English and Literature “The Age of Reason / Enlightenment”
English and Literature
“The Age of
Reason / Enlightenment”
A. The Age Reason / Enlightenment
The
Enlightenment or Age of Reason: 1700s / Eighteenth Century – Europe and
America. The Enlightenment, also known as the Age of Reason,
is the name given to the period
in Europe and America during the 1700s when mankind was emerging from centuries
of ignorance into a new age enlightened by reason, science, and respect for
humanity. People of the Enlightenment were convinced that human reason
could discover the natural
laws of the universe and determine the natural rights of mankind; thereby unending progress in knowledge, technical
achievement, and moral values would be realized.
This new way of thinking led to the
development of a new religious thought known as Deism. Deists believed in God as a great inventor or architect who
had created the universe then allowed it to function like a machine or clock
without divine intervention. Although Deists believed in a hereafter, they
believed human achievement and happiness should be the focus of this life rather
than the life to come.
Benevolence
toward less fortunate people, humanitarianism, resulted. Difficult
though it is for us to realize, the idea that people who are more fortunate
should assist those who are less fortunate was, in fact, a new concept during
the Enlightenment. Prior to this, religious beliefs
perceived assistance to the
unfortunate as interference with God because people thought if someone were
unfortunate, it was God’s will and was punishment for wrongdoing.
a.
Major
Changes in Europe: Political, Social, Economic, and Religious
Politically, wars during the 1700s were most often fought within countries over secession
to a throne rather than between countries.
Monarchies still often ruled during the 1700s, but with less security than in
earlier times. The English executed their king in 1642, France executed their
king and queen (in 1793 and 1794 respectively) during the French Revolution,
and other European monarchies soon fell. Royal instability suggested insecurity
of the social order over which aristocracies had ruled.
Economically, new trade between countries generated new wealth. The
newly wealthy tradesman and merchant class demanded a share of the social and
political power formally held only by the nobility. As a result of the
political and economic changes during the eighteenth century, there were
major social changes
as well. The former rigid class system based on inherited positions of nobility
and wealth became far less secure.
There were also major religious changes during the 1700s. There was a significant
decline in church power and prestige, which resulted primarily from people’s no
longer believing in God’s daily involvement in their human affairs. Prior to
the Enlightenment, before the discovery of natural laws, people had believed
that every event that occurred, no matter how major or minor, was a direct
result of God’s intervention. Once scientists discovered that natural laws
caused these occurrences, mankind feared God less, and as a result, religious
obligations were no longer the primary concern of many people.
Rather than focusing on God and the
church, people of the Enlightenment focused on man. Alexander Pope, a famous
English poet, wrote a rhyming couplet (two
consecutive lines of poetry that rhyme) that describes well the attitude
of the time: “Know then thyself; presume not God to scan. The proper study of
mankind is man.”
The eighteenth century recognized
the interdependence of men on each other. Rather than the agricultural society
prevalent during the previous feudal period, the 1700s saw the development of
cosmopolitan society. People lived in clusters and depended upon each other
rather than living alone and being independent of one another. The importance
of cooperation and mutual respect became obvious.
B. Lady Mary Chudleigh “ To The Ladies ”
a.
Biography of Lady Mary Chudleigh
Mary, the daughter of
Richard Lee, was born in August 1656, in Winslade in the county of Devon,
England. While she, like most women of her time, received little in the way of
formal education, she read widely [3] and educated herself in theology, science, and philosophy.[4]
She married Sir George
Chudleigh of Ashton, also in Devon. Her biographers argue as to whether their
marriage was happy; her references to marriage as a trap that was
psychologically stifling for women suggest that she may have had personal
experience with an overbearing husband,[5] but on the other hand, he did allow her to publish several
feminist works during his lifetime, and her previously-unpublished work was
saved carefully by the family after her death.[6] They had at least three children: Eliza Maria, George (later
the next Sir George), Thomas, and possibly others.
