Confessions of a Mask - Yukio Mishima

Story Summary:

Confessions of a Mask, a novel by Yukio Mishima, tells the story of Kochan, an adolescent boy growing up in Japan around World War II, and his struggle with sexuality; Kochan desires social acceptance, but sees himself as fundamentally different from his peers due to his inherent sexual desire towards men and inability to force a similar desire toward women.

Reflections:

Kochan, the narrator of Confessions of a Mask, continually plays with agency when describing his life experiences. Many sentences contain diction suggesting agency—I did this, I did that. Sentences devoid of agency are just as frequent—This happened to me, I had no control over it. Oftentimes Kochan strips himself of agency intentionally, as a way of shirking responsibility for an action he feels is shameful. At other moments, Kochan’s refusal to accept agency deepens his sense of responsibility for a shameful event. While there are exceptions, the overarching theme throughout the text seems to be that Kochan describes himself in a position of agency when trying to accomplish an act he believes to be socially acceptable, even though this action he so desperately tries to take credit for is generally an act and goes against his entire being. Conversely, Kochan uses diction rejecting agency when he performs an innate, natural, and honest action—one that’s considered shameful in the society he’s a part of.

When facing a homosexual—and therefore socially shameful—desire, Kochan uses diction that suggests he is simply a victim to the forces working upon him, rather than taking agency for his sexuality and desire. When infatuated with Omi, Kochan says, “I was being tempted, not by the desire for possession, but simply by unadorned temptation itself” (72). He develops an erection while watching Omi in gym one day, and comments that, “It was enough to make me blush with shame,” and he was “afraid the other boys might notice what had happened to me.” All three of these sentences suggest an outside force that Kochan has no control over; he was “being tempted,” the feeling “made” him blush, and his natural physical response was described as a shameful act that “happened” to him. While describing his habit of masturbation, Kochan says, “My bad habit only grew the worse” (97). Although Kochan is clearly in control of this action, he sees the practice as shameful, and therefore he bestows responsibility on the shameful force rather than himself. Kochan uses this diction as a means of assuaging the shame he feels; because the action happened to him, rather than himself taking control of the action, he cannot be at fault for the shameful desires that he experiences.

Similarly, Kochan gives himself agency when trying to correct the “shameful” acts; he uses diction that suggests he is in control to gain a sense of social acceptance. After becoming aroused by Omi, Kochan says, “Then I told myself that I was no longer in love with Omi” (79). Kochan accepts agency for this action; he decides that he isn’t in love with Omi, which contrasts the “shameful” feeling that “happened” to him previously. He takes similar action in order to feel accepted by his peers during their discussion of women. Although Kochan feels no sexual desire for woman, he feels like he should; Kochan actively writes, “So in order to make my conversation consistent with my friends’, I cultivated an artificial ability to make the same association of ideas as they” (109). Kochan takes responsibility for this action; once again, a decision is made to adhere to social norms, which contrasts the shameful acts he claims to have no control over.

When it’s brought to Kochan’s attention that he is, in fact, responsible for some of his “shameful” acts, he panics and questions his sense of agency. Kochan sees that his anemia may have been caused by “self-pollution” and says, “I could feel my heart pounding with shame” (92). Here, Kochan realizes that an act he had previously described as passive and out of his control was actually his own fault, and he resumes the position of agency by acknowledging “self-pollution.” In another instance, Kochan questions whether his refusal to accept agency is the actual reason for his shameful tendencies, saying, “Was it out of laziness that I had no such dreams [of women]?” (111). The diction Kochan uses to describe his sense of responsibility and agency for his actions often reflects both how he and society view a possibly “shameful” act.

Words: 684

Zami: A New Spelling of My Name - Audre Lorde

Story Summary:

Zami: A New Spelling of my Name by Audre Lorde is a biomythography that tells the story of Audre’s life growing up as an African American in segregated America and her struggles with race, gender, and sexuality, as well as an account of the women who became her friends and lovers and their deep impact upon her life.

Reflections:

In Zami: A New Spelling of my Name, Audre can recollect and identify certain situations and people from her childhood based upon the way that they smelled. For example, Audre recalls shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor that: “I could tell something real and terrible had happened from the smell in the living-room air” (53). These smells remain as stronger and more permanent memories than those she gained from either sight or sound, perhaps due to her hindered vision. Furthermore, the strong scents are generally unconsciously connected to either Black or white, which deepens the level of separation between the two races as it attaches a more negative sentiment to white and positive sentiment to Black.

There are several moments within Audre’s childhood where she associates a smell with something white in a negative way. On page 60, after being forced to stay after school to practice Latin (something a white teacher made her do, but that the other white students were not required to do), Audre recalls: ”Sometimes on Wednesday nights I would dream of the white, acrid-smelling mimeograph sheet” (60). Here, not only is Audre associating a smell with a negative experience induced by white people, she’s negatively associating the smell with the concept of “white” as a whole. Even the mimeograph sheet is white, and its “acrid” scent proves its unpleasantness.

Conversely, Audre associates positive smells with Black people or things. When she was a child, she remembers her mom as “She breathed exuded hummed the fruit smell of Noel’s Hill morning fresh and noon hot,” and associating these things with home and family (13). She also remembers close times with her mother, and “the warm mother smell caught between her legs” (33). These smells have a wholly positive connotation, and their connection to “Black” further separates them from the negative “white” smells. On page 36, Audre even changes an object from white to black with vanilla extract, saying, “I loved the way the rich, dark brown vanilla scented the flour clay” (36). Here the difference between the concepts of “Black” and “white” is painfully obvious, and once again attached with a strong olfactory sense. Audre remembers the “dark” brown vanilla scent changing the white clay from something too white and undesirable to something entirely pleasant.

The difference between “white” smells and “Black” smells is made very obvious on page 60, when Audre’s classmates tell her that she “stinks,” and her teacher further reinforces this fact: “She told me she felt it was her christian duty to tell me that Colored people did smell different from white people, but it was cruel of the children to write nasty notes because I couldn’t help it” (60). While the other smells associated with white and Black were unconsciously attached to a negative or positive sentiment, respectively, this experience brings blatant attention to the problematic associations. By asserting that Black people inherently smell very different than white people, the teacher is making the rift between the two concepts even deeper than the unconscious associations had. This statement makes it the other scent associations no longer seem accidental, but intentional and without hope for change. Although this observation does not remain true much further past Audre’s childhood, as she establishes entirely positive relationships with whites, the positive and negative associations connected to “black” and “white” scents in her childhood mark those years and still leave a lasting “scent” throughout her life.

