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Malamud’s monumental work — for which he was awarded the Pulitzer Prize
and National Book Award — is The Fixer. Set in Russia around the turn of the XX
century, it is a thinly veiled look at an actual case of blood libel — the infamous 1913
trial of Mendel Beiliss, a dark, anti-Semitic blotch on modern history. As in many of
his writings, Malamud underscores the suffering of his hero, Yakob Bok, and the
struggle against all odds to endure.
10.2. AFRO-AMERICAN LITERATURE
Toni Morrison (born in 1931), an African-American novelist, was born in
Ohio to a spiritually oriented family. She attended Howard University in Washington,
D.C., and has worked as a senior editor in a major Washington publishing house and
as a distinguished professor at various universities.
Morrison’s richly woven fiction has gained her international acclaim. In
compelling, large-spirited novels, she treats the complex identities of black people in
a universal manner. In her early work The Bluest Eye (1970), a strong-willed young
black girl tells the story of Pecola Breedlove, who is driven mad by an abusive father.
Pecola believes that her dark eyes have magically become blue and that they will
make her lovable. Morrison has said that she was creating her own sense of identity
as a writer through this novel: “I was Pecola, Claudia, everybody”.
Sula (1973) describes the strong friendship of two women. Morrison paints
African-American women as unique, fully individual characters rather than as
stereotypes. Morrison’s Song of Solomon (1977) has won several awards. It follows a
black man, “Milkman Dead” and his complex relations with his family and
community. Beloved (1987) is the wrenching story of a woman who murders her
children rather than allows them to live as slaves. It employs the dreamlike
techniques of magical realism in depicting a mysterious figure, Beloved, who returns
to live with the mother who has slit her throat. Jazz (1992), set in 1920s Harlem, is a
story of love and murder. In 1993, Morrison won the Nobel Prize for Literature.
James Baldwin (1924–1987)
James Baldwin and Ralph Ellison mirror the African-American experience of
the 1950s. Their characters suffer from a lack of identity, rather than from overambition.
Baldwin, the oldest of nine children born to a Harlem, New York, family, was
the foster son of a minister. As a youth, Baldwin occasionally preached in the church.
This experience helped shape the compelling, oral quality of his prose, most clearly
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seen in his excellent essays such as Letter From a Region of My Mind, from the
collection The Fire Next Time (1963).
In this work, he argued movingly for an end to separation between the races.
Baldwin’s first novel, the autobiographical Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953),
is probably his best known. It is the story of a 14-year-old boy who seeks selfknowledge and religious faith as he wrestles with issues of Christian conversion in a
storefront church. Other important Baldwin works include Another Country (1962)
and Nobody Knows My Name (1961), a collection of passionate personal essays about
racism, the role of the artist, and literature.
Ralph Ellison (1914–1994) was a midwesterner, born in Oklahoma, who
studied at Tuskegee Institute in the southern United States. He had one of the
strangest careers in American letters — consisting of one highly acclaimed book and
little more.
The novel is Invisible Man (1952), the story of a black man who lives
a subterranean existence in a cellar brightly illuminated by electricity stolen from a
utility company. The book recounts his grotesque, disenchanting experiences. When
he wins a scholarship to an all-black college, he is humiliated by whites; when he
gets to the college, he witnesses the school’s president spurning black American
concerns. Life is corrupt outside college, too. For example, even religion is no
consolation: A preacher turns out to be a criminal. The novel indicts society for
failing to provide its citizens — black and white — with viable ideals and institutions
for realizing them. It embodies a powerful racial theme because the “invisible man”
is invisible not in himself but because others, blinded by prejudice, cannot see him
for who he is.
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PART XI. EXTRACTS FOR READING,
TRANSLATION AND DISCUSSION
Analyze the given extracts from the point of view of the period when they were
written, the literary movement to which they belong and the authors’ individual
styles. What are the authors’ messages? What techniques do they use to convey their
messages?
11.1. WASHINGTON IRVING.
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW (EXTRACT)
I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel
potentates of the school, who joy in the smart of their subjects; on the contrary, he
administered justice with discrimination rather than severity; taking the burden off
the backs of the weak, and laying it on those of the strong. Your mere puny stripling,
that winced at the least flourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the
claims of justice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some little, tough,
wrong-headed, broadskirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and swelled, and grew dogged
and sullen beneath the birch. All this he called “doing his duty by their parents;” and
he never inflicted a chastisement without following it by the assurance, so
consolatory to the smarting urchin, that “he would remember it, and thank him for it
the longest day he had to live.”
When school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate of the
larger boys; and on holiday afternoons would convoy some of the smaller ones home,
who happened to have pretty sisters, or good housewives for mothers, noted for the
comforts of the cupboard. Indeed, it behooved him to keep on good terms with his
pupils. The revenue arising from his school was small, and would have been scarcely
sufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder, and, though lank,
had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to help out his maintenance, he was,
according to country custom in those parts, boarded and lodged at the houses of the
farmers, whose children he instructed. With these he lived successively a week at a
time; thus going the rounds of the neighborhood, with all his worldly effects tied up
in a cotton handkerchief.
