Sunday, 20 June 2010

Even Better than the Real Thing? ~ 1.1

A lot of the technological gadgets available on the consumer market today are not simply designed to be useful tools which help the individual communicate and function in the modern world, they are also fashion statements. The mobile phone, the laptop, the portable media player one owns is a statement about who that person is. Consequently just like any other fashion, technology has its trends, remodelling, rebranding, its next-best-thing. Jean Baudrillard argues in his philosophical treatise Simulacra and Simulation that machines and technology are “destined to become the organic body of man.”[1] Therefore the human “body itself is nothing but a medium”[2] for technology, that which merges the organic and machine, and thus begins the rise of the cyborg.

Possibly the most influential theory on the cyborg is Donna Haraway’s 1985 essay titled A Cyborg Manifesto. She describes the cyborg so;

“By the late twentieth century, our time, a mythic time, we are all chimeras, theorised and fabricated hybrids of machine and organism; in short, we are all cyborgs. The cyborg is our ontology; it gives us our politics.”[3]

The figure of the cyborg therefore challenges our existence, and “threatens fundamental boundaries that have long structured ways of understanding the world”[4] such as; human and animal, organism and machine, physical and non-physical. Haraway also claims that the cyborg is “a creature of social reality as well as a creature of fiction”,[5] which suggests that the fictional cyborg is very influential in constructing notions of what a ‘real’ cyborg in the postmodern world could potentially evolve into.

Haraway’s theory of the cyborg as the ultimate symbol of the postmodern self is epitomised in Neuromancer, where “the human and the technological overlap nearly endlessly.”[6] One of the advancements available in Gibson’s fictional society is a technology called microsoft. A microsoft is a microchip that is connected to the central nervous system and the brain via a cybernetic implant behind the ear. Multiple microsofts can be plugged in behind the ear at any given time, and each microsoft gives the user instant access to information or abilities that specific chip holds, for as long as that chip remains plugged in.[7] For example a Chinese language microsoft allows the user to temporarily speak fluent Chinese. The ability acquired from the microsoft is artificial, in that it is temporary and the individual never truly acquires the skill. Using Baudrillard’s argument, the technological here is using the human body as its vessel, its medium.[8]

None of Gibson’s characters in Neuromancer “possess any inherent resistance to the incursion of the artificial in their bodies or lives”,[9] perhaps none more so than Molly, the razorgirl. She is the most explicit depiction of a cyborg, having merged her body with technology. Her eyes have been surgically replaced with mirrored lenses; “the glass was surgically inset, sealing her sockets. The silver lenses seemed to grow from smooth pale skin above her cheekbones.”[10] She also has had blades inserted instead of her fingernails; “she held out her hands, palms up, the white fingers slightly spread, and with a barely audible click, ten double-edged, four-centimeter scalpel blades slid from their housings beneath the burgundy nails.”[11] These alterations make Molly a consummate assassin. This echoes Haraway’s argument that “the main trouble with cyborgs ... is that they are the illegitimate offspring of militarism ... But illegitimate offspring are often exceedingly unfaithful to their origins.”[12] Here Haraway seems to be referring to the fact that it is the military government sectors that are always developing new technological weapons. Bodily enhancements, such as Molly’s fictitious razor blade nails, could make a soldier stronger and more equipped for battle. But there is always the risk that these new enhanced soldiers will use their alterations outside required military operations, even perhaps against their own government/military bodies. Molly exemplifies this potential anarchic individual who is extremely difficult to control due to her enhancements.

Military bodies are in fact already developing more technological tools to help give soldiers more strength in battle. One existing example of this is a wearable machine called the Lockheed Martin’s Human Universal Load Carrier (HULC). HULC consists of a pair of battery-powered titanium hydraulic legs that are attached to the soldier’s own. Once attached, this will give each soldier the ability to carry 90kg loads (the weight of a full-grown gorilla) at 10mph.[13] This effectively allows soldiers to carry round a lot more ammunition, which results in soldiers being able to stay out in battle for much longer – the exoskeleton’s battery life lasts up to 48 hours. One can already foresee the potential dangers of such a weapon if it ends up in the wrong hands. And yet there is already a similar type exoskeleton which is being manufactured for public use. The Cyberdyne Hybrid Assisted Limb (HAL) can amplify human strength by a factor of 10 for up to five hours and is aimed to give physical support to people or workers who might need to carry heavy loads.[14] Professor Hugh Herr of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Boston believes that new technological inventions such as these wearable machines are the logical evolution of past inventions which society now takes for granted; “In two decades’ time, I think it will be common to see people using exoskeletons to walk down the street. When the bicycle was first invented, it was so striking a lot of people wanted to try it. I think these inventions will be similar.”[15]

