The Maya TreeLiberal Arts Review

Vol. 2, 2011

Lahore

Beaconhouse National University3C Zafar Ali Road, Gulberg V Lahore, Pakistanthemayatree@gmail.com

Copyright © 2011 Beaconhouse National University. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior permission of Beaconhouse National University.

Printed by Le Topical Printers, Lahore.

Cover and layout designed by Tasmia Khan.

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Contents

Foreword iiiAcknowledgements vPROSE

1. Of All the Matches Made in Heaven Hajra Ilahi 32. Misplaced Time Mavra Tanveer 63. Meant for Me Haroon Qureshi 84. Human Consciousness Transport Technology: The Inner Evacuation Aneesh Lohani 105. Faraz Hira Chaudary 136. The Three Winners Mahey Noor 157. Living America Sana Tanveer Malik 19 Guest Feature8. Sorcerer Faulad Drug Glutton Musharraf Ali Farooqi 26

POETRY

9. Orange Mavra Tanveer 4110. Pantoum: Bane of the Mistress Sana Tanveer 4211. The Shroud Hera Naguib 4412. Rockstar Grime Palvashay Sethi 4513. Let’s Sway Sahar Haq 47 Guest Feature14. leave-taking: arizona patio Ilona Yusuf 49

CRITICAL DISCOURSE

15. Your Consciousness is Part of the Text: This is Magical Realism Haroon Qureshi 53 16. Bearable Heaviness of Being (in Love) in Milan Kundera’s World Sarosh Altaf 6417. Magical Realism’s Extremities: Kafka’sTrial and Neruda’s “Obiligation” Hera Naguib 7418. Theorizing the Political Anatomy of Pakistan: A Discursive Analysis of Power, Culture & Politics Mavra Tanveer 94 Guest Feature19. The Nature of Shakespearean Tragedy Ira Hasan 108

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Foreword

The Maya Tree is a student-fuelled effort that began in 2008. The work, the energy, the time comes from them. There is certainly faculty guidance but little interference. The bulk of the stories and poems are from creative writing classes. The papers in the Critical Discourse sec-tionreflectsomeofthebestacademicworkproducedoverthecourseoftheyearfrombothBA (Hons.) and Masters students. The Department of Liberal Arts of BNU is justly proud of its support for creative and critical writing, believing that independent judgment and the development of a critical faculty are crucial aids to maturity. Too many students in Pakistan are taught to repeat parrot-like the opinions of others. The wisdom of our elders of history and time should not be discarded but every intelligent individual must build on the past. At DLA,studentsarehelpedtofindtheirownvoice,tocomeupwithnewinterpretations,todebateandevaluate,andfinallytodecideforthemselvestheissuestheybelievearerelevantto their lives. The Maya Tree is the end product of what our students are thinking and feeling. We hope you enjoy their work. If along the way you appreciate and understand their concerns we will have done our job.

Dr. Ira HasanEditor-in-Chief

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Acknowledgements

This second issue of The Maya Tree carries the additional sub-title of Liberal Arts Review,whichreflectsourvisionandmissiona little lessopaquely thanwhen theillusory Tree stands alone. For helping us tread softly in this direction we are happilyand deeply indebted to our guest contributors: Musharraf Ali Farooqi, for sharing a chapter from his epic translation of the Hoshruba; Ilona Yusuf, for her beautiful poem “leave-taking”; and Dr. Ira Hasan, our editor-in-chief, for obliging our request to contribute the critical discourse guest feature: a chapter from her doctoral dis-sertation on Shakespearean Tragedy, “The Fall of Man”. The students’ poetry, proseand critical discourse featured in this volume has made its way to the Tree through university-wide calls for submission; short-listing by student-faculty peer-review boards; faculty-student conferences; and extensive editing and proof reading loops.Our immense gratitude is also due, therefore, to our student contributors, and the fac-ulty and students involved in peer-reviews and conferences.