Words: 571

Times Square Red - Samuel Delaney

Story Summary:

Times Square Red by Samuel Delaney is an analytic essay, and the second portion of a two-part book that focuses on the renovation of Times Square; this portion describes the two main methods of interpersonal communication, contact and networking, and argues that although both are beneficial, contact is the superior of the two and society must work to encourage it rather than continue along its current networking-based path.

Reflections:

In Times Square Red, Delaney makes a clear distinction between the terms “contact” and “networking,” and works hard to prove why “contact” is the superior of the two as a means of interpersonal connection. While he acknowledges that the two aren’t complete opposites and commonalities between the two terms exist, he also defines them in specific ways and provides specific examples of both. While Delaney sees some good in “networking,” he overlooks some of the major overlaps and benefits it has with “contact,” chiefly in his anecdote on page 133 about a young man climbing through his window and into his bed after a social networking event.

Delaney says that the young boy’s “view of what was to be gained by networking was… sadly inflated” (133). The boy’s attempt at networking is described as an example of “the ‘heroic’ extraliterary act,” meaning that he stepped out of the traditional networking space in order to gain attention from someone in a position of power (133). Delaney says that the attempt was ultimately unsuccessful, as ultimately his career was not furthered by the networking; one of the chief reasons he believes contact to be much more beneficial. What Delaney fails to note in this situation is that contact, the kind he so vigorously praises, is entirely present in this “networking” situation.

Delaney said that his “postcoital conversation lasted till dawn” with the young boy (134). He originally describes contact as: “Very importantly, contact is also the intercourse—physical and conversational—that blooms in and as ‘casual sex’” (123). Under this definition, it is clear that his “postcoital conversation” is very much contact. Contact is also very much based upon its pleasantness (183). In this scenario, we assume the sexual encounter is pleasant, and it mirrors many of the other encounters Delaney describes as contact. It is important to note that Delaney acknowledges “networking” as a pleasant experience as well, but in a very different way. The pleasantness present in his sexual encounter with the boy is nowhere to be found in his definition of “networking.” In fact, it goes against it; networking is described as being “safe, monitored, controlled, under surveillance” (193). It is also “heavily dependent on institutions to promote the necessary propinquity… where those with the requisite social skills can maneuver” (129). The sexual encounter described does not occur in an institution, and it is certainly not monitored or controlled. It maneuvers outside of the “safe” typical networking zone. In this way, his “networking” encounter with the boy seems to resemble “contact” even more strongly.

The reason Delaney placed the anecdote under “networking” rather than “contact” was its original premise; the boy’s initial reason for communication, which was one primarily selfish and motive-driven. It was also premeditated, whereas “contact” is primarily random. However, the reason that the contact-like situation came to be seems almost irrelevant when looking at its overall outcome. Although the boy was trying to further his own professional career by “networking,” a pleasurable contact situation arose regardless.

Delaney writes, “Certain benefits from contact, networking simply cannot provide” (173). He proves this to be true in a professional sense; it seems that more careers were furthered through contact than through networking. And yet, in this anecdote, we can see that this statement isn’t entirely true. Networking can provide several benefits that contact provides, until ultimately the line between the two terms is a little more blurred than what Delaney makes them out to be.

Words: 576

Times Square Blue - Samuel Delaney

Story Summary:

Times Square Blue by Samuel Delaney uses personal anecdotes to argue that the former existence of sexually liberating establishments in New York fostered healthy social relationships, and that their disappearance further encourages class separation.

Reflections:

In Times Square Blue, physical appearances are strongly linked to one’s position of power within society. While this statement may seem somewhat self-evident, the relationship between power and beauty is a complex one; it relies upon both how others view a person’s beauty as well as how a person views their own beauty. On the other hand, while possessing physical beauty often puts a person in a position of power, it can also objectify them, as they are viewed as a sexual object rather than a human being.

It is obvious in Times Square Blue that Delaney was not choosy when he selected sexual partners, suggesting that physical attractiveness is not a power factor for a person. However, there is a clear relationship between beauty and power evident throughout his anecdotes. Delaney tells an anecdote about Kevin, a man who was “an exemplar of male beauty that still, in memory, remains powerful for me” (41). Later, Kevin becomes homeless and is seen digging through garbage cans, at which point, “The power was gone… Why this one should be sadder than the other, I’m not sure” (42). The reason Delaney “was not sure about” can be pointed back to the man’s physical beauty and it’s loss; Kevin lost his beauty, and therefore lost his power. It’s no mystery that beauty gives a person power; for example, Arly “was attractive enough—and big enough—that he could afford to be choosy.” (51). Possessing beauty is an asset that can afford a person several benefits the less attractive lack, and yet it also has a downside.

One of the anecdotes early on describes an extraordinarily attractive young man at a pornographic movie theatre. Many men approached him to offer sex, to which he politely turned them away. Here we see power; the man has his choice of partners, but refuses. This is not a new concept. And yet, while the boy is given power, he is also somewhat stripped of it; people in the bathroom made comments such as, “‘That straight kid over there—beating off? He’s gorgeous. Why isn’t anybody doing him?’” (21). These comments objectify the boy; because he is beautiful, he is assumed to be sexually available. This idea is also evident with Arly and his “wife”; Arly says, “She don’t speak no English, but she loves to take care of me… almost as good as you used to. Isn’t she beautiful man?... Isn’t she the most beautiful woman in the world?” (55). Although Arly’s unnamed wife is also described by Delaney as beautiful, Arly believes her to be the “most” beautiful, due to the fact that she caters to his every need and desire. It could be assumed that the girl’s intense beauty would put her in a position of power, and yet she is painted as more of an object than an authoritative and strong woman.

Furthermore, a person who is unaware of their beauty cannot exercise their full amount of power. Hoke tries to hide his hands, “‘Cause they’re so big and ugly,” but Delaney tells him, “I think you have the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen” (100). While Delaney places Hoke in a position of power, evident by his intimidation of him and fear of rejection, Hoke is oblivious to the power his beauty gives him, and therefore does not capitalize on it. Hoke believes himself to be unattractive, which would strip him of power instead of providing it. This is seen in the anecdote about Ana, who says, “‘Well… I was scared to death!” … “The people weren’t as pretty as I thought’” (30). Similarly to how people with beauty also possess (a form of) power, people who lack beauty not only lack this power, but are seen as frightening, which strips their power down even further. Hoke was an interesting case, because he believed himself to be unattractive, therefore lacking power, but he was perceived as attractive, therefore giving him power.

