著者
山口 和彦
出版者
一般財団法人日本英文学会
雑誌
英文学研究. 支部統合号 (ISSN:18837115)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.8, pp.67-76, 2016-01-20

Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian, or the Evening Redness in the West has been highly evaluated as a counter-history of the borderland, or as an epic novel. A number of critics, however, have pointed out its lack of ethical substance due to its abundant descriptions of violence, blood, and death. This essay examines the thematics of violence, and reinterprets BM as a work of fiction that explores the whereabouts and possibility of ethics in the postmodern and in the posthuman. The kid's characterization as a mother-killer is associated with the violence of American historiography, reflecting the rhetoric of America's expansion as biological development. It, in turn, defies the conventions of the Western-Bildungsroman genre: the building of American character through frontier experiences. Thus, BM foregrounds ontological problems of human existence and free will in the apocalyptic borderland. The desert in BM functions as a topos in which the judge practices his hyper-rational, hyper-nihilistic violence, which relativizes every system of values to the single purpose of life: "war," that is, "the truest form of divination." The kid, the judge's biggest rival, rejects being a subject of the "war," and, as a result, is cannibalized by the judge himself (not as a sacrifice for the common good or belief). His death, however, is presented as the unrepresentable, which demonstrates that this death itself is not usurped by the judge, who attempts to be the suzerain of the earth. The biggest dilemma the story presents is the kid's rejection of opportunities to kill the judge by exercising his own violent nature. This, paradoxically, leads to the possibility of a counter-ethics that continues to reject the judge's philosophy of violence. The counter-ethics (in the posthuman), in this sense, might be represented as one always already in a germinal stage, as shown in the epilogue.
著者
塚田 雄一
出版者
一般財団法人日本英文学会
雑誌
英文学研究. 支部統合号 (ISSN:18837115)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.3, pp.185-202, 2011-01-20

This paper examines how the notion of homosexuality was formed in late nineteenth-century England, and how Oscar Wilde contributed to its formation, through an analysis of the discourse of Victorian sexology, the trials of Oscar Wilde, and Wilde's novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, while focusing particularly on the social and ideological background of the late Victorian period. In fin de siecle England, a growing fear of infectious diseases such as cholera and syphilis generated the idea that these diseases (and the people who carried them) needed to be purged in order to invigorate the British Empire, which was showing some indications of decline. Homosexuality, also known as "perverted sex," was listed among such diseases. The Victorian middle class believed that effeminate homosexuals were spreading corruption among "healthy" citizens and thereby debasing the masculine strength of the British Empire. The newly found science, Victorian sexology, provided a means to identify homosexuals in society by inventing new terms and theories to describe their sexuality, about which little was acutually known at that time. In this environment, Oscar Wilde was regarded as a poignant symbol of homosexuality, as he was significantly brought to trial and found guilty of gross indecency. The trials revealed how Wilde's sexuality threatened Victorian society. Wilde, with his homosexual activities, nullified two important boundaries that secured patriarchal society; not only did he threaten social distinctions by communicating with young men from the lower classes, but he also destroyed the barrier that safeguarded the Victorian household by committing a gross indecency while being the father of two sons. As such, the purge of Wilde the homosexual was significantly staged so as to maintain a "healthy" empire. Wilde's own writings echo the themes of his life. His novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, demonstrates the infectious nature of homosexuality. Through the representation of Dorian as a musical instrument that the wise elder Lord Henry plays, the homosexual state of being "infected by the elder" and ultimately "infecting the younger" (for Dorian himself also corrupts the youth in the second part of the novel) is examined throughout the novel. Moreover, the fact that this novel was citied in the trials as evidence of Wilde's crime (corrupting the "healthy" youth) and that it later served as a handbook for homosexuals suggests that The Picture of Dorian Gray itself was indeed an infectious, replicating presence in the same way as homosexuals were considered to be in Victorian society. Wilde thought a great deal of his aesthetic sense, and believed that he was leading the life of a decadent artist, free from the affairs of the middle-class society that he so despised. However, ironically enough, Wilde was in fact contributing to the British social purity movement by providing and reinforcing the representation of Victorian homosexuality in his trials and his novel in a way that mirrored how Victorian sexology attempted to theoretically characterise homosexuals in order to cure the disease of the empire.
著者
丹羽 隆昭
出版者
一般財団法人日本英文学会
雑誌
英文学研究. 支部統合号 (ISSN:18837115)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.6, pp.331-338, 2014-01-20

The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald's tour de force, is an endless array of "mismatches." They are extensively seen in Gatsby's taste and behavior, including his courtship of Daisy. Even his own name is a "mismatch," meaning a WASP gangster armed with a pistol. Moreover, the milieu for Gatsby's out-of-date quest is New York in the 1920s, an appalling "mismatch" of material prosperity and spiritual dilapidation. These "mismatches" are sometimes comical, and yet ominous enough to prefigure the approaching catastrophe. In addition, practically all the characters except Nick are mentally contaminated more or less by omnipotent money. The end of Gatsby's dream illustrates that the American Dream of success has vanished as in the money-oriented society the great class difference has now become insurmountable. Nick's story of "mismatches" and the moral depravity in the East ends up with an unnatural sense of hope-with his external message that we "beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." The appeal, however, sounds somehow weak, because it is made by Nick who, instead of staying on in the East, has severed all his relation to the East, and chosen a kind of regression to his native Mid-west. It seems that the restoration of moral order in America was so difficult that he had to turn his back totally on its corrupt realities. However, does it not mean a defeat, rather than a hope, on Nick's part? Actually, Nick's resolution and appeal make a contradiction. This double-mindedness forms the real theme of The Great Gatsby, pointing up Fitzgerald's own awareness, acquired through his affairs with Ginevra and Zelda, of the depraving yet irresistible power of money.