The Burning of Coulibri

By the time we got about halfway through with Wide Sargasso Sea, I realized that it would make a great movie.  I googled it, and indeed, two different adaptions have been made (although neither one appeared to be all that great).  So, I thought it would be fun/interesting to adapt the part that I thought lent itself best to the screen for this blog.  As you will see, I followed the book fairly closely at the beginning, and took more and more liberties and we neared the climax of the scene, in order to add drama and tension.  You can also see how I've interpreted this scene, specifically for the camera.  I decided to have the whole first part be a "long shot" (a section of a film where there are no cuts, fades, wipes, whatever - it's all a long, continuous shot) where the camera would be constantly moving, to ad tension.  Later, we would break the shot so we could see how vast the crowd really is, and then so we could get into the nitty-gritty action and chaos.  So, here is the scene that ends section section three of part one, the burning of Coulibri.

[Black.  A door opens and sheds a sliver of light on Antoinette's face, she squints her eyes open, blinded by the sudden brightness.]

Annette
Antoinette

[Annette (who is wearing sloppily put on clothes, and whose hair is disheveled) walks swiftly into Antoinette's room, and places a lit candle on her dresser.  From this point on, the lighting will be very dark - everything being lit by some sort of flame, be it that of a candle or a burning house.]

Annette
Get up and dress yourself and come downstairs quickly.  [Antoinette doesn't move]  Quickly.

[Annette rushes away, leaving the door wide open.  Antoinette lies in bed for a while longer, and we hear the hushed voices of Myra and Annette from another room.]

Annette
I cannot leave him, we must carry him.

Myra
No, it would be bad for his health.

Annette
But what if they get in and hurt him, or take him?

Myra
No, you go.  I will stay with him and make sure no harm comes to him.

Annette
I have to stay with him, I can't leave him!

[We hear the sound of wood crashing against wood, causing Antoinette to get up and get dressed.  The camera follows her in one unbroken shot as she rushes downstairs into the drawing-room, which has many of her family members and their servants there.  The camera moves on from her, to Mr Mason and circles him.]

Mr Mason
There is no reason to be alarmed, it's just a handful of drunken negroes.

[The camera (still in an unbroken shot) follows him as he walks to double doors at the opposite end of the room and throws them open.  A wave of angry shouts rolls over Mr Mason as he steps to the edge of a porch and grips onto its railing.  Blazing torches dot the shadowed crowd.]

Mr Mason
[Bellowing over the din]
What is al this?  What do you want?

[Rocks rain down on the porch, and Mr Mason rushes inside and closes the doors (the camera leads him in, the shot is still unbroken).]

Mr Mason
More of them than I thought, and in a nasty mood too.  They will repent in the morning.  I foresee gifts of tamarinds in syrup and ginger sweets in the morning.

[Pan to Aunt Cora, sitting in a chair in the corner.]

Aunt Cora
Tomorrow will be too late.  Too late for ginger sweets or anything else.

[Pan to Annette, who is leaning in the doorway.  She is in a daze, wringing her hands.]

Annette
Pierre is asleep and Myra is with him, I thought it better to leave him in his own room, away from this horrible noise.  I don't know. Perhaps…

[Her wedding ring falls off and rolls to the base of the steps, the camera follows it, and pans out as Mannie, a servant, picks it up.  Mannie gasps as he sees clouds of smoke billow out from under Antoinette's door.]

Mannie
Oh, my God, they get at the back, they set fire to the back of the house.

[Annette runs past him and into Pierre's room.  The camera continues panning back and goes in between Aunt Cora and Antoinette as Aunt Cora grabs Antoinette and pulls her into a hug, trying to shield her eyes.  Antoinette is facing us, with a look of bewilderment and pure fright and Aunt Cora is looking towards the door with bated breath as smoke billows out of it.]

Aunt Cora
Don't be afraid, you are quite safe.  We are all quite safe.

 [There are a few more tense moment of silence, and then we hear Aunt Cora gasp.  Antoinette pulls away from Aunt Cora and looks towards the door.  Framed by Aunt Cora and Antoinette's bodies, we see Annette stumble out of Pierre's room, gasping for breath, and carrying Pierre's limp, pale body.]

Mr Mason
Annette, you are hurt - your hands-

Annette
[Cutting him off, staring straight at Aunt Cora, in a stunned whisper.]
His crib was on fire.  The little room is on fire and Myra was not there.  She has gone.  She was not there.