Words: 658

Giovanni's Room - James Baldwin

Story Summary:

James Baldwin’s novel Giovanni’s Room tells the story of a young man, David, and his struggle with identity, masculinity, and sexuality; David moves to Paris and enters into a confusing relationship with an Italian man, Giovanni, while simultaneously harboring a long distance relationship with Hella, who he intends to marry.

Reflections:

In Giovanni’s Room, the word ‘darkness’ is predominantly accompanied with a very negative concept in which a gleam of light occasionally tries to break through to offer a small amount of hope, however ineffective. When the darkness becomes overwhelming, the characters sometimes attempt to produce their own light to alleviate the pain. David and Giovanni struggle to escape the severe depths of the darkness, despite the small amount of protection it offers them. In the end, David is left struggling to find light and Giovanni ultimately succumbs to the darkness.

Throughout the novel, David often tries to flee the darkness, though it accompanies him wherever he goes. ‘The dark’ often represents sexual encounters he views as shameful, as it is used to describe both polygamous and ‘dirty’ homosexual relationships as well as his short rendezvous with Sue, during which he says, “Then it was over, and the dark, tiny room rushed back. And I wanted only to get out of there” (100). David not only looks for a way to escape the dark, he also tries to ignore it. Jacques points out that embracing the dark would be less shameful than fleeing it, saying, “Think… of the men who have kneeled before you while you thought of something else and pretended that nothing was happening down there in the dark between your legs” (56). For David, the darkness is a representation of all things shameful and discriminatory, and yet, although he tries to escape to artificial light, it offers him a strange sense of protection. Perhaps David’s biggest concern is how he is viewed in the public eye, and what happens in the “dark” protects him from his worst fear. When it was suggested that he drunkenly flirted with another man, David says, “My memory of that night was, happily, very dim” (27). Here, the darkness of his memory acts as a shield, as the darkness shields his ‘shameful’ actions from the public. And yet, although the darkness is a temporary cover-up to the public, David tries to find light to cover up the darkness for himself. He often lights cigarettes in “dark” situations, which creates a tiny amount of light and offers him a small escape from the darkness. After his encounter with Sue, he tells her to keep a candle in the window. David finds a way to create temporary “light and safety,” but is still consistently plagued by the darkness (104).

Giovanni similarly struggles with the dark, and uses David as his own shield. On page 88, David says that, “Though Giovanni smiled his humble, grateful smile and told me in as many ways as he could find how wonderful it was to have me there, how I stood, with my love and my ingenuity, between him and the dark” (88). Similarly to David, Giovanni is afraid of the dark, however, once David is gone, he is unable to create his own light as a replacement shield. On the morning of his death, David reflects, “I suppose they will come for him early in the morning, perhaps just before dawn, so that the last thing Giovanni will ever see will be that grey, lightless sky over Paris” (71). Although he is on the brink of light, Giovanni is unable to escape the darkness. He is killed struggling to flee the darkness after David, his only protection, leaves him without any further light.

Words: 565

Death In Venice - Thomas Mann

Story Summary:

Thomas Mann’s novel Death In Venice tells the story of the writer Gustav von Aschenbach, who travels to Venice as the result of an overwhelming desire for exploration induced by his old age; Ashenbach consequently becomes obsessed with a young boy named Tadzio during his stay in the disease-ridden city, which ultimately leads to his death.

Reflections:

Death in Venice contains many contradictions juxtaposed together; these juxtapositions reveal Aschenbach’s inability to make a rationalized and resolute decision. From beginning to end, Aschenbach consistently contradicts himself in thought, and it is this behavior that ultimately leads to his death at the end of the novel.

While Aschenbach’s inability to decide between two conflicting notions is often fairly obvious and spelled out for the reader, quite a bit of the novel’s diction enforces this idea more subtly. The book is peppered with phrases such as “proud shame,” “agreeably restless,” and “fatal gift” (16, 89, 96). Contradicting ideas are frequently juxtaposed together, causing confusion for the reader that echoes the confusion that Aschenbach experiences. Phrases such as, “surprising yet at the same time self-evident,” and “joy and agony of his soul” further enforce the internal struggle Aschenbach continually encounters when trying to make a resolved decision between two conflicting notions (26, 73).

In addition to the many small phrases used throughout the text, there are several notable overarching contradictions employed as well. Aschenbach’s relationship to Tadzio is perhaps the most troubling contradiction seen throughout the text. For example, Aschenbach generally refers to Tadzio, the boy he loves, as a thing rather than a person. When Aschenbach discovers Tadzio’s name, “He liked the sound of it: he found its euphony appropriate to the object in question” (57). Aschenbach holds Tadzio to a higher esteem than any other human he’s encountered; he loves the sound of his name as much as he loves the boy, and yet he continually refers to him as an “object.” Later, while watching Tadzio, Aschenbach describes him as “the chosen one looking up at his inferior, his servant” (81). Aschenbach refers to Tadzio as both an object, implying inferiority, and as being on the same level as a god, implying that he is the inferior in the situation. In addition, there is a moment where Aschenbach realizes that Tadzio has several physical flaws, implying ill health, and thinks, “He’ll probably not live long. And he made no attempt to account for why he felt satisfied or consoled at the thought” (62). Aschenbach loves Tadzio more than he can express, and yet he is slightly gladdened by the prospect of his death. This theme continues further into the text, and a similar sentiment ultimately leads to Aschenbach’s, and perhaps also Tadzio’s, death.

When Aschenbach learns of the disease raging through Venice, he is “feverish with agitation, triumphant in his possession of the truth, a repulsive taste in his mouth, and fantastic horror in his heart” (124). While he considers telling Tadzio’s family to leave, he passes up the opportunity to save him. He struggles with this decision, and experiences guilt after resolving to keep quiet. Here, the “fantastic horror” is too tantalizing pass up, despite its contradiction within itself. Once again, Aschenbach is plagued by indecision spurred by competing notions. His inability to come to a sound decision backed by logic causes him to stay in Venice, and presumably catch the disease that kills him when it could have been prevented.

The contradictory diction in Death In Venice is representative of the contradictions that consistently plague Aschenbach. These ultimately cause Aschenbach’s death, as his inability to choose between competing notions and make resolute decisions spur him to remain in the dangerous city that eventually kills him.

