(no subject)
Sneaking time away from cataloging...
As most of you picked up from my last "post" of my old journal, I'm married now (since August 23rd), and have a... rambunctious daughter, Diana. That's a nice adjective for her. More appropriate ones might be demonic, evil, monket-like, perhaps.
As for me, I'm onto my last semester of undergad college at MacMurray. Hopefully, I'll graduate cum laude with a BA in English and honors. Hopefully. Advanced Spanish composition is destroying the very fibers of my being. My schedule is:
CULS 300: Diversity and the American Experience. Not a tough class, but a huge one. 80+ people. For a spoiled English major used to <20 classes, it's annoying as all get out.
SPAN 301: Advanced Composition. I'm just hitting the fleuncy barrier in Spanish where I have some grasp of grammar and some grasp of vocab, and my brain can't yet think in Spanish first. So I'm beating my head against a wall trying to simply pass assignments. Really, it's awful.
MUSIC 166: Applied Voice Lessons. Not a tough class, usually. My repetoire for this semester is: "Close Every Door" by Webber. "Dirge for a Soldier" words by Boker... don't remember who did the music. And parts 29-32 of Handel's "Messiah": "Thy Rebuke Hath Broken His Heart", "Behold, and See", "He Was Cut Off Out of the Land of the Living", and "But Thou Didst Not Leave his Soul in Hell". It's a beast. But a good one.
Eng 493: Library Practicum. Since I'm going on to get my MA in Library Science, I thought a practicum might be useful. I'm doing a lot of technical work (cataloging, especially) and some library instruction. Not hard, but a little stressful. After all, I'm deciding things that usually only actual librarians decide.
Eng 497: Senior Thesis. "The Psychology of D.H. Lawrence Applied to Shakespeare's Hamlet, King Lear, Macbeth, and Othello". It's looking like it'll top out at 60-75 pages. And it's a combination of one of the most convoluted psychologies and Shakespeare. A good mental exercise to say the least. I'll post the first part under a cut in a moment... (I'm hoping it'll be publishible after deleting the unnecessary student-esque parts, since it's a completely original idea).
As for graduate school... University of Kentucky -- Lexington is my primary school. U of Missouri - Columbia, IUPUI - Indianapolis, and Dominican University are my 3 backups.
I
Starting with the publication of Psychoanalysis and the Unconscious in 1921, D.H. Lawrence asserted himself as a voice in the field of psychoanalysis. His second approach to the topic, which further explained his theories on the human unconscious, soul, and mind, was written a few years later as a rebuttal to critics of the first book. Between these two books, Lawrence gives us a unique psychology: a blend of Eastern Chakras, Freudian levels of consciousness, Jungian dream interpretation, and Lawrence's own individualism. This psychoanalytic theory was also evident in Lawrence's fiction and literary critics often examined how he used his theory within those works. Lawrence himself released a set of criticisms that, while not directly based on his psychoanalysis, did utilize many of the same principles. However, it is worth exploring whether or not Lawrence's theory of psychoanalysis is applicable in other settings.
A perfect match to this theory that was formally intended for humans, and only later applied to fictional characters, is the work of William Shakespeare. Shakespeare is almost universally appreciated for his characterization and the skill in which he crafts characters that hold the reader's attention on many levels. Unlike many of his contemporaries, his characters -- at least his major characters -- are almost human in the way that they develop and act within a work. While this is generally true in any given Shakespeare work, it is especially so in the tragedies. It is in the tragedies that we see characters driven to the breaking point, every flaw and fear displayed to the audience as the stress placed on characters grows throughout the action. In the climax, especially, we see clearly what makes the characters do what the do and be what they are. Within the Bard's many tragedies, four are generally esteemed above the others, and they will have the theories of Lawrence applied to them: Macbeth, King Lear, Othello, and Hamlet.
II
The central idea of Lawrence's theory of the unconscious is the idea that we are governed by a number of centers of energy throughout the body. They are divided into eight main centers, four ganglia and four plexi. Of these, the most dominant is the solar plexus, which is in the sympathetic mode. Then comes its opposite in the voluntary mode, the lumbar ganglion. Next, the two corresponding centers above them in the body, but of lesser power are the cardiac plexus and the thoracic ganglion. The last four centers arise only after puberty, for they control the sex drive: the cervical plexus and ganglion, the hypogastric plexus, and the sacral ganglion. As the names line up, so do the positions and modes of the centers -- all plexi are located in the front of the body and are sympathetic, all ganglia line up along the spine and are voluntary.