Editor in ChiefDr. Ira Hassan

Editors

ProseHera Naguib

Sidra NadeemMavra TanveerJawad Haroon

Critical DiscourseHaroon Qureshi

Haseeb AsifKyla Pasha

Jawad HaroonKhadija Hassan Malik

Jahanzeb Aslam

The Second Maya Tree Student Council

Haroon QureshiRida Khalid

Ali Afzal

Haseeb AsifSumaya Makhdoom

and for design & layout

Faculty AdvisorsJawad Haroon

Kyla Pasha

Ailya WaqarNoman KhanTasmia Khan

PoetryHaroon Qureshi

Haseeb AsifKyla Pasha

Jawad HaroonKhadija Hassan Malik

Prose 3

Of All Matches Made in HeavenHajra Ilahi

Brightlights,cameraflashes,piñacoladas.Mingledvoicesswirlaboutmeuntiltheyriseupinacrescendo,righttothetopoftheflimsyochretent.Therearepeopleeverywhere.Womeninflashyjewelleryandflab-revealingsaris,meninstarchedshirts,childrendodgingharried waiters. It is indeed an auspicious event. All focus is on the bride and groom, sitting prettyonapetal-strewnstage.Thegroomgrins,ratherwolfishly,forthecamera.Thebridelowers her head, as any decent girl would. Family, friends and many others cluster around thetwo,laughing,sighing,sniffling.Quiteacharmingtableaureally.Everyoneistalkingatthe same time; it’s the only way to get heard. Yes, the bride looks stunning, yes, the groom’s family seems rich, and yes, the décor is bloody fantastic. All prerequisites for the perfect marriage seem to be in place. Another over-the-top wedding, true Lahori style. An extrava-ganza like one the city sees every other night. An overly excited middle-aged woman in pea-cock green silk jostles me. Here, you have to be aggressive about what you want; murmured “excuse me’s” just won’t cut it. “Doesn’t it seem like a dream come true, a match made in heaven?” she gestures towards the stage while gushing unabashedly at me. Can this lady not think beyond clichés? I pretend I haven’t heard. I never had any fairytale dreams. I knew nothing extraordinary would happen to me. Why would it? Four months ago, there was another wedding much like this one, another match made supposedly in heaven. Except at that wedding, I was the bride. It was obviously an ar-ranged marriage which, according to my mother, is the best kind there is. I was all of twenty-one years old. I wasn’t glowing or nervous or sad. I was nothing a bride should be, because I knew nothing wonderful could happen to me. “A neurosurgeon! Congratulations!” guests had shouted in my general direction. Salman had towered above me at six foot two inches; he had worn a baby pink tie—a poor tribute to the colour I was wearing. His feet had tapped to the rhythm of the pounding dholak. He had whispered to me at random moments through my sheer, stone-encrusted dupatta, which separated us. The Lord alone knows what he said becauseitwasimpossibletohearinthatdinofvoices,butheseemedsatisfiedwithmylackof response. After the guests had left I watched him devour a bowl of halwa with obvious relish. We were unsuited in many ways. “Hi sweetie! How are you?” A woman in butter yellow pounces on me. I vague-ly rememberherasoneofmymanydistantcousins.Superficialair-kisses follow;weagree that we should “meet up sometime.” She sees another familiar face and takes off in a flurry of chiffon, no doubt after having assessed the value ofmy eaings. It’swhat all fashionable Lahoris do, no need to be offended. The worst thing about these functions is that they just drag on—for how long can you admire the bride, marvel at the decorations and speculate on the amount of money spent? It’s a quarter to eleven and there’s no sign of all this frenzied activity abating. I can feel someone sta-ring at me, I know it’s Salman with

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Misplaced TimeMavra Tanveer

She felt like she was home alone and that her home was in the middle of nowhere, but what a beautiful nowhere to be in. With that thought she felt less alone. She had just abandoned writing for a more familiar undertaking. Private and silent, night did this. It made her distance herself from life, a well constructed soliloquy in her head, and two decades to look back on. She experienced a desire to give in to melancholy often, but she would politely decline every time, as some strength and the miracle of abeautiful nowhere remained.Among thesedecorated reflections she returnedonceagain to herself a little withered, but with the intention of convalescing. Like a slow song, mornings lingered. Somewhere around noon the day pickedup pace, or the home did, or maybe just the people who made up the home. We were now an hour ahead because daylight had to be saved and reallocated. Another hour under the sun. The misplaced sense of sixty minutes did not displace the perfected routine of the beautiful nowhere. It worked to a synchronized melody. Though it did displace her internally. Morning came too quickly, afternoon became lethargic, and the private, silent moments of an insomniac were cut short. Meals were mistimed, eventually skipped and another cup of tea had to be added to the day just to create a new sense of sequence. Her mind still refused to weave together extraordinary words and the question of a hot summer day, to be discussed over meals, became: was the president really going to resign? The synchronized melody never became monotony. Altering forces within the home kept it from dissolving into countless irretrievable fragments, disconnected. The man of the house was pragmatic, ambitious and kind. He weighed in like gravity, grounding them all, sometimes holding them back, but a blessed support for the time they were in. His wife with her unwavering humbleness created equilibrium, her compassion correcting everything that was under her control. Here were unique characters. They could be written about. A tragedy had struck already. They were broken beings, and who better to put them on paper than her? Which one was more alive? Who had more endurance? Who blamed fate and who found peace in the idea of it? The drama of life consisted of political hazards, overwhelming loss and God’s humour. To get to the heart of it, the layers of synchronized melody had to be peeled, like almonds soaked in water overnight, gently and slowly. Words had to be found that were a perfect fit but the mind was an hour behind and ideas kept escaping. It was going to rain. The ground smelled of anticipation. The vines covering the backwall of the home had new leaves and a distinct summer green. It reflectedevery season, every mood, made it a beautiful nowhere, made loneliness go away. She wondered what it would be like to lie where seasons cannot reach through the