These technological advancements are already more attached to the human body than ever before. Each new invention will help enhance a specific task in life, and once that task is fulfilled by a specific technological apparatus, there need be advancement for consumerism to continue. Therefore technology will have to become better, smaller, even more attached to the human body as not to get in the way; eventually the only next-best-thing remaining will be to merge the technology with the organic and realise Baudrillard’s prediction. Cyborgs are already present in the modern world in extreme circumstances such as amputee patients, but it can only be a matter of time until this reality becomes a matter of personal choice, the latest fashion statement.

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[1]Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation (Michigan: University of Michigan Press, 1994), 75.
[2]Ibid.
[3]Donna Haraway, “A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Social-Feminism in the Late Twentieth Century,” in Simians, Cyborgs and Women: The Reinvention of Nature (New York: Routeledge, 1991), 150.
[4]David Bell, Cyberculture Theorists: Manuel Castells and Donna Haraway (London and New York: Routledge, 2008), 100-101.
[5]Haraway, “A Cyborg Manifesto”, 149.
[6]Claire Sponsler, “Cyberpunk and the Dilemmas of the Postmodern Narrative: The Example of William Gibson,” Contemporary Literature 33, no. 4 (1992): 631, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1208645.
[7]As explained in William Gibson Sprawl Trilogy Glossary http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sprawl_trilogy
[8]Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation, 75.
[9]Victor Margolin, “Politics of the Artificial,” Leonardo 28, no. 5 (1995): 350, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1576217.
[10]William Gibson, Neuromancer (London: HarperCollins Voyager, 1995), 36.
[11]Ibid., 37.
[12]Haraway, “A Cyborg Manifesto”, 151.
[13]Ed Chipperfield, “Superhuman”, BBC Focus, Issue 215, May 2010, 32.
[14]Ibid., 33.
[15]Ibid.

Even Better than the Real Thing? ~ Introduction

Humanity’s relationship with science and technology is rather elusive. Human minds have developed and shaped science and technology as we know these disciplines today, but arguably science and technology have equally shaped and allowed humanity to progress to its current condition. The relationship appears to be a symbiotic one. Prehistoric inventions such as the wheel, weapons and utensils helped make certain difficult tasks much easier for a species which was considerably vulnerable in the wild. Scientific study has allowed for medicine to keep sustaining human life further. Humans constantly develop science and technology in order to make human existence less burdensome. The continual merging of science and technology has given birth to a new signifier; techno-science. Donna Haraway, a feminist theorist who was extremely influential to the beginnings of cyberculture theory, regards the term techno-science as that “which mimes the implosion of science and technology” and thus “designates dense nodes of human and non-human actors that are brought into alliance by the material, social, and semiotic technologies through which what will count as nature and as matters of fact will get constituted.”[1] Therefore techno-science indicates that not only have the individual fields of science and technology consolidated, but that they have also become inseparable from human.

It is evident that today more than ever before, society is burdened by the very entities that were meant to set it free. Philosopher and literary theorist Jean-François Lyotard questions postmodern society in relation to science and technology in his book The Inhuman; a collection of similar themed essays first published in 1988. In an essay titled Rewriting Modernity Lyotard argues that;

“Postmodernity is not a new age, but the rewriting of some of the features claimed by modernity, and first of all modernity's claim to ground its legitimacy on the project of liberating humanity as a whole through science and technology.”[2]

Throughout The Inhuman Lyotard seems to suggest that the postmodern condition and the future of humanity are determined by our “capacity to negotiate a more creative, symbiotic, relationship with these technologies.”[3] Humanity must therefore embrace the techno-scientific and “the evolution of technology as part of the essential destiny of the human species.”[4]