The most important of all of these centers is the solar plexus. According to Lawrence, "Surely that prime centre, which is the very first nucleus of the fertilized ovule, lies situated beneath the navel of all womb-born creatures" (Lawrence 19). So, our first actual cell as a just-conceived zygote is what then becomes our center for all creative and productive energies. It, like its soon to come mate in the lumbar ganglion, is a primal center. The solar plexus must be the most powerful, for it is our primal connection to the world around us, as it is the first of our sympathetic centers. The position, Lawrence explains, is no coincidence, for it is at that point in the abdomen, just behind the navel, where we were first connected to our mothers, then ruptured, thrust into singleness. As if in response, our bodies enflame the initial cells beneath the scar, bringing to fullness the solar plexus beneath. "From this centre the child is drawn to the mother again," says Lawrence, "...to re-establish the old oneness" (21). This center is a primal seeking and grasping center, in the sense, again, of a child cleaving to its mother. Finally, Lawrence attests the realm of digestion to this center: the drawing in of nutrients from the world. In all, this center empowers and unifies all others by anchoring us within the world.
Its pair and opposite is found in the great lumbar ganglion in the lower back. The lumbar ganglion is the primary voluntary center of the body, which is to say that it controls the forces of will and independence. This center develops soon after birth, when the child first comes to the realization that it is an independent and singular beast of its mother. This is the center of excretion, an expelling of that which is not of or beneficial to 'I'. Like its polar opposite in the solar plexus, the lumbar ganglion is a primal force, well below the conscious level. The primary difference between the two is that the solar plexus says, "I am one with the world around me," where as the lumbar ganglion asserts, "I am I, a singular being within myself." Lawrence places a premium on this center in his theories, not because it is dominant to the solar plexus -- it isn't -- but because this is perhaps the least developed of all of the centers in modern man. We worry so much about "connecting" and "understanding" and "feeling" that we are losing the ability to assert our singularity and strength in self, which is precisely the sphere of this center.
The next center that should be mentioned is lesser in strength to the two previous centers, but also very important to the fully-fledged human. The cardiac plexus is the center for, as Lawrence puts it, "[Seeking] the revelation of the unknown" (78). If the lumbar ganglion says, "I am I," then this node says, "You are you!" It is the center for the knowledge of another being in relation to the singular. It is also the center for true love. Now, by true love, Lawrence doesn't mean TRUE love in the fairy tale sense, but a true connection between two beings in the form of an interchange of energy between two points, but more on that later. This plexus is the center of the heart and lungs. It is a drawing in of something from the outside world, but unlike the solar plexus. In that center we are rooted to the earth and the things of it, primally. In this center we are reaching heavenward to air, not yet in a mental sense, but more rooted in knowledge of the world than the primal 'self-ness' of the lower centers. It is the seat of empathy and sympathy for others. When a woman interacts with her child, it is first on the same primal level of the solar plexus, but as it becomes a whole entity within itself (through the development of the lumbar ganglion) the mother begins to appreciate it also as itself. In relation to the solar plexus: the solar plexus desires an object for the desirer, whereas this plexus desires the object for itself, or because the object is what it is. In this manner, we see that this center gives us feelings such as appreciation for others.
Its opposite rests between the shoulder blades in the thoracic ganglion. This is the center of the exhale, the counter to the cardiac plexus's inhale. Before was the positive inhaling force, this is a negative letting go. "Not positively dismissed, but relinquished" (Lawrence 79). He makes a special distinction here, between active exhaling and passive letting go, because this center must be a negative to the cardiac plexus's positive, so the action is a passive release. This center is the center of curiosity of the world around, which is a development of singularity. It is best described in relation to the lumbar ganglion and the cardiac plexus. The former says, "I am I." The latter says, "You are you." This acts like the lumbar ganglion in asserting singularity, but like the cardiac plexus, it has to do with the world around it. So we have, "What makes you, you?" It is an objective study of the world around the person, but it also seats much of the power within the same person, the pre-mental seeking of knowledge and experience that is best seen in a child. A young child that has asserted its independence soon begins to explore its domain, looking to lay a hand on anything it can. Invention and exploration are signs of a healthy thoracic ganglion.