8 TMT Vol. 2, 2011

Meant for MeHaroon Qureshi

A scream permeates the room. Its echo reverberates throughout the house. It is as if a multitude is screaming, rather than just one solitary individual. A tall old woman stands surveying the scene quietly in one corner of the room. Her hair is white exc-ept for the few strands of grey that still cling to life. Her face is blemished with deep cavernous wrinkles, her eyes fading from green to a pale greyish white. She stands there, staring blankly at the woman who grasps her bloated stomach and screams again. The old woman doesn’t twitch. Screams turn to sobs and tears run down her cheeks. The old one watches hersoilingherself, theurinespreadingacrossherclothesandflowingdownher legs,drippingontothefloor. A man runs panting into the house, past the master bedroom into the lounge, where the two women are to be found. He forces open the door, and hurries through the old woman. The baby is coming two months early. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s just the baby coming. Relax… that’s it, come on let’s get you to a hospital,” he says, out of breath, trying not to panic, as she needs him to stay calm. He gently helps her to the car. The old woman also drifts in behind them. She seems to shrink slightly as she does. How, one cannot tell. As they hit the main road, a volley of curses explodes from the man’s lips. The traffic jammed, they crawl helplessly. The old woman smiles in the rear view. Thisthrows light on her whole face: toothless, her bones jutting, almost bursting out from a taut papery cover of flaking skin. She shrinks in the frame behind them.He holdsher hand in between changing gears. She grimaces and squeezes with all her strength when he does. He glances over at her, the road, her. Nothing seems to move. “Just hurry,” she pleads. “I’m trying,” the man responds through clenched teeth. She screams this time: “Just hurry!” Another wave hits her, she doubles over. He can do nothing, he says nothing further. They reach their destination, finally. It takes forever to arrive at the hospital. He rushes in; three nurses followhim out with a stretcher. As they struggle to get her onto the stretcher, the old wo-man, appearing even frailer now, looks on at all this amused. Her now-five-foot tall figure drifts gently towards the hospital doors. As sheenters, she seems to diminish again. She heads past the maternity ward, peering inon all the newborn children, smiling as she does. The couple is escorted to the operation theatre. “Is everything going to be okay?” the woman asks him, her eyes wide, whimper-ing as she is pushed into the room.

Prose 13

FarazHira Chaudhry

The round of tea is over. The subject of the conversation is the dying economy of the country, the dying love for the country and the dying loyalty of the politicians. The students around Faraz are now yawning and making feeble attempts to keep up the conversation, for his sake. Surely they aren’t interested in the topic. Rarely do they ever argue with him or discuss how they can improve the present or future of the country. For them, Pakistan is like a duck who knows that in a jungle it can never rule or live like a lion or a wolf. Faraz can never make an impact no matter how hard he tries to motivate them. It’s not the bright future he talks about; he tells them beautiful stories of the past, of how everyone would stick together, how everyone was driven to contributing to the progress and development of the country. They weren’t mere fragments, they didn’t do it only for themselves, their families and clans; rather, they tried to unite the whole country. For Faraz the past is still worth talking about. He belongs to a genera-tion that was infected at birth with a germ called ‘patriotism.’ They like to think about their past. They still want to anticipate and harbour expectations. For them, Pakistan is still a dream which will come true one day. Aside from his obsession with the country, his students still love him. When it comes to his own subject, ‘the dying literature of Urdu,’ nobody in the whole town has as much knowledge as Faraz. His lectures are always intense and informative, and as he de-livers them, no one can let their mind swim in the air. Faraz’s love for Urdu literature was also borne out of his love for Pakistan. It matured during the time he had spent with his friend Bukhari in Punjab University while they were doing their Masters in Urdu. Bukhari is a character (or let’s say a person) whom Faraz never fails to introduce to his students or colleagues. For years he has shared the same stories with every batch. For Faraz, Bukhari is a role model for the youngsters; his love and loyalty for the country remain exemplary. Today, again, Faraz doesn’t forget to mention Bukhari to his young students. He takes out hislastcigarettefromaflimsyredpaperpacketandlightsitwithasmallmatchbox,whichhas a miniature of the Quaid’s tomb cheaply printed on it. “During the 1-to-4-a.m. Urdu ghazal programme, lying on the wet grass of the garden outside the Lahore station of Radio Pakistan, Bukhari and I made several plans for how the channel could be improved. If Bukhari had stayed in Pakistan, he would have loved to see how Radio Pakistan can now be heard in twenty six countries.” He pauses for a moment then continues, “I have heard that when people go to America, they soon become Americans. So, they no longer wish to come back to Pakistan.” He looks up at the movingwingsofthepedestalfanandslowlyextinguisheshishalf-finishedcigarette.“While walking on the roads of Washington, I just hope Bukhari thinks back to those beautiful days and always keeps them a part of his memories.” After completing his sen-tence, Faraz closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The neighbour’s dog, which is barking

26 TMT Vol. 2, 2011

Sorcerer Faulad Drug-GluttonExcerpted and translated from Tilism-e-Hoshruba MusharrafAliFarooqi