This dissertation will explore various postmodern and cyberculture theories in relation to literature and film, regarding how humanity is evolving and changing with its latest techno-scientific creations. Specifically analysing two seminal science-fiction novels - Philip K. Dick’s 1968 novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? and William Gibson’s 1984 novel Neuromancer - this dissertation will firstly discuss how humans are integrating technology with their bodies, and consequently becoming cyborgs. This will lead on to an analysis of how science and technology is being utilised to create humans artificially in laboratories and factories. The second half of this study is dedicated to theories regarding the human in relation to the virtual; specifically exploring the relationship man has with computers and the internet. Ensuing this will be an investigation into the possibility of a future humanity that is autonomous from the physical bodies that presently define human. By exploring these different elements, this dissertation will try shed light onto what the term ‘human’ means in context of our present day techno-scientific existences.
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[1]Donna Haraway, Modest_Witness@Second_Millenium.Female.Man_Meets_OncoMouse: Feminsim and Technoscience (New York: Routledge, 1997), p.50.
[2]Jean-François Lyotard, “Rewriting Modernity,” in The Inhuman: Reflections on Time (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1991), 34.
[3]William Martin, “Re-Programming Lyotard: From the Postmodern to the Posthuman Condition,” Parrhesia 8 (2009):60.
[4]Ibid. 68.

Friday, 30 April 2010

The Office Piece (part 1)

The calendar on my desk glares at me. As it’s the first Monday of the month, I turn over the page to find a new inspirational message that is somehow meant to coerce me into believing that my contribution in this office’s affairs has some sort of cosmic purpose that benefits society. This month I am greeted with the phrase ‘Some people dream of success... while others wake up and work hard at it’. Above this truly sententious line is a picture of a man in profile, walking up a set of stairs. At the foot of the stairs, just a few paces back, is his bed, the sheets pulled back, suggesting that he has only just woken up and is not wasting any time getting on his way to success. This man is suited, carrying a sleek briefcase, a contented smile on his face. This man has a purpose, he is fulfilling his purpose.

Putting aside the fact that this ponce conveniently has the stairs-to-success right next to his bed for a moment, why couldn’t he even be bothered to make his bed before he set off for work? Surely lack of tidiness is detrimental to achieving any level of success. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, I’m sure I remember some line from last year’s calendar stating something along the lines of ‘A tidy desk is a recipe for success’. Of course it’s ok for them to be self-contradictory. See, if I was in the board room with the idiots behind this concoction, I would at least have had the decency to ensure there be some managerial type figure in the picture; an even better suited model standing by the bed, pointing a gun at the twat walking up the stairs. And not some itty bitty hand gun either. A big fuck off shot gun, pointed straight at his head. Oh motivation will be abundant, overflowing perhaps. And above all it will add a touch of honesty to this farce. My eyes shift focus and now it’s the small regimental numbered squares I see. These little numbered boxes believe they can contain the full proceedings of any given day in my life. Well, most days they probably can.

I’ve now been in the office for little over 13 minutes, and I can already feel the little life I woke up with being sucked out of my body. Its as if as soon as I come in, the office stabs a tube into the back of my neck and starts extracting my vitality to power the ever fluorescent angelic white light bulbs above my head. I swear the more drained I feel, the brighter those lights get. Each and every employee who walks through that door, a natural resource to sustain the ravenous beast that is this office. I need my fuel.

The coffee’s hot, but it tastes like shit. This brown, watery, soup. Gets me thinking about the poor fucker who put his heart and soul into producing the sorry batch of beans that are now diluted in my eco-friendly plastic cup. Some third world farmer toiling away in the sweltering heat, the lurid sun beating down on his face while he licks his lips, tasting the salty sweat dripping down his face. Little water, only sun ... no water ... day after bloody day ... unbearable heat ... a lifetime. A lifetime chucked into a piece of shit machine that spits out this ... this steaming misery. Heart and soul indeed.

But I sip this mess, this heart and soul in a cup, while the rest of the office-folk stumble in. We all give each other a smile and nod, the more enthusiastic employee (i.e. not been working in this building as long as the rest of us) will even let out a too-early-for-the-vocal-chords croaky moan, which one can only assume is meant to translate into “Good morning”. I don’t know. He could be saying anything; “Like the tie!”, “Do you need anything from the supply store?”, “I’ve just scratched your car ... the car you’ve spent two whole years of your life moping around this office, saving up for”. The only reaction he is going to get out of me is the nodsmile that fulfils my part in the bullshit production of Mornings at the Office.