Aunt Cora
[As she helps lay Pierre on the couch, glaring at Mr Mason]  That does not surprise me at all.  [She starts to tear her petticoat into strips.]

Annette
[Still whispering.]  She left him, she ran away and she left him alone to die.  [Suddenly, jumping up and screaming at Mr Mason.]  You fool!  You cruel, stupid fool!  I told you!  I told you what would happen again and again! You would not listen to me, you sneered at me, you grinning hypocrite, you ought not to live either, you know so much, don't you?!  Why don't you go out and ask them to let you go?!  Say how innocent you are.  Say how you have always trusted them.

[Mannie, Sass, and Christophine rush past with basins of water, and throw them in Pierre and Antoinette's rooms.]

Christophine
[On her way to get more water]
They fired the other side of the house.  They must have climbed that tree.

Aunt Cora
[To the servants.]  This place is going to burn like tinder and there is nothing we can do to stop it.  [Gathering her skirts.]  The sooner we get out the better.  [To Christophine.]  Take the child and come.

[Aunt Cora grabs Antoinette's hand and leads her out onto the porch.  The camera follows them, and as they open the doors and step out, the shouts of the crowd hit them like a wall.  In their moment of hesitation, the camera (still in the unbroken shot) circles around them.  (Through the rest of the scene, we will always hear the roar of the crowd, see their burning torches and feel their threatening presence.)  Then, Aunt Cora tugs Antoinette along.]

Aunt Cora
Come quickly.

[The camera then leads them along the veranda, around the corner, and down the stairs.  When they get to the base of the stairs, they pause and look up.  The camera follows their gaze and we see Christophine struggling down the stairs with Pierre's lifeless body.  The camera continues to pan up and we see Mr Mason struggling to pull Annette along the veranda.  During this bit of dialogue, the camera will start panning back to include Aunt Cora in the shot.]

Mr Mason
It's impossible, too late now.

Annette
But I need him!  I need Coco!

Mr Mason
You will not go back for that damned parrot.  I won't allow it.

Annette
Qui est la, Coco?  Qui est la?!

Aunt Cora
Annette, they are laughing at you, do not allow them to laugh at you.

[Annette gives in and allows herself to be pulled down the steps.  The family is all huddled together and, as the camera circles around them (from facing the house to now facing the crowd) and pans up, we see how much the crowd has closed in.  Their shouts are even more deafening now, and are underlayed with Aunt Cora feverishly muttering a prayer under her breath.  Then, we hear the neigh of horses and see the carriage, driven by Mannie and Sass, come around the corner.]

Mr Mason
Come on, for God's sake, get to the carriage, get to the horses.

[The camera pulls up, so we start to see things from more of a bird’s eye view.  The carriage struggles to get through the crowd, but it is making slow progress, like molasses in January.  The family is also trying to move towards the carriage, but with the same results.  The family and the carriage are about to meet, when the crowd falls silent and everyone looks toward the camera.  The camera pans around and we see Coco standing on the windowsill of a window in the upper floor.  The dense smoke behind Coco stands in stark contrast with Coco's flaming wings and tail feathers.  Suddenly, we end the long shot and cut to a wide shot of the house, just as Coco leaps out of the window, in a pitiful attempt at flight.  We see Coco fall all the way to the ground, and the moment of stunned silence afterwards.  Then, we cut to a close shot of the family.  The crowd, now slightly afraid of them and their bad luck, give them some space.]

Mr Mason
Get to the carriage.  Get to the carriage - hurry!

[They push towards the carriage, the crowd parting for them like the Red Sea.  When they reach the carriage, Mannie is arguing with people surrounding it.  A Crowdsperson steps in front of Mr Mason as he is about to help Annette into the carriage.]

Mannie
What are you, eh?  Brute beasts?

[There is a moment where Mr Mason and the Crowdsperson glare at each other.]

Mr Mason
[To Annette, still glaring at the Crowdsperson]  Get in.  Take no notice of him, get in.

Crowdsperson
[Holding up a machete blade that blocks Annette's way.]  No.  You will go to the police and tell a lot of damn lies.

Woman
[Grabbing on to the mans arm, speaking tenderly but with urgency.]  [name], let them go.  [Seeing he's not budging.]  All this an accident and we have plenty witness.  Myra, she witness for us.

