Classics and the Western Canon discussion
Discussion - Don Quixote
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Week 10 - Reflective on Part 2 and whole book

Did you identify any hidden messages?
I just came across this note from Lewis Carrol about his writing of the "Alice" books. I'm thinking that Cervantes followed much the same process in writhing Don Quixote.
I was walking on a hill-side, alone, one bright summer day, when suddenly there came into my head one line of verse--one solitary line--`For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.' I knew not what it meant, then: I know not what it means now; but I wrote it down: and, some time afterwards, the rest of the stanza occurred to me, that being its last line: and so by degrees, at odd moments during the next year or two, the rest of the poem pieced itself together, that being its last stanza. And since then, periodically, I have received courteous letters from strangers, begging to know whether `The Hunting of the Snark' is an allegory, or contains some hidden moral, or is a political satire: and for all such questions I have but one answer, `I don't know!'

I love that!

So, are we saying Cervantes had no real purpose at the time he wrote DQ except to write down his thoughts as they occurred to him? Is it just that we give life to the tales with our interpretations which may have no real connection to Cervantes at all?


I definitely think Cervantes had a purpose when he started out to write DQ (honestly I'm not completely clear what that purpose was) but it seem to me that as the story goes on that DQ and Sancho develope a life of their own and that Cervantes goes from making up a story to telling the way it has to be, If that doesn't make sense I'm sorry. I'm not sure how to phrase what I'm thinking except to say that I don't think Cervantes was always in complete control of his creation.

Did you identify any hidden messages?
I just came across this note from Lewis Carrol about his writing of the "Al..."
I don't think Cervantes would be happy with this assessment, simply because it's precisely DQ's criticism of his "false" biographer:
"...he may have been like a poet who was at court some years ago whose name was Mauleon; when asked a question, he would say the first thing that came into his head, and once when asked the meaning of Deum de Deo, he responded: 'Dim down the drummer.'"
DQ is written with a great deal of precision, I think, but it's also intentionally ambiguous and open to interpretation on several levels. I think this gives a fantastic depth to the book; it also kept Cervantes out of a lot of trouble with the authorities.

That's a great question. I don't know what Cervantes was trying to do with the classicists. I don't know the status in his day of either Augustine's neo-Platonism or Augustine's Aristotelian approach to Christian doctrine. But given the theological temper of the age he was writing in, I can't imagine that neither of those writers influenced him.

It's a neat quotation, but I think Cervantes did have something in mind. I'm just not sure what. But I don't think DQ "jest happened."

I do agree with you. Nicely said.

I don't see any central philosophical holding in the book, but I'll be interested to see what Patrice comes up with!
I also wonder in this regard how we are to take the Prologue to Book 1. Are its admonitions against "philosopher's maxims" meant ironically?

Nabokov chronicles forty encounters "in which Don Quixote acts as a knight-errant: and contends that "these episodes reveal several amazing points of artistic structure; a certain balance and a certain unity." I wish these lectures were on line, but sadly they aren't.
He categorizes them first by the type of encounter: with animals, with horsemen and herdsmen, with wayfarers, with machines, and with machines (he includes the flying steed in this category). He then categorizes them by the nature of the encounter: acting as, for example, "protector of lovers in distress," "the upholder of his honor," etc. Almost half the battles, says Nabokov, are acting as "an enemy of enchanters"; these are eighteen of the forty battles, or nearly half.
He then follows each encounter. "In most of them there is a delusion. The delusion ends in either victory or defeat, and the victory is often a moral one. Behind the delusion stands the actual event."
He then discusses each of the encounters individually. Some of them we might not recognize at first as encounters, but they help understand Nabokov's approach. For example, Episode One is the Watch of the Armor in Chapter 3, where DQ, at the inn, encounters the two carriers who in order to water their mules disturb his armor, upon which DQ repels and severely wounds them. Victory to DQ.
I can't go through all of them, but at the end, Nabokov has the score 20 wins, 20 defeats. And not only that, in each part there is an equal number of victories and defeats: in Book 1, 13 of each, in Book 2, 7 of each. "This perfect balance," says Nabokov, "of victory and defeat is very amazing in what seems such a disjointed haphazard book. It is due to a secret sense of writing, the harmonizing intuition of the artist."
If you can get these lectures from a library or on interlibrary loan, I suggest you could spend a few enjoyable hours reading through it. (It's also a good way to refresh your memory of the events of the book, since the last third or so of the volume is the chapter summaries he wrote out when he was preparing to give this series of lectures as a visiting professor at Harvard University.)

