After reading The Monk, it left me with alot of food for thought. The plot and arrangement of events intrigued me. I found Lewis' method of presenting Ambrosio as an eloquent, impeccable abbot whom the city idolizes. As the true nature of his heart is uncovered, it baffled me and even disgusted me. But because of his initial introduction as a character, I felt like I was waiting somewhat on the edge of my seat for the outcome of the monk. Even though I had read the summary on the back of the book, I felt like each page I read I subconsciously wished that Ambrosio would reach a point of turn around.
Matilda's revelation of herself as a female and their coming together for the sake of Ambrosio's new found lusts was interesting to me. I think it showed the nature of the human being and how hiding behind the robe could not shield Ambrosio from what lay inside. It was interesting to me also how one thing led to the other in his life. The influence of Matilda is also obvious. Yet,in my mind I could not really blame him, nor could I blame her for each new venture he explored. It is also interesting how he graduated from one crime to another. While he never really felt remorse for the things he did, I felt like he felt trapped in the exploration of his indulgences and felt he could not back away.
Antonia seemed to be the innocent lamb that Ambrosio sought and pursued frantically till he possessed and defiled her. I found her innocence interesting, but not particularly appealing. This is because I can not possibly see what her mother hoped to protect her daughter from by keeping her from the knowledge of the harsh world they lived on. It had me wondering at some portions of the story what thoughts ran through Antonia's mind as she was pursued by Ambrosio. I think it is interesting that a young woman howbeit a girl of fifteen years old could have no knowledge of certain things.
Fully aware that Antonia was the victim of the story as she lost her virtue and her pride, the story still had me wondering if Ambrosio could in fact have been a victim as well. A victim to his desires which he had never learned to curtial, as he had not been exposed to such temptations at all during his life, as much as we know though.
Other areas of interest were the continual labeling of Antonia as friendless. It makes me wonder, who is a friend? Apart from her mother, she had Flora who was almost wholly loyal. She had relations that we were told would gladly have taken her in and cared for her upon the death of her mother, so did the narrator teach us that she was friendless?
Also, the role of the poems and the songs in the story was interesting. The mystery that surrounded the life of Agnes, Ambrosio's monastery as well as St. Clare's was also interesting.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Antonia v. Ambrosio & Matilda
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3 comments:
Grace,
I completely agree with you; you raised some great points. I hadn't even noticed the "friendless" labeling! I'm glad you pointed it out, it's something else to think about.
I got the feeling that Ambrosio was cursed from the beginning. That's just my interpretation, but that would explain why Matilda was there in the first place. I think Ambrosio would have been the same vain, selfish, arrogant jerk, regardless of if he was a monk, a teacher, a salesman, etc. At the end, Gabriel tells him that he's been watching Amrbosio for a long time; that cemented it for me. Like you, I kept hoping he would redeem himself, but Ambrosio was a hopeless case the whole time. What do you think? A hopeless case? Or just bad choices?
Liana,
I don't know if you noticed the same reference to friendlessness in Emma when Harriet Smith was introduced. She submits herself to the will of Emma, and becomes almost wholly obedient to the other's will. She would rather have Emma as a friend (and in a way a possessor or source of identity as she herself is in an orphan) than she would be married to a farmer.
On Ambrosio, I think that once he let his foot slide,and "graduated" from one sin to the next worse one, his fate was basically sealed. Regardless, I think that when I read the story, I was aware that he was going only downhill, but I still wished he would redeem himself somehow.
One of the things we talked about when reading The Monk was the ambiguity of Lewis' treatment of crime, "unnatural" sexuality, and violence--Grace's post really gets to the heart of these matters, and it raises questions about just how we are supposed to read these characters. If we look at the gothic genre as a meditation on the dark underbelly of human nature, the parts of human nature we're not often--or think we're not often--privileged to interact with, then these novels do something important. I remember our class discussion of video games and bad TV--in part, they may give us an outlet of sorts, a way of working through these issues. But it's also interesting to note that, in the end, Ambrosio gets his. So, this exploration of the transgressive is just that--an exploration, a licensed, for a brief moment, look into the dark corners of human life. Terry Castle, in a brilliant book called Masquerade and Civilization, takes up the idea of the carnivalesque (I'm reminded of the riot at St. Clare) as a "steam valve" in fact allowed and enabled--licensed--by the powerful classes. She looks at the reversals of the carnival as a way to in fact maintain social, cultural, economic, and political control under the disguise (pun intended) of rebellion and revolution.
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