Welcome to Week 2, which tells of the second sally our heroes made from their native land. The first week featured a frenzied dialog, particularly on the heated subject of magnets v. mugs. Speaking of which, it looks like around 26 people are currently mug-net qualified. Gadzooks!
I enjoyed the first week’s read. There’s a gentle rhythm to this book — the smallish chapters, the amusing misunderstandings, the occasional unexpected references to dwarves. And it’s good to be back in DM mode, finding 15 minutes here or there to read the day’s allotment.
A question to throw out there for Week 2: Now I’ll stipulate that Don Quixote is “the first modern novel.” But I don’t really know what that means. Anyone care to shed a little light on what defines the modern novel, compared to everything that came before it?
Next Wednesday: Let’s crash past page 100 (Grossman) and meet up at the end of Chapter XV.
Where to begin?
A few people commented on the book burning scene already – it certainly seems like a metafiction when you read that. Of course, the intro smacks of that too when the author complains about poems.
I also forget who mentioned the documentary about Gilliam – suddenly his movies seem infected with Cervantes. The mad knight in the wrong time of “Fisher King” or the filthy reality of medieval grace presented in “Jabberwocky.”
Every time Quixote goes off on one of his soliloquoys about being a knight and the listener(s) automatically realize he is crazy, I wonder if Cervantes is telling us it is crazy to believe in chivalry (as Twain told us in Connecticutt Yankee) or that Quixote is only one living according to true moral code and, therefore, is considered mad.
Ambiguity…The devil’s volleybal.
I always say the term “Modern Novel” stipulates any novel defined by modernity. Hope that helps.
Doesn’t the presence of dwarves indicate a dream sequence? Or is that only in movies?
Literary criticisms point to a primary distinction between Don Quixote being modern and unique from it’s medieval predecessors based on the emphasis of the inner thoughts and feelings of the main character (and the evolution of this character’s thoughts) so my primary and probably far too obvious opinion is that it’s modern because we intimately know what’s going on in Quixote’s head –a modern trend for the time also used by our playwright friend Shakespeare who was also writing in the late 1500’s/1600s. And I am probably thinking too literally (again) but I had read someplace that Don Quixote is also referred to as the first modern novel because of the linguistic history. Spanish is considered to be one of the first modern European languages.
I feel like I just gave an answer like I would have back at Hanover answering a question on a test in one of my “required for being an English-major� survey classes. Feh.
I liked your response, Katie. It helped refresh my memory. Keep them coming!
Wow–that’s a lotta literature language for the languid libations of our lancelot-like knight! (Sorry, but I couldn’t go farther than lancelot-like. )
This former English teacher loved Katie’s wonderful dicourse on the depths of character development in the first modern “novels.” There were plenty of stories before our narrative novels (Chaucer and Shakespeare are just two examples), but not the narrative, expository compulsion! My own personal definition of the “perfect” novel is what Doris Lessing calls “the unputdownable story.” So many of today’s “modern” novels (including many bestsellers that will remain unnamed) may be page turners, but I don’t think the reader becomes as invested with the personal life of the characters, and in fact, often doesn’t shed any tears when reaching the last page! Whenever I read true classics, like DQ, anything by Austen or Melville, and others, I cry copiously when I’m finished with the story! The first chunck of DQ made me remember how sad I’ll be in a few weeks (or months!). I’m going to Costco to stock up on Kleenex. Now!
I’ve been thinking while reading the book that it has a certain post-modern feeling to it, though I’m not sure I could explain what I mean at all. For one, the way the the beginning is laid out – Prologue, versos de cabo rato, Chapter I – the form of it – also seems to me a reaction to tradition. It decontextualize – reverse expectations. You pick up this huge book and you expect a short, serious prologue before the first chapter. And of course the Prologue isn’t that at all. In fact, the first line says in essence – “you may be expecting one thing, but that’s not what you’re going to get.” After the Prologue, you expect Chapter I to begin. But it doesn’t. We instead get verse that uses lines with unfinished endings in different voices with shifting perspectives. Finally, when we do get to Chapter I, the use of first person narrative makes you think for a minute – OK, now, who’s the narrator here? The one from the Prologue?
