Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

It has become clear throughout all of our Grail Quests that the Grail is unattainable. I found it particularly interesting that Indiana- the "superhero" or "action figure" who always wins (or, really, takes the treasure) in the end- actually does not get the Grail in the end. I think it is an indication that no person can have it- not even Indy! (And it's Indy's job.) While the Grail is often viewed as a representation of religion or an understanding and appreciation for the maternal, I feel that all of our quests so far have had included an even deeper meaning behind the Grail: the maturing of the main character. In all three of our quests, the main character has been immature, brash, and naive in regards to appreciation of the feminine. Indiana is impulsive and often acts like a teenager, especially with the woman with whom he sleeps and then falls into the trap of. He does not appreciate his family- much like our other two 'knights'- and, likely because he seems to have no living mother figure in his life, must come to acknowledge his father. He also embarks on an "impossible" journey. This journey, though- through all three of the quests- is actually seeking to end the human habit of ignorance and immaturity. Indeed, all three of our 'knights' set on "pointless" journeys- though here, the journey is the most important part. The real point is not for them to eventually possess the Grail, but that they grow into a better human being while on the journey. Being able to let go of the Grail is the ultimate test of the quest- the ability to let something go when they know they should. Persse had to learn to let go of his infatuation with Angelica's image, and to become an adult who acted responsibly rather than impetuously. In Indiana's case, he came extremely close to getting the Grail- but his father knew that Indiana had to act like an adult, be smart (and stop endangering his life), and let it go. In letting the Grail go, Indiana is actually attaining it after all: he has matured into a true man, a worthy 'knight'- which was the point all along. He- and the other knights- have to recognize that there is more beyond the dangerous quest, and that one should work to live a life that is good and charitable, rather than one that is focused on attaining immortality.

Small World, part four

1. How do you feel about the end to Persse's story? Was there a resolution? Did he make the right decisions?

Wow. This character's ending was nearly infuriating. While most of the other characters make some sort of movement or transition at the end of their stories (such as Zapp and Kingfisher), Persse seems to not learn anything; in fact, it seems as though he takes a step backwards. After spending all of his time and money on his quest in following Angelica (and listening to others when they tell him to continue in a display of his own naivety), he finally finds out that she never wanted him after all. Angelica, the woman he told himself he deeply loved, is even cruel in her "gentle" way of letting him down: knowing that he has been chasing her across the world, she allows him to run longer instead of ever sending him (so perhaps his university) a message telling him to stop; she has already involved herself with another man and is engaged; and she sends her twin, of all people, to break the news. Angelica has burnt Persse bad; and yet at the end, he decides to hopelessly chase yet another woman. (She even states outright to him his ridiculous views of love: "Persse, I'm trying to tell you that you're not really in love with Angelica...you were in love with a dream" 326; even this does not seems to affect him.) Persse essentially has the immature romanticism of a teenager, but with the passport and budget of an adult: he believes each chase to be after the woman he truly adores and needs; and he relies on Cheryl as his "back-up plan" after having lost Angelica. He has proved that he's learned nothing at the ending; apparently his disillusionments about Angelica would never repeat themselves with another woman. Furthermore, he is now pursuing a woman he knows even less; he has barely spoken to Cheryl at all, and seems to convince himself of his liking for her. I think Persse should just act as he really feels: he should admit to loving being a lost foreigner, get a Visa, and pitch a show to the Travel channel. I had so much hope in Persse, but Lodge once again proves himself a superior writer in his choice to display the character as, unfortunately, a real person would act.

Small World, part three

1. This section covers a plot arc in which Philip meets Joy and they reassume their relationship; but shortly after he decides not to break ties with his wife. Is he making the right decision by staying with Hilary? What do you think will happen to his character and his relationships?

