Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Nationalities as Social Constructs

            In our three readings for this week, we see that home often cannot be defined by the social constructs that are borders, and that identity cannot solely be associated with one’s nationality. The three pieces address the concepts of home and identity in different manners, but all seem to demonstrate that despite our tendency to classify ourselves based on our countries of origin, one’s nationality may not always be an accurate representation of how one identifies his or her self. Today, we live in a world that is segmented by walls, fences, and imaginary lines. These dividers force us to pick one side or the other, but this dichotomy does not apply to all and it often alienates those who fall into the no-man’s land that is created as a result of these borders.
            In Borderlands/La Frontera, Gloria Anzaldua’s account of life along the Mexican/American border is evidence of the limitations of using nationality as a primary identifier of those whom we associate with. As Anzaldua describes, the border does not represent a clean split of cultures. Instead, the Borderland is a place where numerous cultures intersect—Indian, Mexican, American—and all of these cultures come to be visible in the people who inhabit this land. Anzaldua does not call herself Mexican or American. Instead, she identifies as a mestiza; “a product of crossbreeding; designed for preservation under a variety of conditions” (Anzaldua 103).  It is unfair that Anzaldua must be forced to classify herself as one nationality or the other, as neither justly represents the hybridity of her identity, nor accurately communicates where Anzaldua feels her roots are. This story is indicative of the damage that our global system of nation-states truly inflicts on the people of the Borderlands, as by being forced into certain taxonomies, people like the mestiza “have never been allowed to develop unencumbered…never been allowed to be fully [them]selves” (108).
            A similar situation unfolds in Thomas King’s Borders. Prior to the arrival of European settlers to North America, Native Americans maintained unchallenged sovereignty over their own land. However, colonial powers viewed the Natives as an impediment to their own expansion, and so it was necessary to relocate the tribes—often forcibly. Native Americans were forced to forfeit their sovereignty and were “allowed” to become citizens of America and Canada. However, for some, even claiming citizenship with a country that was occupying their land was an admission of defeat and submission to the colonizers. So, when Laetitia’s mother is stopped at the border and asked to state whether she is coming from the “Canadian side or American side,” it is only natural for her to respond that she is coming from the “Blackfoot side” (King 138).  For her, admitting to come from either America or Canada is to recognize the legitimacy of a country that has stripped her people of their land and their sovereignty. Her refusal to capitulate is an incredible example of pride and resilience in the face of an oppressive system that has deemed her rights and the rights of her people as insignificant, and is thus a refusal to be a willing participant in such a system
            In “Who’s Irish?” by Gish Jen, the Grandmother is faced with a loss of her own identity as she begins to realize that her world has changed around her and become largely unfamiliar. She is troubled by the fact that her granddaughter’s “nice Chinese side [has been] swallowed by her wild Shea side” (Jen 6). She knows that in China, she would deal with a problem like this with spanking the child, but her daughter and son-in-law don’t view this as acceptable. After seeing Sophie’s bruises resulting from what the Grandmother would call light punishment, the Grandmother is forced to leave the house and is no longer allowed to babysit Sophie. However, she is taken in by Bess, who assures the Grandmother that she is an honorary Irish. In the face of this loss of touch with her own traditions that she associated with being Chinese, the Grandmother finds solace in accepted into Bess’s culture, demonstrating again the fluidity of nationalities and their lack of concreteness.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Obstacles to Assimilation