Words: 558

The Collected Poems - Cavafy (Part 2)

Story Summary:

The Collected Poems is Evangelos Sachperoglou’s translation of C.P. Cavafy’s poetry; Cavafy often uses history as a context for his fictional poems, which frequently comment on overarching themes such as homosexuality, art, and beauty.

Reflections:

Cavafy’s poem “In Despair” on page 141 tells the story of two lovers’ tragic split. It is narrated in third person, with the subject(s) of the poem only named as “He.” By analyzing the diction and syntax used in the poem, the reader can conclude that the relationship in question is homosexual, and more than one man is the subject of the poem. Because the references to “he” and “him” are left ambiguous, we are uncertain which lover is being referred to at which time. In the middle stanza, there is the possibility of a role reversal between the two men and which man is speaking. The first stanza of the poem starts with man A mourning the loss of man B; the last stanza of the poem can be read as man B mourning the loss of man A, with the switch occurring in the middle stanza. Reading the poem in this way indicates that both men truly loved one another, and are unsatisfied with their decision to separate due to social and moral pressures.

The middle stanza of the poem contains the lines, “he wanted to be saved from such a stigmatized, wasteful carnal pleasure, / from such a stigmatized, carnal pleasure of shame. / There was still time—so he said— for him to save himself.” The concurrent lines about “carnal pleasures” indicate a possible switch in speaker—here, the same thought is rephrased in a very similar, but slightly different way. The similarity accounts for the men’s common experience and emotions, but the difference portrays each man’s own account of what happened. This is further supported by how the lines about “carnal pleasures” are accompanied. The first section of the stanza, reads that man B told man A, “he wanted to be saved” (from carnal pleasures). Then the switch occurs—here man A is telling man B that he could “save himself” (from carnal pleasures). “He wanted to be saved,” is a passive statement—man B believes that someone else must do the saving. However, “save himself,” is active—man A takes initiative for this saving. Because “he wanted to be saved,” and “save himself,” are incongruent, the poem indicates a possible switch in subject.

Man A starts off the poem mourning man B; he loves man B and attempts to find someone who he can love in the same way. The middle stanza starts with man B explaining to man A why he cannot be with him (social/moral pressures). Then the switch occurs—man A explains back to man B why he can’t be with him. Their reasons are the same, and we believe that although both men loved one another, they forced a reason to justify their separation. In the last stanza, man B is mourning the loss of man A and has similar thoughts—he too is searching for someone to remind him of his lover in a feeble attempt to relive their forbidden love.

Ultimately, reading the poem with the switch between male subjects indicates that both men truly loved one another in a very similar way. Their lost love is tragic for both parties, not just one of them (as could be assumed upon reading the poem without the switch).

Words: 539

The Collected Poems - Cavafy (Part 1)

Story Summary:

The Collected Poems is Evangelos Sachperoglou’s translation of C.P. Cavafy’s poetry; Cavafy often uses history as a context for his fictional poems, which frequently comment on overarching themes such as homosexuality, art, and beauty.

Reflections:

Although “Satrapy” contains no explicit references to homosexuality, the poem’s content can be read symbolically as a man’s inner struggle with his sexuality. The poem is written to a man who is pressured into leaving his home land to live in a territory ruled by the satrap Artaxerxes. Despite the literal subject of the poem—satrapies—homosexuality is a reasonably inferred theme. The subject of the poem gives up his personal and innate desires in exchange for social acceptance; this concept is easily applied to closeting oneself in order to achieve a presumably “normal” and accepted lifestyle.

Under the “History” section of the introduction, Peter Mackridge writes that, “The ‘poet-historian’ subverts the work of the historian in order to see, by means of sensual intuition, something different in it, something personal, individual, and subjective, and to present an alternative view to the prevailing one” (xxvi). Essentially, it is entirely plausible that Cavafy wrote his historical poems to evoke emotion pertaining to a different, but related, issue. Cavafy uses history in “Satrapy” to tell the story of a man’s struggle with territories and rulers, but the “alternative view” could be the man’s struggle with his own homosexuality—an issue that is “personal, individual, and subjective.” Although “Satrapy” isn’t necessarily about homosexuality, it is reasonable to read it through that lens.

The poem starts off with, “What a misfortune, though you’re made for noble and prodigious deeds, this unjust fate of yours always denies you encouragement and success” (29). The introduction states that Cavafy most likely believed that one is born homosexual (xx). With this context, the first line of “Satrapy” can be read as an indirect comment on this belief; “though you’re made for noble and prodigious deeds” implies that the subject of the poem was indeed born homosexual, and that homosexuality should be celebrated and embraced. The second clause, “this unjust fate of yours always denies you encouragement and success,” describes how homosexuality is viewed by society—as something inherently bad and dooming to a person’s reputation. Through no fault of his own, the subject was born homosexual and condemned for it, which leads him to “give in” to societal pressures and adhere to social norms, i.e. closet himself. The speaker comments on how tragic this is, saying, “what a frightful day when you give in.”

When offered satrapies by Artaxerxes, the subject “accept[s] them in despair, those things [he does] not want.” The speaker continues, telling the subject, “Your soul craves other things.” Here, the subject is scrutinized for his choice to conform to the social norms that go against his very being. The subject “gives up” his innate homosexual lifestyle and hides his desires in order to attain social acceptance. The poem ends with the lines, “How can you get any of these from Artaxerxes? Where in a satrapy can any of these be found; and what a life, without them, will you live?” The speaker frantically questions the subject; implying that if he continues to suppress his desires, his life will be tragic and wasted.

Although “Satrapy” has no explicit reference to homosexuality, Cavafy may have used history in this poem to indirectly comment on the inner struggle for acceptance that homosexuals face. Furthermore, the struggle is not simply pointed out; the speaker urges the subject to accept his innate homosexuality, regardless of social scrutiny. Although history and literal meanings take first precedence in Cavafy’s “Satrapy,” homosexuality can be reasonably deduced as an underlying theme.

Words: 578

The Importance of Being Earnest - Oscar Wilde

Story Summary:

The Importance of Being Earnest is a play by Oscar Wilde about the lives of two young men, Jack and Algernon, and their invented alter-egos, both named Ernest; when pursuing their love interests, the men find themselves caught in their lies as both fake Ernests are revealed.

Reflections:

In The Importance of Being Earnest, the four main characters take great pains to establish themselves as different from the social norm. They each strive to ensure they don’t fall into the category of “typical,” as being typical is boring and unfashionable. Consequently, the characters are drawn to one another and form relationships based upon this common desire.