Little else is known about
her life except for the fact that her daughter must have died young, as her
grief is mentioned in her letters and some poetry. Mary Chudleigh died in 1710.
b.
“To The Ladies” By Lady Mary Chudleigh
Wife and
Servant are the same,
But only differ in the Name: For when that fatal Knot is ty'd, Which nothing, nothing can divide: When she the word obey has said, [5] And Man by Law supreme has made, Then all that's kind is laid aside, And nothing left but State and Pride: Fierce as an Eastern Prince he grows, And all his innate Rigor shows: [10] Then but to look, to laugh, or speak, Will the Nuptial Contract break. Like Mutes she Signs alone must make, And never any Freedom take: But still be govern'd by a Nod, [15] And fear her Husband as her God: Him still must serve, him still obey, And nothing act, and nothing say, But what her haughty Lord thinks fit, Who with the Pow'r, has all the Wit. [20] Then shun, oh! shun that wretched State, And all the fawning Flatt'rers hate: Value your selves, and Men despise, You must be proud, if you'll be wise. |
Mary Chudleigh's poem "To the Ladies" provides commentary on
the institution of marriage. The author begins by putting forth her heartfelt
conclusion:
Wife and servant are the
same.
In other words, once a woman becomes a wife, she also becomes a
servant—the words are synonymous; the difference between "wife" and
"servant" is simply a question of semantics.
The author addresses the sentiments of marriage.
Whereas marriage is often referred to as "tying the knot," the author
states that it is a fatal knot. "Fatal" here is used very
precisely, and is a word associated with death: the threat or actuality of
dying. "Fatal" is a warning.
The lines of a wedding ceremony,
"...let no man put asunder" are alluded to: the bonds of matrimony
shall never be severed—though the author's description makes it sound more like
a curse. She writes:
...which nothing, nothing can divide...
The repetition of the word "nothing" stresses the permanent
nature of this bond. Once the woman says her vows, promising to
"obey," the "law supreme" (more likely society's laws
rather than God's) makes certain she adheres to those promises not just in
spirit, but in deed.
The following line indicates that after the vows, the
wooing is over and things get very serious.
Then all that's kind is laid aside...
The love notes, flowers, and
flirtations are at an end. It is now time to pay attention to the serious
nature of marriage. When a woman takes her vows, she then belongs to
her husband. Like an "eastern prince," the man grows more powerful,
and the woman becomes powerless. When the
speaker refers to "...And all his innate rigour shows," she is
explaining that once married, a husband's natural tendency toward stiff,
unbending behavior awakes.
The author goes on to describe the rules for the new
wife: looking, laughing, or speaking when not permitted to do so may be all
that is necessary to break the wedding vows. Like one who is "mute,"
the new wife must "make signs" rather than open her mouth. This may be literal (unable to
speak), but a figurative meaning seems more likely. The author's suggestion may
be that the wife is no longer free to say what is on her mind, but may share
only those "approved" sentiments expected of a good wife.
The next section explains that the bride will have no
freedom; she will be instructed by her husband's nod and she must fear him as
if he were God. Every day she will be expected to serve and obey; she may not
have any original thoughts—her only thoughts are those her husband approves of.
He exerts the power in their world; he is the one with the intelligence, not his wife.
Finally, with all these dire
circumstances presented, the author issues her final warning. Women should
do anything possible to avoid ("shun") the ["wretched"]
state of marriage. (Her intent is seen in her repetition of "shun.")
If a man approaches a woman with flattery and fawning (giving exaggerated
attention), detest him. Beyond all things, a woman must remember her importance
and her value as an individual, and spurn the attention of men. A woman must be
proud, wise, and single in order to be happy.
Although Lady Mary Chudleigh was
herself married, and a mother of five children, she was not unknown to speak
out against things occurring that affected women of the time. She wrote
another poem called "The Ladies Defence," influenced by an angry
sermon preached against the fair sex.