                Perhaps the greatest challenge of adjusting to a new home is the gaining the acceptance of those with whom you must share it. People who have lived in a particular place for their entire lives become accustomed to a specific standard of behavior to which they hold all others. Those who outwardly express differences encounter the greatest resistance from these people, because they begin as outsiders, and their transition becomes more difficult as a result.
                A common image of home is a place where one belongs, and where one is understood. It is difficult to admit strangers, those who do not fit the mold, into such a place. One naturally comes to expect what is familiar, and deviations from those expectations can be jarring. In my New Jersey hometown, which is more diverse than many, there is a large Indian American population. I grew up with classmates whose parents moved to America from India, and I became acquainted with their culture and customs. Most of my peers at home consider this blending of cultures the norm. Our parents’ generation, however, grew up in a different context – there was far less diversity in the area when they were young. To them, people of color remain strange and inscrutable. They still subscribe to unfair stereotypes, and they treat members of other races with mistrust, particularly those “exotic” races to which they had no exposure for their entire lives.
                Jasmine wants desperately to be accepted into American society. She has been so deeply scarred by her past, which she equates to India, that her only apparent escape route is complete assimilation in America. In Flushing, where she lives in a bubble of desperate cultural preservation, she “was spiraling into depression behind the fortress of Punjabiness” (148). The sameness is oppressive to her. And yet, when she tries to become fully American, she discovers that others make it difficult. Wylie and Taylor try to be accepting and unbiased, but occasionally slip and reveal that they still consider her different from them. When they she first meets Jasmine, Wylie assumes that Jasmine is “probably tired of Americans assuming that if you’re from India or China or the Caribbean you must be good with children” (168). Firstly, Jasmine has never heard this stereotype, and so by exposing her to it Wylie inadvertently alerts Jasmine to the differences that native (and Caucasian) Americans perceive between themselves and foreigners. Moreover, Wylie subtly categorizes herself and Jasmine, placing herself into the “American” category and Jasmine into the “other” category. For Jasmine, whose greatest desire is to become completely, undeniably American, this distinction is a massive obstacle to overcome.
                Wylie and Taylor eventually become accustomed to their caregiver, but they are not the last ones to ostracize Jasmine. Dr. Mary Webb, with whom Jasmine eats lunch at the University Club, approaches her under the assumption that because Jasmine is Indian, she must understand her spiritual dabbling.  She says that the idea of reincarnation “can’t be new or bizarre to [Jasmine]. Don’t you Hindus keep revisiting the world?” (126). She assigns Jasmine a belief system and personality based on how she looks. She even comments that she assumed Jasmine was a vegetarian. Jasmine, even with her Indian background, wants to be considered American, but others refuse to accept this because of her appearance.

                Jasmine is not the only character to encounter these challenges: Du is also treated differently because of his race. Though Du is more attached to his cultural background than Jasmine is to hers, he wants to adjust to America on his terms, and native citizens do not try to understand or respect those terms. Du’s teacher compares Du to other Vietnamese children he has encountered, and tries to speak Vietnamese to him, which horrifies Du and Jasmine. She comments that “this country has so many ways of humiliating, of disappointing,” because those who do not understand them assume that they know everything about them (29). Jasmine observes that all immigrants, legal or not, start letting go of their pasts eventually, and all at once “the rest goes on its own down a sinkhole” (29). And yet, it can never go away entirely, because those who do not accept them and instead fall back on stereotypes will continue to bring them back to the pasts they have left behind.

Role of names in Jasmine

The role of names in Jasmine correlates with the protagonist's various relationships with other characters as she travels to various places throughout the course of the novel. Jasmine grew up in Punjab India and was originally named Jyoti by her parents. Her name seems to change in accordance with the relationships she fosters with others. Her birth name Jyoti represents closeness and affinity not only with her family, but with her Punjab culture as well. Her father refers to her as Jyoti until his death and eventually Jyoti meets and falls in love with a young man named Prakash. He begins calling her Jasmine as their relationship blossoms and Jasmine's new name signifies her coming of age and marriage. It also represents her new life with Prakash. Years later Prakash is murdered and Jasmine moves to Manhattan with her close friends. Jasmine's friend Taylor affectionally refers to her as Jase, signifying another chapter in her life with new relationships. Jasmine flees to Iowa after encountering her husband's murderer and meets an older banking agent in his fifties named Bud. Her name changes once again to Jane as she lives in Iowa caring for her adopted son Du. Jane seems to derive the least fulfillment from her life with the much older and crippled Bud. Her transition correlates with the prophetic insight provided by the fortune teller in the beginning of the novel. Jasmine's transition from Jyoti to Jane correlates with her gradual loss of self.