And I guess this post-moderness – this reaction to tradition (traditional verse, knighthood) – is modern if you look at modernism as always historically at war with what comes before it.
I like your alliteration Computilo! My favorite books are the ones where I am completely invested in the character and you are so right about current “page-turners” – they may be page turners buf often I feel a disconnect from the main character. I am enjoying Don Quixote very much because we do get invested in Quixote. I also am a huge John Irving fan for the same reason- Irving is a post-modern master at writing characters that a reader quickly gets invested in.
Taking a cue from Stella for a moment – the narrator isn’t the only problem. I always explain to my students that all literature really ought to be read in its original tongue. I find myself deconstructing every possible pun and wondering which work in Spanish, which were made to work by our translator, and which are accidents. Near the start of chapter 5, Quixote quotes the “Knight of the Wood.” Had Chaucer or Shakespeare written that, “wood” could mean “forest” or “insane.” Is that same joke available to Cervantes? Was Grossman adding that? Did I?
I would say that modern and post-modern both have an element of what role they allow the reader to take as a part of the text. This book grants tremendous authority to the reader.
“modern novel”? hmmm. I wanted to say something about the disenchantment of the world–windmills are just windmills–but that feels too pat. Maybe it’s the insistence that life will always exceed literature? That there’s no stable authority in books, only in experience.
I’m thinking esp. of that scene where Don Quixote has to figure out what knights eat, since his books never show knights eating, just fasting. The stomach trumps the scholastic. Is that modern?
All-time favorite meta-moment in this section: Cervantes’s history of how he got the Don’s history. In Arabic, translated by a Christianized Moor–that ain’t in the musical. & it’s pretty wild. Why Arabic? What’s Cervantes sending up?
I think a lot of the reference to the “first modern novel” has to do w/ the form. Prior to DQ there were fables, novels of chivalry (eg, Arthur’s roundtable, etc) that the narrator mentions DQ reading–but they were very formulaic, w/ no real character development (ie, very 2 dimensional characters & narrative framework). Lots of archetypes and stock characters that are used time and again (was Commedia del Arte before or after this?). In DQ we get inside the characters heads and the characters are much more developed.
But I really think it’s all about the dwarf opening the drawbridge…that had to have been the turning point!
Yes, I also thought that DQ’s being called the first novel had a lot to do with the combo of character and plot development– the creation of a truly flawed/complex (and complete) character. I must say that I think Grossman has already won me over. I may have to refrain from reading it in public because I’m having to stifle my laughter and I don’t want people thinking I’m as crazy as the Don. (That and I don’t want to strain myself carrying it around.)
A list of dwarves in books and film:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dwarfism#In_popular_culture_and_the_arts
I think the most basic definition of “modern” is anything that has happened since the middle ages, ie. the days of chivalry.
Maureen’s explanation rings truest for me. It’s modern because DQ is real to us– flawed, nothing near an archetype. He’s never seen anything like himself represented in literature, so he figures everyone’s supposed to be an archetypal knight. It’s a lot to live up to.
Funny b/c as a child I believed in the gods from the Greek myths I read because they seemed more real to me than the Christian god presented to me at church– flawed and more like me. It was a lot less to live up to.
having computer troubles and my first thought is not to back up everything before it vaporizes but to protect my deathmarch interests, so here goes: mugnet, mugnet, mugnet.
More than anything, I’ve been really surprised by all the Topher Grace references in the text. For example, on page 55 (Grossman): “But, Senor Uncle, who has involved Topher Grace in those disputes?” And then again, on page 57 (Grossman): “especially when I have a master as distinguished as Topher Grace.”
That’s just bizarre, isn’t it?
-Cecil
I agree with Maureen’s comments above suggesting that the form of the book is why it’s been “dubbed” (perfect word for this topic) the 1st modern novel. Notice that the prior “books of chivalry” are referred to as histories. Apparently in the church dominated culture of the time, made up stuff got no respect, so you passed off made up stuff as “true history.”
So Cervantes just comes right out and says his book is made up stuff, ironically by repeatedly referring to it as an absolutely true history. And he has DQ’s obsession driven by the belief that the books of chivalry describe real events.
In our day we take for granted that characters and events described in a novel can be metaphysically more “true” than “true history.” But apparently in Cervantes world & time, made up stuff couldn’t be seen as true & valuable because, after all, it’s made up.