One day I think I’ll upset the routine. I’ll put a schism in the mechanism ... so to speak.

“gwrdmrrrng”, he will say.
“Excuse me?”, I shall say, pleasantly I might add.
“ahem ... sorry. Good morning!”, he shall say, more assertively.
“Oh, I see”, I will respond, without reciprocating the greeting.

Slightly confused he will start to shuffle towards his desk. One ... two ...

“Excuse me?”, I’ll call after him.
“Yes?”, he will answer.
“Why is it you presume I would be at all receptive to your poor attempt of unnecessary early morning communication ... you corporate buffoon.”

Alas today, like most days, I can’t be bothered to exert the energy such a scenario would require. I continue to stare at my calendar, counting down the months, the weeks, the days, hours, minutes, seconds ... My coffee is cold now. It still tastes like shit.

Saturday, 24 April 2010

Forbidden Planet: Colonising the ‘Other’ in Deep Space

For better or worse colonisation has formed a large part of the Western World’s historical narrative. We seem to be constantly fascinated by voyage and discovery of new worlds and peoples. And these themes are very much present within the science-fiction/fantasy genre even today; the latest example of this being the current highest grossing movie of all time, Avatar. With its “tendency to (dis)place otherness to a (de)familiarized universe out there”, the sci-fi/fantasy industry “continues to promulgate through its use of the all-too-familiar colonial narrative, a narrative that both sanctions and justifies violence against ‘others’, regardless of their planet of origin”(Gerwell, 2001).

It is evident from the opening lines of 1956 sci-fi masterpiece Forbidden Planet, that colonisation is a major theme within the film.

“In the final decade of the 21st century, men and women in rocket ships landed on the moon. By 2200 A.D., they had reached the other planets of our solar system ... And so at last, mankind began the conquest and colonisation of deep space.”

Forbidden Planet is very much fabricated on the explorative and domesticative colonial narratives; the explorative narrative being simply about discovery and exploration, and the domesticative about making a new world one’s home. Bellerophon, the original starship that Morbius was on, travelled to Planet Altair IV to both discover and domesticate this new planet.

The character of Morbius, who is a philologist - dealing with the study of literary texts and written records in order to determine their meaning - claims that he wishes to remain on Planet Altair IV because he has the opportunity to learn so much from the remains of the ancient native alien race called the Krell. He also has no desire to return to Earth, explaining how he and his wife were “heartbroken” when the original crew wished to return. Yet what he has effectively done is domesticate the foreign terrain to replicate “a Southern California-style high modernist household”(Lerer, 2001), complete with swimming pool. Instead of adapting his lifestyle to respectfully occupy the planet he travelled to, he has adapted the planet to better suit him. This exemplifies the very essence of colonisation; where the colonial leaves their native land to form a new one that is connected to their parent nation.

When the crew of the United Planets Cruiser C-57D lands on planet Altair IV, the first physical contact they have is with Robby the Robot. In many ways Robby is different from his human counterpart, but there is also a lot that is very familiar about him. Robby is a humanoid robot; he has a pair of arms, a pair of legs, a head, a mouth. Furthermore he has human features such as language and humour. All this allows Robby to appear less threatening despite his ‘otherness’. If the C-57D crew were greeted by robots more akin to the Sentinels from The Matrix series, their initial reaction would have probably differed greatly.

On the one hand, Robby is meant to represent a positive side to colonialism, where through voyage and discovery of new worlds and peoples, man is able to learn new information which enables him to create better tools for a better life. But as the film goes on it becomes more and more apparent that all that Robby really is, is a legitimate form of slavery. This is colonial regime in a different reality. Of course there are no moral or ethical issues now because Robby is a robot, mere metal and wire. Morbius is quick to point this out, stating;
“Don’t attribute feeling to him gentlemen. Robby is simply a tool.”

