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English 179: Modernism! Experimentation, Fragmentation, and Confluence,…

- - - - “[S]now was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.”
        
        Even in disagreement, people are all affected by the oppressiveness of environments
    - - “[T]he genial pretence must be kept up and the effort renewed—to communicate, to civilise, to share, to cultivate the desert, educate the native, to work by day together and by night to sport.”
  - - - "Araby" by James Joyce
        
        I lingered before her stall, though I knew my stay was useless, to make my interest in her wares seem the more real. Then I turned away slowly and walked down the middle of the bazaar. I allowed the two pennies to fall against the sixpence in my pocket. I heard a voice call from one end of the gallery that the light was out. The upper part of the hall was now completely dark.
        
        Wanting what one can't have
      - "The Tiredness of Rosabel" by Katherine Mansfield
        
        “They were married shortly afterwards at St. George's, Hanover Square, and motored down to Harry's old ancestral home for the honeymoon; the peasants in the village curtseyed to them as they passed; under the folds of the rug he pressed her hands convulsively. And that night she wore again her white and silver frock. She was tired after the journey and went upstairs to bed … quite early. … The real Rosabel got up from the floor and undressed slowly, folding her clothes over the back of a chair. She slipped over her head her coarse, calico nightdress
      - "The Walls Do Not Fall" by H.D.
        
        15.
        Too old to be useful,
        (whether in years of experience,
        we are the same lot)
        not old enough to be dead,
        we are the keepers of the secret,
        the carriers, the spinners
        of the rare intangible thread
        that binds all humanity
        to ancient wisdom,
        to antiquity;
        our joy is unique, to us,
        grape, knife, cup, wheat
        are symbols in eternity,
    - - "Prelude" by Katherine Mansfield
        
        "Such a life. It's a sad ending for poor little B. I'll get to be a most awful frump in a year or two and come and see you in a mackintosh and a sailor hat tied on with a white china silk motor veil."
      - "Eveline" by James Joyce
        
        "All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing her into them: he would drown her. She gripped with both hands at the iron railing. “Come!” No! No! No! It was impossible. Her hands clutched the iron in frenzy. Amid the seas she sent a cry of anguish."
      - "Leda and the Swan" by W.B Yeats
        
        'A sudden blow: the great wings beating still / Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed / By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill, / He holds her helpless breast upon his breast."
      - "At the Bay" by Katherine Mansfield
        
        As Stanley stumbles through the house searching for his shoes, Mansfield indirectly introduces Alice when Stanley asks, “[h]as anyone given my shoes to the servant girl?” (5). As Stanley begins to look for his walking stick, Mansfield writes that “[e]ven Alice, the servant-girl, was drawn into the chase” inquiring, “you haven’t been using it to poke the kitchen fire with by any chance?” (5). On the next page, the family expresses a wave of relief at Stanley’s leaving and Alice is again referred to as “the servant-girl” as she’s seen washing dishes and engaging in the communal rivalry at the freedom found only when “[t]here was no man to disturb them” (6). Despite having been referred to several times in the piece and having established relationships and a distinct personality within the Burnell home, Alice is again referred to as “Alice, the servant-girl” (16) in Part VIII when she’s seen leaving the Burnell house for an afternoon outing.
        
        Paralysis in objectified or commodified roles
      - Heat of the Day by Elizabeth Bowen
        
        “Stella opened her bag, began to powder her face: not knowing whether her hand would shake she did not take the risk of applying lipstick. Before putting away the mirror she examined her eyebrows, shaping them with the tip of her little finger. ‘Well? …’ she said, as though in abstraction – but there was a deadness, into which she failed to infuse expression, about her tone.”
        
        Paralysis in the face of new realities
- - - - "What did garden-parties and baskets and lace frocks matter to him? He was far from all those things. He was wonderful, beautiful. While they were laughing and while the band was playing, this marvel had come to the lane. Happy... happy... All is well, said that sleeping face. This is just as it should be. I am content"
        
        Personal experiences changing personal perspectives
    - - "Go through father's things and settle about them"
    - - "What does every story tells a picture mean? Elisabeth said.
        Today it means that I’ll describe a collage to you, Daniel said, and you can tell me what you think of it.
        Without actually seeing it? Elisabeth said.
        By seeing it in the imagination, as far as you’re concerned, he said. And in the memory, as far as I’m concerned.
        They sat down on a bench. A couple of kids were fishing off the rocks ahead of them. Their dog was standing on the rocks and shaking canal water off its coat. The boys squealed and laughed when the water fanned out into the air off the dog and hit them.
        Picture or story? Daniel said. You choose."
  - - - "Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
        Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
        And the profit and loss.
        A current under sea
        Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
        He passed the stages of his age and youth
        Entering the whirlpool.
        Gentile or Jew
        O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
        Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you."
        
        The end of the world/rapture as transformative forces
    - - "How aimless it was,, how chaotic, how unreal it was, she thought, looking at her empty coffee cup. Mrs Ramsay dead; Andrew killed; Prue dead too—repeat it as she might, it roused no feeling in her. And we all get together in a house like this on a morning like this, she said, looking out of the window."
    - - "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
        Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
        The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere"
    - - "No, no, not night but death;
        Was it needless death after all?
        For England may keep faith
        For all that is done and said.
        We know their dream; enough
        To know they dreamed and are dead;
        And what if excess of love
        Bewildered them till they died?
        I write it out in a verse—
        MacDonagh and MacBride
        And Connolly and Pearse
        Now and in time to be,
        Wherever green is worn,
        Are changed, changed utterly:
        A terrible beauty is born.
        
        Death as transformative