Tag Archives: 1910s

Downton Abbey D&D Alignment Chart

Just saw the last episode of Downton Abbey‘s second series, and it was excellent. If you haven’t seen this great show, it’s about the wealthy owners of an English manor house in the 1910s, as well as the servants who live in the “downstairs” world. If you liked the movie Gosford Park from a few years back, or are a fan of good English drama series like Pride and Prejudice or especially Brideshead Revisited, you owe it to yourself to check this show out. If you’re not into English historical drama, imagine if the attention to story detail and character development you see in something like The Wire was translated to a different time period and you’d be close to what Downton Abbey offers. Anyway, here’s the chart. Notes below may contain SPOILERS, so fair warning. Feel free to bitch about my choices in the comment section.

Downton Abbey Alignment Chart

Notes:

- Bates (LAWFUL GOOD) is a total bro, willing to put everything he cares about at risk for his employer and the woman he loves. He could probably stand to let his boss in on what’s going on sometimes, though, for his own sake.

- While there were many, many, many excellent quotes for Violet, the Dowager Countess of Grantham (CHAOTIC NEUTRALLY played by the inimitable Maggie Smith, whom most of you’ll remember from Harry Potter), there’s relatively few out there for Lady Sybil (CHAOTIC GOOD) and Carson (LAWFUL NEUTRAL). I had to take what I could get, basically.

- Cora, Countess of Grantham being TRUE NEUTRAL might be the most controversial choice on this chart, but her absolute nonchalance with regards to dicking around in Downton heir Matthew Crawley’s love life made me edge her towards the middle. The woman can be very cold when it suits her purposes.

- As for the rest I couldn’t fit on there, most of the staff would probably hover around NEUTRAL GOOD with the obvious exception of O’Brien, who’d sit at NEUTRAL EVIL . Matthew Crawley would probably be LAWFUL GOOD, Lady Mary’d flit daintily between TRUE NEUTRAL and CHAOTIC NEUTRAL, and Anna’d be either NEUTRAL GOOD or CHAOTIC GOOD depending on how badly Bates has fucked himself over lately. It’s hard to pigeonhole some of the more rounded characters, but that is of course where all the entertaining debate on this subject comes from. Leave your diatribes, rants and screeds down in the comment section.

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The Resolution Project Book Eighteen: Call It Sleep (1934)

“The sight of him this evening was terrifying. Never, not even the night he had beaten David, did he radiate, so fell, so electric a fury. It was as though his whole body were smouldering, a stark, throbbing, curdling emanation flowed from him, a dark, corrosive haze that was all the more fearful because David sensed how thin an aura it was of the terrific volcano clamped within.” (p. 127)

The Resolution Project: For my New Year’s resolution this year (that being 2011), I decided to try and read all one hundred of the novels picked by Time Magazine as the best since their inception in 1923 to the list’s publication in 2005. I exempted myself from reading ones I’ve already read, leaving some eighty-six or so to read before the end of this year. Some spoilers may lie ahead, so be warned if you’re the type to be bothered by that.

Call It Sleep cover

David Schearl is a young immigrant boy growing up in the slums of New York City in the 1910s. He’s of Jewish descent and lives with his mother and father in the city’s Lower East Side. His father’s rage gets him bounced from job to job, and David and his mother live in perpetual fear of the next outburst. After a series of events show what 5-year old David is afraid of, namely the cellar in his apartment building and women who aren’t his mother, the precocious boy finds out about his heritage in more ways than one, leading to a shocking conclusion.

This book was very difficult for me to read. It was almost like the parts I didn’t like the most about Infinite Jest (difficult-to-parse regional dialect), An American Tragedy (buckets and buckets of melodrama) and Go Tell It On the Mountain (rampant theological meandering) teamed up to form Voltron; creating a perfect storm of frustratingly slow reading for me. Roth uses some very specific stylistic traits in constructing the slum New York of the book, specifically the fractured English that the kids in the street use. While I’ve encountered books in this project with some difficult language, this one definitely takes the cake.