Morbius may describe Robby as a “tool” , but Robby functions just as if he were a slave; he cooks, cleans, tailors Alta’s dresses, and has to do anything else he is told to do. In actual fact he is much better than a human slave because he is more efficient and performs his duties with “absolute selfless obedience”. Robby is even configured in such a way that makes it impossible for him to be harmful to humans. Here a parallel can be drawn to William Shakespeare’s The Tempest, which forms Forbidden Planet’s skeleton narrative: “Where Shakespeare's Caliban verbally and violently counters Prospero's treatment of him, Forbidden Planet ... waters down the enslavement theme, adopts the plot but removes the subjugation of one human by another”(Gerwell, 2001).

Obviously these are not bad things in themselves. Who wouldn’t want a robot to deal with all the mundane chores in such an efficient manner? It is the history of past colonies that reveals darker undertones to an otherwise amusing and very useful machine. Human nature hasn’t changed, man still feels an inclination to govern another being, in this case it is a robot. The fact that this robot is a humanoid one demonstrates how eerily similar this future reality is to its past. The colonised entity is still present here.

Robby the Robot raises another important issue regarding human nature. Robby has the ability to “reproduce identical molecules in any shape or quantity”. Therefore he becomes the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card. If we are running out of natural resources, this no longer remains a problem. We now have Robby the Robot who can synthesize any material, and reproduce it in infinite quantities. Again this shows mankind's inability to adapt themselves to live in a more resourceful way. Instead we have to find ways to alter the world for us.

Considering Forbidden Planet is a science-fiction movie that foretold the Americans moon landing, and introduces a robot with infinite powers, it seems strange that the whole crew of the C-57D starship is made up of only men, as if a future where women hold equal roles in the work force is just inconceivable.

Being the only female character in the film, Morbius’ daughter Altaira is immediately perceived as an ‘other’. But she is also an ‘other’ because she was born on Planet Altair IV, and can therefore be considered as a naturalised Altarian. Hence she has had a very different upbringing than if she were to have been brought up on earth. Her reality and values are different; she dresses in a way that is deemed provocative by the Earth men, she has no inhibitions about her body feeling perfectly comfortable being naked in front of Commander Adams, and she has a quasi-magical affinity with wild animals. And despite Planet Altair being her world, she is the one who is forced to change now that Earth’s visitors have arrived. After catching Lieutenant Farman and Altaira kissing, Commander Adams’ confronts her;

“Don't you understand, Alta? No? Well, look at yourself. You can't dress like that around men, especially not a space wolf like Farman. So for Pete's sake, go home and put on something that'll ... anything.”

This statement makes it clear that in Adams’ eyes, Farman not being able to control his sexual urges is Altaira’s fault. The fact that Adams takes a moral high ground with Altaira indicates that he feels superior to her. Indeed it becomes evident that Adams hardly sees Altaira as human;

“There’s no feelings, no emotions ... Nothing human would ever enter your mind.”

Placing all the blame on Altaira, and making her feel as if she is inferior to him seems to intimidate her. She decides to conform to his ways, asking Robby to make her an “eye-proof” dress that will not excite Adams and his “super-perfect physical specimens” . But in doing this she automatically gives up her ‘otherness’. This is symbolically demonstrated through the incident where a tiger that was previously affectionate towards Altaira, attempts to attack her. Altaira does not understand, exclaiming; “He didn’t recognise me. He would’ve killed me. Why?” Because of these events Altaira becomes a homogenised 1950’s American housewife calling “darling, darling” after her man. She is the one who has to change to suit the colonials. Her ‘otherness’ is completely colonised.



The ancient race of the Krell could possibly offer two slightly differing critiques on colonisation. The first critique would be to look upon the Krell as a symbolic warning for the human race. Throughout the film Morbius speaks and describes the Krell and their culture as being very similar to ours, i.e. human; the Krell were the governing race of their planet, they had literary texts, music, and technology. Morbius even describes the Krell as being an “all but divine race”. Again there is an evident parallel to man’s status on Earth, being the children of God. Morbius' study explains that by taking their science too far, the Krell ended up destroying themselves by unleashing the “monsters from the id”. Their greatest achievement was what finally ended them. Morbius’ decision to blow up the planet in the film's climax could therefore be seen as an act of saving the human race. A warning that we should stop taking science and progress too far because it will be the end of us, just as it was for the Krell.