Crowdsperson
Shut your mouth.  You mash centipede, mash it, leave one little piece and it grow again.  [beat.]  What you think police believe, eh?  You, or the white nigger?  [Mannie is about to hit him with the whip (for the horses) when he sees it and grabs it out of his hands.  He turns on Mannie.]  Run away, black Englishman, like the boy run.  Hide in the bushes, it's better for you.

Aunt Cora
[Stepping forwarded and motioning to Pierre.]  The little boy is very badly hurt.  He will die if we cannot get help for him.

Crowdsperson
So, black and white, they burn the same, eh?

Aunt Cora
They do, here and hereafter, as you will find out.  Very shortly.

Crowdsperson
[Getting in her face.]  I'll throw you on the fire if you put bad luck on me, you old, white jumby.

Aunt Cora
[Not backing down, very calmly.]  If you do not let us go, you will suffer eternal fires, with never a drop of sangoree to cool your burning tongue.

Crowdsperson
[Letting them pass.]  Damn you, old jumby.

Mr Mason
Now get in.  You, Christophine, get in with the child.  [To Annette]  Now you.

[He grabs her arm to help her in the carriage.  As she steps into the carriage, she is now able to see all of the destruction that has come and is coming to Coulibri, and she screams a bloodcurdling scream of sheer agony and sadness.  The camera pans around Antoinette as the turns to face the house (so we see her silhouetted in front of the raging fire).  Then, Antoinette see Tia.  She starts running towards her old friend.]

Aunt Cora
Antoinette, no!

Antoinette
Tia!

[Everything slows down as we cut to Tia, who sees Antoinette, throws a stone at her.  We see the stone leave Tia's hand, and then we cut to Antoinette right before the stone enters the frame and hits her in the face.  We are in a close-up of Antoinette, and as the blood starts to weave its way down her face, the chaos in the background fades to black and the roar of the fire and crowd die down.]

Antoinette
[whispered, as if from far away or in a dream]  Tia.

[Cut to a close-up of Tia, who is also in front of a black background, and who has tears streaming down her face, mirroring Antoinette's blood.  Cut back to a close-up of Antoinette for a beat.  Then we cut back to Tia.  A hand is placed on Tia's shoulder and pulls her into the black.  Just before Tia's face disappears, we cut back to Antoinette, who is pulled by an unseen hand (presumably Aunt Cora's) towards the unseen carriage.  She resists, but then is overpowered and pulled into and swallowed up by the black.]

Two households, both alike in dignity

The differences between Macon Dead II's and Pilate's households are drastic, especially when you consider that they are siblings and that he practically raised her.   The Dead household, although the traditional, nuclear (or nucular, if you're George W. Bush) family, is a significantly more, well, dead household than Pilate's is.  Pilate's household is full of singing, storytelling, and joking around, while it seems that everyone in the Dead household (especially Milkman) does anything they can to get out of it, and if they can't get out of it, then they will try and stay cooped up in their rooms.  There is no family grape-squashing time in the Dead household.  Also, the Dead household is a patriarchy, while Pilate is a strong matriarch.  Macon Dead II is the head of his house, and he is incredibly strict and cold towards his family.  Pilate, on the other hand, has a hard exterior, but if hiding a soft heart underneath.  For example, she jokes around with Milkman a lot, seemingly making fun of him, but we can tell that it is all in good fun, and that she really does care about him.

Another significant difference is the way that the two households are seen/treated by outsiders.  Macon Dead II's house is the biggest, nicest one in town.  He is rich, and feared by most of the townsfolk, who look up to him only because they are afraid of him and in awe of his money, not because they truly respect him.  He runs a successful and reputable business, and does everything he can to make sure his family, house, and other possessions are respectable too.  Pilate is almost the exact opposite of this.  She essentially lives in the ghetto, and has the disreputable job of making wine.  Her house is falling apart and she does not have any large, steady source of income.  However, she is still one of the most respected people in her community, because of her caring,  her guts, and her strength.  We can see their differences most clearly laid out in their respective most dramatic scenes.  For Macon Dead II, it is when he is talks to the drunk Porter.  Porter is wasted and threatening to kill himself, but instead of worrying about that, Macon simply demands that Porter pay him the rent he owes him.  People gather to watch the scene going on, but we can tell that, although people are fascinated by the way Macon is interacting with Porter, none of them respect him for it, they are all just scared of him.  In Pilates dramatic scene, she goes out into her backyard with a knife to confront a guy who has been harassing Reba.  Pilate does stab him, but only enough to draw blood - not enough to seriously hurt him.  In addition, throughout the whole scene, Pilate stays incredibly calm and composed; we can almost hear the cool, dangerously-calm tone of voice she has when we read the book.  Like with Macon, people gather around to watch the dramatics, and like with him, they are scared of her (c'mon, it's a pissed-off woman with a knife).  However, there is much more of an air of deep respect and approval in the air with Pilate's scene.  This may be in part because with Macon, he is driven by his greed to go and confront Porter, while with Pilate, it is simply out of love for her daughter.