Good point.
Given how carefully constructed the episodes are, I doubt that the number 40 was a coincidence. And certainly in the time Cervantes wrote, the Biblical associations would have been very much in his mind. Whether it was coincidental or intentional that he matched the Biblical number is something I can't prove, but it seems to me more likely than not.

In the Bible, 40 is the number for testing--certainly appropriate for a knight.
"A 40-something time period, whether days, months, or years is ALWAYS a period of testing, trial, probation, or chastisement (but not judgment) and ends with a period of restoration, revival or renewal."
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_signif...

Great post, Patrice! All of it.
Another thought--I'm reading Frankenstein today and it occurred to me that Miguel Cervantes and Mary Shelley both invented iconic mythical characters who turn up again and again in our thoughts and writings.

In speaking of the balance of victory and defeat, it occurs to me that the scholar Sanson Carrasco is first defeated by DQ (as the Knight of the Mirrors) and then is victorious over him (as the Knight of the White Moon.) I think it's significant that he is a scholar, and one who dissembles, albeit with good intentions.

There were so many people who behaved badly under the auspices of doing good deeds, I thought that humanity was totally corrupt then and perhaps still is. Did the end justify the means? Did the means bring about the proper end? I wonder sometimes who decides they can be judge and jury and why. What gives one man the right to decide for another?
It speaks to the question of whether or not DQ's madness was a bad thing...his intentions were good...One could say the same thing about Carrasco, so who was right Who was really mad?

I am about 100 pages from finishing and I keep thinking that when I get to the end there will be some synthesis but I really doubt that there is. This makes me want to stop reading but I won't quit so close to the end so I keep plodding. I am sure there is a method in his madness but the book is very unusual. This is not a bad thing and I will be very glad to have it on my "to read" list.
I really got a picture of Sancho when he was in the crazy armour and couldn't even walk and then fell over and the guy stood on top of him. Sancho is, for me, the real foundation of the book. I could be wrong. I also laughed when they wouldn't feed him anything. I still laugh quite a bit throughout the book but I will be very glad to finish. I guess maybe that is something to be said about life there. Life doesn't always make sense, does it?

Keeping in mind our faithful narrator Cide Hamete Benengeli, 40 is also recurrent in Islam. I remembered this after seeing something about the 40-day mourning period for the woman who was killed in the Iranian election demonstrations, but there are other references as well. Muhammad was 40 years old when he received the revelation; there are various pregnancy and childbirth rituals that occur at 40 days, and other mentions in the Koran as well (some of which parallel the Torah.) Just a thought.

Absolutely! In fact I'm starting to convince myself that Cervantes was not a fan of the learned "elite" at all -- Carrasco is one of them, the Duke and Duchess are as well, the priest who tries to "save" DQ from himself -- they all want to either cure DQ or use him sadistically for their own entertainment. In any case, they rob DQ of his fantasy, and with it his sincerity. And that is why I find the ending so sad -- the sane DQ just isn't DQ anymore.
Here I might disagree with Patrice a little, but in some respects I think DQ is anti-philosophical. In Cervantes' view, I think, the man of arms really is superior to the man of letters, who must prop up his work with philosopher's maxims. The real hero is the one deluded enough to believe in himself, in his dreams, in whatever he believes, to the exclusion of everyone else -- philosophy and critical thinking be damned. And while the end result of the heroic life is almost inevitably tragic, this is still the life worth living. I think in his view life is more of an adventure to be lived than a philosophy to be considered. Personally, I don't entirely agree with this, but I think it is the lesson of DQ (if there is a lesson at all...)
Thanks to everyone (and Everyman) for this opportunity -- I really enjoyed reading this with you all!

