Thoughts on Rear Window

In Rear Window Hitchcock explores the loss of privacy and its effect on the individual. The action takes place in the early fifties but is even more applicable to today. As Jeffries watches his neighbors he relies more and more on what he perceives to be happening in their lives' as a standard against which to judge his own. One is reminded of today's reality television, the intrusion of the internet into our lives, and just the general inundation of media we are subjected to. There are two sides to this: one is the invasion of privacy of the ones being unknowingly (or not) watched, and the other is the effect on the voyeur himself. In Rear Window we are privy to the second, as we see Jeff wholly consumed by other people's realities to the detriment of his own.
Jeff's life is put on hold in Rear Window. This is in part unavoidable as he is in a cast and basically stuck in his apartment for eight weeks. But Jeff chooses to bring it wholly to a standstill by his obsession with what others are doing. He emotionally isolates himself from Lisa in favor of living his life vicariously through his neighbors and judging his own relationship according to his mostly inaccurate perceptions of them. Jeff's cynicism and fear about relationships is reinforced by what he sees. The couple with the dog reflects his fear of the loss of excitement as a relationship piles on years. He is deathly afraid to be stuck in an average boring marriage for the rest of his life; no more traveling the world to exotic locales taking pictures, but instead waking up everyday to the same apartment, the same woman, and the same routine. In Miss Torso Jeff sees a sort of ideal: a free person pursuing a career while fighting off the wolves who wish to tie her down. The newlywed couple and the Thorwalds seem to be the bookends of Jeffries' worst fear about marriage. The honeymoon seems to last only a few hours before the man is tied down by an all-too-demanding-wife. For Jeffries, this is how it all begins. And Mr. Thorwald, who is imprisoned by an ailing wife while he struggles to make ends meet and eventually decides that murder is his best option, is how marriage ends: in doom and misery.
Miss Lonelyhearts is the only counter to Jeffries' fear of commitment, as she offers up the reverse of being "stuck" in a relationship. She is instead stuck alone, and this must resonate strongly with Jeff as he is himself getting older and no doubt is afraid to grow old alone. He seems to relate more to her than any of the others, while finding in her a comrade who struggles on by herself. But in the end she too finds happiness through romance with the musician.
In the end things seem to turn out okay for Jeff and Lisa. Jeff has indeed solved a murder, which is unequivocally a good thing. But for his intrusion into the affairs of others he has suffered two broken legs and more home confinement, something that seems to border on torture for him. Perhaps he has learned his lesson though, and it is one that we can use today as well: turn off the television once in a while, get some distance from the "social" networking that is anything but social, and invest some time in your own life and relationships.

Women on Top in Glengarry Glen Ross

The women of Glengarry Glen Ross are conspicuosly inserted into the plot without any female characters actually stepping onto the stage. The action from beginning to end essentially revolves around them although it takes place in the "man's world" of hard-selling shucksters in a real estate office. Mamet relies heavily on popularly portrayed stereotypes of what men and women "are" or "should be" while also commenting on relationships. Whatever accusations of "Mamet as misogynist" that may exist, Glengarry Glen Ross is decidedly not (though some of the characters certainly are).
The action begins with Levene's sale kicked out because of a man's ex-wife. It is a strike to Levene and an allusion to an unhappy marriage ending in a (perhaps) messy divorce in court. The woman saves her ex from a bad investment and helps send Levene toward his downfall (score a couple for the women). This conversation also provides the first clue to a central theme of the play, beginning when Levene says, "I'm the man to sell." It's interesting that Mamet chose to stress the word "man" in this line and depending on how the line is given it could suggest theme to a more or less dramatic effect. Here also is revealed the second woman of the play with the mention of Levene's daughter who is apparently very sick and is his prime concern. Her illness ultimately ruins Levene as it is the motivation for his part in the burglary. Levene is a lot of things, but a thief, in the literal sense, is not one of them without this extra push of desparation.
The next scene really hits hard at women and is uber-derogatory with its obscene talk of broads and dead cats. Moss has extremely little regard for women, but while being a total misogynist he is not exactly set up as role model material either. Mamet created Moss as the worst of the worst: a racist, a bigot, a manipulator and a crook. He's disloyal, bad-tempered and greedy, and we are given no motivation for his crime other than avarice and a vengeful spirit; though it's suggested that he needs the money this hardly is a call for empathy.
And then there's macho Roma and poor, pathetic, emasculated Lingk. Lingk wields no manly power or authority. Roma uses this and is able to work Lingk masterfully, but in the end he cannot overcome the sway Lingk's wife possesses. In Roma's character we really see what this "man's world" is all about. For the most part it is control, not only of one's own destiny, but also control over other people. This "virtue" of control is in part proven by the ability to close the hard sell in business as well as relationships. This is the centerpiece of Roma's ruthless chastisement of Williamson to whom he says, "You stupid fucking cunt. You idiot. Who ever told you you could work with men? [...] I don't care [...] whose dick you're sucking on." He tells him further that he is here "to help men who are going out there to try to earn a living. You fairy. You company man. [...] You fucking child." This is a very specific attack on Williamson's manhood. Roma makes use of a gendered epithet and also one of sexual orientation. Williamson is a child doing what he is told and is a company man. None of this fits into the world of men that has one like Roma as its highest ideal. Roma is powerful, in control, successful, and cold. He is the perfect man in this sense; he is also thwarted by a woman. Lingk's wife saves Lingk, overcomes Roma, and it is her actions that lead directly to Levene uncovering himself (score the women a couple of more.)
Glengarry Glen Ross is a masterpiece and a brilliant exploration of gender roles. The characters exhibit some deplorable qualities but there is no attempt to make right or wrong by them. The audience can judge their character for themselves. If you find yourself liking these guys too much then maybe you have a twinkling of misogyny in you, but don't blame the author. I think partly what bothers some people about the play is that the characters and the lines are so memorable and alive. Audiences enjoy it too much and that makes some uncomfortable with it, and thus the accusations. There is also an uneasy sense of justice at the end which Mamet pulls off devastatingly: Moss gets what is coming to him, while Roma, the perfect man, does not (he loses the sale but is still pretty much on top of things). These two sort of balance out. But then there is a tricky sense of compassion for Levene, who undoubtedly has some moral misgivings but one still feels inclined to feel sorry for him and not necessarily want to see him go to prison (and where does that leave his daughter?). Ultimately, I think that Mamet is not making a statement of his beliefs on men and women but only a poignant observation of one facet of the real world. These characters exist. The plot is authentic and relevant to today.

