ENL 10C: Manliness and Repetition in “The Blue Hotel”

Jolene Patricia Brown

Dr. M. Stratton

ENL 10C

30 April 2010

Manliness and Repetition in “The Blue Hotel”

In Stephen Crane’s short story “The Blue Hotel” there is a depiction of the relationships between men that calls into the question the sincerity of connections between men in times of stress. The story itself is simple: a man running a hotel brings three patrons from the train station to spend the night during an intense snow storm, and the consequences of their brief interaction. The outcome is far from simple and, in fact, illustrates an inherent mistrust between men who struggle for control, which is amplified when placed in unfamiliar surroundings. The story is a criticism of modern hospitality between men represented by the show of the hotel owner for the sake of reputation, and the misunderstandings that occur when communication is avoided for the sake of manliness. By using repetition, Crane makes a statement of the circularity, and futility, of over-exerted manliness in situations where survival is the most important goal: much like the repetition of certain phrases in the story, the society of men repeats their own follies of misguided assertions of power and control thereby bringing tragedy on themselves, and others, that otherwise could have been avoided.

The Palace Hotel is an actor on the stage of Fort Romper, Nebraska. The hotel “then, was always screaming an howling in a way that made the dazzling winter landscape…seem only a gray swampish hush” (376) which prompted the passengers, as a chance audience, to be “overcome at the sight” to which they “expressed shame, pity, [and] horror, in a laugh” (377). The owner of the hotel, Pat Scully has painted the hotel precisely for this reason: to attract the attention of the passengers who will spend their time, and their money, in his hotel. Scully himself is putting on a show for his guests, creating an environment that is hospitable in order to promote continued growth of his business. It is clear from the beginning of the story that Scully’s hospitality is an act put on for the benefit of business: “It was notable that throughout this series of small ceremonies the three travelers were made to feel that Scully was very benevolent. He was conferring great favors upon them. He handed the towel from one to another with an air of philanthropic impulse” (377). The passage states that the travels “were made to feel” and that Scully had “an air” is suspicious because it is not claimed by the speaker directly that Scully is either benevolent or a philanthropist. Instead, these qualities of the host are presented as an act; Scully, like his hotel, are putting on a show for the passengers who have sought refuge from the overwhelming storm outside.

The significance of “acting” in this story is far-reaching, as all the characters are putting on an act, though some are more convincing than others. The Swede is also putting on an act, like the host of the hotel, as described by the speaker: “His eyes continued to rove from man to man…he said that some of these Western communities were very dangerous…It was plain that the demonstration had no meaning to the others” (378). The Swede in this passage is sizing up the men around him, evaluating the dangers he believes to exist in “Western communities” and presents a “demonstration”—an outward show of manliness with his “wink and laugh” (378). The Swede winks again on the following page, initiating a repetition of both gestures and phrases that continue throughout the story, creating a cyclical pattern of behavior that only escalates the show of the men inside the hotel as they continually struggle for control of the situation. The character of the Swede suffers greatly for his over-confidence by cutting himself off from the companionship of the other men in the hotel.

The repetition of gestures and phrases creates a loose camaraderie between the cowboy, the Easterner, Scully and his son, Johnnie, but serves only to isolate the Swede who continues to assert his own manliness as a defense against the men he believes want to kill him. A turning point in the story occurs on page 385; in this passage Scully becomes a metaphor for all men, as even his speech takes on an almost universal quality becoming a “combination of Irish brogue and idiom, Western twang and idiom, and scraps of curiously formal diction taken from story-books and newspapers” (384). His speech at this moment asserts his control over his hotel through repetition:

“What do I keep? What do I keep? What do I keep?” he demanded, in a voice of thunder… “I keep a hotel,” he shouted. “A hotel, do you mind? A guest under my roof has sacred privileges. He is to be intimidated by none...” He wheeled suddenly upon the cowboy and the Easterner. “Am I right?”

“Yes, Mr. Scully,” said the cowboy, “I think you’re right.”

“Yes, Mr. Scully,” said the Easterner, “I think you’re right.” (385)

What is significant about this passage is that Scully claims to provide a haven that is free of intimidation, yet he intimidates his guests into agreeing with him. He asserts himself at this moment as the man in control of the situation, but instead comes across as just as intimidating and irrational as the Swede; the cycle of intimidation and the struggle for power escalates into the fight between Johnnie and the Swede, and ultimately the death of the Swede. Scully repeats the word “keep” four times, which signals to the audience (the reader as well as the men in the hotel) that he intends to recover his claim to authority that has been called into question by the men who seek to throw one of this guests out of the hotel. Though it seems strictly a business decision, the outburst is more than that as it is a reassertion of his manliness—his power and control as the owner and host—threatened by his son and his guests.