My take is that the “novel” developed with three characteristics, none of them uniquely identifying but defining when they build upon each other:
– Form: Novels are longer than the “romances” they supplanted.
– Accuracy and purpose: Novels are truly fiction and don’t purport to be history. They are for entertainment and don’t rely on moral instruction or allegory to justify themselves (as heroic epics did, for example).
– Character development: Novels are populated with multidimensional characters, usually with internal dialog that demonstrates their stresses, uncertainties, moral successes and failings alike.
I think the second and third items are closely intertwined–dropping the requirement of “moral tale” goes hand-in-hand with more complex characters–but they feel like separate developments. It’s possible to write a rigidly moral plot with complex characters (Midsummer Night’s Dream?), and a morally vague plot with stereotyped characters (Much Ado About Nothing?), and writers all over Europe in the 16th and 17th centuries were experimenting with both. DQ is one of the first long works to make full use of both trends.
Often offered as “the first novel” is The Tale of Genji, written in the early 11th century by Lady Murasaki. It certainly is longer than most work of the time; offers a plot with very little moral instruction (Genji is a womanizer but does not suffer for it), although this is largely a cultural difference; and has several characters with nuanced internal dialog. But this work was of course almost unknown in Europe until long after DQ.
In the question of “what was the first novel?”, Wikipedia has some conventional wisdom:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modern_novel
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novel#The_first_rise_of_the_novel (scroll down to mention of Don Quixote)
Modern, at least in my graduate program ;), means between the world wars. It’s characterized as a reaction to “classical” thought — you know, the idea that man, with “reason,” got better and better and things would “progress” into better things. Civilization and progress, basically.
Modernism then came along with a more cynical view of the world — that it’s not necessarily getting better, that society and its “progress” is not necessarily “reasonable.” So I s’pose Don Quixote sorta fits the bill — Who’s crazy, and who’s not? Who’s reasonable, and who’s arbitrary and loony?
Laugh Your Heads Off! So far, I think only Kim has commented on the laugh-out-loud aspect of DQ. I have to say that this is the third time I’ve read DQ, but the first time with the Grossman translation. Unfortunately, I’ve laughed my head, sides, a__ off every time I’ve read this book. You would think I would get the jokes already! I think it’s the physical humor of it all–Can’t you just imagine Lucy Ricardo insisting on the reality of the Drawbridge Dwarf, or any of Shakespeare’s laugh-out-loud buffoons patching up their helmets with the Renaissance version of duct tape. However, my dog would like me to be finished with the book, since he gets all verklempt (sp.) at my reaction to every single page! Computilo
Cervantes is certainly making me laugh, but the laughs are the painful, laughing-is-better-for-the-sinuses-than-crying kind of laughs. I usually have no problem separating fantasy from reality, but the madness and mean-ness in the characters is too familiar and too strong to not recoil to some extent.
Backtracking a bit to the issue of DQ being the “first modern novel,” I get the feeling that Cervantes was quite intent on breaking new ground with this book. It’s not enough that Don Quixote has gone mad from reading tired old tales of chivalry; he himself is tired and old. People much younger have been known to get lost in fantasy worlds (Dungeons & Dragons, anyone?), but Don Quixote’s entire being is symbolic of a tired genre. As for the course of the story, it moves with fits and starts initially, but its forward momentum appears to be building. Cervantes gives DQ ample opportunity to reflect on the exploits of past knights errant along the way, but it’s like he’s looking in the rearview mirror as he’s being driven away from a home he grew up in, heading toward an unknown and scary future.
Most of the people who I know who get lost in Dungeons & Dragons are actually pretty old, IMHO.
And re: Jeff’s earlier post, I wanted to comment that I, too, like doughnuts.
While I admire the time and care taken to actually type the proper spelling of “doughnut”, I am not going to comment further on that food item out of risk of incurring the wrath of the Thread Monitor.
I will say, however, that while I too have had a few LOL moments, I’m finding it also to be surprisingly cruel at times, to our main character. He’s taking quite a beating so far. I hope that doesn’t keep happening.
But not so tired and old that he can’t set out on the adventure of a lifetime (even if it’s completely his own mad creation) rather than sitting around in a decrepit old house waiting to die.