The second interpretaion would be to see the Krell and their planet as the ‘other’ that could not be colonised by humans. In this light the Krell are far from being symbolical of man, in fact they become complete seperate entities. Morbius calling them a “race” would emphasise this ‘otherness’. Consequntly, Morbius’ decision to blow up all that remains of the Krell (all their great scientific achievements, their unique history and culture) becomes a very disquieting decision. Again the human race becomes the centre of the universe. Because we are unable to keep away from the powerful discoveries of the Krell (which are destructive to us), the only alternative we can conceive is to destroy them. Therefore a repeated pattern once again emerges. Man refuses to adapt himself to a situation, instead the situation must be adapted for man.

However the implications of this scenario, are extremely concerning as Forbidden Planet gives evidence of other intelligent species within its fantastic narrative. Planet Altair IV being destroyed by a human being insinuates a conceited belief that because humans were unsuccesful in colonising the ‘other’, no other species in the universe can have their chance. As Greg Gerwell excellently puts it in his article Colonising the Universe; “If earthlings cannot colonize the planet, the film's message seems to be, then call it sour grapes - no one will”(Gerwell, 2001).

Bibliography

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

Sterile Civilisation: a reading of T.S. Eliot's 'The Waste Land'


World War I is infamous for eradicating an entire generation of men, men who gave up their lives to fight for their countries. Many had believed the war would be over within the year but instead it went on for four gruesome years. The reasons for so much incessant death became nonsensical. While the world had definitely progressed in terms of science and technology, for many, civilisation seemed to be in a state of regression. Modernist poet T.S. Eliot’s poem The Waste Land is one of the greatest artistic reflections on civilisation post-WW1. It can be seen as a genealogical challenge; a “transvaluation of all values”(Nietzsche). In The Waste Land Eliot draws upon, and alludes to various myths and literature that have shaped humanity, perhaps in an attempt to reassess humanity; humanity that he has lost all faith in.

The Fisher King is perhaps the most central character in The Waste Land. The Fisher King is traditionally wounded in such a way that makes him impotent. His impotence is reflected in his kingdom, which is reduced to a barren wasteland. Eliot links the myth of the Fisher King to the legend of the Holy Grail, which also involves a quest for healing a barren kingdom. This myth is fundamentally a story about regeneration; once the king is healed so is the barren land. The Fisher King, who is first introduced during the tarot card reading epidsode in Part II A Game of Chess, “becomes the unifying device by which [Eliot] tells the fortune of the modern world”. The ancient myths help Eliot demonstrate how modern civilisation has become sterile and impotent, the barreness of mankind is reflected in his surroundings. The physical surroundings reflecting the inner core of humanity is an explicit theme throughout The Waste Land.

One of the main symbols of sterility in many of Eliot’s poems is the urban city. The city, which usually represents the pinnacle of human achievement (architecture, culture, and industry) becomes something which is decaying and is ultimately meaningless. In The Waste Land the city is described as being an “unreal city” , a phrase which is repeated in the poem. The “unreal city” symbolises a sense of it being neither completely dead, but not really alive either. The “brown fog”, a reference to Dickens’ London, that lingers over the city feels just as if it is its very breath. The colour brown insinuates pollution and decay. A parallel can be drawn between The Waste Land’s “brown fog" and the “yellow fog” of Eliot’s earlier poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. But whereas Prufrock’s “yellow smoke” seems to actively move about the city and quietly suffocate any life there, the “brown fog” feels much more encompassing, as if it has completely taken over the city and remains there in order to not let any life get through its impenetrable gloom.

It becomes evident that the city in The Waste Land is much more than just the physical urban landscape. The city is also its inhabitants and their way of life. Just like the city, the people seem to be in a state of in-betweenness. The voice in the 4th stanza of Part I The Burial of the Dead, remarks that he “had not thought death had undone so many”. These inhabitants are the undead roaming about meaninglessly. Their sterile way of life reflected in their kingdom, just like the Fisher King myth. But unlike the narrating voice, the crowd “do not share his misgivings about the Waste Land; they are not conscious”.