To be honest, when I wrote this question, I had solidified an answer, and by the time I got down to this part of the typing, I have begun to doubt myself. I am truly confused as to what the right decision for Philip is. He is caught in a very difficult situation, but it is notably all his fault. If he had separated from Hilary long ago, when he began to feel as though the marriage was over, he may have saved himself, and Hilary, much trouble and pain. "We nearly separated ten years ago. I think we should have done," Philip states (221) to Joy while on the train; and he makes another point for their divorce: "I've stood in Hilary's way. She'd do better on her own" (221). Though this may be another of his excuses to forget her, it is true that their marriage is probably holding both of them back. Furthermore, my personal beliefs influence my statement that they should just get separated. I believe that couples should separate if they truly believe they might have to, most particularly for their children's sake, but also for their own mental health. On the other hand, there appears to be a rekindled flame after Philip kissed Hilary in the taxi. This leads to a confounding conflict: who does he stay with? At the end of the chapter, it seems as though he spares Hilary the bad news out of cowardice to let her down; but it seems to me as though he is hopeful that they will repair their relationship. Though he believes that he loves Joy (which he states quite rashly to someone with whom he has only spent one night), it is probably the equivalent of Calisto's love for Melibea in The Celestina: he lusts after her, but does not truly know her well enough to love her. Philip probably feels a responsibility in taking care of his child, but he is turning it into an idealized life with a person he barely knows. Hilary is a person whom he truly fell in love with; he had new experiences with her, lived with her for many years, and once felt a passion that may now be returning. I'm not sure what to do, but I'm sure Philip will figure something out (though it is guaranteed that someone will be hurt in the end).

2. What are your thoughts on Persse's journey so far? Will he reach his goal? Has he changed at all?

In my opinion, Persse is mirroring his model character (Perceval), by entertaining a pretty impossible task. To locate a person somewhere in the world without any solid information proves to be much more difficult than he thought. (Of course, he set off with the naive hope that he could find her or her family within a whole country). It seems as though Persse's obstacle in completing his journey is the same as Perceval's: himself. Persse becomes overconfident and overwhelmed by his romanticism, forgetting the logical point of view, and instead brashly setting on a quest with little information to work on. He is still naive, without changing at all as a character (much like Perceval). For whatever reason, he acts betrayed by Angelica's (seeming) actions to lead a life as a stripper/some sort of performer; he then proceeds to judge her, and seems to think that because of this profession, he cannot be with her. (As Zapp points out, a man might marry a woman of such a profession because "perhaps he wouldn't know" (201)...thus, Persse's quest for a perfectly innocent woman is likely in vain. He will probably need to compromise a partner's past at some point, but does not seem to realize this.) Persse is still a static character, still allowing his emotions and romantic fantasies to get the best of him; but hopefully, he will change soon, and find his Angelica in another quest.

Small World, Part 2

1. In this section of the text, Arthur Kingfisher (Lodge's rendition of the Fisher King) is introduced. How is he different or similar to Chretien's rendition? How does the character's presentation differ?

Chretien's description of the Fisher King is "a handsome nobleman with greying hair seated upon a bed" (Chretien, 419); he is sure to imply an older but wise and poised gentleman. Conversely, Lodge presents Arthur in his signature form- facing the flaws upfront and unabashedly. He is first found lying spread-eagle and naked on his bed (a notably much less dignified position to be in). His body is imperfect and aged, but handsome nonetheless. He is being attended to by an Asian woman, and it is noted that he is impotent (Lodge, 93). While the Fisher King's introduction is enigmatic but stately, Arthur's introduction is confusing and slightly graphic. The Fisher King's handicap is accepted and almost respected by Perceval (and the wound was acquired in battle (Chretien, 424)), while the reader may feel slightly taken aback or bothered by Arthur's impotence. (Though it can be inferred by the reader that the Fisher King's wound represents impotence, Chretien is still far more reserved in his presentation of the handicap.) Overall, the Fisher King is presented in a far more dignified manner than Arthur is, in line with all of Lodge's blunt and candid treatment of each character's "real" downfalls and less desirable characteristics. The Fisher King's treatment by Perceval is refined; Arthur's treatment by Lodge is candid and unforgiving. While Perceval must focus on the mystery of the Grail, the reader must wonder about Arthur's impotence. I believe that, in the same way the Fisher King's injuries are a result of the out-of-control violence of knighthood, Arthur's impotence is a result of attacks and stress within the out-of-control competitive world of literary academics. (I think it is noteworthy that impotence is considered by many to be a primarily psychological rather than a physical condition, and I believe that will factor into our understanding of the character).