It is not until the final scene that we are presented with the definition of manliness, realizing that their manliness was only an act and that there were no “men” in the hotel that night. The Easterner explains to the cowboy: “Johnnie was cheating. I saw him. I know. I saw him. And I refused to stand up and be a man…Usually there are from a dozen to forty women really involved in every murder, but in this case it seems to be only five men…” (396). Here the idea of masculinity is made clear as the Easterner not only denies himself the role of a man, but he also compares the four men in the hotel that night to a large group of women who, he claims, are “usually…involved in every murder.” To be a man, by this definition, is not to commit murder, for that is the role of a woman, and a man instead would have stood up for the Swede; would have pointed out that Johnnie was cheating; would not have encouraged the fighting that ended in the death of a man. True manliness is not power or control over a situation: instead is the power and control of oneself with regards to a situation, and making the right decision based on what is right and not what is dictated by others. This is significant about the repetition in the story: the men fall into the trap of repeating the mistakes of one another instead of making their own decisions.

The combination of “putting on a show” of manliness and the constant repetition in this story proves deadly. None of the men shows true character, instead choosing to look to each other for guidance for behavior, continuing the escalation of the power struggle throughout the story. If even one man had walked away from the fight things might have turned out differently. The hotel itself, a painted actor on the stage of Fort Romper, Nebraska, will continue its show as the men inside will continue theirs. Manliness becomes a form of crowd assimilation instead of individuality, which is precisely the problem being addressed in the story.

PHI 162: “The Problem of Scientific Knowledge through Demonstration” (according to Aristotle)

Jolene Patricia Brown

Dr. M.V. Wedin

PHI 162: Aristotle

27 April 2010

The Problem of Scientific Knowledge through Demonstration

Aristotle claims that scientific knowledge can only arise in the situation that one can demonstrate what they know by presenting the knowledge in a coherent form with specific rules. In this way, his definition of scientific knowledge can be compared to a syllogism: it takes two true premises, argued together, to be able to claim new true information in the conclusion of the argument in the form of the syllogism. Like a syllogism, scientific knowledge consists of true claims that one must understand, and have seen demonstrated, taken together in an argument to be a conclusion that consists of scientific knowledge. He writes:

…it is necessary for demonstrative understanding in particular to depend on things which are true and primitive and immediate and more familiar than and prior to and explanatory of the conclusion… (71b.20)

In the above quote he states four dependencies that must be necessary for understanding of scientific knowledge to occur: a premise must be true, primitive and immediate, more familiar and prior and explanatory. These dependences are important because without them a conclusion would suffer from inconsistency, false claims, and a lack of demonstration that would be necessary for knowledge to be obtained.

Each of the four dependencies represents some form of demonstration in and of itself. The truth dependency, the first one on his list, is that which claims that the premises must be true in order for the conclusion to be true: truth in the premises demonstrates the relationship of truth in the premises to the truth contained in the conclusion, rendering the information in the conclusions as true. The second dependency, primitive and intermediate, refers to the relation of the premises to the conclusion for the information in the premises must precede the information in the conclusion or otherwise entail the conclusion. It would not be possible for a premise that that contains information that is, for instance, chronologically later than the information contained in the conclusion. This dependency demonstrates the relationship of the information in the premises to the information contained in the conclusion and the importance of entailment and logical following as going from premise to conclusion in the course of the argument. The third dependency is more familiar and prior which refers to the relationship between the information and the individual who knows it. One must be familiar with the information contained in the premises in order to use it to make a claim about that information in a new way, such as in a conclusion. “Being prior and more familiar” is that which is “nearer to perception”—something that can been demonstrated to the individual in such a way as to produce knowledge, which can in turn be used as premises to form even more knowledge in the conclusion (72a.1-5). The last dependency is that the premises must be explanatory, meaning that the information contained in the premises must explain the information contained within the conclusion, thereby demonstrating the connection between the relevance of the information in the argument.

The problem with Aristotle’s claim of demonstration as a means of obtaining scientific knowledge is that there is a regress of circularity that occurs in the rigorousness of providing demonstration for all knowledge beginning with the premises that precede the conclusion and extending back to the “first premises.” If Aristotle is correct, there will be no “first claims” that would be found underlying all other claims leading to a conclusion: if there were it would create a problem because either those first claims would not meet the criteria of the dependencies, or one would have to continue their demonstration in a circular argument that would quickly become non-demonstrable. Aristotle makes an argument against the circularity of knowledge by stating that “if demonstration must depend on what is prior and more familiar…it is impossible for the same things at the same time to be prior and posterior to the same things” (72b.25-30). We must remember that being “prior and more familiar” demonstrates the relationship of the information to the individual, and in this way Aristotle is correct: for an argument to be circular, then the individual would both have to know and not know the premises simultaneously in order for the argument to complete itself in a reciprocal fashion. Since the ability to simultaneously know and not know is impossible, the idea that all arguments are circular is not an option.

