaries on the city's social and theater scenes for Morning Chronicle under a pseudonym of Jonathan Oldstyle. This is only one of many pseudonyms he would use during his literary career. The famous one might have been Diedrich Knickerbocker. "What a funny way of using the baggy-kneed trousers for boys, as one's pseudonym", you would think? But the word 'knickerbocker' was actually acquired from Irving's first successful novel, published in 1809: A History of New-York from the Beginning of the World to the End of Dutch Dynasty by Diedrich Knickerbocker. Irving actually wrote the political satire himself, but to promote it, he created a hoax that "a well-known Dutch historian has been missing". He wrote announcement that if the historian did not return, he (Irving) would publish the manuscript which he had left behind. You could imagine how the readers' curiosity would have been at its highest level when the novel was finally published, that it was instantly a huge success for Irving (I can imagine how Irving would have said laughingly to his friends: Ha! They've bought my trick!" ). Knickerbocker would later be popular nickname for Manhattaners, as well as the piece of fashion as we all know now.

At the same year when he published his successful novel, Irving's seventeen-year-old fiance Mathilda Hoffman died of consumption. Her death deeply affected Irving, that he had never married for the rest of his life. He was known to have said later on: "For years I could not talk on the subject of this hopeless regret; I could not even me tion her name, but her image was continually before me, and I dreamt of her incessantly."

In 1815 Irving returned to Europe, to where earlier he has been sent by his brothers in an extended tour to improve his health. He published his notable works: The Legend in Sleepy Hollow and Rip Van Winkle in 1820, as part of the short stories collection titled The Sketch Book, under another pseudonym: Geoffrey Crayon. Washington Irving became one of the first American writers to earn acclaim in Europe. Later on he also encouraged his contemporaries' career: Melville, Poe, Hawthorne.

In 1826 Irving moved to Madrid, and was appointed as Secretary of the US Legation to London, which he served from 1829 to 1832. Some of his notable works during his stay in Spain were A History of the Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus (1828) and Tales of the Alhambra, (1832). He served as Ambassador to Spain from 1842 to 1846. In 1859, he still worked on copyright laws, and a biography: Life of George Washington, shortly before his death on November 28, 1859 at his estate.

Nowadays he is crowned as the Father of the American Short Story, which he truly deserved!

The Kill by Émile Zola [second read]

The original title of this second novel in The Rougon-Macquart cycle is La Curée, a hunting term which means the part of an animal thrown to the hounds who have run it down to the ground. Set directly after The Fortune of the Rougons, it tells the story of Aristide Rougon, the unsuccessful local journalist, greedy and money lover, who moves to Paris following his brother Eugène. In his work as a clerk, he learns much about huge reconstruction of Paris about to take place (the real Hausmannization in 1850-1860). He is impatient to take his dream and plans into action, but doesn't possess the capital. Madam Sidonie, the fourth children of Pierre Rougon and Félicité Puech, offers a solution: marrying a pregnant bourgeois girl named Renée, who is desperately seeking a "salvation" to avoid scandal. The "deal" takes place even when Aristide's wife: Angèl is dying. With the dowry from his wife, and support from the Minister - his brother Eugène, he shakes himself from his Plassans origin by assuming a new name: Aristide Saccard, and is now ready to emerge to high society.

We can see from ì, that Aristide possesses a good business instinct. Now he shows it its fullness in his capacity as real estate speculator. From his inside knowledge of the reconstruction, he knows which houses is going to be demolished to be replaced with new boulevards. He buys them cheap, then buys them back through numerous false transactions done by his agent, each time with higher price. When the city is ready to give compensation to the present owner (Saccard), the house values will be much higher than it should be, and 'gold will be pouring down' into Saccard's mansion.

Renée comes from an "old bourgeois" family, and has spent most of her life in a convent. She inherites a family home, over which Saccard knows would be build a boulevard. After marrying Saccard, Renée plunges into the society of nouveau riches of Second Empire of France with its immoral and corrupted way of life. And this is where the term la curée becomes relevant. Renée strongly rejects Saccard's proposal to part with the mansion . So in order to get it, Saccard spoils her with expensive mansion, dresses, and jewelry, and made her drunk with luxury. Every time Renée needs money, Saccard would give it her with pleasure, but asks her to sign promisory notes in return.

After having all the pleasure (including lovers) the society provide, Renée becomes bored, and longed for a new invented kind of pleasure. She finds it in Maxime, her stepson (Saccard and Angèl's only son), an androgynous young man who lives with his father and stepmother. The two soon begin an incestuous relationship, and thus Renée put herself deeper into sinful existence.

However, Saccard has another plan for his son: marrying him to Louise de Mareuil, to get into a huge dowry and higher place in society. Maxime, who gets bored to Renée's obsessive clutch of him, sees a way out by agreeing the marriage. In the attempt to run away with Maxime, Renée finally signed the deeds to her family home (planning to take the cash by herself to pay the journey), but Saccard caught the couple kissing, and took the signed deeds in triumph; stripping Renée, in the end, of happiness and luxury, amidst the pain realization of her sin. Thus Renée - symbolizes individual citizens of France - becomes the part of the animal which was won by the hounds (Saccard and Maxime, who symbolizes the nouveau riches society of the Second Empire).