2. In this section of the text we encounter a sudden sweeping-in of a whole new group of characters. Why does Lodge do this? How is it similar to Chretien's story?

Lodge's swift introduction of more than ten new characters could be seen as a summary of the collection of characters from Perceval's story. Each literary professional from each different region or country may represent all of the knights from different countries that Perceval/Persse encounters, and must befriend or defeat, on his quest. This sudden divergence from Persse's story is similar to Chretien's sudden interruption of Perceval's story in order to focus on Gawain's travels. Just as Chretien only returns to Perceval's story momentarily, Lodge only jumps back to Persse for a second, but does end the section with his situation. Unlike Chretien, who presents new characters to the reader the same way they are abruptly met with by Perceval, Lodge introduces each character in full detail before Persse even knows of them. This correlates with Lodge's writing style, which involves presenting a situation in full depth, without adjusting or polishing his characters in order to glorify them for the reader (in fact, he appears to do the opposite, making sure to bring out their flaws immediately). Most, if not all, of these characters are introduced as being lonely or depressed (or both): Rudyard Parkinson and Akira Sakazaki both live alone, Morris Zapp's and Philip Swallow's marriages are both dead, Howard Ringbaum and Michel Tardieu are both shown unsure in their relationships; and the list goes on. Lodge is clearly comfortable with depicting the more realistic, and often darker, side of life.

Small World, part one

2. Persse is first introduced to the reader with his simple quote: "April is the cruellest month" (3). Here, readers get a quick glimpse at his recognition of literary eloquence. Despite his constantly lyrical inner monologue (that often quotes the works of his favorite authors, such as the beginning quote), he is clearly quite reserved and cautious in conservative speech. The author's and Persse's observations seem to mesh, since the narrator mirrors the main character's careful articulation. The most important point in Persse's first appearance is perhaps the fact that he barely speaks at all (and this strangely beckons Dempsey to a rambled confession). He only talks when he finds a topic of interest to him, such as when he challenges Dempsey to complete a rhyme: "But, you know, they very seldom get further than the first line. There aren't many rhymes to 'Limerick'" (7). Though Dempsey thinks himself triumphant, Persse corrects him, proving his intelligence without an outward show (unlike nearly all of the other male characters): "The metre's all wrong...'Limerick' is a dactyl" (7). Persse's blushing in response to Dempsey's crude rhyme is also telling: he obviously is uncomfortable with any communications about sex, and quite a prude. Persse is the opposite of practically every other man attending the conference (including his ability to be respectful towards others). Despite his regular logical posture, though, it takes only the entrance of a beautiful woman for him to lose his cool altogether. Persse is definitely not the typical masculine figure: he is immature and naive, and is most notably a hopeless romantic (three qualities that tend to correspond with each other).

3. Rummidge is described, overall, as a pretty disgusting and disappointing place. The first paragraphs of the story describe in-depth the utter failure of the setup of the conference. The attendees are clearly in "dismay" (3); their accommodations include "stained and broken furniture...dusty interiors of cupboards [without] coat-hangers...and narrow beds, whose springs sagged dejectedly in the middle, deprived of all resilience by the battering of a decade's horseplay and copulation" (3). The rooms, food, service, and lectures are all dissatisfactory, leaving the attendees glum. Nature itself seems in opposition to the conference: "Persse gazed...at the unseasonable snow crusting the lawns and flowerbeds of the Rummidge campus" (3). This is perhaps a parallel of the Waste Forest; both settings are the decayed origins of the quest and rite of passage of the naive main character. Lodge attempts to show that the main character will be moving above and beyond the restrictions of their first setting; and thus growing as a person.