C.
Alexander Pope From “ The Rape of The Lock”
a.
Biography of Alexander Pope
ALEXANDER POPE, English poet, was born in Lombard Street, London, on the
21st of May 1688. His father, Alexander Pope, a Roman Catholic, was a
linen-draper who afterwards retired from business with a small fortune, and
fixed his residence about 1700 at Binfield in Windsor Forest. Pope's education
was desultory. His father's religion would have excluded him from the public
schools, even had there been no other impediment to his being sent there.
Before he was twelve he had obtained a smattering of Latin and Greek from various
masters, from a priest in Hampshire, from a schoolmaster at Twyford near
Winchester, from Thomas Deane, who kept a school in Marylebone and afterwards
at Hyde Park Corner, and finally from another priest at home. Between his
twelfth and his seventeenth years excessive application to study undermined his
health, and he developed the personal deformity which was in so many ways to
distort his view of life. He thought himself dying, but through a friend,
Thomas (afterwards the Abbe) Southcote, he obtained the advice of the famous
physician John Radcliffe, who prescribed diet and exercise. Under this
treatment the boy recovered his strength and spirits. "He thought himself
the better," Spence says, "in some respects for not having had a regular
education. He (as he observed in particular) read originally for the sense,
whereas we are taught for so many years to read only for words." He
afterwards learnt French and Italian, probably in a similar way. He read
translations of the Greek, Latin, French and Italian poets, and by the age of
twelve, when he was finally settled at home and left to himself, he was not
only a confirmed reader, but an eager aspirant to the highest honours in
poetry. There is a story, which chronological considerations make extremely improbable,
that in London he had crept into Will's coffee-house to look at Dryden, and a
further tale that the old poet had given him a shilling for a translation of
the story of Pyramus and Thisbe; he had lampooned his schoolmaster; he had made
a play out of John Ogilby's Iliad for his schoolfellows; and
before he was fifteen he had written an epic, his hero being Alcander, a prince
of Rhodes, or, as he states elsewhere, Deucalion.
The year 1725 may be taken as the
beginning of the third period of Pope's career, when he made his fame as a
moralist and a satirist. It may be doubted whether Pope had the staying power
necessary for the composition of a great imaginative work, whether his crazy
constitution would have held together through the strain. He toyed with the
idea of writing a grand epic. He told Spence that he had it all in his head,
and gave him a vague (and it must be admitted not very promising) sketch of the
subject and plan of it. But he never put any of it on paper. He shrank as with
instinctive repulsion from the stress and strain of complicated designs. Even
his prolonged task of translating weighed heavily on his spirits, and this was
a much less formidable effort than creating an epic. He turned rather to
designs that could be accomplished in detail, works of which the parts could be
separately laboured at and put together with patient care, into which happy
thoughts could be fitted that had been struck out at odd moments and in
ordinary levels of feeling.
He died on the 30th of May
1744, and he was buried in the parish church of Twickenham. He left the income
from his property to Martha Blount till her death, after which it was to go to
his half-sister Magdalen Rackett and her children. His unpublished MSS. were
left at the discretion of Lord Bolingbroke, and his copyrights to Warburton.
b.
“The Rape of the Lock” By Alexander Pope
Summary
The Rape of the Lock opens
with an invocation of a muse and establishes the poem’s subject matter,
specifically a “dire offense from amorous causes” and the “mighty contests
[rising] from trivial things” (1-2). The speaker concludes his invocation by
asking the muse to explain first why a lord of good-breeding would assault a
lady and, secondly, why a lady would reject a lord.
The
action of the poem begins with the rising sun awakening the residents of a
wealthy household. Though everyone, including the lapdogs, has risen, Belindaremains asleep. She dreams of a handsome youth who informs
her that she is protected by a “thousand bright inhabitants of air:” spirits
that were once human women who now protect virgins.