Last week i was reading this, trying to put it in modern terms for myself, imagining somebody in Nebraska reading to many Doc Savage and Shadow pulps, and then rmembered Flaming Carrot. “Wow,” I thought, “I can bring him up, and nobody’s going to know about him.” Then I go back and read the other comments, and a bunch of youse have heard of him.
(I can’t think of any other FC -DQ similarities other than the origin story. Perhaps Spongeboy as Sancho? FC was a two-fisted vegetable, who was more into dallying with strippers than worshipping Dulcinea. [And I will still claim FC ubergeeknes, owning my own FC costume.])
So this week there’s posts about the modern novel. what can i add? I heard about Tale of Genji preceding this one. D’oh! Someone’s mentioned that already. What else? I DID read Orlando Furioso in college. Oh wait, what do i rmember about it? Hmmm. He had a horn, I think? and then he lived long enough to turn into Tilda Swinton and become the White Witch. No, wait, that’s the movies.
Crap. What else? I’m not finding it more than grin inducing at this point. I thought the poetry was silly rather than funny. Oh well, guees I’ll shut up and let this be my contribution for the week.
Maybe next week, i can bring up Pierre Menard, unless someone beats me to that. CM
I think if DQ were alive today he would be one of the purple hat wearing ladies that show up in random spots on weekends. And similar to the purple hat ladies, I don’t ever feel bad for DQ b/c no matter the situation, he forges ahead fearlessly. It’s endearing.
week 2 and i still couldn’t bring myself to buy the thing so i’ve started the introduction by downloading the Project Gutenberg EBook Translated by John Ormsby, hope that will get me somewhere.
A few quick thoughts on “modern” as a term.
Most of us use it to mean “up to date.”
It is often used in art and literature to refer to a change in a new direction.
It is also an artistic literary movement that is generally dated as between the World Wars.
When DQ is called the first modern novel – think in terms of the second definition. Remember that the word “novel” literally means “new.”
I agree with the earlier poster who remarked on the beatings DQ is taking. There’s quite a tragic undercurrent to this book so far. And speaking of undercurrents, anybody happen to count how many times the lovely Marcela is called cruel? How very interesting.
I think Marcela does a pretty good job of defending herself. Cervantes leaves no space for a reasonable reader to think any evil of her.
God, how I long for those days when nobody knew the meaning of the words “mine” and “thine.” (When was that, anyway?)
Agreed that Marcela does a good job defending herself. “It is absurd for anyone to say: ‘I love you because you are beautiful; you must love me even though I am ugly.'” Hard to argue with that. I know that line has never worked for me.
A couple of other lines caught my eye, which I hope/assume were examples of the Big C challenging the conventional wisdom:
On Pancho – “a good man – if that title can be given to someone who is poor…” and
More ominously, “it can only be that its author was Arabic, since the people of that nation are very prone to to telling falsehoods, but because they are such great enemies of ours…”
Am I right to think Mr. C was only holding up a mirror to his society, and that we are not seeing his reflection in it?
I’ve been thinking a lot this week about Senora Sancho Panza. What the heck did she do when her -supposedly sane- husband left her alone on the farm while he ran around getting the stuffing beaten out of him while accompanying the crazy neighbor. How did she put in or harvest the crops? Who helped her with the heavy lifting? Don Quixote had the excuse that he was crazy- but what was Sancho’s excuse?
I am learning the disadvantages of coming in at the eleventh hour, when all the intellectual debate and references to Fisher King, Flaming Carrot, and the Tale of the Genjii have already been made. So I’ll just say I’ve been thinking of “tilting at windmills” all day, both as heroic and as just plain stupid.
I liked the Marcela section a lot. I loved the poem/lament itself (which really should be recorded by Nine Inch Nails or Nick Cave or maybe April Lavigne), and Marcela’s refutation of the entire thing was just beautiful. Nice bit of 16th century grrrl power. Something very close to my heart, as a 44 year old white man.
Also: another section, another beating for our hero!! Good grief.
Interesting that we have a chapter full of not-so-complimentary comments about the Arab race & then a few chapters later we have Marcela who is offering some very contemporary view of a liberated woman.
Bad week- I’ve misplaced Don Quixote!