Before long it was morning and the Emperor of the Armies of Stars retreated from the arena ofthesky.ThegoldenstandardofEmperorSunflutteredinthezephyronthemornofvictory.The conveyance of the King of Planets entered the desert with great majesty. After Bubran Lion-Rider’s last rites had been performed with royal fanfare, Heyrat said to Afrasiyab, “Pray give me leave to march against the traitors and kill them.” Afrasiyab replied,“ThistimeIwillsendsomeonetotakecareofthetrickstersfirst,asorcererwhowillnot be incapacitated by weapons or drugs.” He then recited a spell and called out, “O Faulad Drug-Glutton, present yourself!” No soonerhadheissuedthecommandthanatoweringandhideoussorcereronafieryrhinoc-eros descended from the sky and saluted Afrasiyab. The emperor said, “Depart hastily with twelve thousand sorcerers as Hamza’s trick-sters have entered and caused mayhem in the tilism. Bubran Lion-Rider has been killed. Until now I showed indulgence toward the rebels, thinking they might see the light and return to the path of obedience and deference. But it seems that death has marked them for its own. I am sending twelve steel magic slaves to accompany you. They can be neither drugged nor killed. They will help you capture the enemies.” Afrasiyab clapped again and twelve steel magic slaves wielding swords sprang out of the ground and he said to them, “Accompany Faulad and obey his commands.” Faulad said, “Your Highness, there is no need for them. I alone can overpower the reb-els. I would have to drink many doses of drug in my wine before feeling even the slightest intoxication. Weapons have no effect on me. Neither can the tricksters prevail against me, nor sorcerersormightywarriorsfightme.”Afrasiyabsaid,“Thereisnoharmintakingthemagicslavesalongasaprecaution.Goandfulfillyourmission.” Faulad saluted Afrasiyab and departed. A twelve-thousand-strong army of sorcerers with their tents and equipage accompanied him. The twelve magic slaves rode beside Faulad. The criers of the camp called out, “Clear the way! Show deference! Keep your distance!” They sped on their path and, after crossing the River of Flowing Blood, arrived near Mahrukh Magic-Eye’s camp. The sound of their drums reached the ears of the righteous warriors and Mahrukh dispatched magic birds to gather intelligence. Themagicbirdsflewawayandreturnedaftergatheringparticularsaboutthearriv-ing army. With their gracious tongues they sang the praise of Queen Mahjabeen. “MAY THE QUEEN HAVE A LONG LIFE. MAY HER ENEMIES ALWAYS REMAIN INDISPOSED AND ILL. A WRETCHED SORCERER NAMED FAULAD DRUG-GLUTTON HAS ARRIVED WITH HIS ARMY AND THE INTENTION OF WAGING WAR AGAINST THE SERVANTS OF YOUR ILLUMINATED HIGHNESS.”

Prose 27

Sorcerer Faulad Drug-Glutton

Aftermaking their speeches, themagicbirds flewoff togathermore intelligenceabout the foe.Mahrukh said to Amar Ayyar, “We come from God and to God we must return! Faulad Drug-Glutton is a bloody scourge against whom all weapons are useless. He can drink up great loads of drugs without batting an eye, and his body is proof against warriors’ weapons and sorcerers’ spells.” Amarreplied,“OPrincess,theassistanceoftheCreatoroftheUniversealonesufficesagainstallchallenges.ShaddadtheVile,thegreatinfidelofthepasthadsimilarlysafeguardedhimself against his death. He had set all manner of conditions to God: that the moment of his death should be neither morning nor night; that he should not die either standing, lying or seated. All of these conditions the All-Powerful God accepted just to show him His supremacy andomnipotence.WhenShaddadsatisfiedhimselfthathewouldescapedeath,hewenttoin-spect the paradise he had constructed to rival God’s own. It was the break of dawn. He arrived at the threshold of his paradise and was about to enter it. His one foot was in the stirrup and the other not yet on the ground when the Angel of Death arrived to extract his soul. He was car-riedawaybydeathanddispatchedhellward,fullofunrequitedhopesandunfulfilleddesires.Faulad Drug-Glutton is nothing more than a clown and neither Afrasiyab nor that despicable Laqa are of any consequence at all. O Princess, whoever shuns the True God and tries to as-sume His divine seat remains a loser in this world and the next. Do you not see how Hamza constantly drives Laqa from place to place, with the false god’s head covered with the dust of ignominy?PutyourtrustinGod’sbeneficence.Evenifyoufallintodiretrouble,donotletyourfaith waver in the least. I will now depart to kill the ignoble Faulad.” With these words, Amar headed out of the court. Other tricksters had already left af-ter receiving news of the enemy’s arrival and were busy planning their strategies.

*

LetusnowgiveanaccountofthetrickstersAmar,ZarghamandJansoz.TheyinfiltratedFaulad Drug-Glutton’s camp in the disguise of sorcerers. Amar headed for the place of audience and said to the attendants, “Go and inform your master that sorcerer Maut the Death has come to see him.” When the message was conveyed to Faulad he ordered Maut to be presented. False sorcerer Maut entered the court and saw Faulad Drug-Glutton sitting on a throne fromwhichathousandtonguesofflamecontinuouslydartedout.Fauladworeacrownthatglowedliketheheartoffireandhiswaistwasencircledbyachainofflames.Hundredsofsorcer-ers in hideous guises were seated around him while the twelve magic slaves of steel marched up and down wielding swords. Sparks fell from their mouths when they conversed. The criers and attendants stood at their stations. The false sorcerer, Maut, replied, “I live in the City of Manycolors. Mahrukh Magic-Eye confiscatedallmygoodsandchattelsandforthelongesttimeIprayedforherdestruction.How-ever, I was powerless to confront her on my own. The news of your arrival brought me untold joy and I thought of presenting myself to pay my respects.” Faulad Drug-Glutton said, “You did well in coming here. Consider this place your home. I will soon kill these ingrates and solicit the emperor to confer their belongings on you.” Faulad

Poetry 41

OrangeMavra Tanveer

When it starts to drip orangeThe everymorning sunWon’t you be reminded?It was an almostwinter sunsetWhen we had begun.