On page 22, Cecily hopes that a novel being discussed will end tragically, saying, “I hope it didn’t end happily? I don’t like novels that end happily. They depress me so much” (22). This statement defies the social standard in two ways. It can be assumed that the majority of novels written in her time period end happily; Cecily announces her preference for sad endings, because sad endings are less common. Furthermore, Cecily goes against the social norm when she asserts that happy novels “depress” her. Generally, happy endings make a person feel happy, and tragic endings make a person feel sad. Cecily refuses to let herself fall into this standard category, so she decides to reverse the typical emotions evoked from a happy story in order to differentiate herself from mainstream society.

Cecily’s main goal throughout the story is to assert herself as being unique, and she chooses her relationships based upon the same sentiment. Cecily is drawn to Algernon, even before their first interaction, because she idealizes him as being “wicked” and possessing a major disregard for socially sanctioned rules. On page 24, she says, “I have never met any really wicked person before. I feel rather frightened. I am so afraid he will look just like everyone else.” Cecily is not really afraid of Algernon’s “wickedness,” she relishes it because it separates him from conventional society—the biggest disappointment at risk is the possibility that Algernon will be completely normal. Fortunately for Cecily, Algernon defies social standards as well. On page 1 of the novel, he tells Jack, referring to the piano, “I don’t play accurately—anyone can play accurately—but I play with wonderful expression.” Like Cecily, Algernon takes great strides to make sure people know that he’s different from the average citizen and breaks social norms on a regular basis.

Jack and Gwendolyn also establish their desire to escape monotonous social standards. Jack quite blatantly vocalizes this desire several times throughout the play, saying things such as, “For Heaven’s sake, don’t try to be cynical. It’s perfectly easy to be cynical,” and, “I am sick to death of cleverness. Everybody is clever now-a-days” (7 & 16). Jack feels the need to make sure his comrade knows his utmost disdain for the average. Gwendolyn illustrates the same sentiment as well, saying, “I have known several Jacks, and they all, without exception, were more than usually plain. Besides, Jack is a notorious domesticity for John! And I pity any woman who is married to a man called John.” (11) Gwendolyn decides she could never be with a man who has such a common name as “Jack” or “John,” because it’s not fashionable to be like everybody else. In this sense, Jack and Gwendolyn are a perfect match, just as Algernon and Cecily are; each character despises the idea of being “typical,” and seek what is atypical.

Words: 537

Philosophy in the Bedroom - Marquis de Sade

Story Summary:

Marquis de Sade’s shockingly graphic dialogue Philosophy in the Bedroom follows several libertine characters and their efforts to corrupt and sexualize a young virgin girl named Eugenie; Dolmance, the assumed expert and primary teacher, converts her by demonstrating acts of sodomy, torture, and sexual orgies with the other educators—teaching her to seek personal bodily pleasure no matter what the cost to anybody else.

Reflections:

Dolmance, Eugenie’s primary “educator,” uses Nature as an alternative to God as a basis for his libertine teachings. He explains and justifies his actions throughout dialogue V by insisting that Nature—essentially human impulse—propels his selfish and “criminal” sexual conduct. Although Dolmance is successful in convincing young Eugenie that using Nature as a means of justification for libertinism is gospel truth, his argument is consistently flawed and full of contradictions.

One of the most obvious contradictions apparent in the text concerns Dolmance’s relationship with women. He tells Eugenie over and over again that as a woman, it is her life’s duty to “fuck,” and essentially succumb to a man’s sexual wishes as demanded by Nature. At the start of Eugenie’s “education,” Dolmance tells her to, “Consider that every provocation sensed by a boy and originating from a girl is a natural offertory, and that your sex never serves Nature better than when it prostitutes itself to ours; that ‘tis, in a word, to be fucked that you were born, and that she who refuses her obedience to this intention Nature has for her does not deserve to see the light longer” (267). Here, Dolmance is telling Eugenie that sex between a man and a woman is Natural, with the woman being the passive lover. Later, when offered Eugenie’s virginity, Dolmance refuses, saying, “Tis out of the question, my angel, I’ve never fucked a cunt in life” (291). Dolmance will only take part in anal intercourse, and indicates an obvious preference to men. Although he argues that anal sex is Natural, he also established that traditional intercourse between a man and a woman is supremely Natural. Therefore, by refusing to take part in vaginal intercourse, Dolmance is essentially refusing a large part of Nature itself, the thing in which he bases his entire life off of.

The concept of sympathy is also another large contradiction within Dolmance’s standard of Nature. On page 283, Dolmance says that “There is no possible comparison between what others experience and what we sense; the heaviest dose of agony in others ought, assuredly, to be as naught to us… the immense sum of other’s miseries, which cannot affect us.” He argues that any other human’s feelings do not matter, as one can only feel their own. Therefore, inflicting pain for one’s own personal pleasure is a Natural act—sympathy does not play a role in this. However, when Eugenie is painfully stripped of her virginity, Madame de Saint-Ange, a libertine naturalist as well, says, “Dear heart, kiss me, I sympathize with you” (293). The fact that Madame feels bad for Eugenie disproves Dolmance’s teaching that Nature is not sympathetic; clearly sympathy naturally arose within Madame.

Furthermore, Dolmance teaches that there is no benefit to pleasing someone else, as one can only feel their own body. On page 345, he says, “Tis false as well to say there is pleasure in affording pleasure to other; that is to serve them, and the man who is erect is far from desiring to be useful to anyone else.” However, during several of their orgies in the beginning of dialogue V, Dolmance insists upon every member having an orgasm together. This suggests that Dolmance indeed has desire to experience pleasure together; the pleasure of his partners enhances his own. Dolmance’s Natural instinct during sex was to enhance the pleasure of each person—a direct contradiction to his argument that Nature is supremely selfish and the feelings of others are irrelevant.

Although Dolmance uses Nature as the basis for his teachings, many of his arguments are severely flawed. Dolmance argues that sex between a man and a woman is Natural, and yet he won’t partake. He also argues that is Natural not to sympathize with any other being’s emotions but one’s own—and yet, clearly sympathy Naturally arises. Ultimately, these contradictions within his argument undermine his justification for a libertine naturalist lifestyle.

Words: 652

Edward the Second - Christopher Marlowe

Story Summary:

Christopher Marlowe’s Edward the Second is a historical play about England’s King Edward II, who shirks his kingly duties in order to instead dote upon his lover, Gaveston; Gaveston, hated by the nobles of England, is subsequently killed, and his death leads to a huge revolt between King and noblemen that results in Edward’s demise.