It appears we in agreement then! I was re-reading the chapter in Book 1 where DQ is discussing the preeminence of arms over letters -- he is considering the hardship that the warrior endures in comparison to the reward, and then he breaks off and says, "But let us leave this aside, for it is a labyrinth difficult to leave..." I thought, yes, it is, and I put the book on the shelf.
Vale!

Maybe I have mentioned that I am not very good at "thinking" while I am reading a book - I tend to immerse myself in a text so much that I forget to observe my reactions (or something like that, although nowadays I take some notes). On the other hand after finishing a reading it usually stays with me for a long time. This is to explain why I haven't jumped into the conversation here so far. (I am working on it though as I find it one of the very appealing advantages of online reading groups - the group experience.)
Anyhow.
Yesterday I took time to catch up with most of the comments for all 4 weeks, and reading them as a whole, and after the book, I have noticed two extremely exciting things.
The first one is, most of the commenters (there are exceptions of course) seem to stay very close to the actual novel and try to decipher the text's codes to be able to understand the book, its time, Cervantes, etc. more, while I tend to use the text and its indications to understand our (=my) present more. I do that all the time, not just with DQ. Do not misunderstand me, neither of them is "better or worse", evidently no judgement here, I am just telling you how interesting it is for me.
The other thing I find intriguing is, how straightforward and clear some of the main ideas and suggestions of the novel must be, even if we did not realize it, did not catch it while reading the book. I write "must be" - because there are some conclusions we all make totally independently from each other. Let me elaborate this a bit. I wrote a piece on the second part of DQ a few days ago (if you are interested you can read it here), and while reading the comments you have no idea how many times I almost screamed out loudly "yes! yes!". It was even spooky how we used almost the same words and expressions describing things. Thomas writes somewhere that the 2nd part is "more introspective - I wrote the same thing; thewanderingjew writes he had to go back several times and check "who it is that actually speaking", Patrice wrote "Mind and body becoming integrated?" - I wrote DQ and Sancho were practically the two sides of our inner selves. TWJ also writes "there's no telling what's real and what isn't" and Laurele wrote "it is about truth and how we know what is true and how little we can know for sure after all" - I wrote literally the same thing. Patrice wrote "But here, is he saying that the chivalric novels, are evil? Does he realize what he's saying?" - I wrote about DQ getting close to Sancho's supposedly "real" world by the end. Everyman wrote "So...who or what is normal?" - I, again, wrote almost literally the same. And so on, and so on. (So much so that I realize it is hard to believe I have written my piece without even having one look at the comments - see what I wrote about it in the beginning.) The list above is, of course, not about how clever I am or something like this; it is about how greatly the novel passes on its messages to everyone.
Finally, you guys were having some extremely interesting, thought provoking ideas that have never occured to me but boy I am happy they surfaced thanks to you all. Here are a few: loved loved loved Patrice's "dangling" idea. Absolutely stunning observation. Patrice had another screaming-with-excitement moment for me, when he compares DQ to King Lear. (I have just talked to one of my friends about the stunning similarities of Švejk by Hašek and DQ, too.) A beautifully put sentence and a great discovery by Peregrine: "There's a level of deception in Book 2 (...), subtle and sophisticated because it layers on top of the self-deception of Don Quixote and Sancho." Thewanderingjew and Laurele made some remarks that rhyme with what I said about my observation point of view (=from present to past), when talking about "Nothing has changed.", "we have not moved far along" (TWJ) and "Human nature stays the same" (Laurele).
So - in case you are wondering - all of this was kind of a very humble thank you all for the experience.

