Friday, February 7, 2014

Misery and Art

In this post I want to touch on the fact that many characters are trapped in their own world of problems that are solved through the course of the book, and what art means to the roles of Tateh and Houdini in the novel.

Many characters start off with a whole lot of pressure and misery in Ragtime. As their narratives unfold we see a common predicament that persists in their lives, and it is cured in some way or another by the end of the novel. Mother has her problems with Father who is constantly unaware and parochial, but he is replaced by Tateh in the end. Coalhouse Walker struggles inside his world of wanted perfection regarding the state of his car and how that is significant to him, and although he ends up dead, he momentarily had his moment of relief when Conklin restored the car. There are more examples of these overarching tensions that exists in almost all the characters, and two characters that many draw parallels between and have this trait of tension are Tateh and Houdini. Tateh’s world starts off extremely glum as he has little to support his daughter with after his wife left them. But he ends up being the one of the happiest characters in the end due to a line of events related to his art work. Houdini also faces trouble when his mom passes away, and his dark emotional states pull him out of reality. Compared to Tateh, he does not end up as happy/self content as a result of his work, but rather uses it as a way to escape the plain sadness in his life (and the act itself is to perform various forms of escape).

The fact that these two characters share the common ground of being artists carries different meanings for each of them. Doctorow does not treat Houdini with that much respect in general, which can be seen in the way he surrounds Houdini with the characters and events that he does. In other words, in addition to his problem that his mother passed away, he is definitely often mocked. From the circus performers to the Archduke that didn’t know who he was, Doctorow doesn’t really allow the reader to take Houdini seriously, there might even bit an aspect for sympathy when reading his plot. Tateh’s life is much different in his relation to art. It is similar in the respect that it is very personal to him, but it differs in that he actually clearly achieves what he wants from it. In the end he is able to provide for his daughter from the job he receives due to his motion pictures, and it is this change in his life that ultimately lead him to Mother, which seems to seal the happiness in their lives. Furthermore, I do want to lend the suggestion that Doctorow could be also hinting at and symbolizing the rise and influence of technology, and how it is beginning to surpass all else. It is Tateh’s motion pictures that get him his recognition and success, whereas Houdini’s obscure act is never fully appreciated by all.


Thursday, February 6, 2014

Do I like Doctorow’s J. P. Morgan?

My initial reactions to J. P. Morgan the way Doctorow depicts him were positive, I saw him as a little strange and over the top due to his wealth, but I felt sympathy for him. Then looking back I realized there was a lot going against him in the descriptions of him and his life, but ultimately I felt he deserves a little understanding.

Morgan’s wealth was unparalleled, therefore his influence was as well. He even financially saved the federal government in their times of trouble (another U.S. History class connection) making him the one in control. In fact, his situation was so unlike that of any other person that he was apparently lonely. Lonely all by himself on top of the world, and there is the one moment in the novel where he expresses this fact to a gull perched nearby him. I am aware that many people read this scene as ironic and even laughable, but I think it is a moment that shows his real isolation. It brings out his human qualities and shows some signs of his feelings. His role in the book doesn’t end here though, as he also has an absurd obsession with Egypt and Egyptian artifacts. This study of his gives his own personality a further twist, and at the end of chapter 19 Doctorow delivers a surprising last sentence to close (as he often does to end chapters). Morgan thinks that Ford resembles the great Seti I, the father of Ramses.