Voltron

Any excuse, no matter how slim, is enough to show a picture of Voltron.

Here the afterword, while liberally strewn with academese, was very helpful to me. Roth has conversations in the book which take place in Yiddish be written down in gramatically correct English, making it feel easy to the reader, and making us want to read those parts more; the intent here is for the reader to feel as David does, i.e. that the only place worth being is at home with his mother Genya. The afterword also says that the ideal reader of Call It Sleep is someone who is familiar with Jewish culture, Yiddish and theology, which makes me 0 for 3.

While the purpose behind this use of language makes sense to me, it doesn’t make passages like this any easier to plough thorough:

“It c’n catch rats, dot’s wot yuh do wit’ it. See dis little door? De rat gizz in like dot.” … “Foist yuh put sompin’ ove’ hea, and on ‘iz liddle hook. An’ nen nuh rat gizzin. Dey uz zuh big rat inna house, yuh could hear him at night, so my fodder bought dis, an’ my mudder put in schmaltz f’om de meat, and nuh rat comes in, an’ inna mawningk, I look unner by de woshtob, an’ooh – he wuz dere, runnin’ dis way like dot.” (p. 49)

When combined with the fact that most of the people speaking English are little kids, whose grammar isn’t there anyway, this book made for some headaches (especially coming after Infinite Jest, which also had its share of strange grammatical tics, but at least they were spelled correctly). So, yeah, I too longed for David to be at home with his mother. I enjoyed the way Yiddish phrases were dealt out though, they have a great feel to me, but the other half of the book was almost impenetrable at points. Reading Nadsat was easier than reading this book. Also a guy shows up later on who shares this speech pattern, but with the added bonus of a speech impediment on top of it. Great.

This book also comes from the Modernist tradition, occasionally lapsing into stream of consciousness writing to show the interior thoughts of its protagonist. While stream of consciousness is usually okay with me (it’s how I write this blog usually), I found it this time to be a little grating as well. I felt like some of the feelings and thoughts David put forth were way too much for him to have possibly had, especially in the realm of symbolism and metaphor. Maybe he’s supposed to be tapping into the collective unconsciousness somehow, I don’t know. He was a very precocious child. I like the way James Agee dealt with a child’s way of thinking in A Death in the Family a lot better, it felt more like a child’s real voice. It’s been a long time since I was five, though, so perhaps Roth is closer than I feel he was? Who knows.

“Wipe your muddy nose. Hurry, I say! If you could read as easily as your eyes can piss, you were a fine scholar indeed! (p. 216)

Who would I recommend this book to?: People who are very interested in the American immigrant experience near the turn of the last century, who have a high tolerance for having to stop and sound out words every five minutes. People who enjoyed Go Tell It On The Mountain, and would like to read a similar story, this time set in the backdrop of the Jewish faith.

Total pages read since January 1st: 11125 pp.

Total books on the Time 100 list read since January 1st (not including ones read before 2011): 27

Next up on the Resolution Project: The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck (1939)

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The Resolution Project Book Twenty-Eight: A Death in the Family (1958)

“Look at me, Poll,” he said. She looked at him. “That’s when you’re going to need every ounce of common sense you’ve got,” he said. “Just spunk won’t be enough; you’ve got to have gumption. You’ve got to bear in mind that nobody that ever lived is specially privileged; the axe can fall at any moment, on any neck, without any warning or regard for justice. You’ve got to keep your mind off pitying your rotten luck and setting up any kind of a howl about it. You’ve got to remember that things as bad as this and a hell of a lot worse have happened to millions of people before and that they’ve come through it and you will too. You’ll bear it because there isn’t any choice – except to go to pieces.” (p. 141)

The Resolution Project: For my New Year’s resolution this year (that being 2011), I decided to try and read all one hundred of the novels picked by Time Magazine as the best since their inception in 1923 to the list’s publication in 2005. I exempted myself from reading ones I’ve already read, leaving some eighty-six or so to read before the end of this year. Some spoilers may lie ahead, so be warned.