The
youth explains that after a woman dies, her spirit returns to elemental form;
namely, to fire, water, earth, and air. Each element is characterized by
different types of women. Termagants or scolds become fire spirits or
Salamanders. Indecisive women become water spirits. Prudes or women who delight
in rejecting men become Gnomes (earth spirits). Coquettes become Sylphs (air
spirits).
The
dream is sent to Belinda by Ariel, “her
guardian Sylph” (20). The Sylphs are Belinda’s guardians because they
understand her vanity and pride, having been coquettes when they were humans.
They are devoted to any woman who “rejects mankind” (68). Their role is to
guide young women through the “mystic mazes” of social interaction (92).
At
the end of the dream, Ariel warns Belinda of an impending “dread event,” urging
her to “Beware of all, but most beware of Man” (109, 114). Belinda is then
awoken by her lapdog, Shock. Upon rising, she sees that a billet-doux,
or a love-letter, has arrived for her, causing her to forget the details of the
dream.
Now
awake, Belinda begins her elaborate toilette. Pope endows every object from
combs and pins to billet-doux and Bibles with significance in
this ritual of dressing: “Each silver vase in mystic order laid” (122). Belinda
herself is described as a “goddess,” looking at her “heavenly image” in the
mirror (132, 125). The elegant language and importance of such objects thus
elevate the process of dressing to a sacred rite.
The Sylphs assist in Belinda’s dressing routine, setting her
hair and straightening her gown. Fully arrayed, Belinda emerges from her
chamber.
Analysis
The opening of The Rape of
the Lock establishes the poem’s mock-heroic tone. In the tradition of
epic poetry, Pope opens the poem by invoking a muse, but rather than invoke one
of the mythic Greek muses, Pope leaves the muse anonymous and instead dedicates
the poem to John Caryll, the man who commissioned the poem. The first
verse-paragraph also introduces Pope’s epic subject matter: a war arising from
“amorous causes” (1). Unlike Menelaus’ fury at Paris’ theft of Helen or
Achilles’ quarrel with Agamemnon over Briseis in The Iliad,
however, the poem’s “mighty contests rise from trivial things” (2). Indeed,
these “mighty contests” are merely flirtations and card games rather than the
great battles of the Greek epic tradition.
The second verse-paragraph
encapsulates Pope’s subversion of the epic genre. In lines 11-12 Pope
juxtaposes grand emotions with unheroic character-types, specifically “little
men” and women: “In tasks so bold can little men engage, / And in soft bosoms
dwells such mighty rage.” The irony of pairing epic characteristics with lowly
human characters contributes to Pope’s mock-heroic style. Furthermore, the
“mighty rage” of women evokes the rage of Achilles at the outset of The
Iliad, foreshadowing the comic gender-reversal that characterizes the rest
of the poem. Rather than distinguish the subjects of the poem as in a
traditional epic, Pope uses the mock-heroic genre to elevate and ridicule his
subjects simultaneously, creating a satire that chides society for its
misplaced values and emphasis on trivial matters.
Belinda’s dream provides the mythic
structure of the poem. In this segment, Pope introduces the supernatural forces
that affect the action of the poem, much the way that the gods and goddesses
of The Iliad would influence the progress of the Trojan War.
Just as Athena protects Diomedes and Aphrodite supports Paris during the Trojan
War, Ariel is the guardian of Belinda. Unlike the Greek gods, however, Ariel
possesses little power to protect his ward and preserve her chastity. In this
initial canto, Belinda forgets Ariel’s warnings of impending dangers upon
receiving a billet-doux. Though charged with protecting Belinda’s
virtue, it seems that Ariel cannot fully guard her from the perils of love,
unable to distract her even from a relatively harmless love letter. In the
dream Ariel indicates that all women have patron sprites, depending on their
personality type. Ariel explains that when women die, their spirits return
“from earthly vehicles” to “their first elements” (50, 58). Each personality
type—scolds, undecided women, prudes, coquettes—becomes a Salamander, Nymph,
Gnome, or Sylph, respectively. These four types are associated with both the
four humors and the four elements. Having been “light coquettes” as human
women, the Sylphs are most closely affiliated with Belinda. Belinda herself is
a coquette, and it is this aspect of femininity with which Pope is most
concerned.