4. Angelica is presented as breathtaking (literally for Persse) in her first appearance: a crowd appears to part at her entrance to the room, making a direct path between the two. Before any qualities are described (in true Chretien style) Persse internally proclaims that she is "the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life" (8). The narrator then goes on to describe her as "tall and graceful, with a full, womanly figure, and a dark, creamy complexion". Probably purposefully, Lodge goes out of his way to avoid medieval beauty standards- in fact with completely opposite qualities. While Blancheflor's pale skin, rosy cheeks, and "golden" hair are completely fulfilling of the medieval beauty aesthetics, (as well as presumably a small and diminutive figure in comparison to a man), Angelica is tall and voluptuous with dark features. Angelica is powerful and a challenge to any man, most notably in her extensive literary knowledge. She is also extremely mysterious: by the end of the first chapter, it is revealed that Angelica did not even belong at the conference and had been tricking several men all at once. I still find her untrustworthy: manipulating a sweetheart such as Persse just seems too wrong.

Perceval part three

3. Perceval has failed to act charitably several times throughout the story. One of the most notable of the acts- due to the fact that it is clearly his familial duty to do so- is his inability to return to his village and assure the safety of his unconscious mother. Perceval also fails to aid others in need many other times: he runs away from the lady of King Arthur's court who was slapped instead of avenging her immediately; he is unable to ask a question in order to save the Fisher King and thus his kingdom, as well as the Waste Forest; and he apparently cannot even restrain himself from harming innocent others, such as the maiden in the tent. Perceval's interests in charity lie only in the tasks that further his quests as a knight. Perceval is essentially the opposite of the man that he is told he must worship and embody: Jesus Christ. Christ made the ultimate act of charity by sacrificing his own life for the sins of all mankind; meanwhile, Perceval is committing those sins. Perceval so constantly misses the mark on what it means to be a good knight because he is more enraptured with the image of knighthood rather than the true meaning of it. He is the equivalent of a policeman who becomes part of the force not because he wants to help others, but because he is absorbed with becoming a powerful source of authority. Perceval needs to discard his glorified perspective of the selfish, violent masculine world and join the charitable maternal world that Jesus so embodied. In doing so, he parallels Jesus in being "resurrected" and starting a new life, closer to God. It can even be said that Perceval was "crucified" and outcast by others for doing what in their eyes was wrong- for not helping the Fisher King. As Jesus was elevated from the violent earthly realm to the transcendent divine realm, so is Perceval. He even experiences a cycle parallel to that of Jesus': He faces the end of his old life on Good Friday, as he "acknowledged that God was crucified and died" (461); that night he faces the scarcity of resources in torture and death with his dinner; he comes to face God; and then on Sunday receives communion, realizing the meaning of true sacrifice. As Chretien notes:

5. I finished the text with mixed feelings: I was both irritated and intrigued by the abrupt ending. I was most bothered by the fact that Perceval's story- and thus the Grail quest- was unresolved. Conversely, I think the ending is a valuable opportunity to consider and reflect on Chretien's creation. The fact that it ends with Gawain- who clearly is not the main character- is upsetting to Chretien's earlier promise to return to Perceval's story. I believe that, if given the chance, Chretien would have continued the story for much, much longer with many more enigmatic passages and symbols. I believe Perceval would have discovered the true meaning of the Grail, thus saving the Fisher King, his kingdom, and the Waste Forest, and would have become absorbed in the maternal world of charity, holiness, and valiance (and therefore becoming a true knight). On the other hand, Chretien is not one to end a story simply and straightforwardly- and not without a hint of irony- so I would not be surprised if Perceval fought an epic battle for the Grail, saved the Fisher King, and went back to Blancheflor without ever realizing his own errors. This story is probably the best to be left unfinished, because just as Perceval is left without an explanation of the Grail, so is the audience. Chretien's skill shows itself once again in his stunning ability to end a story only partway through but for the text itself to still (to this day) be renowned, studied, and investigated. Because of this, I believe this to be Chretien's greatest work.
On another note, I would not be surprised if Chretien killed of Perceval at the end. I think it would further and complete his metaphorical transition as Christ, and would prove to be a largely unforeseen ending with his most ostentatious ending. If I were to write the ending in what I would believe to be Chretien's intentions, I would lead Perceval to be killed in an important battle after becoming part of the matriarchal world, thus sacrificing himself for all others (including the Fisher King, King Arthur's Court, and the Waste Forest). Perceval's death would lead to a renewed world, better for its inhabitants (since he died for their sake). He would then be making the greatest sacrifice possible within the text, as a suddenly appearing and benevolent man losing his life too early; all would mourn the loss.