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Pantoum:Bane of the Mistress SanaTanveer

bittergourd secretssublime clandestinescullions scrubbing at vilegraffitiontheheartawhile

sublime clandestinebetel-nut kissesgraffitivileontheheartsaccharine and tart

betel-nut kissesas the cloying aftertastesaccharine and tartof a Canderel-ed pie

cloying aftertaste ofmulberry sighs,like a Canderel-ed piepurple-stained goodbye

mulberry sighscloudingreflectedgazespurple-stained goodbyein moonstruck eyes

cloudedreflectedgazescacao memoriesin moonstruck eyescoffeed and toffeed

cacao memorieswrapped in scuttling satincoffeed and toffeedwriggling out of grasp

wrapped in scuttling satin

Poetry 45

Rockstar GrimePalvashaySethi

I read Kurt Cobain’s diary todayOn a wintry-air-conditioned day in MayIt didn’t feel good, it kinda rang true,Brought memories of old days, bittersweet rue.

There’s a rustle as I write this, a hit like cementMy pussy snuggling close, a Freudian accident,Nothing ever said is said to be meant.

Bones and blood and guts and gore,He pretty much called every body a whore.His childish discontent with the world at largeFelt like a ship, repeatedly hitting the barge.Even though he was heard, he shouted his words,At the end of the day he was a passive Columbine nerd.

There’s a rustle as I write this, a hit like cement ,My pussy snuggling close, a Freudian accident,Nothing ever said is said to be meant.

Childish rhyme and simple truthAre oft regarded as word-uncouthAnd even though truthIs still what it used to beThe monkey will insist on climbing a tree.

There’s a rustle as I write this, a hit like cementMy pussy snuggling close, a Freudian accident,Nothing ever said is said to be meant.

I won’t be forgiven, not for many things.The cold and callous wall dividesAll that is, I used to hideNow displayed, the truth undone

I won’t even see the dying sun.

Poetry 47

Let’s SwaySaharHaq

Let’s dance togetherJust for a momentLet’s sway with the breezes of BerlinLet’s forget the yesterdays and tomorrowsMy joys and your sorrowsLet’s sway with the breezes of BerlinLet’s listen to the blues of our forefathersLet’s drink cheap wine and singLet’s sway with the breezes of Berlin.I want to be an insect on your wallThrough the cement and the brick I want to crawlI want to sway with the breezes of BerlinWith you as a canvas on my wall.I want to wait for something betterLet’s swim with the sentences of love lettersOur puddle of ink is wearing thinLet’s sway with the breezes of BerlinWhat could have been, I need to knowI want to smell the air of ChicagoI want to swim in the lakes of MadridI’ll be the seventh leg, you be the squidI want to know what it is I did.Follow me to a nearby citySwim with me in the oceans of nowDon’t think about the nitty grittyDon’t think about the howLet’s be insects on a wallLet’s dance togetherSkin to skinLet’s sway with the breezes of Berlin.Don’t hunger for unknown idealsDon’t gallop onto pathless woodsJust hold me in your arms my dearNow a canvas, once a tear.Without a heart and made of tinAt least let me sway with the breezes of Berlin.

Poetry 49

leave-taking: arizona patioIlonaYusuf

in the plane on that journey of return my tray carries a wedge of lemon garnishing a plate ofsalmonandasipickituptosqueezeit,fleshsegmentedandtranslucent,burstingwithjuice, the fragrance sharp as a blade with undertones almost of honey, like the blossom, hits my nostrils with the surety that this is a leave-taking.

i may grow a lemon tree again but never the awakening to its foliage in this house…

in this place where the arid clarity of light is so bright it almost hurts the eye...

the blossoms blew in their sweetness on the march breeze, showering the patio with tiny petals.

haveyoulookedattheflowersonalemontree?theyaretiny.thickandwhiteandwaxy,the tips veined fragilely like tracery in pink, curling backward from the central crown to makeafivepointstar...

Critical Discourse 53

Your Consciousness is Part of this Text: This is Magical Realism

Haroon Qureshi

Magical Realism is a relatively new term. Due to its newness but more so the contradiction ostensiblyinherentinthecoinage—theconflationofwhatarelargelyconsideredmutuallyexclusiverealmsoftherealandthemagical—itbecomesdifficulttopindownanexactdefini-tion. Nevertheless, the question that has to be addressed before proceeding further with any enquiryinthefieldis:whatismagicalrealismandhowexactlydoesitoperate?Attemptingtoanswerthisquestionnecessitatesbrieflydwellingontheformativebackground,exploringthe historical and conceptual roots of the term; and, also constructing a theoretical framework probing magical realism’s constituent and operative dimensions, particularly as they apply to literature.This,thefirstsectionofthepaperundertakes;intermsofthelatter,basedprimarilyon the theories of Franz Roh and Edmund Husserl, the framework establishes how the read-ers’ consciousness is a part of any magical realist text. This constitutes a central key to, and core of, Magical Realism’s very existence, and consequently also to arriving at an adequate workingdefinitionofwhatitdoesanddoesnotconstitute.Thesecondsectionofthepapersubstantiates the framed hypothesis with reference to Honore de Balzac’s The Girl with the Golden Eyes and Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Chronicle of a Death Foretold and “Light is Like Wa-ter.”Thethirdandfinalsectiontiestogetherandconcludesalloftheabove.