The next two centers should be talked about together, for they act as one in most humans, only coming alive during puberty: the hypogastric plexus and the sacral ganglion. Their realms are urination and excretion respectively, and, of course, they control the lower sex drive. Lawrence sub-divides the sex drive according to the sex of the person, saying that the female is dominant in the hypogastric plexus, or sympathetic plane, whereas the man is dominant in the sacral ganglion or voluntary plane. By this he means to differentiate that men are more assertive and singular in their sex drive and women more receptive. The power of these poles, according to Lawrence, is that they really dictate love between two individuals, "There is no mental interference... love is supposed to be blind" (213). This comes as a slight contradiction to earlier, where he says that true companionship and love must be a dynamic relation between all parts of the unconscious soul between two people. However, he says that these lower centers arise directly from the power of the initial four, so it can be assumed that they have the same "frequency" as the primary centers. This would mean that the lower centers, the sacral and hypogastric, act more as transmitters seeking a pair for the entire whole, not independent entities that dictate who the rest of the body must adjust to.
The final two centers of the body act in direct relation to the two lower sex centers and are known as the cervical plexus and ganglion. After the act of sex is finished through the power of the lower centers, the upper ones flare into life, changing the entire polarity of the body. The lower centers become negative and submissive to the cervical plexus and ganglion, which are positive in nature. These centers awaken a newness in the perception of the world, and soon take control of the face. As Lawrence puts it, "Now there is new vision in the eyes, new hearing on the ears, new voice in the throat and speech on the lips" (142). In other words, these centers offer a new awareness of the surrounding world. Finally, they also spark a desire to commune with others who are similarly charged. Again, Lawrence put it best, "A new, passionate polarity springs up between men who are bent on the same activity" (143). It is important to note that this new polarity is not sexual, since it arises from the upper centers of humankind, not the lower, sexual ones.
A small mention should be made of the human mind, or specifically, the brain. To Lawrence, the brain is all too typically a great evil to the body below it. The brain is important as a secondary body, a storage facility for what has been experienced by and through the sensual centers of the body. However, in most humans, the mind has been turned into the entity of experience and expression. What this means, however, is that first, nothing creative is generated by humankind, for the mind is not creative in itself, but only when acting as a instrument of the body's centers. It is, as Lawrence says, "...a great dynamo of super-mechanical force" (47). The mind, if left to dominate, would subdue and categorize the body and the world around it, which to Lawrence is the ultimate death of creativity and spontaneity -- the self.
These centers and the energies that flow between them are perhaps most important as we look at interpersonal relations. A paragraph from Psychoanalysis and the Unconscious explains this idea well: "But still the circuit of polarity, dual as it is, positive and negative from the positive-sympathetic and the negative-voluntary poles, still depends on the duality of two beings -- it is still extra-individual. Each individual is vitally dependent on the other, for the life circuit (27)." So, while the body may have within it a series of complete circuits, sympathetic-voluntary, lumbar-thoracic, solar-cardiac, cervical-sacral/hypogastric, these are still dependent on other humans in order to reach full potential. The most important connections, of course, must come from the primary sympathetic centers of humans, especially the cardiac plexus. We must exult in another being because it is what it is, not for a mental ideal of love, nor for a mere sexual lust. The primary worry here is that the cardiac plexus may become too powerful and dominate the being it inhabits. What this creates is a kind of co-dependence. When a person is too infatuated with others, when their ganglia are less powerful, then they lose their singularity and become attached to the ideal of 'soft' love in another. This is most easily demonstrated in the modern 'emo' or 'emotive' archetype. The 'emo' is an adolescent that has become so infatuated with the idea of loving another that they become morose and introverted at the mere thought of aloneness, usually to the point of actual depression. This is a form of illness that arises from a lack of strength in the ganglia. Lawrence gives us his prescription for a healthy individual, and that requires, obviously, individuality. However, the opposite can occur in rare instances: a person with too strong a will can find it nigh-impossible to form relations with others. This is especially apparent in the character of Birkin in Women in Love, a man so critical in his objective observations -- so attuned to his thoracic ganglion -- that he cannot bring himself to have a sympathetic connection with another. Any major imbalance in the centers leads to problems that are related to said centers, as the examples above show.