Instead of pressing for more justification of demonstration as the only means of scientific knowledge, Aristotle then explores the idea that the immediate, or that the dependency between the premises and the conclusion, is not necessarily demonstrable and that instead knowledge at a certain point can be obtained through familiarity by definition (72b.20-25). Aristotle earlier defines “definition” as a “posit…but not a supposition” (72a.20), meaning that unlike a supposition that “assumes either of the parts of a contradiction”—like an assumption—a definition gives information that one must assume but that does not nullify either part of a contradiction. Instead, a definition outlines the meaning of a premise in such a way that it maintains truth, and allows the formation of new information in the conclusion thereby creating new premises for argument: the first “first claims” needed to source scientific knowledge. In claiming that it is possible for some premises, namely those that are immediate, to originate from definitions, Aristotle almost convinces the reader of the definition as a solution to the problem of infinite regress, but even that falls short. The problem with the idea of definition is thus stated:

Since one should both be convinced of and know the object by having a deduction of the sort we call a demonstration, and since this is the case when these things on which the deduction depends are the case, it is necessary not only to be already aware of the primitives…but actually be better aware of them. (72a.25)

By this explanation it is not sufficient that a definition might allow a premise to exist as a primitive, since it is necessary for an individual to be already aware of the premises, but “better aware” of them than the conclusion itself. Since it would be hard to take the definition of a very abstract idea and construct an argument such that the conclusion would not only include information from both definitions, but also create a new idea that is concrete seems impossible. A definition would need to be so well-known by the individual that it would become another premise that would need another demonstration in order to prove all the points of the definition in such a way as to create a conclusion, leading back to the original circular pattern of demonstration needed for scientific knowledge.

Unhappy with the options he presents about the source of knowledge Aristotle instead rejects all accounts, and claims there must be another way for one to achieve knowledge. His options as they stand are to concede to circular reasoning, resort skepticism, or have an infinite explanation that no one would ever be able to conceive. None of these options present a case for scientific knowledge as he would like to accept—in demonstration—so instead of claiming one over the others, he rejects all of them as false, and by doing so implies the option of something unknown even to him: “…hence, since there are few such things in demonstrations, it is evident that it is both empty and impossible to say that demonstration is reciprocal and that because of this there can be demonstration of everything” (73a.15-20). By rejecting all those things he denies are the sources of truth he does not explicitly state what it is that is the source of truth, and instead makes an oblique claim that there is something else that is unknown at this point that is the source. Scientific knowledge, therefore, can be had, but we reach a point in demonstrating the truth of it that knowledge itself remains source less.

ENL 10C: The Use of Metaphor in Pound’s “In the Station of the Metro”"

Jolene Patricia Brown

Dr. M. Stratton

ENL 10C

9 April 2010

The Use of Metaphor in Pound’s “In the Station of the Metro”

Ezra Pound’s poem “In a Station of the Metro” uses metaphor to assist description in the poem that might otherwise be limited by the imagist ideal of “strict verbal economy” (Mikics 152). By using an extended metaphor, Pound is able to give the maximum amount of images to the reader with the minimum number words. The content of the poem consists of two major metaphors: the first being between the station of the metro and the “wet, black bough”; the second being the comparison of the faces of the crowd and the petals on the bough. The metaphor conveys maximum imagery with minimal words, and it extends from the title and continues through each line in a continuous flow of linked ideas. Each line changes the image in the mind of the reader to form a more complete idea of what exactly the speaker is seeing: a description of what the speaker sees with his eyes in an urban metro station and turns it to what his mind interprets that vision.

Metaphors play an important role in the form of the poem by allowing the speaker to give a maximum number of images while using the least number of words necessary to convey what the speaker sees. In the first metaphor the metro is indirectly compared to a “wet, black bough” and one can imagine the station and the metro consisting of a long, well-lit tunnel with shining tracks, and people peering from windows that reflect the light. The wetness is the light of the station; the black the shadows created by that same light. The urban, man-made metro station is thus transformed into an object of nature. This same transition is what happens in the second metaphor as well: the crowd of human faces on the metro is transformed into a row of petals with only the use of a trope and a semi-colon.

The semi-colon at the end of the first line of the poem offers the reader the comparison between the contents of the title and the first line, and the final line of the poem, to be juxtaposed side-by-side as equal images in the mind of the reader. As a continued sentence, instead of one broken up by a period, the metaphor is given more weight; the last line of the poem is offered as a parting thought to send the reader away with the final image birthed by the vision of the metro. In using metaphor, Pound gives “two ideas for the price of one…offer[ing] the reader a bonus of meaning” (Mikics 181) all while realizing his goal of using only the most necessary words. The metaphors he uses show the reader what he sees, yet maintains a sense of reader imagination: the reader is allowed imaginary freedom without the extra description, while the speaker maintains the control of what is being described. Both freedoms lie in the use of metaphor, which turns an otherwise ordinary metro station into a wet, petal-laden bough.

Works Cited

Mikics, David. A New Handbook of Literary Terms. London: Yale University Press, 2007. Print.