I. Background and Framework

It is typical for books and essays on magic(al) realism to begin by stating that the concept and its history are toocomplextobeabletoprovideadefinition.(Bowers5)

In order to (not) break from this tradition, at the ontset this paper offers a concise ter-minological, historical and structural background. According to Maggie Anne Bowers—who explores the lexical and historical roots of the term in her book Magic(al) Realism—Magical Realism has become a near phenomenon in the literary world since the late twentieth century (Bower 1). Associated with names such as Marquez, Salman Rushdie and numerous others, according to Bowers the genre appears to be growing ever more powerful (Bower 1). But if what equates to a genre or mode of narration truly is gaining momentum in literature, the pertinent question is why? What makesMagical Realism so appealing? And last but most im-portantly: again, what is it exactly? With countless authors now deploying Magical Realism in their work and a vast body of successfully marketed and consumed literature (and other audio-visual text) now accruing under this label, the genre does appear to yet be gaining mometum. However the term ‘Magi-cal Realism’, despite being conceived of a diverse set of aesthetic principles, particularly of

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of composition, and attracting a great deal of academic attention, the term still continues to confuseitsscholars.Confusing,asitsnatureisoftenconflatedwithmagicanditsoriginsareseen by most as a complete mystery. According to Bowers, the term ‘Magical Realism’ origi-nated from the German term Magischer Realismus (Bower 2). She explains that after its ger-mination, the term went through numerous transformations, in various different languages and cultures (Bower 2).1 The current variation of the term was translated from its Spanish derivative, a translation that in itself has changed with time (Bowers 2). At one point, the term which denoted this particular mode of expression was either Marvelous Realism or Marvelous Reality, which translated, and eventually congealed in our times, into Magical Realism (Bowers 2). The point to be noted in all these transformations is how the term was constantly reinter-preted to convey slightly different variants: “With each translation the connection between the terms and their origins became blurred and confused” (Bowers 2). The central construct holding the genre together over time and these variants appears to be the focus on constructing the ‘real’ in such a way that it seems magical, without falling over into the realm of fantasy. Also, just as its own history seems all convoluted, so does the genre itself focus on re-viewing history as just another narrative: one which can be re-written when desired within the body of the magical realist text (Bowers 9). Herein lies this literature’s deeply subversive rub. Adherence to a ‘linear narrative time’ is also contested by the genre: rather than following conventional rules, the genre seeks and manages to alter the normative rules of time, blending past, present and future (when necessary) into the plots’ progression (Bowers 9). Before proceeding with an analysis of magical realist texts and the way they play with the reader’s perception of history, time, space and, in a sense, the social fabric, several aspects of thetermmustyetbeclarified.

Thefirstoftheterms,Magischer Realismus or magic realism, was coined in Germany in the 1920s in relation to the painting of the Weimar Republic that tried to capture the mystery of life behind the surface reality (Bowers 2).

Franz Roh coined the term Magischer Realismus to emphasize the existence of a group of post-expressionist artists (Zamora 1). 2 From the inception of the term Magischer Realismus, through to its current variant, Magical Realism, the primary focus is not on the isolated inter-jection of fantastical elements into a realistic landscape. On the contrary, the terms celebrate a returntoreality,butareturnwitha“mystical”twist(Zamora1).Itishere,asfarasdefinitionis concerned, that yet another problem arises. What is mysticism? The problematic aspect of Magical Realism, in terms of pinning it down to one or two standard archetypes is that it is ex-plainable only through means that are nearly as abstract and unexplainable as the term itself. First of all, the concept of magical versus mystical must be examined. Can a cleardistinction be drawn between what is magical and what mystical? These terms are usually explained in co-relation with reality. However, this begets yet another ques-tion: what exactly is reality? Whose reality is being spoken of?

Haroon Qureshi

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Mysticism is the art of union with Reality. The mystic is a person who has attained that union in greater or lesser degree; or who aims at and believes in such attainment. (Qtd in Underhill 16) Consequently, “reality” is clearly but unfortunately yet another relative and am-biguous term. What and whose reality is being spoken of here? This question has no real answer. According to Underhill, in her book Practical Mysticism, only a mystic can answer this unanswerable question (Underhill 16). However, an answer, at least at a certain level, is necessary in order to differentiate between the magical and the mystical. For the sake of bridging and brevity the following contradistinction can be made between the two: Magic refers to otherwise (under ‘normal’ logical conditions) inexplicable events. It represents an aberration, an occurrence of apparent discord with the normal rules of nature: an impossi-bility which occurs; whereas, its counterpart, mysticism, refers to a deeper understanding of reality, making it magical because of the viewer’s perception of a changed truth: not because of extra-ordinary inexplicable events (Underhill 16-19). Is it surprising that the term went through terminological and interpretive convolutions, and was reconstituted repeatedly, untilitfinallysettleduponMagicalRealism?Inlightoftheabovecontradistinction,however,perhaps Mystical Realism would have been more accurate and less confusing for people. Realityforpracticalpurposesmaybeseenasafixednorm;however,thingsarenotas simple as that (Underhill 21). A picture, for example, is not merely what is seen with one’s eyes, but is rather a coalescing of learned behavior and knowledge, which is then utilized to interpret the image in a certain fashion (Underhill 21-23).