The final way in which we can see differences in the households is in the way the women/children are treated.  Obviously, in the matriarchal household, the women are going to be treated with more respect.  However, think about the fact that Pilate's house is in a sketchier part of town, and there aren't any "strong, brave men around to protect and care for the innocent, weak females," but, there is a lot more caring going on in her household, than in the one with two guys and in a nice part of town.  We can obviously see this in the scene where Pilate confronts Reba's (ex) lover with a knife, however, this can also be seen at other times, like when they are all squishing the grapes for wine and simply having a good time, or when Macon Dead II walks past the house, but is drawn back to it by the singing and the warmth emanating from it.  Even Lena, during her tirade against Milkman, plainly says that the women in their house have been caring for the men for all of those years, but the men (specifically Milkman) have never once cared for the females.

However, the biggest difference between Pilate's and Macon Dead II's households, the most obvious and the most important one, is that Pilate's household has love, and the Dead household does not.  It's obvious why Milkman wants to spend so much time there (besides the sex); he actually feels loved and cared for when he’s around Pilate.  He almost feels like he has a mother.

Falling Through the Looking-Glass

In addition to being a fascinating, layered, moving paragraph, the last paragraph before the break on page 45 of Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys, also gives us great insight into Antoinette’s character, as well as her relationship with Tia.

On the surface, Tia and Antoinette are two very different girls.  One is black and one is white.  One comes from a poor family, the other from a rich one.  One is often the bully, the other the victim.  However, through all of this, Antoinette still feels pulled more toward Tia, rather than her family in a very chaotic, dangerous, intense scene.  She used to play with Tia as a child, and as much as Tia may have bullied her, she was still her only real friend.

The paragraph starts out, "Then, not so far off, I saw Tia and her mother and I ran to her…"  I find it very interesting that Antoinette says "I ran to her" rather than "I ran to them" (in reference to both Tia and her mother).  I think this goes to show how much Antoinette was focused on Tia and how much she cared about her.  The sentence continues, “… for she was all that was left of my life as it had been.”  This pretty much speaks for itself; Antoinette doesn’t really like change or the unknown and will do anything to keep her old life.

In the following sentence, “We had eaten the same food, slept side by side, bathed in the same river,” we see surface comparisons of Antoinette and Tia that highlight their similarities.  The next sentence shows her naïveté in a heartrending light.  “As I ran, I thought, I will live with Tia and I will be like her.”  The way that is it so simply stated makes it sound like Antoinette is trying to convince herself that it’s true, that she really could live with Tia and that she really is like her.  Although, I think that deep down inside she understands that that is not possible, even if she doesn’t know why.  However, she is still holding onto the last shred of hope that she might be able to keep her old life, and that people could accept her for who she is and not who she was born from.

Her hope makes the throwing of the stone all the more heartbreaking.  Not only is her friend betraying her, so to speak, but I believe that Tia throwing the stone at her is what makes her realize that she can’t keep her old life, that she can’t be like Tia, and that the infamy that she was born with will follow her for the rest of her life.

We want to hate Tia for turning on Antoinette and for dashing her hopes, however, when we see that Tia is in anguish over her action, we feel just as bad for her, and realize how similar the two girls really are.  The next few sentences really drive home that point.  “We stared at each other, blood on my face, tears on hers.  It was as if I saw myself.  Like in a looking-glass.”  This doesn’t just refer to the surface similarities (they’ve eaten the same food, they’re the same age, they’ve both got things streaming down their faces) but also the deeper one.  They are both girls who are caught in the rip tides of their respective societies and are being made to do things that they don’t fully understand or want to do.  You can tell by Tia’s tears that throwing the stone is something she regretted, so I think that she did it simply by impulse, not completely sure what she was doing or even why (like Meursault’s killing of the Arab).  On the flip side, Antoinette ran towards Tia impulsively, because being with her was where she felt the most comfortable.  The initial part of the paragraph almost feels trance-like, but when Tia throws the stone the spell is broken.

