Worthy

Why are books like Hamlet, or Waiting for Godot, or Brave New World of so much literary value? Why do they receive such endless praise?  Because they make the reader think about something that connects him or her to the novel.  The Stranger and Catch-22 both make the reader think about death, at some point, but the way that the motif is explored is very different.  The comparison of these two thematic expositions makes the reader realize that while both Yossarian and Meursault are facing death throughout much of their respective novels, the approach is different.

In The Stranger, Meursault— the narrator— accepts the inevitability of death and is at peace with what it entails; the narrator in Catch-22 portrays Yossarian as being afraid of death. Joseph Heller makes death collateral damage to the satiric nature of his writing.  Albert Camus envelops existentialism in death.  This can be seen when Meursault says that he “opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself—so like a brother, really—I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again.”  Interestingly, Heller uses Yossarian’s wry honesty to make a similar point: “it wasn’t their fault that they were courageous, confident and carefree. He would just have to be patient with them until one or two were killed and the rest wounded, and then they would all turn out okay.”  While it is evident to the reader that Meursault has made peace with his execution and that death isn’t a threat to him, Yossarian’s ambiguous and fickle relationship with the war doesn’t allow the reader to completely grasp what he feels.  Camus explains the existentialist nature of life directly through the main character.  On the other hand, Heller uses the protagonist to show how in war death becomes a blurry theme.  What makes the novels worthy of comparison is that although Yossarian may not understand the connotation of death, he has thought about its absurdity enough to reach Meursault’s conclusion: death is not worthy of thought.

Meursault and Yossarian have very different lives and their experiences are exposed to the reader in very different ways, but they both touch upon something that the reader will inevitably reach, death.  It is because of this parallel structure to the reader’s life, satire or existentialism aside— that both novels are so critically acclaimed. 

Not Willing to Conform

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and Joseph Heller’s Catch-22 may not have much in common in terms of, well, anything.  But the underlying message in each novel, although different, describes aspects of America that neither author wanted to see and both have come to despise: the relentless Machiavellian pursuit of a ruptured dream.

Heller begins the book with a playful tone that portrays the randomness andThe Great Gatsby from the beginning of the novel.  When McWatt decides, “Oh, well, what the hell,” and flies into the mountain, Colonel Cathcart decides to raise the amount of missions to sixty-five.  It seems that the sad troops have gone insane, and they are so war weary that they can’t continue, yet a faded, and not very present, dream requires that they stay longer.  In Fitzgerald’s novel, Gatsby is confident bordering on cocky when he says to Nick: “You’re having lunch with me today” with what Nick describes as “resourcefulness of movement that is so peculiarly American.” Heller’s idea of funny comes embedded in a critique of American foreign policy where enforcing international supremacy— which isn’t even mentioned in the novel— is more important than the troops’ morale.  In The Great Gatsby, a different kind of weapon is used to attack a similar target: Jay Gatsby’s emphasis on material wealth is used to critique the American Dream.  Gatsby knows that a proper rich man (although he only made it to West Egg) need not ask someone like Nick out for lunch, informing him will suffice.  In both novels, the author doesn’t blatantly clobber American culture, rather, they play with the tone used to describe the protagonists and the situations around them to get their point across.  Interestingly, it could be said that the raising of the missions is failing to conform when change is needed, while Gatsby’s conforming to the upper class attitude is changing when it isn’t needed.

frustration that comes from Catch-22; little by little that parody of the military evolves into dark almost lugubrious humor.  On the other hand, the reader can sense the resentful tone in the description of the 1920s in

Catch-22 portrays the suffering that comes from exposure to war.  The Great Gatsby uses a simple plot to explain the pitfalls of the consumer culture.  Both attack the American mentality by exposing a small group of characters— soldiers in one case and rich people in the other— to the reality of what can come to be America. 

Yossarian: an obscure monster

Whilst reading Catch-22 it is inevitable to not feel overwhelmed by the amount of questions that the novel foments.  With this in mind, I attempted to narrow down the seemingly endless inquiries to the ones that were based on the text.  The title, which is the central most important text in the novel, is defined by the book itself, so I turned to the next important recurring word: Yossarian.  Yossarian is never defined in the novel— or anywhere else— meaning that Heller created the name as part of the message that he wanted Catch-22 to portray.

           

            The ongoing criticism of the American military and the values and morals that it abides by is enveloped in Catch-22’s satirical and cynic tone.  While the author does use a mocking tone to make a point, the main character’s name can be said to define the entire institution that Heller despises.  John Yossarian is the name given to a member of the congregation of America-hating idiots that question the authority.  At least, that is what one can assume based on the reaction to the sole description of his name in the entire novel: “Yossarian— the very sight of the name made him shudder. There were so many esses in it. It just had to be subversive. It was like the word subversive itself. It was like seditious and insidious too, and like socialist, suspicious, fascist and communist... It was not at all like such clean, crisp, honest, American names like Cathcart, Peckem and Dreedle.” The brilliance of Heller’s not-so-subtle name choice lies in the subtle nature of its description, or lack thereof.  Maybe the reason why he chose a name with so many esses was so that it sounded like the USSR.  After all, those communist and socialist animals were waging a war against the U-S-of-A! Perhaps the reason he chose Yossarian was because it was a twisted onomatopoeia to the sound made by a subversive officer.  The insidious nature of a Yossarian (now a noun) was one so that little by little the land of the free and the home of the brave could be taken over by insubordinate pilots that show up naked to funerals. 