Magical Realism Aesthetically, it is significant perhaps that the termMagical Realism origi-nated from a movement in art rather than literature (Zamora 1). Contrary to the im-balancedfixationonthemagicalhalfof thedyad,whichthe literarygenreappearsto have shifted its focus to (probably to the brink of falling out of the realm of pure MagicalRealism),theterm’soriginator,FranzRoh,emphasizedthe“returntofiguralrepresentation after a decade or more of abstract art.”

I wish to indicate that the mystery does not descend to the represented world, but rather hides and palp- itates behind it. (Qtd in Zamora 1)

HereRohalludestohowMagicinvolvesexternalandextra-ordinaryinfluence,ofsuper-natural behavior, whereas Magical Realism originates from creativity in the usage and rendering of reality; rendering the represented reality in a larger than life form and man-ner. To reiterate: Magic, as traditionally and conventionally understood, refers to aberra-tions, any existence or event that, going by accepted laws of nature, should not exist or

Your Consciousness is a Part of this Text

64 TMT Vol. 2, 2011

The Bearable Heaviness of Being (in Love)in Milan Kundera’s World

SaroshAltaf

Introduction

Why does love seem to be the most elusive emotion in Milan Kundera’s world? Perhaps be-cause it is not love per se, but rather a mixture of love, compassion, poetic memory, everything; it appears more like a jumble of emotions that have some semblance of love, but it does not come across as love in its purest form. In this state of affairs, does love in its pure, unadulterated formevenexist?Whatiscompassion?Whatisthesignificanceofinterjectingwhatseemslikeascientifictheoryoflightnessandweight,andthattooattheverybeginningofalovestory? This paper sets out to investigate rather than answer such questions;1 the objective is to explore one of the major concerns in Milan Kundera’s Unbearable Lightness of Being, the ambiguity of love in the light of a framework drawn primarily from his theoretical work The ArtoftheNovel.Theinquiryiscomposedoffivesections.Thefirstarticulatesthetheoreti-cal framework of the paper, establishing Kundera’s idea of how a novel discovers unknown segments of existence, and how this shapes his inquiry into the psychology or phenomena of love. The paper then proceeds to map out how this inquiry plays out in Kundera’s novel: the second section elaborates how the novelist depicts the ambiguity and inconsistency of love as well as the vacillations between love and non-love. It illustrates how the novel’s pro-tagonist, Tomas, is trapped and struggling to hold on to the two worlds in which he dwells. The third section sheds light on the one emotion that comes closest to love in the novel: compassion; and the fourth inquires into the philosophy of lightness and weight, body and soul, and how this relates to Tomas’ feelings of compassion and love. The paper concludes by questioning the purity of what appears to be one of the most common words in our world—love—andattemptstoweighitssignificancetocharactersinKundera’sworld.

I. Kundera’s Discoveries in the History of the Novel

Kundera’s desire to protect human kind from the “forgetting of being” leads him to examine “what happens inside” a man’s mind (Art 4, 5). In his theoretical work The Art oftheNovel Kundera asserts that “the sole raison d’être of a novel is to discover what only a novel can discover,” and that this amounts to discovering “a hitherto unknown segment of existence” (Art 5). He disapproves of the one-sided nature of the European sciences, “which reduce the world to a mere object of technical and mathematical investigation” (Art 3) and contends that these advancements in science and technology take man further into the “the forgetting of be-ing” (Art 4). According to Kundera, we can discover such unknown segments by exploring the complexity of existence, by investigating “what really happens inside” and “by getting

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Magical Realism’s Extremities: Kafka’s Trial and Neruda’s “Obligation”

Hera Naguib

Introduction

Literature findsexpression, imperceptiblyblends intoand lends tomanydifferentartisticforms and modes. In the history of art, magical realism is one such mode that has found it-self at crossroads with both literature and the visual arts. The exclusive universality and com-mendableness of the mode ensues from the inherent ambiguity and diversitythatdefineit:bothdefiningfeaturescaptureandcommunicatetheessenceandmoralityofart.Inliteraryterms, verbal descriptions open room for either daydreams or nightmares, poetic visions or unrelentingmystifications,allstemmingwithinandfromthemundane,andcombinetoproj-ect a multifarious worldview that is either liberating or ensnaring. This essay traces the roots andbasicdefinitionsofthenarrativemode,MagicalRealism,andexplorestwoinverseap-proachesinwhichthemodehasbeenutilized.InFranzKafka’snovel,The Trial, the surrealistic verbaldescriptionsofthebanalreflecttheinherentmysteryofthecourt,itsmechanismsandits principals, aspects that combine to evoke a mythical journey for the protagonist. In Pablo Neruda’spoem“ThePoet’sObligation,”figuralimagesanddescriptionsempowerthepoet’svision to overcome its inherently disenchanted approach to natural phenomenon and master the ability to create a magical world view.

