Arms of the Father

Tony Filpi
English 630
Dr. Picicci
7 April 2010

Arms of the Father

One of the aspects of Calvino’s The Secret Path to the Spider’s Nests is Pin’s search for some special friend he can share his secret place with, and while this hope of Pin’s is overtly expressed at several junctures in the story, the type of individual he is seeking remains a vague shadow throughout the text. Rather than some special friend, I propose that this entire text is an exorcise in searching for and defining family; specifically, Pin is searching for a father.

We are first introduced to this idea at the beginning of the text, when Pin describes his life as a child of the alley. His sister is an unconcerned prostitute, and he is rejected by the younger children and those of his own age. The only solace and companionship he can find is in the memory of his father’s arms and the company of the drunks at the local bar. The men of the bar confuse Pin, and he is uncomfortable with the pastimes of these adults: he finds them “harsh like all the sensations men enjoy; smoke, wine, women” (34). His memory of his father isn’t much better, but in this we find the connection to this ultimate redemption.

The description of his father’s hands is brief, but its importance becomes obvious once one pairs it with the arrival of Cousin. He remembers, “being swung in the air in his big bare arms, strong arms marked with black veins” (42). It is this faceless set of arms that Pin is seeking in the men he meets, and though Pin attempts to find a father figure in the men from the bar, Committee, his master, and even possibly the German his sister is sleeping with, it is in the hands of Cousin that he finds acceptance.

Cousin is the most interesting of Pin’s acquaintances. Calvino hamstrings him with a disability, like most of the other characters, but Cousin is able to retain his humanity regardless of his neurosis, a deep hated and distrust of women. This seems particularly significant during the first meeting between him and Pin and the final scene of the novel. Before their first meeting, Pin is abandoned by Red Wolf, and Cousin finds him wondering in the woods. When Cousin questions him, Pin falls back to identifying himself as the brother of The Girl from Long Alley (84). Rather than rejecting Pin, Cousin responds with “ Yes…yes…yes…yes…’” He goes on to hint at his disgust of women by telling Pin that “War’s all the fault of women,” but the significance of this scene is in his acceptance of Pin, even though Pin’s only identity is found though a medium that Cousin despises. His acceptance of Pin is solidified when he offers to carry Pin back to camp, as Pin’s father once carried him, but Pin settles for allowing “The big man [to] take him by the hand” and walk him to camp.

This concept is furthered at the end of the book when the two meet again by chance. Cousin appears to be over his hatred of women and asks to visit Pin’s sister, but when he returns, he tells Pin that he “got disgusted” (184). However, he still maintains his relationship with Pin, and the implication at the end of the story is of a kind of adoption. Pin is able to show Cousin his spiders, and the big man pays attention. The final lines cement the almost magical reunion with a father Pin has never known: “And they walk on, the big man and the child, into the night, amid the fireflies, holding each other by the hand” (185). Pin finally has a face to attach to the “bare arms” and a friend to share his secret place.

Italian Lit Proposal 2

Tony Filpi

English 630

Dr. Picicci

31 March 2010

The Death of the Prince

In the shorter version of my paper, I address the significance of Machiavelli’s works in regard to Italian views on the role of a ruler or ruling party. I specifically discuss the Lampedusa’s obligation to address Machiavelli and how his work picks apart the role of the medieval archetype through the ascension of the merchant class. Rather than viewing the state as an extension of the ruler, the merchant class viewed the state as tool for producing wealth. This, in turn, disinterested the role of Machiavelli’s prince.

To expand on this concept of eliminating the prince, I would like to bring up an earlier attempt, one that focuses on the faith as the excusatory element to the prince. For this, I feel that Manzoni’s Betrothed would present my ideas nicely. Manzoni presents a world not unlike the one inhabited by Machiavelli himself; however, in this world, the characters who most embody the ideals of Machiavelli’s prince are either removed from power or converted to working for the good of the people separate from the good of the state.

I plan to follow the characters of Don Rodrigo and The Unnamed as my principle examples. I think that presenting Manzoni’s treatment of these two characters will highlight a historical attempt to dismantle the conscienceless ruler well before Lampedusa dethrones him with the middle class republic.

Di Lampedusa, Giuseppe. The Leopard. Trans. Archibald Colquhoun. New

York: Pantheon Books, 2007. Print.

Geerken, Jonh H. Machiavelli Studies Since 1969. Journal of the History of Ideas, Vol. 37, No.

2 Apr. - Jun., 1976, pp. 351-368. Print.

Kuhns, R.F. (1969). Modernity and Death: The Leopard by Giuseppe Di Lampedusa. Contemp.

Psychoanal., 5:95-118. Print.

Paolucci, Anne. “Comprendere Manzoni.” Comparative Literature Studies, Vol. 13, No. 4 Dec.,

1976, pp. 380-383. Print.
Prezzolini, Giuseppe. Machiavelli: A Study in the Life, Work, Influence and Originality of an

Obscure Florentine Civil Servant Who Has Become Our Contemporary New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1967. Print.

Machiavelli, Niccolo. The Discourses Trans. Leslie Joseph Walker. London: Penguin, 1983.