Lawrence does not limit his theory to mankind, however, as the entire world around us is charged with a polarity. He makes a minor note of individual locations and objects within Fantasia of the Unconscious, the first example being a pair of boots. As he says, "...the boots I have worn are so saturated with my own magnetism... that if anyone else wear them I feel it is a trespass, almost as if another man used my hand to knock away a fly" (164). So, an object can be infused not only with a specific polarity (positive or negative), but also with an individual polarity. Similarly with a location, "Any particular locality... has a vibration" (164). This vitality is created by beings that lived in the locality and transferred their energy to it, which then takes on the properties of the beings that lived there. For example, if a strong-willed, hard man lived in a house his whole life, the air will seem to be filled with voluntary, antipathetic, charged vibrations. Most importantly, however, the very cosmos around us has a polarity and so affects us and is affected by us in turn: the sun, the moon, and the earth beneath our feet. According to Lawrence, when we die, our souls comprise the polarity, and so the very life of these bodies.
The sun, first, is the sympathetic center of our cosmos, being formed of the sympathetic parts of our souls. It is, "the fiery, vivifying pole of the inanimate universe" (184). Because of its makeup -- the plexi of souls -- it is a life-giving and dynamic body that enacts directly on our solar plexus. Lawrence argues that man rises with the sun because it enacts directly on his solar plexus, and that late-risers are inherently left with less vitality because they are out of sync with the sun's natural rhythms (204). Finally, like the moon, the sun is a positively-charged body, actively acting on us and the earth.
The moon then, of course, is the voluntary center of the cosmos, giving nothing but a reflection of the sun to the world below, and staying its solitary course in the night. Lawrence expounds on the moon's effect on the earth by saying, "What holds the earth swinging in space is... the sun, and then... [its] singleness, which is polarized by the moon. [It] is the clue to our earth's individual identity" (184). So, it not only stimulates the lumbar ganglion in humanity, but also the earth's voluntary tendencies, and since it is actively stimulating, it is positively charged. This also means that night-activities and night-people both center largely on individuality over sympathy and empathy, especially in the case of illicit or illegal behaviors.
The negative to both of these celestial bodies is the terrestrial body of earth. This negative force we can see in gravity, which pulls us down towards its center. We can also see this in the way that the voluntary pole, the moon, acts upon the sea. Since the moon is a kind of watery force anyway (to counteract the sun's fire) its most apparent effect is on the seas of the earth. These seas are fluid in their manner, so they are easily swayed by the strong voluntary force of the moon. Most importantly, because the earth is negatively-charged, it is associated with sleep. When we sleep, our own consciousness becomes passive and we fall under the sway of the earth's magnetism. This then translates to dreams according to Lawrence: "As we sleep the current sweeps its own way through us, as the streets of a city are swept and flushed at night. It sweeps through our nerves and our blood, sweeping away the ash of our day's spent consciousness towards one form or other of excretion... and as it sweeps it stimulates in the primary centres of consciousness vibrations which flash images on the mind (193)." As he later states, these dreams are not, as traditionally viewed, the desires of the self, but the opposite: the unwanted detritus of the day.
Before closing our talk of Lawrence's works themselves, it is worth examining how he uses these theories in his own criticism. For example, when speaking of Edgar Allen Poe, Lawrence's primary problem was this, "Poe had experienced the ecstasies of extreme spiritual love. And he wanted those ecstasies and nothing but those ecstasies" (Studies in... 97). Poe's stories primarily reflect a part of him, that complete obsession with spiritual, higher love. Poe was a person who lived primarily within the cardiac plexus, to the point that what he lived for was this higher love. He primarily uses the story Ligeia as an example, but he touches on a better-known work as well, The Fall of the house of Usher. Roderick, the male usher, follows Poe in being an over-nervous, love-obsessed creature; to the point that Lawrence calls him an "aeolian harp" -- "a sensitized instrument of the external influences" (Studies in... 112). Poe utilizes this same theme throughout his works, "each man kills the thing he loves" (Studies in...115). He has a much higher opinion of Walt Whitman, who he sums up in this one sentence: "The soul passing unenhanced, passing on foot and being no more than itself" (Studies in... 264). While he does have his criticisms of Whitman, especially that Whitman is too sympathetic toward his subjects; he appreciates the fullness, originality, and individuality of Whitman. Unlike these two authors, Shakespeare will not likely fall into the trap of an archetype when scrutinized by Lawrence's psychoanalysis..
Sorry about the formatting of that cut... I ripped that off of the RFF Board, so there's no nice MS Word formatting.
Other than that, it's life as usual. Sleep, work, school, being a house husband, and playing hours and hours of wonderful Okami on the Wii we bought with my final financial aid overflow check.
~Thomas P.