That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic patrons, who
are apt to consider the cost of schooling a grievous burden, and schoolmasters as
mere drones, he had various ways of rendering himself both useful and agreeable. He
assisted the farmers occasionally in the lighter labors of their farms; helped to make
hay; mended the fences; took the horses to water; drove the cows from pasture; and
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cut wood for the winter fire. He laid aside, too, all the dominant dignity and absolute
sway with which he lorded it in his little empire, the school, and became wonderfully
gentle and ingratiating. He found favor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting the
children, particularly the youngest; and like the lion bold, which whilom so
magnanimously the lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a
cradle with his foot for whole hours together. Thus, by divers little make-shifts in that
ingenious way which is commonly denominated “by hook and by crook,” the worthy
pedagogue got on tolerably enough, and was thought, by all who understood nothing
of the labor of headwork, to have a wonderfully easy life of it.
He would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his
works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to
mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that
was — a woman.
Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to
receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the daughter and only
child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump
as a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy cheeked as one of her father’s peaches, and
universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was
withal a little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which was a
mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms.
Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart towards the sex; and it is not to be
wondered at, that so tempting a morsel soon found favor in his eyes; more especially
after he had visited her in her paternal mansion. Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect
picture of a thriving, contented, liberal-hearted farmer. He seldom, it is true, sent
either his eyes or his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within
those every thing was snug, happy and well-conditioned. He was satisfied with his
wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the hearty abundance, rather
than the style in which he lived. [33]
Issues to think over
Note on the use of the archaic style. It is an unusual way of using old or
archaic English words and putting them in an unusual order to create an impression
of antiquity inside a story. “Whilom” means “formerly” or “in the past”. It is an
archaic word. Archaic “doth” means “does”. In The Legend of Sleepy Hollow “the
lion bold” was a reference to the schoolteacher. Lions are sometimes used to portray
an aura of nobility onto a person. They are said to be “kings of the jungle” so applied
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to a person this produces a complementary attitude. One of the English kings was
described as “Richard the Lionheart”. Of course, this is not common everyday
English anymore. So the reference in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is made to the
schoolteacher who is bold to take care and attention of the young child (the lamb). It
may also mean that the lion represents the predator and the lamb the prey.
Rearranging the sentence to put it in its usual order and trimming extra words out, we
arrive at: “The bold lion holds the lamb.”
1. What is the role of archaic words and structures in the passage? Find
examples and comment on the effect produced (irony, elevated style, musicality and
lyricism of the text, etc.).
2. Comment on the cases of irony. Explain the mechanism of irony. Remember
that irony is mockery disguised in eulogy. What kind of picture of the countryside
schoolmaster do we get as a result?
‒ He administered justice with discrimination rather than severity; and he
never inflicted a chastisement without following it by the assurance, so consolatory to
the smarting urchin, that “he would remember it, and thank him for it the longest day
he had to live.”
‒ And on holiday afternoons would convoy some of the smaller ones home,
who happened to have pretty sisters, or good housewives for mothers, noted for the
comforts of the cupboard.
‒ The revenue arising from his school was small, and would have been
scarcely sufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder, and,
though lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda;
‒ He was, according to country custom in those parts, boarded and lodged at
the houses of the farmers, whose children he instructed. With these he lived
successively a week at a time; thus going the rounds of the neighborhood, with all his
worldly effects tied up in a cotton handkerchief.
‒ He found favor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting the children,
particularly the youngest; and like the lion bold, which whilom so magnanimously the
lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle with his foot
for whole hours together.
‒ Thus, by divers little make-shifts in that ingenious way which is commonly
denominated “by hook and by crook,” the worthy pedagogue got on tolerably
enough, and was thought, by all who understood nothing of the labor of headwork, to
have a wonderfully easy life of it.
‒ He would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his
works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to
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mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that
was — a woman.
‒ He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or his thoughts beyond the
boundaries of his own farm; but within those every thing was snug, happy and wellconditioned.
3. Pay attention to binomials used in the passage: sulked and swelled, boarded
and lodged, useful and agreeable. Find more examples, comment on their structural
peculiarities (phonetic form, meaning).
4. Comment on the way Washington Irving describes Katrina Van Tassel.
Which stylistic devices does the author apply to create her portrait? Can we guess the
author’s attitude to her judging by the description?
5. Find cases of alliteration in the passage. What is their function?
6. Comment on the following cases of metaphor:
‒ he had the dilating powers of an anaconda;
‒ his rustic patrons are apt to consider the cost of schooling a grievous
burden, and schoolmasters as mere drones;
‒ like the lion bold;
‒ so tempting a morsel.
7. Pay attention to the cases of antithesis used as a method of arranging the
story: “I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel
potentates of the school, who joy in the smart of their subjects; on the contrary, he
administered justice with discrimination rather than severity.” Find more examples
of that in the passage.