Print.

----. The Prince Trans. W.K. Marriott. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1992. Print.

Italian Lit Essay Proposal I

Machiavelli Paper Proposal

I would like to examine the relation of Machiavelli’s political theory to the works of The Leopard and The Betrothed. I would argue that Machiavelli’s advice to his Prince was well known enough during the times of both Manzoni and Lampedusa that they would have had to write their texts knowingly in either agreement or opposition. Though I cannot prove this fact for certain, by examining the characters of Don Rodrigo, the Unnamed, Don Fabrizio, Don Cologero, and Father Pirrone, I believe I can paint a clear connection between Machiavelli’s words and the characters’ actions. In addition to making the case for a connection, I would also argue that the religious slant of the two pieces was instrumental in deciding to agree or oppose The Prince.

To this end, I would argue that all five of my subjects represent a Machiavellian character, but each characters’ actions and ultimate fates at the end of the text reflect their author’s feelings. Don Rodrigo is a foreign power attempting to maintain control in his domain, while feeling entitled to his carnal intentions toward Lucia. He is ultimately destroyed for his self-serving abuse of power. The Unnamed employs his power in the same way, but is saved by the author through an act of expiation. Fabrizio and Cologero, exercise their power for their own benefit, which they believe will in turn benefit the larger state that they control. While the author does not necessarily paint these characters as successful, Fabrizio is able to maintain control much longer than his aristocratic counterparts and Cologero is able to lift his family out of obscurity. Both of these characters are able to accomplish their goals through an intellectual strategy that either bends morality or ignores it all together. Both believe that gaining and maintaining their power is beneficial to the good of the state.

Father Pirrone is a unique case. He will be used to highlight the actions of both Fabrizio and Cologero through his own actions and conversations in Cono. Lampedusa uses Pirrone to explain the motivations of the nobility.

For resources, I plan to use

Geerken, Jonh H. Machiavelli Studies Since 1969. Journal of the History of Ideas, Vol. 37, No.
2 Apr. - Jun., 1976, pp. 351-368

Kuhns, R.F. (1969). Modernity and Death: The Leopard by Giuseppe Di Lampedusa. Contemp.
Psychoanal., 5:95-118.

Machiavelli, Niccolo. The Prince, translated by N.H. Thomson. Vol. XXXVI, Part 1. The
Harvard Classics. New York: P.F. Collier & Son, 1909–14

Paolucci, Anne. “Comprendere Manzoni.” Comparative Literature Studies, Vol. 13, No. 4 Dec.,
1976, pp. 380-383

The Concise Morality

Morality—since our discussion of Quintilian, I don’t think we have brought up a topic this semester that has sparked more discussion from all parts of the class. I was impressed with Eagleton’s treatment of the subject in his chapter with the same name. Though there is clearly a socialist agenda at work here, Eagleton’s contrast between moral and moralism is one of the most important statements we have read all semester: “Moralism believes that there is a set of questions known as moral questions which are quite distinct from social or political ones. It does not see that ‘moral’ means exploring the texture and quality of human behavior as richly and sensitively as you can, and that you cannot do this by abstracting men and women from their social surroundings” (143). Though this might not seem significant, it is the answer to almost all of our classroom arguments regarding feminism, abortion, and the “good man”. Morality can only be assessed in the context of one’s social setting, and while Eagleton admits that the scholarly community is hesitant to address morality in this way, I agree that a change, or rupture if you will, is coming. Morality is tied up in our biological imperative to cooperatively thrive, not in questions of sexuality or evil.

Whether or not the Shoe Fits

Goldberg’s piece made me think about a few subjects we have discussed this semester regarding identity. Since reading Quintilian, we have come back again and again to the idea that we, as humans, define our identity through opposition. I know who I am because I can explain what I am not. Goldberg seems to be explaining the same concept with homosexuality in Renaissance England. The common, strait people could not articulate homosexuality, but they could articulate “sedition, demonism, and atheism” (371). They, therefore, grouped the inarticulate identity of “other” with those “others” they could define. What makes this article interesting to me is Goldberg’s structuring of the homosexual identity as being defined through accepting the opposition by which the mainstream indentifies itself. (Do you think Doug will call in a translator for that last sentence?) Goldberg writes that “the voice, that is, of Marlowe’s rebellion against society, which is also the rebellion which his society game him to voice” (373). Marlowe was asked to act as an agent for the crown, and in doing so, was asked to pretend to embody all the things the English community claimed it identified itself against. In reality, this “otherness was in fact Marlowe’s real identity” (373).

In addition to the connection of chosen identity, the article made me think of The Crucible. I know the connection is fairly obvious, but it prodded me think about all of the imposed identities that we are forced to either accept or struggle to discredit. Goldberg’s example of Oscar Wilde is perhaps even more moving than that of Marlowe because there is no conflicting notion of double agency or government mystification: “It was because he was charged with posing as a sodomist that he fined his libel suit” (377). It is unnecessary to establish if Wilde was or was not a homosexual, at least in this instance; the important distinction is that he was convicted and labeled with no such evidence. The identity of “other” was imposed based on the part he played for the audience, regardless of whether or not the shoe fit.