Reflections:

Although homosexuality in Edward the Second could easily be seen as the play’s primary topic of concern, a deeper problem is responsible for the King’s eventual demise. The nobles of England did not reject Edward solely because of his lover Gaveston—they rejected him because he was majorly disrupting the social order. On page 76, Lancaster says, “The worst is death, and better die to live, / Than live in infamy under such a king” (76). As Gaveston is long dead and therefore no longer an issue at this point in the play, “such a king,” is referring to a much bigger problem. Edward directly defies several main staples of the social order, such as distinct class divisions and their monarchic society as a whole. The nobles then revolted against their King, fearing this terrible disruption that jeopardized the organization of their favorable society.

King Edward rejects social order when he defends Gaston’s less-than-noble class. Gaston is oftentimes referred to as “base,” a slang word for bastard that also connotes lower class. Mortimer Junior shows his obvious disdain for Gaveston’s class when he says, “But this I scorn, that one so basely born / Should by his sovereign’s favour grow so pert” (37); this sentiment is a common theme amongst the other nobles as well. Not only does Edward disregard Gaveston’s lower class by accepting him as his cherished lover, he also defends it and threatens to completely overturn their social order, saying, “Were he a peasant, being my minion, / I’ll make the proudest of you stoop to him” (21). This risks everything that the nobles hold sacred—their very wellbeing depends upon class division. By threatening to make nobles bow down to someone so “base,” Edward is defying one of the most important social norms. Even worse is when the king brings Gaveston up to his own level, saying, “Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee! / Why shouldst thou kneel; knowest not who I am?” (11). Edward, being king, is the top tier in the social ladder—even his wife Isabella addresses him as “my lord.” By allowing Gaveston to embrace him in greeting, rather than address him with traditional titles and respect, Edward shatters all social norms regarding class division.

Edward’s clear disregard for his kingly duties is another way in which he rejects social order. Not only does he shirk his duties, he often vocalizes how much he doesn’t want to be king. This instills fear in the nobles, as their monarchy—the government system used for centuries—is ultimately threatened. On page 22, the King tells Pembroke to, “Make several kingdoms of this monarchy, / And share it equally amongst you all, / So I may have some nook or corner left / To frolic with my dearest Gaston.” His priorities here are clearly personal; he has no interest in being king, he only has interest in his lover. He even goes as far as to suggest breaking up the entire monarchy of England—a grave offense to the nobles. Furthermore, Edward disregards the country’s wealth when he states, “And could my crown’s revenue bring him back, / I would freely give it to his enemies” (31). Edward’s clear neglect for his kingdom disrupts the social foundation on which his country thrives; this same threat ultimately leads to his demise.

Although Edward’s love for Gaveston is the primary contributing factor to his failure as king, the real issue at hand is his eagerness to overturn England’s social order. On page 35, Mortimer Senior admits that, “The mightiest kings have had their minions.” Had King Edward “had his minion” without disrupting social norms, he could very well have successfully reigned as king. However, because his love for Gaston resulted in his total disregard for the social hierarchy, he was eventually overturned.

Words: 636

Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500—1800 (Part II)

Story Summary:

Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500—1800 studies how homosexual behavior was perceived and received in the time and place outlined in the title; the author argues that the phrase “homosexual” and its current meaning did not exist during that time, and that “homosexual” behavior was instead broken down into separate actions and mannerisms that took on very different social contexts.

Reflections:

In Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500—1800, the concepts of “refinement,” the “inclination to beauty,” and “passionate love,” seem to be very closely related. However, although connected, the way in which the concepts relate to one another does not always match up. El-Rouayheb offers factual evidence that seems to occasionally undermine other evidence. For example, he established a clear connection between “refinement,” and the appreciation (or inclination) of beauty and poetry. This establishes that the love of beauty is a primarily positive thing—one associated with education and status. However, in his discussion of “ishq,” or “passionate love” the love of beauty is portrayed (partly) as negative; something that leads to sexual passiveness. The three concepts both relate to and compete with one another.

On page 57, El-Rouayheb establishes “the connection between refined character and the sensitivity to human beauty.” Furthermore, the “ideal of refinement and elegance was partly defined in opposition to the course, the uncouth, and the vulgar” (59). Essentially, the appreciation of beauty is portrayed as a desirable characteristic, one associated with refinement and entirely dissociated with vulgarity. A direct connection between “refinement,” and the “inclination to beauty” is established. On page 85, a quote reads that, “ishq (passionate love) is an attraction of the heart to the magnet of beauty.” Here, a direct connection between “ishq” and the “inclination to beauty” is made. Shortly after, a connection is made between “ishq” and “refinement” on page 86, where it reads that passionate love “only afflicted those who soul was sufficiently delicate and sensitive” (86). By looking at the nature of these associations, it is reasonable to assume that because “refinement” is connected with “ishq,” “ishq” would be established as a positive thing. However, we see later that this is not necessarily the case.

Passionate love was generally described as a disease—a term that in and of itself holds a very negative connotation (86). Although it was also “a testimony to the possession of a refined and sensitive character,” ishq was considered a “pathological affliction” (86). Passionate love is nearly always attributed to the pursuer in a pederastic relationship, or within an unmarried heterosexual relationship; because it was (sometimes) associated with sex, it was seen as a bad thing. However, the negativity associated with “ishq” seems to run even deeper than that—the ultimate disapproval stems not from religiously-condemned promiscuity, but the threat of disrupting the social order. El-Rouayheb writes that “the lover (the man) was invariably the subordinate partner, humbly kept in awe by the unattainable beauty of the beloved”… therefore, “Love tended to overturn the established social order, causing a master to be enthralled by his slave” (90). Earlier in chapter one, the text establishes passive sodomy as one of the carnal sins. Taking on the role of passive sexual partner (like a woman) is essentially relinquishing all masculine power. Passionate love could be seen as “addictive submission,” which is dangerous to enforcing societal norms, and therefore highly dishonorable. El-Rouayheb gives evidence that a person must be “refined” (a good thing) to fall into passionate love (a bad thing); a concept that seems inherently contradictory.

