American Literature #6/ Big-Two Hearted River/ Paradise Regained

Paradise Regained

1. Laying foundation

“Life swings back and forth from pain to boredom, like a pendulum.” It seems that extremely few of us have consistently fulfilled happy lives. Most of us are temporarily delighted and brought down right after. Why should we be pained throughout our lifetime? I dare claim to say that this phenomenon all comes from “lack of a”. “a” is a variable, a vessel that can contain possibly anything desirable. The deadly property of this variable is that it does not exist, and that it is constantly changing. Anything and everything can come in and out into the place of the variable. This empty signifier always survives, pushing the signified further, further, and even further. It is otherwise named as objet petit a.

Then why do we experience this inanity? In order for something to be deprived of another, there must be a concept of an ideal whole, a perfect integrity that we imagine. Such ideal form is what makes us stubbornly and thirstily gaze at the status quo. However, this observation seems to go directly against the previous premise that we have never been fully content throughout our lifetime. How can we imagine a perfect state when we haven’t seen any? There at should be at least a past reminisce.

However, the fact that we depend on language solves this contradiction. When we think that we lack of something, it is never a specific object. Rather, it is more of a concept, and most precisely, a word or the name of the object. Naming simplifies the signified being and pushes it to be restricted into the sphere of meaning. The object is neither identical with what we think as, nor is it stagnated as we think. In conclusion, the concept of object never exists in real life. This is precisely why the variable “a” can constantly change its form. It was never there in the first place. The problem lies in the fact that we think with language, we crave for a concept based on the traces of the object’s characteristics, not the object itself. We are never able to be fulfilled, for what we want does not exist. Thus, language makes us lose something that we haven’t had in the first place. I would identify this as the origin of our everyday life’s pain.

There can be a rebuttal on how absence draws upon more deference on human nature. Then let us consider a simple question: when do you think more about your girlfriend, when she’s with you or when she’s not? Rousseau seems to agree in answering as “when she is not”. In Confessions, he describes his craving towards Madame de Warens when he is alone in her bed. He looks at her belongings, which are merely traces of her existences. The traces promise her existence, but of course, she does not appear in middle of her belongings.  Nevertheless, this is nothing more than masturbation. Rousseau himself regrets this experience, and calls this corruption by outside influences.

This regretful experience is an apt metaphor regarding the function of language upon us mentioned beforehand. Although we know that being fetish on a girl’s belonging won’t bring our crushes’ affection, we do it anyway. When people cannot get a perfect satisfaction of what they want, they supplement it. And we usually know that is not a healthy way to fulfill ourselves. This is same with language. Many of us know that words we use are not precise representations of what we mean (they are representations, even at its best), but still use them for some satisfaction. My analysis starts from the premise that usage of language is also corruption by outside influences upon us.

2. Literary analysis

Until now, the common analysis of Ernest Hemingway’s “Big Two-hearted Rivers” was that it was about a soldier’s return and rehabilitation from the World War I. The nature provides relief and an escapade from the catastrophic outcomes of human disaster.

However, in this essay, I would like to interpret this story in a broader perspective than the standard analysis. However, it will not be an overly deviant one, for the new interpretation would be a broadening from the status quo perspective of viewing the nature as a shelter against the catastrophic human world, but as a world without others, therefore not with language.

The story at its earliest part begins with several questionable sentences. Among them is: “There was no town, nothing but the rails and the burnt over country.” Instead of describing what is existent in the story, it begins with a sudden reminder of absence. Not a simple object, but a whole town burnt down. Nevertheless, the train goes on even when “[t]here was no town, nothing but the rails and the burnt over country.” No one knows where the train was headed, but that it was just running on the tracks. A point that we should focus our interest on is that the protagonist gets off this train.