Jasmine's Journey

My reading of this book is that it simply wants to communicate that life is a journey. Jasmine goes through a series of life changes and continues to move from place to place, constantly in motion. I think it is very interesting that the story is told i a flashback form. It seems to me that the structure itself is communicating that the current Jasmine is a combination of all the past events that occurred to her, all the past people that she was or became before we meet her.
I was specifically intrigued by the astrologer's prophecy in the beginning of the book. I think that despite Jasmine's protest, his words definitely do color her life experiences. It seems that it does come true in a sense, and that in another sense, some of her actions are propelled by a need to not allow the prophecy to come true. The Jasmine we readers know is not a widowed women, as the prophecy tells her she is to live her life in "widowhood and exile" (3). Yet, this is not the case. The words haunt her, however much she wishes they didn't, as she comments at the end of this reflection, she communicates "I know what I don't want to become" (3).
Following this further, it could be argued that the prophecy did come true when Jasmine was another version of herself, or living another life. Jasmine admits "I have had a husband for each of the women I have been. Prakash for Jasmine, taylor for Jase, Bud for Jane. Half-face for Kali " (197). By the end of the novel, it seems that Jasmine has come to embrace a fluid philosophy of life. she tells Karin "something [she's] an expert on: I see a way of life coming to an end" (229), reflecting that "when [she] was a child, born in a mud hut without water or elecricity,the Green revolution had just struck Punjab [... she asks to] release Darrel from the land. There are different mysteries at work" (229). It strikes m this parallel between the both of them, they are both beholden to a land or custom that they wish to be free of, the only way in which they can truly be free of them, however, is to die. However, Jasmine dies and is reborn as a new person with a new identity, whereas Darrell dies for good.

The Long Shadow of Society: How the Struggle Between Societal and Individual Self Leads to Loss of Identity

          The protagonist of Jasmine is in a constant state of flux because she never stops to develop the self as she feel the weight of Society's shadow forcing her to prioritize duty over identity.  This is true from the chronological beginning to the end, starting with her education.  Education is an amazing tool for development of self as it exposes you to many fields of interest through communicable experience, but only if you take the time to introspectively reflect and find the self through that which is not self.  She instead simply absorbs life like a sponge and never squeezes out the excess.  She instead seeks to define self through how other define her, again without her own reflection and consent, as we see with the constant shift of name.  Instead of her naming herself, or upholding the name she was given at birth, she flows with how others define her; Jasmine, Jazzy, Jane, etc.  This has her in constant flux as she has no base to come back to, no self, so she is swept up by the current of life.  At the very end is when we finally see that she understands the state of things and looks to define the self.  She references back to the astronomer told her she would be a widower and exiled, again being defined by others,  but now she says she will re-position the stars, thus finally having an active, and not passive, impact on her own life.  This speaks to the idea of inner homeland not in the way any others have spoke about it before, as even Rushdie took culture and ethnicity as a major part of inner homeland, because the author talks about self as homeland.  Experiences are of course needed to understand self, like culture, but ultimately they are simply a lens used to view self and they do not define what self is, we are the only ones who can truly affect the self homeland, we are the only ones who can position our stars.

Plain Jane or Jasmine?

In Jasmine, the protagonist has somewhat of a distorted sense of home. What is home to her is a combination of different places as well as different people. From India to New York and finally to Iowa she finds herself and begins her journey as Jasmine. Through her many different experiences readers gain an understanding of what it’s like to be a lost girl in a new place where you have to start over. Interestingly enough she juxtaposes her life in India to her new life in Iowa. What she discovers throughout much of the book is that some of the sufferings which herself and her family endure in India is kind of similar to some of the suffering many of the new characters in her life in Iowa experience. This parallel of worlds begins right at the beginning: “We are just shells of the same Absolute, (15).” Jasmine sees the similarities as well as the differences remembering this saying by villagers and recognizing that although Iowa is a somewhat drastically different environment there are important similarities.
One of those similarities is when she tries to talk to Mother Ripplemeyer about her world-class poverty stories. Although Mother doesn’t understand, they do have similar experiences to share since Mother experienced poverty during the Depression. In a way she tries to find connections among the people in Iowa. She does that because she wants a new identity as an American in Iowa and if by doing that she has to find connections to her roots to feel truly at home. “Jane as in Jane Russel, not Jane as in Plain Jane. But Plain Jane is all I want to be. Plain Jane is a role, like any other. My genuine foreignness frightens him [Bud]. I don’t hold that against him. It frightens me, too (26).” She wants to belong and feel at home and doesn’t want to be different, or foreign but “plain” or ordinary. She witnesses racism and sees how Mexican immigrants are treated and is somewhat connected to them. She understands what it’s like to feel disconnected and “foreign” in a supposed safe (?) place. “I suppressed my shock, my disgust. This country has so many ways of humiliating, of disappointing. (29)” Jasmine addresses Du’s ignorant history teacher and his comment about “trying a little Vietnamese” on him. The fact that she suppressed her shock expresses her yearning to belong to the American society. She wouldn’t dare address the teacher in fear she might upset him and in turn be an outsider within her new community.
Throughout the duration of the novel, Jasmine’s detest with America shows more and more.  She says phrases like, “I wish I’d known America before it got perverted (200),” referring to Bud and is misgnostic ways. Another similarity between India and America would be the oppression of women. Both Karin and Jane (Jasmine) are kind of victims of Bud’s wounded sense of self, “Karin and Jane, wives of a wounded god. Who will say a mantra for us? (215)” This parallel between two of Bud’s lovers/wives also draws a comparison between India and America. These two women are not so different and have a person in common. In a way Jasmine is pretty similar to Karin.
At the end of the novel, Jasmine is faced with this inevitable conclusion. She goes to Iowa because it’s safe and easy. She goes there to be Plain Jane. What she discovers, is she isn’t Plain Jane and she must leave Bud because he prevents her from truly being free in this supposed free land. “I am not choosing between men, I am caught between the promise of America and old-world dutifulness. A caregiver’s life is a good life, a worthy life. What am I to do? (240)” Her answer is to choose the life of freedom, of discovery. Instead of settling in Iowa as Plain Jane, she chooses to see the world in America as Jasmine who is no longer afraid.