“And each man fixed his eyes before his feet/Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,”

These undead inhabitants of the city appear to be stuck in a perpetual state of empty ritual. The repeated use of the verb ‘flow’ indicates that they have no choice but to move about the city in a crowd which they are unable to break away from. Empty ritual is one of The Waste Land’s recurring themes. The first half of Part II A Game of Chess, depicts a wealthy lady in her house. Through her neurotic speech, which often becomes meaningless, she asks the question; “What shall we ever do?" Her answer to this resumes a sense of inevitability, a list of more empty ritual;

“The hot water at ten./And if it rains, a closed car at four./And we shall play a game of chess,”

Life is now defined by meaningless tasks, and there is no progression from day to day. A resounding lack of purpose emanates in the Lady’s talk, her relationship to her lover, and her very surroundings. The whole house becomes a microcosm of the city. Even the wealthy and cultured cannot escape the doom of modern life; “Are you alive, or not?” All the literary allusions in this scene to Shakespeare and to classical Greek myth, which usually represent such greatness of human achievement, now feel sterile and meaningless. Against the backdrop of World War 1, what difference does any artistic accomplishment or knowledge make towards humanity?

Eliot’s disdain for this empty modern life is perhaps culminated in the line “when the human engine waits”, in Part III The Fire Sermon. Humans here have literally become machines, they have lost their humanity. Finally Eliot destroys the city which seems to encapsulate the reason why modern life has lost all sense of meaning;

“Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air/Falling tower/Jerusalem Athens Alexandria/ Vienna London/Unreal”

London becomes another city in a list. A city that has reached its peak, and is therefore destined to collapse. In this light it might appear that the modern city is Eliot’s real wasteland. Its destruction could be an indication that Eliot believes we must return to a more natural way of life. The theme was further explored in Eliot's later poem The Four Quartets.

Another theme Eliot uses to demonstrate sterility in modern civilisation is through his depiction of love and relationships, or more correctly, lack of. Love is completely absent in The Waste Land. Once again the Fisher King’s impotence seems to be reflected in modern man’s inability to be in a relationship that creates life. One of the first clear indicators of this is shown in the second half of Part II. There is a clear juxtaposition between Albert who is fighting the war, witnessing the death of hundreds of soldiers everyday, and his wife Lil’s deliberate use of pills to abort one of her pregnancies. The speaking voice asks the question;

“What you get married for if you don’t want children?”

While this seems to be quite a derogatory approach to marriage, in the light of a war that is wiping out an entire generation of people, marriage and childbirth become fundamental in regenerating humanity. Yet Eliot chooses to include a preganancy that Lil “nearly died of”, an abortion, and a husband who only wants “a good time” from his wife. This demonstrates a complete breakdown in marriage, it has become meaningless, devoid of the very thing it is built on in the traditional sense; love and family.

This theme is not exclusive to this scene either. There is the episode of the merchant Mr. Euginides, who offers the narrating voice “a weekend at the Metropole”. The manner of his approach is crass. The homosexual relationship immediately sterile since preganancy is impossible. Also the episode of the secretary and her lover. The sexual intimacy becomes an assault, and she accepts the situation with “indifference”. Both of these depictions are based solely on meaningless carnal lust, in both cases the lust is only one sided. Lovemaking has become completely sterile.

Water is usually used to symobolise ideas of revival and rebirth within various cultures and societies. In Christianity for example, water is used in baptism to indicate cleansing of sin and new life, by which a person is admitted into the Catholic Church. However water has a much more ambiguous meaning within The Waste Land. On the one hand there is a definite desire for water throughout the poem. This is perhaps most explicit in the second stanza of Part V What The Thunder Said, where the whole stanza becomes a desperate monologue about the need for water;

“If there were only water amongst the rock”

Water here becomes the solution. The narrating voice is dying of thirst and needs water to survive. He is completely consumed with the need for water to quench his thirst. Given that water symbolises revival, this monologue takes on another stance. The voice could therefore be symbolically desperate for purpose that can only be found through spiritual enlightenment. With each “drip drop” the narrating voice seems to be losing his sanity more and more. And yet water still does not come. Just as the “brown fog” seems to reflect the people of modernity, so does the thunder in this scene;

“But dry sterile thunder without rain”

This line makes the situation even more desperate, for this is not a clear sky, but one that hints at a storm. Through this Eliot may be attempting to show how sterility has premeated the spiritual realm. Because man is so caught up in modern civilisation that is so far removed from a sense of spirituality, when he does eventually turn to spirituality, no solace can be given. Hence while water is still felt to be something positive in this scene, it now also signifies a more negative aspect ... sterility. In The Waste Land “[w]hen the lack of water is felt, it assumes a positive character; but for the most part it is negative or something to be feared”. This can be perceived as Eliot intentionally inverting the vegetation myth, which consequently sets a tone of fear for the regeneration of life.