Pope explores the role of the
coquette in this first canto. He demonstrates that womanly priorities are
limited to personal pleasures and social aspirations. In his description of the
Sylphs during the dream sequence, Pope enumerates coquettish vanities. As
humans these women valued their “beauteous mold” and enjoyed frivolous
diversions, which they continue to take pleasure in as sprites (48). The “joy
in gilded chariots” suggests a preference for superficial grandeur and external
signifiers of wealth (55). Similar
D.
Jonathan Swift A Modest Proposal (Prose)
a.
Biography of Jonathan Swift
Birth
Jonathan Swift was born in Dublin. His father died before he was born, and his nurse, who (according to Swift’s later account) had become very fond of her young charge, took him at the age of one year old to Whitehaven in Cumberland, where he remained with her until the age of 3.
Jonathan Swift was born in Dublin. His father died before he was born, and his nurse, who (according to Swift’s later account) had become very fond of her young charge, took him at the age of one year old to Whitehaven in Cumberland, where he remained with her until the age of 3.
Education
On his return
to Ireland his education was paid for by his uncle, Godwin,
first at Kilkenny School (1673, 6) and then at Trinity College,
Dublin (1682, 15).
First
employment
After an
undistinguished university career, he went to stay with his mother, Abigail
Erick, in Leicester, and shortly afterwards, in 1689 (22), he became secretary
to Sir William Temple,
the diplomat and writer, at Moor Park in Surrey, during which time he had full
access to Temple’s impressive library.
First
major works
It was
also here that he began his first major work, A Tale of a Tub, and
completed The Battle of the Books, a satire concerning whether
ancient or modern authors were to be preferred, which was the continuation of a
debate begun by Temple in his Essay upon Ancient and Modern
Learning of 1692. Both works were published anonymously in 1704
(37).
Ireland
He
returned to Ireland in 1694 (27), and was ordained as a priest in 1695 (28).
Second period with Temple
In 1696 (29) he obtained a licence for non
residence at his living in Kilroot, and rejoined Temple, beginning work on his
patron’s memoirs and correspondence.
Second
period in Ireland
When
Temple died in 1699 (32) Swift returned to Ireland once more, where, having
resigned his living, he had hopes of becoming chaplain and secretary to
the Earl of Berkeley,
Lord Justice of Ireland, but lost the opportunity because of an intrigue. He
subsequently held various posts in the Irish Church, and in 1702 (35) Stella,
who had been left property in Ireland in Temple’s will, joined him in Dublin.
In 1707 (40) he was sent to London as an emissary of the Irish clergy, seeking
remission of tax on Irish clerical incomes, but his suit was rejected by the Whig government.
Alexander
Pope
In the
same year he stayed with Alexander Pope in Twickenham, and between 1727 (60)
and 1736 (69) five volumes of Swift-Pope Miscellanies were
published.
Mental
decay and death
His mental decay, which he had
always feared, became pronounced from 1738 (70). Paralysis was followed by
aphasia and a long period of apathy. He died in 1745 (78), and was buried in St
Patrick’s, alongside Stella. He wrote his own epitaph : ‘The body of Jonathan
Swift, Doctor of Sacred Theology, Dean of this Cathedral Church, is buried
here, where fierce indignation can no more lacerate his heart. Go, traveller,
and imitate, if you can, one who strove with all his strength to champion
liberty.’
b.