Ford and Morgan have an interesting interaction that is the basis for my open eyes to Morgan’s state. When he invited Ford to join him for lunch he was expecting someone that would end his loneliness. Contrary to his hopes, Ford turns out to be a thorough disappointment. Even before their meeting Doctorow places a bad image on Ford. While he is respectable in the sense that he is efficient, respectable, and clean cut in his work, there is also the side to him that is simplistic, unaware, and unintelligent. Doctorow actually pulls in his 1970s perspective on the emerging energy crisis into the novel that reveals his distaste towards Ford’s mass production system. And concluding Ford’s involvement in the novel is the lunch meeting itself. Morgan had many guests before, and they were all apparently terribly uninteresting (hence his isolation in the world). Andrew Carnegie is brought up, for instance, as a guest who “dozed over his brandy.” But even though Ford surpasses these other famous (but unimpressive) figures, he takes on a new level of failure in Morgan’s eyes. I think this is why my first impression of Morgan was understanding, because I felt sorry for him. As the conversation between the two figures went along I could see Morgan’s hope being torn apart.

Many people in 4th hour seemed to come to the conclusion that Morgan is a power hungry jerk, but I don’t think I can totally agree with those ideas. Yes, he has an abundance of wealth and he did steal a super-duper valuable sarcophagus, but he does have some traits that call for the reader to feel sympathy for him. His interactions with Ford bring out the most of these, and in the end, I feel that he is not so bad after all.


Saturday, February 1, 2014

History versus Fiction in Ragtime

To open the semester, the intent of our first notebook prompt was to explore the distinction between history and fiction, and how one views each as a consumer. The ideas within my response from then have remained the same until now, in that there is a degree of discernment required when reading history that is nonexistent in fiction, which can just be taken for what it is. History consists of seemingly true facts and events that (from an educational point of view) undeniably happened. However, no two historical texts are the same. Based on the political, cultural, religious, or some such predisposition of the author, the account has the potential to be biased. To add on that, people have the right to question history as a whole since we can never know what really happened. Fiction, though often plausible, is imaginative from the start so there may be a level of curiosity, but never outright questioning.

After reading Ragtime, I can now reflect on the fine lines between history and fiction in the novel. Doctorow most definitely incorporates both, and often at the same time. He mixes the two so much that  a question comes to mind while contemplating this occurrence throughout the book: Does is matter whether or not we know what is fact or fiction (what sort of reactions does it create)? This is a question that stems from the very first prompt and is specific to the novel. To a certain extent, yes, it does matter. There is a natural mindset assigned when reading history and fiction, and they differ. There is simply no way around it. However, the primary layer of importance should be the symbolism and overarching themes of the time, so overall the distinction between history and fiction should not matter. In other words, the lens through which we see the text may alter slightly, but that should not distort the content and intents of the author. The novel is so rich in terms of symbols through various characters as well as generalizations/indications of the early 20th century, particularly those of race and class. When Evelyn Nesbit and Emma Goldman have their moments together, the world of fiction is entered. Using the two entirely real people, Doctorow sets up fictional dialogue to delve into topics such as Nesbit’s beauty in relation to capitalism, and the narrator refers to her as a “sex goddess.” Symbolism and a stage to represent the feel of the times is set up in this way. Another instance where highlights were made of a real person’s life actions was the conversation between Booker T. Washington and Coalhouse Walker towards the end of the book. While the meeting between Goldman and Nesbit has an extremely slim chance of ever happening, the example of Washington is one that could not have occurred for certain. In real life, Washington had the goals of educated the freed black man, and working to set a good reputation for black people In general. By founding the Tuskegee Institute, he set up a system for them to earn respectable jobs. In Ragtime, Washington stresses the importance of image/appearance to Coalhouse, and how he needs to stop ruining it for black people.  He expresses that the actions of Coalhouse are those that have the potential to wipe out all of his life’s work.  The scene with Washington is one that has symbolism that uses but is not part of history.


So my “final answer” to my own question would be no, it does not matter so much. Doctorow has a way of stating everything in style so matter-of-fact that it blends history and fiction together even more, in addition to the jumping around from story to story (except for the end) that takes the focus slightly away from the plot. While it is easy enough to pick out what is fact and fiction throughout the book, it is not of necessarily high importance as the consistently straightforward tone of the narrator suggests. What matters more is the connections, references, themes, and symbols that present themselves through the characters, whether real or fictional.