I think The Kill is placed right after The Fortune not without reason. It presents the clearest and complete picture of the Second Empire's moral-corrupted society:
=Excessive luxury and pleasure
=Collapsing of family structure, changed into commercial ("The idea of a family was replaced for [the Saccards] by the notion of a sort of investment company where the profits are shared equally" ~ p.104)
=General crisis of identification and gender deviance (Maxime the man-woman whom Renée likes to dress as girl; Maxime "had taken [Renée] for a boy" before having sex in the hothouse).
=Massive speculation

All this is the result of modernization brought by Baron Hausmann. After this, Zola will break each "illness" and results down into the next eighteen novels.

On my first read, I've been focusing only to the plot (and its representation to the Second Empire); and so classified it as unimpressive. Now I've had the advantage of reading The Cambridge Companion to Émile Zola, edited by Brian Nelson, which explains a lot of Zola's numerous metaphors, which often seems unrelated when we are reading his books.

The first paragraph that describes the jammed traffic of carriages procession leaving Bois de Boulogne, for example, is not just an opening; it represents Second Empire as "a sticking pit of corruption with toxic impact on people within it". Then the people in the carriages with no name, represents "nothing human matters enough to desire motion"; they are all "standing still in a line that cannot move because it has nowhere to go". So, again, it correlates with the determinism Zola was adopting in his novels. The last chapter of The Kills shows how Renée, now returned to his father's home, wonders how she came to her downfall ("who has stripped her naked?) Renée doesn't realize of her downfall because the corruption exists inside the society - "the impact of a large group of beings has on every smaller group of beings within it". The determinism - the polluted environment in which you live will carry you to its ruin; you don't realize it when you are inside, but once out of it, you'll see it more clearly. Thus, Renée is perhaps the only one of the Rougon-Macquarts (excepting Doctor Pascal) who eventually comes to this revelation (albeit too late).

Reading The Kill during the Covid-19 pandemic brought a mixed emotion to me. I loved the picturesque prose of the first half (description of Bois de Boulogne always wakes up the artistic sense in me), then I struggled with disgust and depression during the second half, but Zola's final beautiful stroke in the last chapters left me breathless (as usual). Well, at least I understand a little more of Zola's genius after this second read.

So, final rating: 4/5

The Life of Émile Zola: An Oscars Winning Movie

You might not know that one of the movies about Émile Zola has won an Oscars in 1937. The Life of Émile Zola was also marked as Warner Bros' first Oscars for Best Picture.

The Life of Émile Zola is a biopic movie, mainly depicting Zola's involvement in the Dreyfus Affair. It was released on August 11, 1937, directed by William Dieterte. This movie also received ten nominations from the Oscars, including Best Actor for Paul Runi as Émile Zola (not won), and Best Supporting Actor for Joseph Schildkraut (which he won).

The movie opens with Zola's first arrival in Paris, staying in the drafty attic of an apartement which he shared with Paul Cezanne. Both were very poor, but luckily Alexandrine (Zola's fiancee at that time) got him a job at a newspaper. He was soon fired after publishing his novel: Claude's Confession, which the police regarded as provocative. When dining at a cafe with Cézanne, Zola helped a prostitute who was hiding in the cafe from police raid. He listened to her story, and noted her name as Nana. You must have guessed what happened next. Yes, this encounter with Nana inspired him later to write a novel titled Nana, which, according to the movie, brought him fame and success.

Zola has been living amidst luxury and comfort brought by his fame and success, when Captain Alfred Dreyfus was accused of treason. He was (according to the movie) unconcerned with this issue at first, even rejecting Madame Dreyfus who visited his house to plea for his husband's rescue. During this visit, Madame Dreyfus told him that Colonel George's Picquart had a solid proof that the culprit was actually a Major Esterhazy. It was this proof that finally intrigued Zola into action. The movie also shows Dreyfus' humiliation in a public procession and his deplorable state during the solitary prison in the Devil's Island. Schildkraut's acting here really deserved the Oscars!

But I think the climax would be the court scene, where Zola gave his speech in front of the jury. It was followed with Zola's accused of libel, his flight to London, and ended with his death of carbon monoxide poisoning from the clogged chimney.

As I don't watch much old movies, I won't discuss much about its qualities. Instead, I'm focusing much to the movie accuracy (or inaccuracy) with the book. But first of all, I must say that I don't really like Paul Runi's portrayal of Zola. He made Zola looks like a fat lazy pompous bourgeois - which might have been true, I don't exactly know - but I failed to see any trace of intelligence and vigor of a passionate writer in Runi's appearance, which you could feel from his writings. No, I think Runi has totally failed to portray Zola.

I have mentioned before how Nana was described as Zola's first successful novel. This is not accurate, though, because it's actually L'Assommoir which have first brought fame and money to Zola. That is not the only inaccuracy in this biopic. You know, I assume, that Zola died of carbon monoxide poisoning from the clogged chimney in his bedroom. Though he died in his sleep, not in his study, which this movie indicated.