Because passionate love is oftentimes considered a negative thing, the inclination to beauty can also be taken as a bad thing. This contradicts earlier passages, when it is established as ultimately good. The “realists” believed that “ishq” was the “consequence of looking at an attractive woman or boy”; therefore, one should avoid admiring beauty. (91) However, if one avoids admiring beauty, one cannot hope to be “refined.” On the other hand, if one is not “refined,” then one musn’t worry about the disease of “ishq.” It is important to note that the “idealists” offered a solution for this issue by separating passionate love from sexual deviation; therefore, “ishq” was not necessarily a terrible thing. And yet, on the whole, “ishq” is portrayed very negatively while simultaneously being associated with positive things. Although El-Rouayheb gives us a good sense of what the Arab-Islamic World was like in 1500—1800, the competing concepts complicate the whole picture and requires more teasing out.

Words: 681

Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500—1800 (Part I)

Story Summary:

Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500—1800 studies how homosexual behavior was perceived and received in the time and place outlined in the title; the author argues that the phrase “homosexual” and its current meaning did not exist during that time, and that “homosexual” behavior was instead broken down into separate actions and mannerisms that took on very different social contexts.

Reflections:

Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500—1800 offers many notions of how women were viewed in society during that time and place. The most prominent, yet inexplicit depiction of women is very negative; by consistently comparing passive sodomites (who are looked down upon) to women, the text establishes that women were not valued highly. Throughout the text, women, being passive sexual partners, set the bar for how low a man can stoop.

Passive sodomites are often compared to women throughout the text, and neither group is depicted in a positive light. A quote on page 27 reads, “He who sees that his penis is transformed into a vagina, his fortitude and strength will become impotence, weakness, feebleness, and submissiveness.” Another page reads, “A preference for the passive-receptive role in sexual intercourse was seen as the very antithesis of masculinity.” (21) There are countless more examples throughout the text that offer similar ideas—that a passive sodomite, or an effeminate man, sinks to the level of a woman by giving up his masculinity and trading the role of penetrator in for that of the penetrated. The woman is described as “weak,” “feeble,” and “submissive”—something no man should encompass. On page 7, El-Rouayheb writes that people “tended to categorize and evaluate people according to whether they were active or passive in a sexual relation, and not according to the gender of their partners.” Because women are not able to be the “active” sexual party, they are regarded as slightly more valuable than worthless. Similarly, if a man decides to give up his role as the “active” fornicator, he is regarded in the same light. The difference here is a matter of choice; the woman never had the option to be evaluated as “active,” and so all women must have been devalued.

On page 22, El-Rouayheb explains that, “The passive male sodomite was seen as being in possession of a female sex drive, but without any of the constraints imposed on women in a patriarchal, gender-segregated society, and his image in bawdy-humorous works is similar to the image of promiscuous women” (22). This quote provides a direct comparison between passive sodomites and loose women—this portrays women as a whole in both a positive and negative light. On one hand, passive sodomites, who have committed what is described as “one of the most abominable sins a man could commit,” are placed on the exact same level as a promiscuous women (3). The woman, although impure, has only committed a minor crime in comparison to sodomy, and yet is placed on the same level as the male offender. This shows that a woman’s value was significantly low, and her actions were judged on a much harsher scale. On the other hand, women who were not “promiscuous” were regarded more highly than the passive sodomite, which shows that they have some value.

On page 16, however, a scholar noted that, “If carnal penetration of a boy were permitted, men would dispense with women’” (16). This suggests that even sodomites are valued more highly than women, and that women are essentially worthless outside of their ability to give birth. Another quote on page 25 reinforces the notion that women in this society were notably insignificant, when it reads, “Merely by virtue of his biological sex, a man was expected to participate in a world from which women were in principal excluded” (25). Time and time again, women are described as powerless, worthless, and weak. Femininity is the ultimate insult to a man; a passive sodomite is as offensive as a woman.

Words: 597

If Not, Winter - Sappho (Part II)

Story Summary:

Anne Carson’s translation of If Not, Winter is a collection of fragments written by Sappho around 630 B.C.; although much of her work was lost over time, the fragments give insight to her ideas about life’s central themes such as beauty, love, desire, aging, and identity.

Reflections:

Love, passion, desire, and everything related are certainly prevalent throughout Sappho’s writing. Several of Sappho’s fragments specifically mention Eros, who is defined in the glossary as the “god of everything erotic.” His presence and authority in her writings, however, changes dramatically. In some fragments, Sappho presents Eros as very much in control; in others, he’s the powerless one. The amount of power Eros possesses also determines whether he’s regarded as a positive or negative force. These two competing portrayals of Eros suggest that Sappho herself was uncertain about eroticism, desire, and how to accept or reject it.

The first mention of Eros depicts his force in a negative light, as it describes the immense destructive power he possesses. An entire fragment reads, “Eros shook my mind like a mountain wind falling on oak trees” (99). Here, Eros is the subject in power carrying out the action. Sappho describes him as shaking her mind; this parallels the way in which desire is uncontrollable, unexpected, and sometimes unwanted. She possesses no power over this matter—Eros is in control, shaking her as violently as a mountain mind. Although “a mountain wind” could be read as a benevolent force, here it has a destructive tone. The fragment suggests that Eros, symbolizing uncontrollable desire, is a force uninvited.

In another fragment, Sappho seems less certain about Eros; he is pictured in both a positive and a negative light. On page 265, Sappho writes, “Eros the melter of limbs (now again) stirs me—sweetbitter unmanageable creature who steals in.” Some of the sentiment from the previously mentioned fragment remains; Eros certainly remains in control, and he “stirs” her. Once again, he “steals in,” symbolizing the unexpected and immediate way that desire overcomes a person. The word “unmanageable,” as explained in the footnotes, also represents Eros’ power over Sappho; she has no means to escape, because a means to escape doesn’t exist. As in the first fragment, Eros is portrayed as very much in power. We also see the presence of “now again,” which echoes other places in the text and refers to the cyclical nature of the subject. Eros controls Sappho on a recurring basis, and yet here she uses the word “sweetbitter” to describe his force. The “bitter” certainly acknowledges his unwarranted force, but the “sweet” suggests that she somewhat enjoys it. Although desire is controlling and forceful, it can also be enjoyable.

Later, Sappho mentions Eros as being powerless—a deep contrast to the previous two fragments. On page 159, the fragment reads, “Both you and my servant Eros.” Describing Eros as her “servant” is an interesting inverse to his previous role of uncompromising power. Here, Eros is completely under the control of Sappho; he is her “servant.” The fragment has a supremely positive connotation to it, as opposed to the primarily negative ones seen elsewhere. Because Eros is her “servant,” Sappho is in control of her own desire and can use it as she pleases. This makes Eros’ force much more “sweet” than “bitter.”

