Thursday, January 31, 2008

Tales from the Thousand and One Nights, translated by Edward William Lane


These are stories embedded inside stories, sometimes three times over. And they are all embedded in the original, long story being told by Scheherazade to save her life. Throughout, these are narratives with purpose: they are told to amaze or distract a king or a genie into doling out lenient punishment; they are told to instruct youth in correct behavior or provide a warning to young lovers; they are told to entertain and amuse; and ultimately, they are told to keep Scheherazade alive until her lover relents her vow to kill her.

Overall, the characters in the story are interesting and down-to-earth enough, even when they are kings and princesses, for the reader to care about them. Some of the stories are incredible narratives, many among the best are also famous: Sinbad and the Seven Voyages, Aladin and the Lamp, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. Significant things happen to these characters: they are buried alive, they are disowned, they are denied marriages, they are carried away by enchanted horses to magic kingdoms.

The stories are strongly narrated as sequences of events; it is clear how each event follows from the circumstances of the previous. Rarely does a genie emerge to facilitate the events in a story, though it is always pleasant when one does. Sometimes the actions of the people are fantastic or extreme, but then these are fairy tales and that is expected and enjoyable.

The stories within stories create additional layers of narration that contribute to all the stories being told. The fact that each story is ultimately being told by Scheherazade is easy to forget while reading. These stories are all excellent examples of narration, made even better by the embedded nature of the stories and the fantastic events that happen to the characters in them.

Italian Folktales, by Italo Calvino


These charming stories are excellent examples of narrative. The characters are familiar, everyday people (though sometimes princes and princesses) with whom it is easy to identify. Their experiences are generally terrifying: having eyes gouged out, limbs cut off, dying in several fashions, being turned out of the houses to starve, etc. But, in the end, they are usually restored their previous positions of life and privilege and the stories almost always end happily.

The stories are told in classic story tale style with a strong emphasis on sequence: the princess is born, replaced in the cradle with a dog, mother and child are turned out of the house, years go by, the mistake is discovered, the evil-doer punished, and, in the end, mother, child and king reunited. Each event flows naturally from previous events (though supernatural experiences and reasons abound) and the stories are full of surprises.

Although I was not changed by the stories I read, I found them memorable and very enjoyable. I caught myself looking at real life through the eyes of a fairy tale, making up imaginative explanations for everyday strife and confusion. These stories are narrated well with an ear for the twists, deceptions, evil-doings, and magic that make fairy tales so enjoyable.

Friday, January 11, 2008

The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony, by Roberto Calasso


Calasso’s The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony makes a perfect companion to Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Calasso examines primarily Greek myths deeply looking at their symbolic significance, comparing different versions, and seeking out existential meaning in the lives gods and heroes. His work reads like an extended lecture with stories of myths interspersed throughout. Calasso’s writing is fascinating and very thought provoking, but it is hard to identify a strong narrative structure.

Loosely, the book is arranged by the happenings before and after the marriage between Cadmus and Harmony. Calasso describes the banquet at that marriage as the first and last time gods sat down to dine with mortals. After that meal, gods were involved in our lives in complex ways, causing us a lot of hassle. Differently from Ovid, Calasso puts the focus on gods and goddesses, instead of on humans. It is more difficult to identify with the people in these stories since they are divine. It is also difficult to follow the happenings as a sequence of events; there are so many backstories, and different versions of stories, that the stories appear less as narratives and more as metaphors and symbolic myths.

This is Calasso’s purpose entirely: to bring back these ancient stories as metaphors, full of symbolism and meaning. This work, while being an extremely complex example of narration, is an excellent interpretation and analysis of Greek mythology. Putting the focus on gods, instead of humans, Calasso’s work complements Ovid’s and examines deeply the meaning and significance behind these ancient myths

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Metamorphoses, by Ovid


Angry, vengeful gods. Hapless, tortured humans. Hundreds of stories ranging over thousands of years, from a giant flood which destroyed the world to Caesar’s diefiacation. Ovid’s Metamorphoses certainly covers a lot of territory and a tremenous amount of drama, but is it good narrative?

Recall that Richard Cohen, author of Writer's Mind © 1995, defines a good narrative as containing five elements:
  1. We care about the character.
  2. Something happens to him or her.
  3. The thing that happens is significant; it makes a different in the character’s life.
  4. The thing that happens is not a single event but a sequence.
  5. The sequence is narrated; it is recreated by a writer.
These narrative components should seem expected and there should be surprises. Well, with stories of angry gods turning people into animals or trees, the stories are always surprising! And, because the gods are causing all this, anything is possible, so nothing could be considered unexpected or misplaced. What’s left is whether we care about the characters, whether something significant happens to them that makes a difference in their life, and whether the events take place as a sequence.

Ultimately, the stories in Ovid’s Metamorphoses are about humans living in a hositle, changing, uncertain, unpredictible, confusing world. Certainly we care about what happens to the characters in Ovid’s work, because we care about what happens to us and why. Ovid is deft at describing the reasons behind the gods’ actions, the emotions and interactions that drive them to their acts and he narrates this as a sequence: a human acts, a god gets angry and plans to harm the human, another god or human may intervene to a limited extent, and then the human walks into the trap, helpless, tortured, and forever changed.

Over and over, Ovid expertely narrates stories of why things happen to humans. Some of his stories explain are less familiar to us today, such as the Greek metaphorical origin of islands and animals. Some are very familiar, such as Icarus who flew too close to the sun or Jason who hunted the golden fleece. Throughout, Ovid describes events very vividly and, even, emotionally. In Book 8, he describes first the horrible death Meleager is made to suffer by his goddess mother:
And Meleager,
Far-off, knew nothing of this, but felt his vitals
Burning with fever, tried to conquer the pain,
As a man should, by fortitude, and felt the pain the deepest
In that his death seemed, like a coward's, bloodless,
Caused by no wound…. The fire burns hotter,
The pains more fierce, and then they die and dwindle,
And fire and pain go out, and the spirit with them,
Out to thin air, as the white ashes settle
Over the orange embers.
Immediately following, Ovid offers a very descriptive and intense passage of grief and mourning. Citizens of the city Calydon and family members mourn the death of their hero Meleager, even scooping up the ashes of his body and pressing them to their bodies. Finally, the goddess is satisfied and gives two of Meleager’s sisters release by turning them into birds (one of the many metamorphoses of this work):
         Calydon,
High Calydon, lies low. Young men and old ones,
Leaders and people, mourn, and women tear
Their hair and beat their breasts, and the old father
Groveling on the ground, pours the dust over
His hoary hair, and blames himself for living
So much too long. And Meleager's mother
Deals her last act of vengeance, driving the knife
Through her own heart. No poet has the power
To tell the story truly, those poor sisters
Praying, for what? beating and bruising their breasts,
Beyond all thought of decency, and while the body,
Remains, fondling the body, kissing the body,
Kissing the funeral pyre, and when the body
Is ashes, scooping up the ashes, pressing
The ashes close to their hearts, throwing themselves
Face-down on the mound of the grave, drenching the
gravestone
With tears that flood the letters of his name,
Until Diana, satisfied, made feathers
Spring from their bodies and spread long wings over
Their arms, and gave them horny beaks, and loosed them
Into the air…
In these moving passages, Ovid captures the intensity of mourning, the ravages of death, and the vengeful nature of gods. Ovid writes as carefully throughout, making his narrative a vivid presence in the reader’s mind. His stories are interesting for the starkness of their presentation, the eventful and purposeful narration, and the significance the stories have for all of us living in a changing, dangerous world.