Orlando

I am kind of at a loss for anything to write about but...

I thought it was interesting in class yesterday when we were talking about how Virginia Woolf bases most of her novel Orlando inside the protagonist's head. We only become familiar with her thoughts and reactions, and never with those of the people around her. Someone commented that this may be because Virginia Woolf wanted to remove the influence of the audience both inside the novel itself, and externally as she was writing it. This made me wonder what the actual audience response was in 1928 when Orlando was published? Did people see it as risque? Was it heavily criticized or praised? So... I did a little research on Wikipedia (I figured since this was a blog entry my research didn't need to come from strictly academic sources.) I will admit that it doesn't say a whole lot about the response but I did find it interesting that the author of the entry argues that Woolf used magic within the book to escape criticism for what could be considered a lesbian love storyline. Because Orlando is a man when he is involved with Princess Sasha people didn't think it was controversial even though he turns into a woman later on in the novel. The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall was published in the same year as Orlando but it was banned for dealing with lesbianism. Obviously, it was a very taboo subject and Woolf writes her story in the way she does (with a gender metamorphosis part way through) to avoid censorship.

On a final note, a fun fact: U of A's Orlando Project, a database dedicated to English female writers, is named after the novel. Ahhh, the things you learn from Wikipedia.

Thoughts and Such

This week we had to read both Boy Meets Girl and a selection from A Room of One's Own. I liked both readings and I'm happy to report that I may have actually understood them as opposed to the previous readings for our class.

First: Boy Meets Girl. The discussion in yesterday's class about whether Anthea becomes involved with Robin as a result of seeing her tag and misunderstanding the word Iphisol was interesting. When I initially read the book I thought the big moment for Anthea was when she decided to continue her streak of rebellion, leave the meeting, and go down to see what is going on with the Pure sign. This was the moment, in my opinion, that set in motion her relationship with Robin but I can't say that I attribute Anthea's decision to her curiosity about the word Iphisol. There is no evidence in the novel that suggests that Anthea knew what Robin was doing to the sign; that she knew ahead of time that Robin was the artist of the graffiti she had seen earlier in the day. In fact, she thinks that she's doing "some kind of maintenance on the sign" (42). To me it seems that the meeting between Robin and Anthea is coincidence.

Another thing that has stuck with me since I initially read the book was that Anthea's name means "a blooming of flowers" (82). We find this out right after Midge recalls that Robin adorned the letter L-E-Z with little flowerheads, "like the letters are the branches of the tree and they've all just come into bloom" (73). I'm not entirely sure whether Smith intended there to be a connection here or if I'm just reading too much into it. I'd like to think that it shows that both Anthea and Robin have had to find a positive meaning in words. Lez could be taken as derogatory but Robin chooses to make it something beautiful and Anthea thinks she's named after a character on TV when in actuality her name means so much more. I'm not sure if that really makes any sense. I'm still kind of spinning my wheels on it. Thoughts?

Finally, we didn't get to really discuss A Room of One's Own but I really liked how empowering it is for women. I loved when Woolf quotes John Langdon Davies. He said "'that when children cease to be altogether desirable, women cease to be altogether necessary'" (120). And then she uses this quote to encourage other women to go out and be something more than childbearers because they have more to offer than that. I'm definitely looking forward to discussing this reading more on Thursday.

Secrets... continued?

I was reading over my post from Tuesday and realized that I didn't really connect it to the topic at hand which is, obviously, being transgender. I think that so often people who are transgender feel like they have to conceal who they really are. Maybe this is because they feel they will disappoint their families or are afraid of the ridicule they may face because let's face it: anything or anybody that is different is going to face some ridicule. They may, and I'm not saying this is true for all transgenders but I'm sure it is for some, live their lives shrouded in secrecy, afraid to be who they want to be. But Deleuze and Guattari argue that secrets should be shared in an innocent and honest way as if to say "This secret... this secret is no big deal." Because isn't that the last thing anyone, including transgenders, want to become? A secret.

Secrets

Good grief... it seems to be a pretty common opinion in the blogs I have skimmed so far that the Deleuze and Guattari reading was challenging. And my opinion is no exception; a large portion of it was definitely over my head.

Yet, I found some very interesting points within the reading (... at least from the parts I actually understood). My favorite part of the essay was Memories of the Secret where they discuss what a secret actually is. I liked how they described that a secret is not defined only by what it contains but by how it is perceived, and by how it spreads. Anybody who finds out and perceives a secret must also be a secret meaning a blackmailer isn't just going to go up to the person they are blackmailing and say "Hi, I'm blackmailing you." As well the secret inevitably spreads. When Deleuze and Guattari describe "the secret as secretion" (287) I was reminded of poison, slowly spreading through a population and I thought that was really interesting because often secrets poison the minds of the people who know them, either through guilt or through greed.

I also really liked the way Deleuze and Guattari describe the contrast between how men and women keep secrets. Men are "knights of the secret" (289) while women are essentially, according to Delueze and Guattari's argument, gossips. However, they spin this gossiping in a positive light; while women often end up disclosing a secret, they do so in such an innocent manner that people don't really seem to notice. While I am okay with, but not thrilled about, many of the stereotypes that come with being a female and feminine (I like pink, I like makeup, I like dancing, I can be ditzy but not always) being labeled a gossip simply because of my sex has always kind of stung me. I mean I can keep a secret. Yet Deleuze and Guattari almost empower being a gossip and they seem to have a very valid point. All secrets come out in the end. Maybe it's better to just tell the secret and get the reveal over with than to let it consume you.

"Some people can talk, hide nothing, not lie: they are secret by transparency, as impenetrable as water, in truth incomprehensible. Whereas the others have a secret that is always breached, even though they surround it with a thick wall or elevate it to an infinite form" (290).