In the desert of existence, the protagonist is only able to find traces of the town. But instead of trying to rebuilding it, he sets off towards the nature. Even if he tried to do such, he would only be able to make a supplement of his hometown, never its original, unsatisfying replica of what he would have reminisced over. When he “had left everything behind,” he had abandoned will to reconstruct. He enters into “islands of dark pine trees”, where the “burned country stopped off.” This indicates that he is going into an uncivilized place in contrast with the country.

It is crucial to identify what the protagonist abandoned when “he had left everything behind,” for this shows what he wanted to turn away from. Among “everything”, only two are mentioned by the protagonist: “the need for thinking” and “the need to write”. Why would it be necessary for the protagonist to leave “the need to write” behind? What does that have to do with burnt town or the devastated country?

As mentioned, the burnt town is a trace of a hometown, but it is also the tomb of hometown at the same time. It functions as a reminder of how the reconstructed town will always be different from what was there before. In a Nietzschean expression, it is just like the church, as it celebrates the destruction of an ideal and at the same time prevents it from being reborn. This further reminds the traits of written language, hence Hemingway’s expression: “the need to write”. Language is also a trace of a concept and at the same time prevents it from being in an integral, complete form.

So, our protagonist has left the burnt town, from language, and therefore from the objet petit a. It is important that we remember that the endless delay of satisfaction originates from the absence of existence that language creates. He has departed from his former dwelling, but has returned to the nostalgic primitive state where there is no society or language.

There is an extremely strong allusion that we sense from this return. We have been ridden out of an ideal world where there is no dissatisfaction, and strives to go back, thus paradise lost and regained. The protagonist’s journey more resembles that of paradise regained, in regard the fact that he left the burnt town.

Along with the linguistic allusion, this resemblance of Paradise Regained explains the significant silence throughout the short story. The protagonist speaks three times throughout the story: “Go on Hopper,” “I’ve got a right to eat this kind of stuff if I’m willing to carry it,” “Christ, Jesus Christ,” Among these monologues, the first one does not have any further description of emotion, while the second one “sounded strange”, and made him “not speak again”. The third one makes the protagonist say happily, unlike the previous two.

The protagonist had abandoned language, and that would be the reason why the second monologue “I’ve got a right to eat this kind of stuff if I’m willing to carry it,” “sounds strange”. There is no societal fight over the ownership of the food. Not only that, the uncomfortable presence of language is revealed. However, it is intriguing that the monologue of “Christ, Jesus Christ,” is said “happily”. If there is an allusion to Paradise Regained, and that the paradise is a place where there is no futile desire from the existence of language, this can be easily explained.

Until now, we were able to recognize the metaphor that the pine plain was referring to. It would be a paradise where there is no language, therefore no room for any dissatisfaction. In order to make the analysis more complete, there must be a proof that there actually is no dissatisfaction.

Nick missed a big trout. This is the first time when he meets a failure within the pine plain. Surprisingly, he does not go wild with this trout; he is satisfied with “one good trout”. He insists that he would be able to pick “the very biggest ones” on the Black River. However, he states that doing such would make him wallow against a very strong current. He does not want to be in danger, and he feels that one trout is good enough. This is the proof that the protagonist has regained his paradise. In the paradise where there is no objet petit a, things don’t always go all. No one would be able to catch 50 big trout at a time. But nevertheless, a man might be just as content as catching much. There is satisfaction with what happens.

A further proof for this is the mention of the “Black River”. In the dangerous Black River, there are big trout. Also, it is a place where “the telegram” came to the protagonist’s friend Nick. Nick goes “away when the telegram came.” Nick is never to be seen again. The fact that the Black River is a dangerous place, and that “the telegram” is a written language, it is a further support that the regained Paradise is a place with no language and no pain. 


Comments
Rhee Jiyoon: I always love your ideas! I remember you saying that voting for a person you don't like to be elected would raise voting rates. Your ideas are new, but I like them more because I know it comes from your ceaseless thinkings.  However, I don't get how "written language" and "spoken language" are different. I think you will need more explanation to make your thesis stronger.