The competing portrayals of Eros complicate whether Sappho enjoyed or disliked desire’s force. When Eros is described as the subject in control, his force is primarily painted in a negative light. In contrast, the power of desire is described positively when Sappho is the subject in control. Because both depictions of Eros are present, there is not a strong consensus whether desire is predominantly positive or negative; the issue falls somewhere in the middle, as most things tend to do.

Words: 582

If Not, Winter - Sappho

Story Summary:

Anne Carson’s translation of If Not, Winter is a collection of fragments written by Sappho around 630 B.C.; although much of her work was lost over time, the fragments give insight to her ideas about life’s central themes such as beauty, love, desire, aging, and identity.

Reflections:

Sappho offers competing notions of beauty in her writing; although it is one of her most discussed topics, it’s also one of the most versatile.

Beauty is described in several places in terms of youth; to be young is to be beautiful. This echoes what Agathon states in Symposium; Phaedrus is the youngest of the gods, and therefore the most beautiful and the best. The fragment, “beautiful gifts children,” appears on page 121 of If Not, Winter. Although the context of this fragment is missing, Sappho makes a direct connection here between youth and beauty. On page 45, she says, “you will remember for we in our youth did these things—yes many and beautiful things.” Once again she establishes the connection between youth and beauty; beautiful things occurred when she was young, but now in old age seem to be absent—dismissed as a thing of the past.

She confirms this again on page 121, when she repeatedly mentions her old age, saying “all my skin old age already hair turned white after black.” Sappho goes on to say, “but I love delicacy and this to me—the brilliance and beauty of the sun—desire has allotted” (121). A note in the back of the text by Carson suggests that this last line may be alluding to the story of Tithanos; he is so beautiful that he is given immortal life at the request of a goddess but doesn’t receive immortal youth (369). If this story is indeed what Sappho is referring to, then it reinforces the notion that youth (and also love) are defined by beauty. The goddess was drawn to Tithanos because of his beauty, but despite her attempts to procure it for herself, they lost the battle to old age, and beauty diminished. Sappho acknowledges that beauty is fleeting and something enjoyed by the young, but it isn’t forgotten. Yet another instance of this is seen on page 45, where it says, “you will remember for we in our youth did these things—yes many and beautiful things.” Beauty is frequently associated with youth in Sappho’s fragments as something wonderful, but long expired. However, although beauty is lost in old age, it lives on in memory.

Sappho primarily describes beauty referring to physicality; this is definitely true when she defines beauty by youth. She speaks often of Aphrodite and Helen, two women who are symbolic for their outside beauty. However, on page 105, she fleetingly offers a different interpretation of beauty. Although physical beauty is mentioned, inner beauty is the more prominent theme. She says, “For the man who is beautiful is beautiful to see but the good man will at once also beautiful be” (105). For the first time, Sappho connects beauty to inner goodness. Here physical beauty is recognized, but a beautiful personality receives even more recognition. This competes with the strong link Sappho draws between beauty and youth—inner beauty remains even in old age, but previously received no acknowledgement.

Another competing notion of love appears on page 27, where Sappho says, “Some men say an army of horses and some men say an army on foot and some men say an army of ships is the most beautiful thing on the black earth. But I say it is what you love.” Here Sappho defines beauty in terms of love while simultaneously establishing a deep contrast to what is considered masculine. Similarly to Sappho’s discussion on page 105, beauty is defined as intrinsic rather than extrinsic. These two fragments, one defining beauty as love and the other defining beauty as goodness, seem much more correlated than her numerous fragments defining beauty as youth. However, each definition is different and valid in its own way. Although Sappho uses the term “beauty” in many different lights, she uses it so honestly regardless of context that it becomes a versatile term suitable for each situation.

Words: 649

Gilgamesh, Stephen Mitchell

Story Summary:

Gilgamesh, as told by Stephen Mitchell, is an epic about a man 2/3 god and 1/3 human named Gilgamesh, who is unparalleled by any other being until he meets Enkidu; the two men develop a relationship of true friendship and love whilst committing powerful and heroic acts together, until Enkidu dies and Gilgamesh goes on in search of eternal life to escape the same fate.

Reflections:

As I was reading Gilgamesh, I concentrated specifically on the language concerning Gilgamesh and Enkidu’s relationship. The three most common words I found describing their relationship are “friends,” “brothers,” and “beloved.” “Beloved” suggests a love relationship paralleling that of a husband and wife, while “brothers” and “friends” suggest a relationship intimate in a different way. The epic seems to establish their relationship as more homosocial than homosexual; a physical desire for one another is only fleetingly suggested. The strongest example of this seems to be on page 83, where it reads, “You will take him in your arms, embrace and caress him the way a man caresses his wife.” On page 90, the two men kiss. Oftentimes throughout the story they hold hands. However, besides these debatable signs, the book does not seem to establish their love as definitively homosexual. There are many direct signs that portray the opposite; for example, Enkidu’s repetitive love making with Shamhat and Gilgamesh’s claim to every girl’s virginity.

The epic does, however, establish that their love is true and lasting. It also offers up a distinct contrast to love/lust with a woman. On page 132, Gilgamesh refuses Ishtar’s marriage proposal, questioning, “What will happen to me when your heart turns elsewhere and your lust burns out?” Women’s love is outlined here as fleeting, cruel, and fake. Ishtar cannot love a man unconditionally; she becomes bored with them and disposes of them cruelly, only to repeat the process. Gilgamesh’s love for Enkidu is quite the opposite; it is consistently established as everlasting. They pledge to always be there for one another. Even after Enkidu dies, Gilgamesh says, “I will mourn for him as long as I breathe” (152). Their love continues, even after death. In this way, the story seems to argue that the love relationship between two males is stronger than that of a man and a woman.

However, the last portion of the epic after Enkidu’s death complicates the notion of true love for me. Gilgamesh is clearly heartbroken for Enkidu and his love for him lives on; however, his one true focus from that point seems to be entirely selfish. As he sees Enkidu dead, he puts more anguish into fearing for his own life than mourning his beloved “friend” and “brother.” Instead of yearning to die to stop the pain of loss, or attempt to join Enkidu in the underworld, Gilgamesh travels to the end of the earth to seek eternal life. Enkidu’s death seems to scare him more than upset him; this calls into question how unconditionally Gilgamesh loved Enkidu. Although the story supplies evidence throughout that Gilgamesh and Enkidu had the strongest love bond possible, it ends suggesting the contrary. I am uncertain which argument is stronger, yet I am still lead to believe that Gilgamesh truly loved Enkidu, more than he could have loved any other being.

Words: 547