I was not too familiar with the details of Dreyfus Affair, but I'm quite sure it was Zola's friends who had persuaded him to take action concerning Dreyfus, and not Madam Dreyfus, who talked and pleaded with Zola at his house to help his husband. I think Zola took action not because he took personal pity on Dreyfus, but because he was disgusted at how French army has falsely accused its member in their anti-semitic sentiment.

There were some other minor inaccuracies, like the way Cézanne broke his friendship with Zola because Zola depicted him as the mad painter in The Masterpiece. In the movie, Cézanne *only* felt weary of Zola's wealth and fame, and chose to return home. Zola's flight to London to avoid prison isn't as frantic as it should be in reality. It looks like Zola's just taking a holiday with Alexandrine. And Jeanne didn't even exist here. But of these minor inaccuracies, I realize that it will be quite complicated to include all this into a movie. So, I'm not complaining. The fact that Zola's legacies were at least honored by this biopic (and the Oscars), with a hope that more people would read his books and learn about his life, is more than enough for me.

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez

To begin with, magical realism is one genre I can hardly relate. Years ago I've read Love in the Time of Cholera, and didn't like it. I blamed my dislike of romance to be one of the causes at that time; the other is the bad translation. But afterwards, Toni Morrison got my attention, and I ended up liking Beloved - which is also of the same genre. I have avoided One Hundred Years of Solitude for a long time because I doubted I would like to read the combination of Márquez AND magical realism. But then Ruth hosted the readalong, and I thought I'd brave myself to finally read One Hundred Years and get over with. And I did. I mean, I did read it through - though not without struggle. And I finally got over it. Meaning, that I officially declare here that Magical Realism AND Gabriel García Márquez will never again be in my reading list. Never.Again.

One Hundred Years is telling the lives of Buendía family over the century. Beginning with the first generation: José Arcadio Buendía and Úrsula Iguarán, his cousin who became his wife. José founded Macondo, an isolated town in Colombia. For years he tried, but failed, to connect it with the outside world - except for the gypsies who often come to the town, led by the mysterious Melqúiades, and bring latest inventions from the outside world.

The first chapters was very engaging. I even took notes (summary) of every chapter, beginning chapter 1, but finally stopped after chapter 4. There were too many events, that they soon became rather insignificant. My real struggle began in chapter 7 or 8. I felt weary, and my head was full of strange incident after strange incident, that I have lost any emotion which hitherto still linked me with the characters. I just felt nothing, and the only reason I still continued reading, was my curiosity. Like, OK, where will these rotten people end up? Will they get better next generation? (They don't!) And reading the last chapters coincidentally with the beginning of Covid-19 outbreak, made it even harder.

From all the flawed members of Buendía dynasty, I think the one I could relate most was Colonel Aureliano Buendía, but before he became obsessed with the war. I liked his solitary existence, working hard at the laboratory, and I loved especially when he crafted his tiny golden fish. I think he's the most sensible - again, before the war-mania - of all (excepting Úrsula). With Úrsula, I felt mostly admiration. Admiration of her consistent efforts to protect and improve the family, which in the end proved useless.

One more thing that made me persevere with this book, is its similarity with Zola's Rougon-Macquart. The same hereditary corruption in a family, which, in Rougon-Macquart came from the matron, while in Buendía began with the patriarch. The same determinism, from which generations of the families could not overcome. The big difference, is that Zola instilled some hope in most of his characters.

Again, I usually don't have trouble with magical realism - why, I still read fantasy sometimes, and love Harry Potter; and I have certainly enjoyed a lot of realism books. But this magnum opus of Gabo's; it's just overwhelming. For instance, I'm still fine with the imprinted ashes on Aureliano Buendía's sons forehead, which later on marked them to be murdered. There's got to be some symbol there which I didn't even want to analyze (LOL). And when José Arcadio's blood flowing through the road and half of the town, well... it's weird but still acceptable for magical realism. But I couldn't hide my disgust any longer when Remedios the Beauty ascended to the.. sky?

So, in short, it has been a struggle for me to read this book - a winner of the Nobel Prize. I only have a vague idea that it's all about oppression and more or less political. But to me, the Buendía is just a bunch of rotten and flawed people with no hope.

I was so relieved when I have finished it, and I guess 3/5 is a very genereous rating for a book I haven't enjoyed too much!

Classics Club Spin # 23

It's Classics Club Spin time again!

I have only eight titles left on my 2nd Classics Club List, so I must double (and triple) the titles to make a list of twenty. Here it comes:

01. Dubliners
02. Song of the Lark
03. The Man Who Was Thursday
04. The Deerslayer
05. The Moonstone
06. The Red Badge of Courage
07. The Vicar of Wakefield
08. Othello
09. Dubliners
10. Song of the Lark
11. The Man Who Was Thursday
12. The Deerslayer
13. The Moonstone
14. The Red Badge of Courage
15. The Vicar of Wakefield
16. Othello
17. Dubliners
18. Song of the Lark
19. The Man Who Was Thursday
20. The Deerslayer

I have planned to read Song of the Lark next month, so... I'm crossing my finger for no. 2, 10, and 18 right now, but, is there any other title which you think I should be excited about?