A Modest of Proposal
Modest Proposal
Even
though Gulliver's Travels, Swift's epic travel parody, was written
first, we're going to talk about A Modest Proposal now. A
Modest Proposal's full name is A Modest Proposal for Preventing
the Children of Poor People From Being a Burden on Their Parents or Country,
and for Making Them Beneficial to the Publick (and that's 'publick'
with a 'k' - fun fact). The topic of the pamphlet is one that Swift had taken up
throughout his life - the conditions of impoverished Irish people. This time,
Swift's dark sense of humor led him to suggest a pretty nasty way for the poor
Irish to lead a better life - they could sell their babies to rich people to be
eaten. Yes - baby-eating.
Of course,
he wasn't serious - though not everyone picked up on that. Swift was actually
employing a classical Latin form of satire in which an extreme
position is taken up to ridicule it, and the audience is never really let in on
the joke - they're supposed to figure it out for themselves that Swift is
kidding. Of course, not everybody did. But you can even see the satire even in
the title because what's so 'modest' about suggesting that people sell their
babies to be eaten?
Swift had
a few other targets that he was lampooning here as well, like the people of his
time who thought that they could offer easy cure-alls to society's problems in
just a little pamphlet. He was also pointing out the dehumanization of the
lower classes - this is something he saw around him a lot - where poor people
were basically reduced to statistics and not actually viewed as human beings.
Swift
ultimately does introduce actual notions of reforms that he think would work,
though he does this using a tactic called paralipsis, which is
introducing a topic by saying it shouldn't be talked about (yeah, there's a
word for that). The things that Swift embraces through this mocking tone
include using only Irish-made goods, tightening up on personal spending habits
and encouraging all Irish citizens to be more peaceful and understanding of
their neighbors - relatively reasonable suggestions (much more so than selling
your babies to be eaten). Of course, that part of the text hasn't really stuck
with people as much as baby-eating. That vivid, unexpected image is what
makes A Modest Proposal so famous even today and really one of
the best examples of satire ever written because its point of view is so
extreme.
Gulliver's Travels
So that
was A Modest Proposal, and we're going to move on to Gulliver's
Travels, which is really, I think, Swift's most famous work, and it's
pretty incredible. It's an epic satire, a parody of a travel novel and also a
sort of prototype for the science fiction genre that was to come. Gulliver's
Travels is a four-tale story of the adventures of a ship captain named
Gulliver. Throughout these books, he will travel to lots of lands and encounter
all sorts of strange people and places, and each one is meant to illuminate
some folly of the human condition that he's observed in his own life.
I'm going
to go through what happens in each of the books, then we'll talk about what it
was that Swift was trying to point out with each of these stories. Don't be
afraid if you hear a lot of crazy names that make no sense, and if the way I
pronounce them isn't the way you would pronounce them, I apologize - I'm really
doing my best.
In the
first book, Gulliver is shipwrecked and ends up in a place called Lilliput,
and it's a land of tiny people that are all under six inches tall - so, of
course, Gulliver is a giant because he's what we would consider a regular-sized
person. Gulliver takes up a position in the Lilliputian court, where he's put
to work attacking their enemies, who are the Blefuscudians. These groups are at
war over how to crack an egg. Gulliver refuses to use his massive size to
obliterate the enemies completely, which pisses them off. Then he also puts out
a fire by urinating on it, and I think that was really the nail in the coffin
for Gulliver on Lilliput. He's charged with treason, but because he's a giant,
he manages to escape and returns to England for the time being. That's the
first book.
In the
second book, the tables are turned, and Gulliver is abandoned in the land
of Brobdingnag, which is a place full of giants. So, before
Gulliver was much bigger than the inhabitants, and now he's much smaller. He's
taken in by a local farmer as a curiosity (like, 'Oh, look at the tiny guy I
found!') and is purchased by the Queen for her collection of oddities (which sort
of reminds me of something that the Queen of Hearts from Alice in
Wonderland would do, but that's just me). While he's in the company of
the royal family, Gulliver regales them with stories of his life in England,
and it seems that the people there are all a little bummed out by it. They
think England sounds like a violent and petty place. Eventually, as you might
expect, a giant eagle snatches Gulliver up and drops him into the sea, where
he's received by a group of sailors.