On the surface, Tia and Antoinette are two very different girls.  One is black and one is white.  One comes from a poor family, the other from a rich one.  One is often the bully, the other the victim.  However, through all of this, Antoinette still feels pulled more toward Tia, rather than her family in a very chaotic, dangerous, intense scene.  I think it's because she (probably unconsciously) understands how similar they really are and how much she cares about Tia.  As much as Tia may have bullied her when they were children, Tia was still her only real friend.

I'm No Sociopath

Since we have started discussing The Stranger in class, the term "sociopath" has been thrown around as a possible description of Meursault.  According to the colloquial idea of a sociopath - an emotionless, cold-blooded killer - it would be right.  However, simply based on the evidence from the book and the definition of a sociopath, it is highly unlikely that Meursault is one.

If anything, Meursault is closer to being a psychopath than a sociopath.  If you are to consider sociopathy and psychopathy different disorders (which many experts are no longer doing), then you would find a few subtle differences in the characteristics of those living with the disorders.  Psychopaths tend to be more violent and impulsive, whereas sociopaths are much more calculating and likely to commit a premeditated crime.  In addition, sociopaths tend to be able to maintain normal relationships, although their normality is often superficial.  Thus, Meursault is much more likely to be considered a psychopath than a sociopath because his crime was very violent, impulsive, and not premeditated.

Even so, psychopathy is not a good diagnosis for Meursault.  He would not score high on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist-Revised (PCL-R), the most common analysis of psychopathy.  We simply do not have enough evidence to assess many of the traits on the list at this point in the book.  So, I will quickly look at many of the ones that we can evaluate at this time.

• Glibness/superficial charm - You could consider his agreement (or lack thereof) and refusal to commit to anything a way of being 'superficially charming.'  This trait could apply to Meursault.
• Lack of remorse or guilt - His excessive and unnecessary guilt has come up multiple times in the book and in class.  This trait does not apply to Meursault.
• Shallow affect (genuine emotion is short-lived and egocentric) - His lack of emotion is not the same as shallow affect.  This trait does not apply to him.
• Callousness, lack of empathy - He has displayed this multiple times, most notably when shooting the Arab.  This trait could apply to Meursault.
• Need for stimulation/proneness to boredom - He sat and stared at the street he lives on for an entire day.  This does not apply to him.
• Parasitic lifestyle - He is providing for himself, and was even providing for his Maman for a time.  This does not apply to him.
• Poor behavioral control - Although he displayed this when killing the Arab, he seems to be very controlled for much of the time, especially when talking to people.  He does not give his opinion, while not rejecting theirs.  The jury is still out on this trait.
• Impulsiveness - He has displayed this a few times, most notably when killing the Arab.  Often, when psychopaths kill people, it is because they don't like the attitude or look of a person or because the person is breaking some rule that the psychopath has established for themselves.  This sounds sort of like a plausible reason for Meursault's killing of the Arab.  This trait could apply to him.
• Irresponsibility - He provides for himself, and used to provide for his Maman.  He kept Raymond from shooting the Arab.  At the same time, he killed a guy.  The jury is still out on this one.
• Promiscuous sexual behavior - Although he and Marie "hit it off" (so to speak) very quickly and many times, Meursault has stayed true to her.  This trait does not apply to him.

In order to be considered a psychopath, Meursault would have to score between a 30 and a 40 on the HCL-R.  I am estimating that he would score less than a 10.  This already pretty much rules psychopathy out as a proper diagnosis of him.  However, there may still be some doubt about why his lack of emotion does not qualify him to be considered a psychopath, so I am going to continue to go a bit more in-depth on the subject.