A Death in the Family cover

Family man Jay Follet is called to his father’s bedside in the dead of night in the summer of 1915. Fearing the worst from his ailing father, Jay speeds through Tennessee backroads only to find a false alarm waiting for him at his childhood home. On his way back to Knoxville, however, his car malfunctions while on bad terrain and Jay is killed instantly by hitting his chin on the steering wheel. A Death in the Family, then, is about how his family deals with the grief of his loss. The narrative floats between his now widowed wife, his atheist brother-in-law and his eager-to-please son Rufus, as they come to terms with Jay’s death over the two or three days following the accident.

The thing I liked best about this book, in addition to how real it felt (author James Agee lost his father to an accident when he was six, some have called this novel autobiographical), was how good a job it did at putting you into the mindset of a child. There are flashback sequences from young Rufus’ point of view scattered throughout the book, delineated from the rest by way of being italicized. In these parts, Agee deftly captures the feeling of being a small child, a precocious child who only half gets things that he is told and ends up extrapolating meaning for words like “instantly killed,” “drunk,” and an “eightfoot embankment.” Rufus is an excellent reader surrogate as, through a child’s eyes, we have to look again at the world to see what is trying to be imparted to the boy. It’s also helpful given the time period the novel is set in, 1915, to have an inquisitive mind that wouldn’t take for granted some of the social mores and taboos of the era, allowing us to experience a way of life that has since moved on.

Agee is also blisteringly critical of organized religion and its role in helping grieving families. Most of this work is done through the character of Andrew, who is what we’d call either an atheist or more likely an agnostic, and for this reason is set apart from Jay’s wife Mary and her aunt Hannah, who are very devout. He warns her that if she starts falling down the hole of religious fanaticism after her husband’s death, it’s not likely that she’ll ever make it out again. Christianity is also demonized in the form of Father Jackson, who comes to officiate the funeral. Rufus and his little sister Catherine never really hear what the priest tells Mary and Hannah upstairs; they instead intimate through everyone’s tone of voice that she is subsuming her grief into devotion, rather than having it out in the world to be dealt with:

“And they felt that although everything was better for their mother than it had been a few minutes before, it was far worse in one way. For before, she had at least been questioning, however gently. But now she was wholly defeated and entranced, and the transition to prayer was the moment and mark of her surrender.” (p.272)

A lot of people seem to use their devotion like that, like a crutch that explains every single thing that happens. It’s defeatist. But enough about that. A Death in the Family is by no means a fun novel, but it is a very interesting one. Agee pours his real-life grief into the story, and it feels palpably real as a result. Definitely a must for someone who wants to understand how death changes people.

“That’s what they’re for, epitaphs, Joel suddenly realized. So you can feel you’ve got some control over the death, you own it, you choose a name for it. The same with wanting to know all you can about how it happened.” (p.158)

The List:

1. The Adventures of Augie March

2. All the King’s Men

3. American Pastoral

4. An American Tragedy

5. Animal Farm (read before 2011)

6. Appointment in Samarra

7. Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret

8. The Assistant

9. At Swim-Two-Birds

10. Atonement (read before 2011)

11. Beloved

12. The Berlin Stories

13. The Big Sleep (read before 2011)

14. The Blind Assassin

15. Blood Meridian

16. Brideshead Revisited

17. The Bridge of San Luis Rey

18. Call It Sleep

19. Catch-22 (read before 2011)

20. The Catcher in the Rye (read before 2011)

21. A Clockwork Orange

22. The Confessions of Nat Turner

23. The Corrections

24. The Crying of Lot 49 (read before 2011)

25. A Dance to the Music of Time (1st Movement)

26. The Day of the Locust

27. Death Comes for the Archbishop

28. A Death in the Family

Total pages read since January 1st: 6798 pp.

Next up on the Resolution Project: James Dickey’s Deliverance (1970)

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