I assume you are hinting at my small remark on the Europeans' identity issues; I would certainly write about it with pleasure in the context of DQ - just give me some time to gather my thoughts (and overcome my splitting headache, yuck :( )

The DQ has an interesting strata that might not be so evident over the Atlantic (here, in the US): a very intense, a very passionate self-criticism of its own nation (Spain). And being strictly connected to the nation's identity issues, it is widely shared in this sense with a lot of (almost all) European countries - among them with those which have been constantly struggling with these problems (think of Ireland, the Basque nation, the Serbs vs Bosnians, and so on and so on). The Americans seem to take the slogan "One country, many nationalities" self-evident while it is (and has been for centuries and centuries) one of the most problematic issues in certain parts of Europe (and of course in other parts of the world - India, Middle East, etc.)
Back to DQ and Spain: this country had its own share of giving up (or being forced to give up) dreams of grandeur. One could probably tell a lot about the sad arc that started promisingly, say with the discovery of the Americas in 1492 and ended at the end of the 19th century (with the Spanish-American war), but Cervantes' age surely had one of the deepest points, the defeat of their Armada. It definitely contributed to the nation's self-image and not very favorably - in other words, exactly at the end of the 16th / beginning of the 17th centuries Reality knocked on each Spaniard's door, and they were cruelly awoken from the super-power dreams. Well, in this era, the life of Don Quijote and Sancho Panza definitely bore the shadow of a brave-to-dream national hero as well (a quite contradictive hero though). Sadly enough, from the first crusade a lot of European nations (and mainly their monarchs) believed whole-heartedly in the same "chosen vessel" role (in different forms) - and all of them had to be awoken sooner or later, practically crushed in their national feelings that led - and still leads! - to the serious identity issues among others.
As far as I can see, these issues are not present (or were not present before 9/11) in the American psycho, they don't need to be (didn't need to be). The American history - in this sense only, mind you - is one upsweeping line, success after success. (My statements are strictly descriptive, not judgemental of course.)


It goes back to what I read in English 101 from the book Language in Thought and Action by Hayakawa where it talks about the map and the territory and how words are not the thing but just maps.



I meant that I would like to do my own research as to the meanings of those particular names--Cid, Hammett and Bangali (which I spelled wrong because I didn't have the book in front of me.) I can see how the way I worded it made it look difficult to understand (I do that all the time when I am trying to do something fast and I don't pay attention to detail; I am sure it is very annoying to some people.)
I guess since the translators have already interpreted the book we should could just really read the translation and skip the book, eh? Then we wouldn't waste our precious time. :) (sarcasm doesn't come out well in print so I must add that I was being just a little sarcastic there...)

Here's a likely story: Cervantes started out just writing a farce, making fun of chivalric remances that he found silly, maybe like the Inspector Clouseau movies make fun of detective novels. But the story and the character grew in the telling. I've heard this often happens with writers, that they find their own characters take on an independent life and do things the author never intended. So Cervantes found that Don Q's reinterpretation of reality to fit his imagination made him a more interesting character, and eventually a noble and admirable character. Don Q creates a reality to suite himself, and it works. He takes a few lumps and endures some disappointments, but so do we all. Don Q at least does so in grand setting, at least in his own eyes.
So the book is about how you can invent a reality that takes the unpromising material of the real world and remakes it into the setting for a noble and virtuous life. We don't all go as far as Don Q, but don't we all have a story in our heads about our lives?

Here's a likely story: Cervantes started out just writing a farce, making fun of chivalric remances that he found silly, maybe like the Inspector Clous..."
Roger, that's beautiful. Undergird it with Cervantes's genius, and a myth is born that will last for many more centuries to come.