One of the main reasons that people have been calling Meursault a sociopath is because of his lack of emotion.  As I said before, lack of emotion is not the same as shallow affect.  Psychopaths do have emotion, it is just a smaller range and depth than "regular" people have.  There have been recent studies finding an association between the severity of a person's psychopathy and the abnormality of their brain - particularly in their amygdalae.  (The more severe the psychopathy, the more abnormal.)  These abnormalities cause emotional learning problems, which explains a lot of the issues that psychopaths have with emotions.

Psychopaths are also fascinated by normal displays of emotion.  The classic example is that if a psychopath saw a mother in the street grieving over her child who had just gotten run over by a car, they would a) be captivated by the child's mutilated body, b) not fully understand why the mother was making that face, what emotion it was, and how it was connected to the child's death, and c) go home and try to mimic her expressions.  Psychopaths will try to learn from what they see around them to assimilate themselves with "normal" society.  Thus, when you interact with a psychopath, it is very possible that their emotions will be dramatic, short-lived, and feel fake.

Although he ostensibly pointlessly murdered someone in cold blood, it is unlikely that Meursault could be considered a sociopath or a psychopath.  He scores low on the HCL-R and displays many traits that go against the most basic aspects of psychopathy.  Calling him a psychopath almost feels offensive to psychopaths.  However, I think that this makes him something worse than a psychopath  - something scarier.  His complete lack of emotion and near inability to relate to people almost makes him inhuman.

Sally and Elizabeth

I think there are quite a few parallels between Sally Seton and Elizabeth Dalloway.  In a way, I think that Sally can be seen as a sort of grown-up version of Elizabeth (or Elizabeth a younger version of Sally).

First of all, Both Sally and Elizabeth seem to be strong-minded, independent, intellectual young women.  We know all about Sally's pursuits during her days at Bourton, from introducing Clarissa to William Morris, to dreaming of starting a social revolution.  These ideas are similarly innovative to Elizabeth's studies with Miss Kilman, where she has been learning about history and politics.  Although Elizabeth never says it outright, I'm betting that she has similar aspirations to those that Sally had as a young woman.  They are/were both young ladies who are/were very openminded and eager to learn, as well as having big plans for the future.  This brings me to...

Secondly, I'm betting that they have the same future.  And no, it isn't the exciting life of a revolutionary.  We already know that Sally ends up being a housewife with 5 boys - not a much better position than what Clarissa is in.  Considering that Sally had huge ambitions as a young woman (which are very similar to those that Elizabeth has) and she ended up a housewife, I think that Elizabeth will have the same fate.  Although, I think that Sally (and hopefully Elizabeth) is a much happier woman than Clarissa is because she is much more outspoken and stands up for what she wants (even if it's the little things in life).

Finally, they have both influenced Clarissa in huge ways.  Sally and Clarissa's time at Bourton shaped a young Clarissa into the woman that she became.  This is one of the reasons Clarissa keeps thinking back on it over the course of the day.  Sally introduced Clarissa to numerous new ideas and stretched her mind and character.  Although Elizabeth is not stretching Clarissa in any way, she is still a huge part of Clarissa's life.  Of course!  She's her daughter!  Clarissa worries about her a lot, especially about what she's doing with that horrible Miss Killman, which takes up a lot of her time and energy.

The biggest flaw in this argument is that Sally is a much more energetic, outgoing person than Elizabeth is.  In fact, in their relationships, Sally is closer to Miss Kilman and Clarissa is to Elizabeth.  Both Sally and Miss Kilman are the teachers while Clarissa and Elizabeth are the students.  However, I still think that Sally and Elizabeth's love of knowledge and new ideas make them two very similar characters whose lives parallel each other.

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Septimus Speaking

One thing that stood out to me in Margaret Blanchard's article, 'Socialization in Mrs. Dalloway' was her argument that as Septimus was able to communicate better, he became cured. It was not a major point of the article, but I haven't been able to stop mulling over it. I think this fascination might be because the idea was something that I didn't think of before, but which I think rings incredibly true.

I looked back on it and noticed that the closer to 'the end' he gets, the more he communicates - particularly with Rezia. She even notices this, thinking, 'For the first time in days he was speaking as he used to do!' (on page 139) and 'He had become himself then, he had laughed then' (on page 141). Not only does this interaction make Rezia incredibly happy, but Septimus too. On page 141 he thinks, 'It was wonderful. Never had he done anything which made him feel so proud. It was so real, it was so substantial, Mrs. Peters' hat.' His communication with Rezia seems to cure him, if only temporarily. In the beginning of that section, He is incredibly worried about whether or not things are actually real. As the section progresses, and he becomes more involved with Rezia and the hat, he relaxes. He gets less paranoid as he gets more invested in dialogue.