Dead dogs are not virile

“I feel so potent, a goddess.”
With this musing the reader is introduced by the protagonist to ultimately exhibits itself to be a major (arguably the major) theme of the work. That is to say, sensuality is one of the primary driving forces behind the development of Jyoti/Jasmine/Jane. It serves as a catalyst for both her triumphs and trauma and by all appearances seems to absolutely color her perception of the world, i.e., the action of the novel (which is driven by her narration) can be interpreted within a framework of eroticism. As e.g., consider the character, Darrell Lutz. He kills himself because of his inability to tend the farm, to grow life, to have a life carried on the frothy foam of sensuality which incessantly propagates the possibility and literal occurrence of creation. The stasis that Darrell falls into, that the Professorjis fell into, that Bud was forced into, is something that Jasmine flees from, quite literally. She attaches herself to whatever opportunity for escape presents itself, even if it requires her to move to Iowa or play the homewrecker or leave a man to whom she is the world and more.
I think this restlessness can be traced to the experience described in the very first chapter of the book, in which she encounters the dead dog floating on the river. She not-so-cryptically states, “ That stench stays with me...I know what I don’t want to become”. The dog symbolizes the decay associated with a lack of virility. Thus, Jasmine yearns for something mostly incoherent but can best be hinted at by her sexuality that overpowers her as much as anybody else. Thus, she lives a life of impulse, an exciting life, one that intoxicates those who come into contact with her and inspires a very (post) modern view of what it means live an American life. It’s one that’s intermingled with a bittersweet, highly erotic sense of loss and simulation, running all the while from a strange, inexplicable emptiness that causes succesfull people to kill themselves and seemingly happy men to abandon twenty eight years of marriage for its promise.
The distaste that Jasmine feels for the stale, dutiful existence of orthodoxy is one that stirs yours affectionately and aligns (a little, frustratingly typically) with my own worldview. It follows with the old cliche of youth that calls for something of a surrender to a pneumatically sultry and idealized sense of self that dazzles and dizzies and seeks, constantly seeks. Mukherjee’s work by no means glorifies the nomadic life lived by Jasmine and the protagonist herself doesn’t wander around with a lustful sense of wide eyed wonder and exhilaration. In spite of this, it’s a life Jasmine constantly reaches for over and over again no matter how many alternatives she’s presented with, each one farther away from the world she left behind. It’s a philosophy that yours truly aspires to (so far with little success) and Jasmine is a character that I don’t think it’s unfair to relate to. Yes, material necessity that I could never begin to fathom, were causes in many of the decisions that bore her along but they were never the cause. That, I would assign to was her sensuality which buoyed her above contentment and left her filled with a need to constantly transform herself, to constantly move along no matter who she loved and who loved her. Thus, one may take a cue from Jasmine to always carry on the search for something that cannot be found, to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving.

(For those last 11 words I must cite Richard Linklater and his film Waking Life even though I don’t want to).