Great to see you join in, and liked your comments very much. I'm amazed at how great this group is, how insightful the posts, how varied the approaches to the book and how wide the variety of other sources people bring to the discussion.
People have been thanking me, and I appreciate that, but really, I have very little to do with the success of the group; it's all you great readers and posters who are making this such a wonderful experience. And I'm sure that the reading/discussion of Les Miserables -- what a great choice the group made! -- will be equally rich and fascinating.

I read the novel quite innocently and was vaguely aware of the symbolisms weaved into the story. I took most of it for face value, and even with that I love it. You are all welcome to read my un-educated humble review on it. I struggled with this book like no other, but now I see it as such a gentle loyal warm friend. The layers and depths are endless. This is truly a book one can read over and over again and absorb new feelings and understanding each time. I wish i would've known about this group because I think i read it around the same time you all were reading it. I would've had so much fun.
I have such a demented way of thinking, because i always think of books in terms of what if I had to spend the rest of my life in prison? which book would I be satisfied with to feed my mind, to keep me company? and DQ is on the top of my list of my incarcerated book choices.
Why can't I imagine being stranded on a beautiful deserted island instead? honestly..

"
But I think what Patrice was suggesting was that maybe because Cervantes wrote it while in prison, that made it such a good book for reading in prison? After all, presumably he had plenty of time and little else to distract him.

"
I have also heard that he read it early on. But Prospero and DQ are very dirferent, so if there was a connection, it's a faint one, IMHO. Prospero is competent and learned. He makes good use of his learning. 'nuff said? )
Patrice, you may be interested to know that Shakespeare is reputed to have written a play, titled Cardenio, which is based on Don Quixote.
However, I agree with Everyman that Prospero is likely not based on him. Prospero is a magician who rules a fantastic world but he is not deluded and we are expected to view his island as "real."
However, I agree with Everyman that Prospero is likely not based on him. Prospero is a magician who rules a fantastic world but he is not deluded and we are expected to view his island as "real."
The whole topic of authorial "inspiration" or "influence" is a fascinating one. For me, the ones that work least well are those where the source is obvious (West Side Story) while more amorphous inspiration, such as you are hypothesizing, can be richer.

That's an interesting point of view, but how far back do you take the issue of inspiration or influence? We are born with no influences or inspirations (a position, of course, that Plato totally rejects, but let's assume my assumption), so everything we say or write is inspired by some post-birth influence on our.
I know that some scholars love to look for way back inspirations for certain works or aspects of works, but it sometimes seems to me that they are going for very tenuous connections -- so and so dated a girl whose brother was bitten by a dog and that inspired the plot element of having the heroine fall into sympathetic love with a thief who was bitten by her dog while robbing her house.
I actually prefer -- strongly -- works which are inspired by others but are identified as separate works -- West Side Story being a great example;Man of La Mancha being another more relevant to this discussion -- to those which masquerade under the name of the original while distorting it out of shape -- a movie of Don Quixote, for example, set in recent times with cars and flappers, for example. I consider the former much more honest than the latter.

