Hanif Kureishi’s short story “My Son the Fanatic” is frightening. It is frightening because of its realism. Religious fanaticism exists all over the globe. From racist, Christian affiliated hate groups to radical Muslims, religious cults definitely have their place in our modern society. As an agnostic, I’m not a fan of organized religion – I don’t mind religion itself, but when it’s organized, sometimes it can go a little sideways. Good and moral Christians and Muslims are intelligent enough to mix modern ethics with their religious ethics. But, the fanatics of such religions only follow the ethics of their ancient texts – and this can lead to very, very, bad things. “My Son the Fanatic” is the story of an extreme form of religion taking hold of a young man and completely transforming him into a monster. This person (Ali) is not a person anymore – he’s a walking, talking Qur’an. He has been so indoctrinated, that the love and care he used to have for his parents and friends has been completely eviscerated. While reading, my main question was: How did they not notice their son’s transformation? How did his parents miss the signs? There were definite, concrete signs that he was evolving. Such as: Ali growing a beard (often adopted by males within the Muslim faith) and his apparent disregard for all of his previous desires and interests – such as his material belongings and education. These are significant personal changes, so why did his parents not recognize this metamorphism for what it was? Given his parent’s upbringing, surely they’re familiar with Islam? Then, as I kept reading, I thought that perhaps their disregard for this truth was intentional. Clearly, neither of Ali’s parents appreciated Islam, as evidenced in their words and stories, “Many young people fall into cults and superstitious groups” (Kureishi 1207) and “The Maulvis had attached a piece of string to the ceiling and tied it to Parvez’s hair… After this indignity Parvez had avoided all religions…They made jokes about the local mullahs” (Kureishi 1204). Given the opposing views of both parties (Ali and his parents), one can see why and how the purposeful ignorance displayed by Parvez and his wife came to be. I think of “My Son the Fanatic” as a warning. A warning to watch your children, and to question them when they display suspicious behavior. But, despite Kureishi’s story being a warning, it is also a lesson. A lesson of how quickly indoctrination occurs, and how young people are easy prey for such religious cults.
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I have previously studied Seamus Heaney’s “Punishment,” and it’s just as riveting now as it was then. I have a passionate love for poetry that focuses on historical events – they are always fascinating, and something that I am drawn to time and again. In the 20th c. Seamus Heaney wrote a series of poems that focused on “bog bodies.” In these poems, he concentrated on the juxtaposition of their murder and morbid beauty, “He probes the vexed relations between lyric song and historical suffering, ‘beauty and atrocity’” (1094). Heaney’s bog poetry represents a facet of poetry not often deeply explored: human suffering and poetic beauty. To read more about the fascinating subject of bog bodies, visit: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/europe-bog-bodies-reveal-secrets-180962770/ In “Punishment” Heaney chooses to focus on a female victim of Iron Age ritualistic sacrifice. This poem is quite morbid, and explores the victim’s physical appearance as well as speculating about her life story, and the betrayal that led to her death. In his speculation, he inserts himself into her story, which serves to make the victim more human – her story more tragic, “I almost love you but would have cast, I know, the stones of silence…I who have stood dumb” (lines 29-31, 37). Modern readers may say, “Yes, I would try to prevent this” or “Yes, I would help her” but, would you? Complacency is a deeply complicated human issue, and further exploration shows that all humans may be subject to it. Perhaps an even more important question to ask is: What happens when murder becomes culture – and what does sanctioned murder say about the human condition? To read more about the history of human sacrifice, visit: https://www.oxfordhandbooks.com/view/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199759996.001.0001/oxfordhb-9780199759996-e-11 Seamus Heaney’s poem is ultimately about the barbarism of earlier cultures, and the pain that one feels when reflecting on such morbid history. But, reflection can lead to positive thoughts. The practice of human sacrifice reminds us that we have come so far in terms of decency, and the way in which humans treat other humans. History can be a fantastic teacher, and Heaney’s “Punishment” is a fantastic lesson. What made me most excited to read “Heart of Darkness” was its themes of travel and adventure. When concluding the excerpt on Joseph Conrad (67), I thought that him and I were very much alike. Like Conrad, I too love to travel, and I deeply want and crave adventure. But unlike Conrad, who travelled to Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean Islands, I have only ever travelled to France – but even just that small taste of European adventure made me instantly want to travel more. So, in this way I think that I can understand Mr. Conrad. Perhaps our souls are similar – but of course I only speak one language. An element of adventure in any story tends to make it more riveting and exciting. I of course am biased, but literature in which there is no adventure, or the characters only stay in one setting, tend to get a bit boring. The theme of adventure in Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” is further accented in his beautiful, detailed descriptions that came from his extraordinary mind. This, of course, is simply my opinion, but while reading I often thought that his descriptions were perhaps the most beautiful that I had ever read. Descriptions such as, “In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand still in red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished spirits” (74). As you can see – immaculate writing. While reading Conrad’s work, you can almost feel the wind on your face, hear the ocean, and feel the rocking of the ship – and those, ultimately, are the sensations Conrad evokes with his writing. His writing is so descriptive and imaginative, that he transports you from your boring couch to a beautiful Caribbean Island. Honestly, prior to reading Penelope’s excerpt from “Ulysses,” I knew next to nothing about this historic piece of literature. Of course, I had previously heard of Ulysses, but had never encountered the novel or read it. But, even just reading this small passage, I am delighted with what I read. What I really loved while reading Penelope’s “episode” was the frankness and humor that flowed from the unending thoughts that were flying around in her head. I mean really, this character is just simply hilarious. Contained in her thoughts are so many delightful insults and musings, that I found myself laughing out loud throughout, which is a very rare reaction. Spoken word humor is easy – written humor, not so much. I feel as though Joyce’s Penelope is very personable and likeable. Her humor is contagious, and ultimately some of the best parts of her “episode.” Some humorous lines include, but are not limited to: “The ignoramus doesn’t know poetry from a cabbage” (604) and “My aunt Mary’s hairy etcetera” (605) and “We are a dreadful lot of bitches” (606). As a reader, one wonders if her husband would be appalled by her thinking – especially the hilarious sexual commentary. Another aspect I loved about “Ulysses” is its ties to Homer’s “Odyssey,” which is a novel I’ve previously read. As a previous Classics major, ancient Greek history is an extremely riveting topic, so the correlation to Homer’s work was another positive aspect of Joyce’s novel. Perhaps the long-awaited return of Odysseus to his wife Penelope in the “Odyssey” was much more passionate than Joyce’s work, but both stories are equally brilliant. The “returning husband” seems to be a reoccurring theme in non-contemporary works of literature, and as such ancient works like Homer’s “Odyssey” are very relevant to later works, such as Joyce’s “Ulysses.” But, what I appreciated about Joyce’s work in particular was the different perspective of his Penelope, a Penelope that possessed humor and wit – unlike her ancient counterpart. |
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