            While Catch-22 may raise many questions regarding the writing style that the author employed and the odd plot that it follows, the name Yossarian is by far the most unresolvable riddle.  The message that the book portrays critiques American war culture in a mocking tone.  Nevertheless, maybe Heller just wanted to use a name that was, to say the least, uncommon, so that the reader couldn’t associate with it.  For fun’s sake, lets hope not.  

Not to Procrastinate

How do we stop believing the lies we tell ourselves?  An article from the BBC recently compared the modern-day procrastinator with Hamlet.  The conclusion that the author reached was that procrastinators— and Hamlet— are worse off than people who do things in a scheduled and timely way.  In my life, I feel that this statement has been true, especially when it comes to academics. 

            Procrastinating has been an issue that I have had to deal with for my entire life.  The author of the article asks an important question, which she then answers perfectly: “we are perfectionists who do our best work under pressure? Baloney.” I attributed Hamlet’s decision to wait so long to kill Claudius to indecision; never did I think that the Prince was a procrastinator.  However, when the author presented this idea, I immediately felt the situation apply to my own life.  Of course, I have never pondered killing my uncle, but I have felt a gripping force that pulls me towards indecision at times when I know that the action I have to take is inexorable.  Nothing is going to happen if I wait a little while to do my math homework…right?  I have lost count of the times that I said something along those lines, only to look back the next day and reply to the previous thought with something like: what an idiot! At the age of sixteen, I know only the inner teenager that the author was talking about.  So why is it that princes and students and journalists all stumble upon the torment of procrastination?  We all have time to decide.  When I walk into class to find a pop quiz on my desk, I don’t wonder whether or not to actually do it.  Hamlet would’ve killed Claudius in Act I had he known for certain that if he didn’t act then he could never have the chance again.  And the journalist always ends up posting an article, even if it has been bogged down by the mediocrity that is the product of procrastination.

            So, what can be said for certain is that procrastination is inevitable, right?  Wrong.  While we know that procrastination is harmful to the pursuit of excellence, we also know it is definitely something that can be eliminated completely when there is no choice but to act.  The biggest lie we tell ourselves isn’t that we do good work when we’re tired, it’s that we can’t stop procrastinating!  Reader, if, after reading Hamlet, the BBC article and this blog, you still find yourself procrastinating, try this simple solution: always take the easy way out— for a while.  You’ll find that after you are fired, or your victim managed to escape, or you failed an entire course, you won’t even think about putting off work the next time you have a choice.  

The Power of Inquiry

The mentality of a man in captivity evolves in ways that may seem incomprehensible to a free man.  An interview that questioned the thought process of violent criminals in a high-security prison wanted to explore Hamlet through the eyes of incarcerated men.  However, the interview evolved into an existential realization for the prisoners.  One question that the interviewer raised in his sessions with the inmates particularly interested me: are we forever the prisoners of our actions? 

This American Life emphasizes that in modern times, we are always the prisoners of our actions as a result of the justice system.  What the prisoners and Agnes emphasize is that they are so psychologically affected by their actions, that they will forever live as prisoners of what they did.  The “palpable” feeling of remorse and discontent that Agnes describes is mirrored from Hamlet to the actors.  The only difference between the actors and the characters is that the actors— who aren’t Danish princes in a play— already made the decision to commit murder and can therefore relive the horror of what Hamlet is about to go through.  While questioning whether we are prisoners of our own actions can make for an exhaustive discussion about the nature of guilt, perseverance, and causality, the question transcends to a deeper philosophical spectrum when the people that are supposed to answer it are literally prisoners because of their actions— some of them for the rest of their lives.  The fact that some inmates know both the cause and the effect of murder makes it is easy for them to understand Hamlet’s indecision when pondering whether or not to kill his uncle.  

The podcast is interesting because it provides the listener with a new take on Act V of Hamlet.  The prisoners’ insight is interesting because they take the listener out of the context of the play and into a broader state of mind.  While I can almost certainly say that no one in my AP Literature class has committed murder, I can also ascertain that all students have done something that they regret.  Even if we didn’t have to go to jail for doing that abominable thing, we do have to deal with the guilt.  So, it is safe to say that Hamlet is a prisoner of his actions, so is “hutch,” so are you, and so am I.  The enormous chasm between Hamlet, a murderer and a high school student was erased by the power of a simple question.