Everyman: I actually prefer -- strongly -- works which are inspired by others but are identified as separate works -- West Side Story being a great example;Man of La Mancha being another more relevant to this discussion -- to those which masquerade under the name of the original while distorting it out of shape -- a movie of Don Quixote, for example, set in recent times with cars and flappers, for example. I consider the former much more honest than the latter.
I think this is raising a related, but different, issue. My own problem with this practice (called Regiopera in the opera world for "Director's opera") is when it distorts, rather than offering new perspectives on the original.
However, on the subject of inspiration and adaptation, it is the game of searching for and identifying the analogies that I find distracting in things like Man of LaMancha. When the influence is more subtle, I don't fall into the "girl whose brother was bitten by the dog" syndrome.
Of course, Shakespeare himself is one of the best examples of taking material and transforming it; I've seen him compared to a magpie. The really cool thing is how he discards something small but conventional and transforms it into something deeper.
One example would be Othello. In the original source, Iago is given a motive for his hatred of Othello: he, too, is in love with Desdemona. In Shakespeare's version this is left, at a minimum, ambiguous. Thus was created the archetype of what A.C. Bradley called "motiveless malignity."
I think this is raising a related, but different, issue. My own problem with this practice (called Regiopera in the opera world for "Director's opera") is when it distorts, rather than offering new perspectives on the original.
However, on the subject of inspiration and adaptation, it is the game of searching for and identifying the analogies that I find distracting in things like Man of LaMancha. When the influence is more subtle, I don't fall into the "girl whose brother was bitten by the dog" syndrome.
Of course, Shakespeare himself is one of the best examples of taking material and transforming it; I've seen him compared to a magpie. The really cool thing is how he discards something small but conventional and transforms it into something deeper.
One example would be Othello. In the original source, Iago is given a motive for his hatred of Othello: he, too, is in love with Desdemona. In Shakespeare's version this is left, at a minimum, ambiguous. Thus was created the archetype of what A.C. Bradley called "motiveless malignity."
Well, yes, Patrice. Indeed, Shakespeare probably created the character of Enobarbus in order to put Plutarch's words into the play. However, fine as it is, it is not this speech that makes the play so great and so fulfilling.
Those come, at least in part, something purely Shakespeare. Specifically, I am thinking of Cleopatra's apotheosis of Antony after his death, which is not found in Plutarch but mirrors similar speeches in other sources.
"His face was as the heavens, and therin stuck
A sun and moon which kept their course and lighted
The little O, the earth." [V.2.79-80, then continuing for another dozen amazing lines.:]
By "reconstructing" Antony, she sets the stage [The Globe was also a little O!:]for her own transcendence after she outwits Caesar. His concession of her "triumph," is not in Plutarch. He says:
"Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes and, being royal,
Took her own way..." [V.2.334-336:]
This is exactly what happens thanks to Shakespeare. No narrative account could accomplish what the poet does. He is able to reunite the two lovers imaginatively. For as long as great poetry moves listeners, we will thrill to the way she succeeds.
She has said:
I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony:
O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man! [V.2:]
Throughout the play Cleopatra has been a consummate actor; her greatest performance leads to her own immortality. Again, Caesar, unwittingly explains:
...she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil [snare:] of grace.[V.2.345-47:]
The two lovers are joined forever thanks to the grace of the playwright. It's for that that I would award him an A!
Those come, at least in part, something purely Shakespeare. Specifically, I am thinking of Cleopatra's apotheosis of Antony after his death, which is not found in Plutarch but mirrors similar speeches in other sources.
"His face was as the heavens, and therin stuck
A sun and moon which kept their course and lighted
The little O, the earth." [V.2.79-80, then continuing for another dozen amazing lines.:]
By "reconstructing" Antony, she sets the stage [The Globe was also a little O!:]for her own transcendence after she outwits Caesar. His concession of her "triumph," is not in Plutarch. He says:
"Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes and, being royal,
Took her own way..." [V.2.334-336:]
This is exactly what happens thanks to Shakespeare. No narrative account could accomplish what the poet does. He is able to reunite the two lovers imaginatively. For as long as great poetry moves listeners, we will thrill to the way she succeeds.
She has said:
I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony:
O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man! [V.2:]
Throughout the play Cleopatra has been a consummate actor; her greatest performance leads to her own immortality. Again, Caesar, unwittingly explains:
...she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil [snare:] of grace.[V.2.345-47:]
The two lovers are joined forever thanks to the grace of the playwright. It's for that that I would award him an A!

(I figured you guys would know).

(I figured you guys would know)."
You are really researching the issue Katy!! lol
What was Cervantes intending the book to accomplish, and did it?
Did you identify any hidden messages?
What sort of attitude toward government did Cervantes mean to convey by his depiction of the Duke and Duchess and the way he had Sancho govern his island that wasn't an island?
These and any other thoughts you may have are fair game for discussion.