Lear

I think King Lear is too harshly criticized when being depicted as a heartless tyrant who shows no love for his children. Kahn's contention that he is initially a "man's man" so to speak, displaying little emotion or ability to nurture is made primarily on the basis of his tirade against Cordelia (and Kent) at the beginning. Rather than show him harsh and devoid of emotion I think this instead humanizes Lear who is devastated by what he perceives as a lack of love from the daughter whom he loves most. He turns hard-hearted against her and this betrays how deeply and truly he loved her. This love is misguided but still demonstrably present.
As for Lear's revulsion to displaying affection for Goneril and Regan, who can blame him? It is no wonder he should feel it weak to let emotion get in the way of his deserving rage. Goneril and Regan show themselves to be sociopaths which Lear is not. Aside from his love for Cordelia, Lear also has the loyalty and affection of the Duke of Kent, Gloucester and his fool. These men, all honorable and compasssionate characters, stand with Lear even after it is clear they have little or nothing to gain from his friendship. This is a telling thing in itself that should not be overlooked. It is not likely he should receive such loyalty if he were nothing but a cold-hearted despot.
It's true that Lear makes an emotional conversion by the end of the play, becoming more openly affectionate and compassionate toward all, especially Cordelia whom he has clearly wronged. While this conversion, made at an earlier stage, might have prevented or at least altered the course of events, it could have in no way changed the characters of Goneril or Regan. Their behavior cannot be attributed directly to Lear from what we learn about him in the text.
If we accept that feeling affection and "being open with emotions" to be womanly qualities, then Lear certainly has become more womanly by the end and a better person for it, though perhaps too late. This is unfortunate but we need not give him such a hard time.

The Moviegoer

Reaction to The Moviegoer
(or, Somebody Please Shoot Me)

It is Sunday at ten p.m. and I have just finished reading The Moviegoer. It had the remarkably unique quality of being one of the most well-crafted, well-conceived and affecting novels I have ever read while at the same time being almost impossible to sit down to. A rare dichotomy of brilliant writing and joyless reading. The word buzz-kill comes to mind. It felt like Percy, through his character Binx, beat me over the head for two-hundred forty pages with cynicism and ennui.
And poor Binx, oh miserable man that he is! In the first chapter he describes his "search" without really saying what it is that he is looking for. He hints at God or religion or some central philosophy worth living for. He contends that this is what his story is all about and it is purportedly the central unifying theme. However, I don't really recognize it as a search. A search would require an open-minded and objective look at the world around him. It would demand that he ask objective questions and seek objective answers. This he does not do. As Binx goes through the motions of life he sees everything through a lens of overtly hostile cynicism. He projects this trait upon everyone and every event in his life. His search is disingenuous at best. It seems more of a code-word he uses to "certify" himself and imbue some meaning on his life, in much the same way the moviegoer does who sees his hometown on the big screen. It helps to make him a "someone" rather than just an "anyone." He chooses to believe he is searching although he has already settled on the answer. Binx's problem is combating "everydayness," an endeavor that could not be helped even if he found some sort of faith. He says, "If God himself had appeared to me, it would have changed nothing. In fact, I have only to hear the word God and a curtain comes down in my head." (145)
In the end, it is difficult to say whether or not Binx finds what he is looking for. As for faith or religion, I doubt it. Acceptance of his life as meaningless, perhaps. I think he takes a sort of pride in his misery. Referring to the seats in the movie theater he says there exists a "sense of wonder about the enduring, about all the nights... when the seats endured alone in the empty theater. The enduring is something which must be accounted for. One cannot simply shrug it off." (80) Binx might have made some cursory acceptance of religion, the "heroic unreligiousness" of his family in church (160), but it has little do with combating everydayness. He has instead let go of the search and contented himself to face the everyday like a good stoic.
The Moviegoer left me somewhat dissatisfied in the end. The vagueness of the epilogue left me wanting. Probably this is what Percy was after, to leave the reader with a sense of dissatisfied acceptance. Dare I say, it is a must-read, but you might be prepared with a length of rope just in case.