Indeed one of Madame Sosostris’ most prominent prophecies is; “Fear death by water”, and many an instance can be found where death is induced by water. The direct referencee taken from Shakespeare’s The Tempest is quoted twice throughout the poem; “Those are pearls that were his eyes”. This is an obvious reference to a watery grave. The closing line of Part II alludes to Ophelia’s farewell, Ophelia who drowns in a brook. Part IV, Death By Water, seems to fulfil Madame Sosostris’ prophecy, depicting Phlebas the Phoenician who has drowned. All these instances emphasise a sense that the very water which is associated with regeneration, has now become the predominant destructive force throughout. Knowing that Eliot makes various references to Biblical episodes, it is possible to read The Waste Land as a modern version of the story of Noah’s Ark. But whereas before, God consumed humanity in a worldwide deluge, now He is seeking out everyone individually in order that modern civilisation may realise how far south we have moved from any sense of spirituality and meaning. Therefore the very entity that can renew and give life becomes that which ends life, and is therefore sterile.

Ultimately when the rain does come there is a slight sense of relief; “Then a damp gust/Bringing rain”. But rain only comes when the protagonist enters the chapel in the mountains. This location seems to be as far removed from modern civilisation as possible. It is also noteworthy that just before this scene there is the depiction of the cities being destroyed. Keeping with the Noah’s Ark allusion, it feels as if God, or a god-like figure, is reaching the end of cleansing the world from modernity. The ultimate testament to this being in the line;

“London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down”

It is not hard to imagine the bridge, which is such a characteristic feature of London, crumbling and being swept away by the river. Perhaps revival and regeneration can finally take place now.

Although Eliot reflects upon the sterility of modern civilisation, he doesn’t really offer a sense of hope until the very end of The Waste Land. Once again we see the Fisher King, fishing with the “arid plain behind” him, perhaps a symbol, sterility is now a thing of the past. He then asks the question;“Shall I at least set my lands in order?" Following this is a series of fragmented multi-lingual lines, their significance almost impossible to comprehend. They seem to have a mystical effect, as if they are part of an incantation. This would correlate well with the Grail myth, since here the Fisher King, “the protagonist in The Waste Land, as both hero and king, utters an incantation designed to bring about the restoration of life in himself and his environment”. This interpretation does take a more optimistic stance. Indeed it is difficult for many a reader to simply accept that it is impossible for civilisation to recover from choices made in the past. And yet it may just be us, the reader, crying desperately for some relief, clutching on to any fragment of hope that is possible to interpret, like the voice in the mountains crying for water. And maybe for Eliot there is no resolve, maybe all we have left “[h]ere is no water but only rock”.

Bibliography

• Asher, Kenneth. T.S. Eliot and Ideology. Cambridge University Press. 1998.
• Castle, Gregory. The Blackwell Guide to Literary Theory. Oxford; Blackwell, 2007.
• Eliot¸ T.S. “The Waste Land” & “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”, in Collected Poems 1909 – 1962. London; Faber and Faber, 1963.
• Veeser, H. (ed.). The New Historicism. New York; Routeledge, 1989.


Online

• Creekmore, Betsy B. “The Tarot Fortune in The Waste Land”, ELH, Vol. 49, No. 4 (1982): 908-928. In JSTOR [database online]. 12 March 2010.
• Fowler, D.C. “The Waste Land: Mr. Eliot’s Fragments”, College English, Vol. 14, No. 4 (Jan, 1953): 234-5 pp. 234-5. In JSTOR [database online]. 12 March 2010.
• Williamson, George. “The Structure of The Waste Land”, Modern Philology, Vol. 47, No. 3 (Feb, 1950): 191-206. In JSTOR [database online]. 12 March 2010.