Continuity of Parks
Continuity of Parks
Continuity of Parks
He had put it aside because of some urgent business, opened it again on his way back to the estate by train; he allowed himself a slowly growing interest in the plot, in the drawing of characters. That afternoon, after writing a letter to his agent and discussing with the manager of his estate a matter of joint ownership, he returned to the book in the tranquility of his study which looked out upon the park with its oaks. Sprawled in his favorite armchair, with his back to the door, which would otherwise have bothered him as an irritating possibility for intrusions, he let his left hand caress once and again the green velvet upholstery and set to reading the final chapters. Without effort his memory retained the names and images of the protagonists; the illusion took hold of him almost at once. He tasted the almost perverse pleasure of disengaging himself line by line from all that surrounded him, and feeling at the same time that his head was relaxing comfortably against the green velvet of the armchair with its high back, that the cigarettes were still within reach of his hand, that beyond the great windows the afternoon air danced under the oak trees in the park. Word by word, immersed in the sordid dilemma of the hero and heroine, letting himself go toward where the images came together and took on color and movement, he was witness to the final encounter in the mountain cabin. The woman arrived first, apprehensive; now the lover came in, his face cut by the backlash of a branch. Admirably she stanched the blood with her kisses, but he rebuffed her caresses, he had not come to repeat the ceremonies of a secret passion, protected by a world of dry leaves and furtive paths through the forest. The dagger warmed itself against his chest, and underneath pounded liberty, ready to spring. A lustful, yearning dialogue raced down the pages like a rivulet of snakes, and one felt it had all been decided from eternity. Even those caresses which writhed about the lover's body, as though wishing to keep him there, to dissuade him from it, sketched abominably the figure of that other body it was necessary to destroy. Nothing had been forgotten: alibis, unforeseen hazards, possible mistakes. From this hour on, each instant had its use minutely assigned. The cold-blooded, double re-examination of the details was barely interrupted for a hand to caress a cheek. It was beginning to get dark. Without looking at each other now, rigidly fixed upon the task which awaited them, they separated at the cabin door. She was to follow the trail that led north. On the path leading in the opposite direction, he turned for a moment to watch her running with her hair let loose. He ran in turn, crouching among the trees and hedges until he could distinguish in the yellowish fog of dusk the avenue of trees leading up to the house. The dogs were not supposed to bark, and they did not bark. The estate manager would not be there at this hour, and he was not. He went up the three porch steps and entered. Through the blood galloping in his ears came the woman's words: first a blue parlor, then a gallery, then a carpeted stairway. At the top, two doors. No one in the first bedroom, no one in the second. The door of the salon, and then the knife in his hand, the light from the great windows, the high back of an armchair covered in green velvet, the head of the man in the chair reading a novel. Themes, Motifs, and Symbols Themes The Danger of Subsuming Yourself in Literature Continuity of Parks argues that your success in reading or writing fiction depends on your willingness to lose yourself utterly in the task. A true reader, like the protagonist of Cortzars story, will tumble into fiction consciously and deliberately. He will subsume himself so thoroughly that he will feel as if he has become part of the fictional world. If we, Cortzars audience, respond to Continuity of Parks in the way the reader responds to his book, we will come to the end of the story as if coming to the end of a vivid dream, not
sure of what is real and what is imagined. The responsibility of a true writer is to create a world powerful and colorful enough to enable readers to lose themselves in it. At the same time, however, subsuming ones self in reading and writing can be dangerousits no coincidence that the readers book concerns murder and betrayal. The story ends with a suggestion that the immersed reader is, at least metaphorically, on the brink of death. Cortzar implies that becoming engrossed in fiction is both a goal worth striving for and a way of losing hold of your identity. Motifs The Color Green The color green, which recurs throughout Continuity of Parks, highlights the power that fiction gives us to slip into another world while simultaneously remaining in our own world. As the reader lets himself fall into the novel, his green velvet chair acts as an anchor tying him to reality. He enjoys the feeling of the upholstery under his hand and behind his head as he lets the characters and plot wash over him. At the end of the story, when the man sneaks up on his victim, the green velvet armchair he sees sits right on the boundary of real and imagined, making us wonder which is which. Though unnamed, the color green is implied with each mention of the trees and the outdoors, elements that again suggest a simultaneous existence in two worlds. Trees link the two men: the reader senses the presence of the oak trees in his garden while the man in the story is scratched by a tree branch. The title Continuity of Parks also references the color green. On one level, the title refers to Cortzars story, which begins and ends in the readers park. On another level, the title refers to no less than life and fiction, which Cortzar characterizes as a long, interwoven series of green parks. Symbols The Knife The knife, which the man plans to use to kill his lovers husband, stands for the mans jealousy of his rival but, more important, also stands for the potentially lethal intersection between fact and fiction. When the man in the book creeps into the room containing a green armchair, we realize that fiction and reality have blended together and that the reader has become a part of the fictional world in his book. In this way, the knife serves as an anchor that links the two worlds together. Moreover, the fact that the knife symbolizes one thing in the book and something else in the story is typical of Continuity of Parks, which argues that colors, themes, symbols, and characters leap back and forth between our lives and our books, weaving the two together. ENOURMOUS RADIO Plot Jim and Irene Westcott live contentedly on the 12th floor in an apartment building with their two children near Sutton Place (their city of residence is not mentioned, but Sutton Place is in New York City). Both Jim and Irene enjoy music very much, regularly attending concerts and spending a lot of time listening to music on their radio. However, the Westcott's kept their interest in music from their friends. When their old radio breaks down, Jim orders a new one, but when it arrives Irene is shocked at the complete and utter ugliness of the device that Jim has bought. The radio is described as a large gumwood cabinet with numerous dials and switches that light up with a green light when it is plugged in. Until the new radio arrived, the Westcotts hardly ever argued and seemed to have a happy marriage.