Perceval part two

1. Blancheflor's name -meaning "White Flower"- is clearly Chretien's allusion to her role as an innocent, virginal woman. She is delicate and pure: her hair is "so lustrous and blonde that anyone who saw it might mistake it, if that were possible, for strands of purest gold. Her forehead was high, white, and as smooth as if it had been moulded by hand or as if it had been carved from stone, ivory, or wood" (404). It is also worth noting that pale white skin was the most admirable complexion for a woman in medieval times; thus she is even more pure and deserving of her name's meaning. She is polite, elegant, and devoid of immoral action. Even when she makes moves on Perceval, she maintains her dignity and chastity by simply kissing or embracing him; it is noted that they simply lay next to eachother without acting further (and thus maintaining Perceval's promise to his mother). She is one of the few characters who do not give in to the temptation of sin; thus, she can be read as an example of a true role model in the text, as well as Perceval's opposite. He is simple-minded, quick to act, and juvenile; she is intellectual, poised, and mature. They would not seem to be an appropriate match, but Chretien still puts them together- perhaps to note the ironic outcomes of many of his actions (such as his rudeness garnering his knighthood and armor). Furthermore, her virginal "white" representation is invaded or perhaps "stained" by Perceval's "red" representation. His brash and violent actions earn him the color red; and as he intrudes into her life, his bright, graphic personality mixes with her pure, chaste characteristics.
Another quality in Blancheflor that I find intriguing is her sense of manipulation. Despite the fact that she appears to perfect and untouched on the surface, she still knows how to get what she wants through others. This is first seen when she approaches and embraces Perceval on his first night's stay, crying about the situation of her town. She explains her problems while weeping profusely (on him) but ends by saying, "Clamadeu, who hopes to have me, will not possess my body until it's devoid of life and soul for I keep in one of my jewellery boxes a knife of flawless steel that I intend to plunge into my body. This is all I had to tell you. Now I'll go back and let you rest" (406). Blancheflor -becoming the damsel in distress Perceval was taught to defend- is clearly baiting Perceval to help her in this explanation; and so her ability to control him through her relationship with him develops. The text notes that she purposefully says no instead of yes to him in attempts to make him more passionate in defending her (407). This process is repeated again througout the text; and it becomes clear to the reader that Blancheflor is not as pure as one would suppose.

3. The blood on the snow is yet another representation of Perceval's "red" personality intermingling with Blancheflor's "white" personality. Perceval sees the three drops of blood and it causes him to recall his lady: "When Perceval saw the disturbed snow where the goose had lain, with the blood still visible, he leaned upon his lance to gaze at this site for the blood mingled with the snow resembled the blush of his lady's face" (432). Though it is, at the surface, another example of their "colors" mixing, there seems to be an even more violent undertone. The manner in which the blood dropped to the ground- a falcon attacking at a goose's neck, thus drawing the blood- can be seen as symbolic of Perceval's violent actions leading to his meeting (and relationship) with Blancheflor. Even when they have already established their mutual affection, his violent actions (such as the defense her town) bring them closer together, thus further intermingling the red and white. There seems to be a hint from Chretien here that the violence that brought them together could tear them apart- and will possibly injure Blancheflor herself (please don't take her away, she's one of my favorites!) Also, the red blood on the white object can be connected back to the "bleeding lance"- another symbol of violence invading purity. Chretien is showing the reader once again that the beautiful and the pristine can- and will- by interfered with and possible desecrated by the corrupt and indecent (and furthermore the dangerous). The eternal bleeding of the lance could indicate that there is an infinite suffering ahead- specifically for the characters of the red and the white.