In fact, the section right before the suicide (from pages 138-147) is probably one of the most dialogue-dense sections of the book. You'll notice that, as he devolves, the actual dialogue becomes more sparse. At first, when he is helping Rezia with the hat, laughing, and carrying on a normal conversation, there are roughly four quotes per page. However, when Rezia leaves to return the paper girl to her mother, Septimus starts freaking out again, giving us more thoughts in his head and less dialogue - whether filtered through thoughts or not. From then on, we get less and less dialogue until Dr. Holmes' final spoken line, 'Let her sleep.'

I think that Woolf uses clear, unfiltered dialogue for a couple of reasons. For one, it can represent the way that Septimus is thinking more clearly. Earlier in the day, he is barely able to register the things that other people are saying to him before his mind goes off on a tangent. Compare that to this point in time, where he can not only register what his ears are hearing, but can respond in a coherent manner. Second, I think Woolf uses straight dialogue to show us the connection that Rezia and Septimus are making. Although we do get each person's thoughts on what is going on, the dialogue is not being processed through the judgmental filter of people's brains (which are just another layer of separation between human beings).

His ability to carry on a conversation with Rezia definitely shows that he is not as paranoid and not hallucinating (at the moment), meaning that he is healthy enough to be thinking properly. However, I also think that his investment in the conversation is part of what helped him get better (even if temporarily). You know how, if you are feeling pain, you can become invested in another thing and use that to distract yourself and, for the time being, no longer feel the pain? I think that that is what is happening to Septimus when he is holding the conversation with Rezia. His whole self is invested in that interaction, so he almost completely forgets about his issues. I believe that his communication is not only a sign that he was becoming cured, but also a means to be cured.

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The Novel About Nothing

The successful TV show 'Seinfeld' is commonly called 'the show about nothing.'  They would use the most banal, everyday things, to make hilarious plots around them.  From dealing with tough servers to trying to find a parking space, they have taken the most mundane things in life, and elevated them, made them important; much like Nicholson Baker does in his novel, The Mezzanine.

Baker (or Howie) covers such simple topics as doorknobs (or the lack thereof), and still manages to make them interesting.  He shows us the personal connections that Howie makes with all these otherwise bland objects and ideas, which flavors them and makes them interesting to the reader.  The best example of this is the footnote that begins by discussing doorknobs, and ends with his (touching) excitement over the fact that a tie that he had given to his father 'fit right in!' with the rest of his father's ties.  Not only does this footnote show the reader how much Howie cares about his dad's approval, it also allows the reader to connect with Howie on a deeper level, on the basis that everyone wants approval from their own authority figure(s).  These deeper connections happen all throughout the book (and the footnotes) and are one of the reasons that The Mezzanine is more than just a bunch of little ideas and anecdotes.

Baker is also able to put his finger on many of the truths which are usually found in pithy facebook statuses with lots of likes or on the front page of reddit.  Most people usually have a hard time articulating these facts, but as soon as they see them they have mini epiphanies.  One observation that Baker made, which I found to be particularly true, is "reaching a top step but thinking there is another step there, and stamping down on the landing...'  He also states truths that are already universally known and acknowledged, but puts them in a different, more amusing light.  This is perfectly demonstrated in the passage where he talks about going to the bathroom.  "The problem for me, a familiar problem, was that in this relative silence Don Vanci would hear the exact moment I began to urinate.  More important, the fact that I had not yet begun to urinate was known to him as well."  For some, these observations - and thus Howie -  may be seen as weird or abnormal, but I prefer to see him as someone who is just like everyone, he just states more plainly things that we can't or won't.

The final way in which Baker elevates the mundane is through his use of language.  He uses colorful prose which not only captures the readers attention, but also opens their eyes to (even more) little truths.  You probably never thought of it that way before, but after he calls the heads of staplers 'brontosaural,' you will never not be able to see them as such.

Like Seinfeld, Baker's The Mezzanine puts many nothings against a clean background, making them stand out.  However, as one wise woman I met pointed out, with so many nothings, it is truly a 'show about everything.'  In the same way, The Mezzanine isn't about many nothings, it is a novel about everything.

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