The third
book finds Gulliver marooned after a pirate attack in the land of Laputa,
a floating island whose inhabitants rigorously pursue mathematics and science
but for no real reason; they just like inane experimentation. For those of us
who aren't scientifically inclined ourselves, this can be how we view all
people who rigorously pursue math and science. During this voyage, he also
takes a side-trip to the land of Luggnagg, which is populated with ancient
immortals called Struldbrugs, who age but never seem to die. Eventually, Gulliver
manages to escape by way of Japan and then returns to England. A lot more
happens than I'm talking about - these are just really the bullet points here.
In the
fourth and final book, Gulliver suffers a mutiny at the hands of his crew and
winds up on an island controlled by the Houyhnhnms. They are
incredibly wise but highly dispassionate horse-people. On that island, humans
are wild, second-class citizens called Yahoos. Gulliver finds great
joy in this society of the wise Houyhnhnms, but eventually they figure out that
Gulliver's just another Yahoo, and they exile him. Gulliver eventually does get
back home to England, but now he's a changed man; he spends most of his time
thinking about these experiences that he's had and refusing the company of people
he now considers Yahoos (which are just other humans), and he'll even go to the
stables to hang out with horses because he misses the company of the
Houyhnhnms. So ends Gulliver's Travels.
That's
what happens in the book, which can seem like a lot of ridiculous nonsense,
just like a crazy fairy story, but there's really more going on. Critics have
literally filled books talking about the deeper meanings of all of his journeys
and the people that Gulliver encounters, so we're just going to scratch the surface
here a little bit.
Each
land that Gulliver visits is pretty clearly meant to represent some exaggerated
human trait or philosophy that he observed at his time. The Lilliputians are
small, and they're warlike. They fight over stupid things like cracking an egg.
This is how we imagine Swift viewed England at the time. In the second book,
the tables are turned, and Swift can't escape the association of his
countrymen; in the land of peaceful giants, he's a quaint oddity from the land
of angry, violent people.
In
the third book, the Laputians criticize this slavish devotion to science and
reason without a sense behind it - it's not too dissimilar from one of his
attacks in A Modest Proposal, actually. The immortal, miserable
Struldbrugs show that even having all the time in the world to think about
stuff doesn't necessarily guarantee happiness. Then finally, the fourth book
presents the hyper-rational Houyhnhnms, a race Gulliver desperately wants to be
a part of but yet cannot. Gulliver's realization that he is, at least in part,
a wild Yahoo is sobering for him; having seen the alternative - the way he
could be living - he never really feels comfortable amongst his own people
again. (That's kind of a bummer.)
Swift's Themes Summed Up
There's
really a whole lot more that I could say about Gulliver's Travels,
but that's a really quick overview of its plot and themes, and I hope you'll
check it out for yourself, as well as A Modest Proposal. Swift
really used Gulliver to satirize the human condition; through exaggerated
comedy, he ridiculed prominent thoughts of his day, but he also tried to offer
people some comfort. Gulliver, after all, has to accept that he's passionate,
not-always-logical and just a human being at the end of the day, even if he'd
rather be something else (in this case, a horse-person...). Regardless, you
have to be who you are, even if you think the alternative might be better.
This same
idea comes up in A Modest Proposal as well - there's the
central notion which is based on a totally dispassionate sentiment - that
Ireland can take care of its poor if they would only sell babies to be eaten.
Looking at these two works combined, it really seems as though Swift was
advocating for a more compassionate way of life, workable reforms for the
conditions in Ireland and England and really just more sympathy amongst peoples
and an effort to understand each other instead of offering crazy solutions,
like going to war or eating babies. Even in Swift's broad, unflinching comedy,
humanity always shines through, and that's what I'd like you to remember about
Jonathan Swift.
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