11.2. EDGAR ALLAN POE.
THE TELL-TALE HEART (EXTRACT)
TRUE! — nervous — very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but
why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses — not
destroyed — not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all
things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I
mad? Hearken! And observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole
story.
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived,
it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved
the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I
had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture — a
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pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and
so by degrees — very gradually — I made up my mind to take the life of the old man,
and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were
close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the
opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily. I had my head in, and
was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the
old man sprang up in bed, crying out — “Who's there?”
I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle,
and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed
listening; — just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in
the wall.
Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It
was not a groan of pain or of grief — oh, no! — it was the low stifled sound that
arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound
well. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he
had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been
trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself — “It is
nothing but the wind in the chimney — it is only a mouse crossing the floor,” or “It is
merely a cricket which has made a single chirp.” Yes, he had been trying to comfort
himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain; because
Death, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him, and
enveloped the victim.
When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I
resolved to open a little — a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it —
you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily — until, at length a single dim ray, like
the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.
It was open — wide, wide open — and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw
it with perfect distinctness — all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled
the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or
person: for I had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.
And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over
acuteness of the senses? — now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick
sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too.
It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a
drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern
motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the
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hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and
louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I
say, louder every moment! — do you mark me well? I have told you that I am
nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of
that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for
some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I
thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me — the sound would
be heard by a neighbor! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open
the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once — once only. In an instant
I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to
find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled
sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At
length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse.
Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there
many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me
no more.
If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise
precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked
hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the
arms and the legs.
I then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all
between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no
human eye — not even his — could have detected anything wrong. There was
nothing to wash out — no stain of any kind — no blood-spot whatever. I had been
too wary for that. A tub had caught all — ha! Ha!
When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o’clock — still dark as
midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I
went down to open it with a light heart, — for what had I now to fear? There entered
three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police.
A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night; suspicion of foul play had
been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers)
had been deputed to search the premises.
I smiled, — for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek,
I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country.
I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search — search well. I led them, at
length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the
enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here
to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph,
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placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the
victim.
The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly
at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But,
ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I
fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became
more distinct: — it continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get
rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definiteness — until, at length, I found
that the noise was not within my ears.
No doubt I now grew very pale; — but I talked more fluently, and with
a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased — and what could I do? It was a low,
dull, quick sound — much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton.
I gasped for breath — and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly — more
vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a
high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would
they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury
by the observations of the men — but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! What
could I do? I foamed — I raved — I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been
sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually
increased. It grew louder — louder — louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly,
and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! — no, no! They heard!
— they suspected! — they knew! — they were making a mockery of my horror! —
this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was
more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I
felt that I must scream or die! — and now — again! — hark! Louder! Louder!
Louder! Louder! —
“Villains!” I shrieked, “Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the
planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!” [34]
Issues to think over
1. The term “Gothic” is often used to refer to Poe’s work. The principal aim of
Gothic fiction is to evoke chilling terror by exploiting mystery, cruelty and
nightmarish horrors. The following Gothic elements can be identified in The Tell-
Tale Heart:
a) The setting is limited space within one room, which creates the feeling of
desperation and inevitability of the tragedy.
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b) The main character is mentally unstable.
c) The plot is structured so that dramatic tension is increasing with every line.
2. By his own definition, Poe’s style is based on the choice of “the curt, the
condensed, the pointed”, a style in which every single word counts towards creating
that “certain unique or single effect” around which the tale revolves. In The Tell-Tale
Heart Poe succeeds in eliminating all the superfluous details, i.e. he does not dedicate
his attention to traditional elements of storytelling (setting, physical descriptions, and
characterization). He focuses on his main objective: to explore the mind of a
psychopathic murderer.
3. Although there is no direct reference to the narrator’s state of mind in the
text, numerous clues warn the perceptive reader of the storyteller’s mental instability.
The following elements help the reader realize that the narrator is unreliable:
a) Poe chooses the first person narrative technique to examine the
psychological make-up of the insane narrator; in this way the reader cannot see
events as they actually are, but only as they appear to be to the sick consciousness of
the “I” narrator.
b) There are unbelievable elements in the story: the constantly increasing
sound, which appeared to be the beating the dead man’s heart.
c) The reader is not encouraged to sympathize with the narrator’s views. On the
contrary, the reader is encouraged to question the reliability of the narrator whose
interpretation of the events is clearly wrong. He has committed a horrible murder but
he narrates about it with pride, there is obvious lack of remorse for what he has done.
In the matter of fact tone, he explains to the reader that he proceeded in a logical
manner and therefore should not be considered a madman.
d) Add the elements on your own.
11.3. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
THE SCARLET LETTER (EXTRACT)
“Minister!” whispered little Pearl.
“What wouldst thou say, child?” asked Mr. Dimmesdale.
“Wilt thou stand here with mother and me, to-morrow noontide?” inquired
Pearl.
“Nay; not so, my little Pearl,” answered the minister; for, with the new energy
of the moment, all the dread of public exposure, that had so long been the anguish of
his life, had returned upon him; and he was already trembling at the conjunction in
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