One night, as Irene is sitting in the apartment listening to the radio she starts to hear interference in the form of a rustling noise over the music concert that is being broadcast. She tries to get the music back by flipping all of the switches and dials, but then begins to hear the sounds of people from other apartments in the building. She is so surprised by this that she shuts off the radio. Later that evening when Jim arrived home from work, he tried the radio to get some music. Instead of music, Jim hears elevator noises and doorbells.Believing that the electronics in the building are interfering with the signal he decides to turn off the radio and call the people who sold it to him and demand to have the radio repaired. The radio is examined and the problem apparently fixed, but the next day while Irene is listening to a Chopin prelude she hears a man and woman who seem to be arguing. Realizing that the conversation is coming from people who live in a nearby apartment, she flicks a switch, but next hears a woman's voice reading a children's story, which she recognizes as belonging to her neighbor's children's nanny. She flips the switch again, but each time she does so she becomes privy to the events in another apartment. Irene demands that Jim turn off the radio because she is afraid her neighbors will hear her and Jim, just as they can hear the others in the building. Over the next few days Irene listens in on the lives of her neighbors, and finds herself becoming both intrigued and horrified. Irene had become so obsessed with listening in on her neighbors, that she cut a luncheon short with a friend to go home and listen to the radio to hear what news would be revealed next in the lives of friends and neighbors. Jim noticed how strange Irene had become in her ways and conversations, especially at a dinner party the Wescott's attended. On the way home, Irene speaks of the stars like a little candle throwing its beam as to "shine a good deed in a naughty world." Irene became totally involved in the lives on the radio and became depressed herself. She has gone from a pleasant, rather plain woman, to a woman who doubts who she is and doubts her relationship with her husband Jim. Once more, Jim arranges for the radio to be examined and this time the repairs are successful. The repairs are expensive and a great deal more than Jim can afford. All he wanted was for Irene to get some enjoyment from the radio. Instead the radio brought the Westcotts' peaceful life to an end. Not only was the second repair of the radio more than Jim could afford, but he also found unpaid clothing bills on Irene's dressing table. Thus the beginning of the hidden truths coming to the surface; Jim worrying about money issues and Irene worrying about the radio hearing their argument and the past indiscretions of her life. Analysis According to Alan Lloyd Smith, author of American Gothic Fiction - An Introduction ISBN 08264-1595-4, a concept of domestic abjection is one that "disturbs identity, order, and system". This is exactly what the new radio did in the Westcott household. When Mrs. Westcott saw the new radio in the large gumwood cabinet, she did not like the enormousness of it. The Gumwood cabinet is a "dark" cabinet and did not fit in with the living room furnishings and colors that Irene had personally chosen. This cabinet is dark and ugly, bringing darkness into the living room and their lives. Eventually, Irene identifies herself with the object. Another gothic concept of The Enormous Radio is the element of buried secrets. Both Jim and Irene begin to recognize that there is tension in their marriage. Irene had many deep dark secrets that she feels guilty about. She has successfully hidden these secrets all these years until the ugliness of the radio brings up her neighbors problems. Irene has suppressed and hidden her feelings to others and herself for a long time. This is the reason she is drawn to the radio, it exposes the inner life of others and eventually hers. Irene identified with the others in the building as her own problems. It is ironic that the thing purchased to bring joy to the Westcott's life did nothing but cause trouble between them.
Secrets revealed are sometimes not able to be handled well. Alan Lloyd Smith also identifies Domestic Gothic as, [2] intimately bound up with the idea of the house, gender, and family, which becomes through metaphor, a way of externalizing the inner life of fictional characters. Synopsis The protagonist is afflicted with a disease which doctors are unable to cure and sets out on a quest for Zaabalawi, a holy man reputed to possess healing powers. While in this search, the protagonist visits a variety of figures including a religious lawyer, a book seller, a government officer, a calligrapher, and a musician. Not able to find any definite answers as to the whereabouts of Zaabalawi, he begins to doubt his existence. Eventually, however, while in a drunken sleep in a tavern, he dreams that he is in a beautiful garden and experiences a state of harmony and contentment. He awakes to find that Zaabalawi was with him but has now disappeared again. Though upset at having missed him, the protagonist is encouraged by his dream and determined to continue his search for Zaabalawi. Main Issues
Search for spiritual fulfillment in a world of failed traditions and a materialistic age ruled by greed; quest for truth in a changing world of faded superstitions and advancing science and technology.
Concern with social and cultural changes associated with urbanization (the heavily populated city of Cairo) and modernization (business activity, Western influences). Attack on fossilized religious institutions; only certain figures such as artists (the musician, the calligrapher) and the drunk seem to be in contact with the truth symbolized by Zaabalawi.
An allegory hinting at the possible human significance of religion and its supposedly transcendental symbols; an attempt to redefine God in human, social, and earthly terms.
In Mahfouz's vision those who only seek personal gain and profit are distanced from the truth and genuine fulfillment; the happiness of the individual can only come through social engagement and contact with others, the merging of the self into a harmonious human collectivity.
In awarding the Nobel Prize for Literature to Mahfouz, the Swedish Academy of Letters noted that "through works rich in nuance -- now clearsightedly realistic, now evocatively ambiguous -- [Mahfouz] has formed an Arabic narrative art that applies to all mankind."