The other subject I saw in this piece that connects with our class is the role of the author. Goldberg identifies the author, whether of texts or theatre, as a disseminator of ideas. It is this that appears to be the crown’s real fear in Goldberg’s piece: “the final charges point to the insidious powers of persuasion upon which authority—and authoring—rest” (376). This perspective is more aligned with I believe than what we have encountered in class. The author’s ideas might be subsumed or even subverted by the reader, but, if written well, they exist, and the possible danger (in the eyes of the crown) also exists that they will be passed on to the reader.

The Structure of Structures

Ok, Greenblatt is important, so let’s look at Greenblatt.

I was taken by Greenblatt’s insistence on locating a structure within literature which will provide “insight into the half-hidden cultural transactions through which great works of art are empowered” (4). This interested me because I immediately thought of Benjamin and Bourdieu.

I wondered if Benjamin would disagree with the emphasis that Greenblatt places on the “aura” of certain pieces literature as works of art. I think that perhaps Greenblatt’s interest in analyzing the energia or the ability to “produce, shape, and organize collective physical and mental experiences, present in Shakespeare’s plays in partially what Benjamin was fearful of.

On a completely different train of thought, I saw Bourdieu’s theory of political representation being applied to the author. (I’d like to use direct quotes from Bourdieu here, but someone walked out with my book last Tuesday; I want it back.) Just as Bourdieu describes the dialectical nature of the power structure shared between the representative and the people as being reciprocal, Greenblatt describes the power structure between the author and the text in the same way. Greenblatt first uses the political example of the prince and his subjects and then points out that “the theatre is manifestly the product of collective intentions”, rather than the product of a single author, and “all [authors are] dependent upon collective genres, narrative patterns, and linguistic conventions” (4, 5). Through this process, the society of authors produce texts, which are influenced by previous texts, and the products of these authors will serve as the further influence for the next series of texts.

I hope that these connections read more clearly in your heads than when I read them aloud. I can’t help but highlight the connections I now see between almost all of the theorists we read, and I would like to talk more about them in class where I might receive help verbalizing my thoughts.

Here's to Your Mr. Thompson

After completing Bourdieu’s work, I’m a little unsure how to put my thoughts into a concise post; therefore, I’m going to give a list of the main points I found and focus on the one which I think is represented in every chapter.

Here are the central points that Bourdieu expresses throughout the text:
1. The dominant language serves as representational symbol of the producer’s power
2. People are interpellated through inculcation
3. Habitus is the result of the inculcation
4. Linguists do not recognize the cultural repercussion of language
5. The power of language is determined by the market or receivers
6. The inequality of between the classes of speakers will never be resolved without a resolution to the class struggle in general
7. Language is NOT action, but it can be the catalyst for action

I’d like to begin by thanking the editor. After reading the first five chapters, I decided I should go back and read the introduction, which I had stupidly skipped. Here was the obvious key that I had been chronicling in my notes without being able to articulate. Bourdieu’s entire piece is focused around two words: habitus and inculcation. Thompson says that habitus is “a set of dispositions which incline agents to act and react in certain ways” (12). He goes on to say the these “dispositions are acquired through the gradual process of inculcation in…early childhood” (12). I found that these two terms were at the center of all the examples I felt were important.

At the beginning of the text Bourdieu points out several examples regarding the nature of habitus. He explains that actions as simple as pronunciation, sitting, and silence are the results of inculcation. Whether unconscious or not, the speaker applies a learned set of actions depending on his or her social situation.

School is a major target of the author. His text approaches the educational system in the same manner as Althusser does his apparatus of interpellation: “Given that the educational system possess the delegated authority…it follows that the social mechanism of cultural transmission tend to reproduce the structural disparity between the very unequal knowledge of the legitimate language and the much more uniform recognition o f this language” (62). What Bourdieu is saying here is that the school systems set children up to understand their place in the class system. If they can reproduce the legitimate language well, they will dominate those who know how it should sound, but lack the education to play “the game.” This system, however, is inescapable, and the students do not have a choice of playing the game or not.

Another example of habitus is presented in the anecdote about the mayor from Bearnais. In this account, the author presents the idea that those in power can use their authority as a master of the legitimate language to subvert the legitimate language for their own ends. This subversion is not a true subversion, the mayor has no wish to subjugate French; he does this win praise from the illiterate (in terms of the legitimate language) by using the subjugated language instead of the dominate form (68).

Later in the text Bourdieu examines another way the people are manipulated. He focuses on the “symbolic efficacy in the construction of reality” though “naming” (105). This power of naming places social constrictions on individuals by grouping them. These organized groups are then inculcated to behave in prescribed manners.

Again, the examples are present in every chapter, but I will end with one from chapter 8. The example from chapter 8 is an extension of the example from page 105. In his examination of politics, Bourdieu claims that a struggle develops between opposing ideologists to win the support of the masses. It is their symbolic power placed in language that allows them to “carr[y] out a political action” (190). The words themselves cannot create any action, but the words spoken by an individual of authority can force the habitus or actions of the market.