Magical Realism: Historical, Lexical and Theoretical Roots

The narrative genre of magical realism has recently gained much currency in con-temporary fiction across theworld. However, its varied historical, lexical, and theoreticalroots have stirred much debate between literary, arts and critical discourse circles. The three variations of the term, ‘magic realism’, ‘marvellous realism,’ and ‘magical realism’ have gained much popularity and also suffered much criticism since the 1980s (Bowers 1). In 1925, Ger-manartcriticFranzRohfirstcoinedthetermMagicRealism,orratherMagischer Realismus, to depict the post-expressionist paintings of European artists (Zamora 21). Within these post-expressionisticpaintings,Rohcelebratedtheartists’returntofiguralrepresentationaf-ter a decade or more of abstract art (Zamora 21). In the introduction to the expanded ver-sion of the essay in which he originally coined the term, he explained its advent in the visual arts—Roh is said to have emphasized the artists’ blending of the “everyday” and the “com-monplace” “with the word ‘magic’” (Zamora 21). The form tried to “capture the mystery of life behind the surface reality,” and demonstrate that “the mystery does not descend to the represented world, but rather hides and palpitates behind it” (Bowers :2; Zamora 21). The mag-ic thus lay in the style of the paintings and not in the matter (Wood 10). Later, Roh him-

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selfdisavowedtheterm,tyingitsdemisetotheinsignificanceoftheobjectovertherepre-sentative powers of the abstract form (Zamora 2002:22). However, Roh’s dismissal has been largely overlooked by literary critics, who have tended towards ignoring the historical origins of magical realism in the visual arts (Zamora 2002:22). Moreover, by the time Roh rejected the movement in 1958, the term was gaining more popularity and usage amongst literary critics in Latin America (Zamora 2002:22). Cuban novelist Alejo Carpentier popularized the second term, ‘marvellous realism’ or ‘lo real marvilloso’ in Latin America during the 1940s. He also argued that this new repre-sentationalmodeofwritingisuniquetotheAmericas,onefirmlyrootedinandinseparablefrom the peculiar realities of life as experienced by the inhabitants of Latin America and the Caribbean (Moses 3). In his essay, “In Reality,” Michael Wood maintains that reality, in marvel-lous realist narratives, is represented as extraordinary, that “reality itself, whether historical or natural, is fantastic, a form of daily miracle” (Moses 12). As in the mode, magic realism, this miracle comprises the ordinary in its relevant contextualization. However, its inherent marvel lies in its foreignness, and is experienced when it strikes like an overpowering reality. As Wood posits: “it would be fantastic if [the reader or the character] came across it somewhere else… calling it marvellous expresses our surprise at its undeniable actual existence” (12). In his essay, “Magical Realism at World’s End,” Michael Moses describes Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s incorporation of this technique in OneHundredYearsofSolitude. He contends that “it is at once a realistic novel, a family chronicle… and a fabulous tale of marvellous events that would seem more akin to a Catholic saint’s life… a sixteenth-century Spanish crónica, an Amerindian myth, African American folk tale, or fanciful family story passed down orally (with increasing embellishment and unreliability) through the generations” (12). The novel, as he further describes, incorporates hyperbole or what Carpentier found as the literary solution to representing this profuse, extraordinary reality—the baroque. The reference to myths, leg-ends,andfablesfurthersignifieshowthereadersandcharacters,since“bothMárquezandCarpentier write from the point of view of someone arriving in a strange place,” are encounter-ing anew a pre-modern and non-Western world which has yet to be disenchanted (Moses 7). Because indigenous traditions, like the oral narrative, are explored; because “one or usually severalpre-modern,pre-secular,pre-scientificandsometimepreliteratenarrativetraditions”are promoted through this modern literary technique, the narrative self-consciously stages an encounter between the West and its Other, and in this respective power play, encourages post-colonial discourse (Moses 7). Therefore, this narrative technique promotes new and various dimensions of perception geared towards understanding the nature of reality, particularly one different from the didactic, authoritative and stringent one of its colonizer. The third term, ‘magical realism’ or ‘realism magico’ was introduced in relation to LatinAmericanfictioninthe1950s.Inthismode,theelementofmagicisnarratedfactuallyand ordinarily amalgamated into the commonplace: “admitted, accepted, and integrated into the rationality and materiality of literary realism” (Zamora and Farisqtd. in Bowers 2). Therefore, its key factor is that the “magic [is] in the material, and the realism [is] in the style” (Wood 10). In realist narratives, representation is as objective as the tone. However, inmagicalrealistfiction,the“reportersaresoberwhile reality is drunk” (Wood 11). This

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variation of magical realism closely adheres to that of marvellous realism. In this mode, facts are embellished so that “they appear to be ‘fables’ or ‘embroidered facts’” (Wood 10).Moreover,magicalrealismtextsalsoquestiontheempiricalscientificlawsthatgov-ern reality in order to uncover new angles of perceiving that culminate in a process of itsredefinitionandre-conceptualization.Forexample,bothMarquezandSalmanRush-die offer approaches to reality alternative to that of Western philosophy in the respective post-colonial or non-Western nature of their works (Bowers 1). Because of its varied and heterogeneous approach, this mode has acquired the most critical and commercial atten-tion. Bowers posits that the complex and divergent origins of the three terms have led to its inaccurate application, which has in turn triggered much confusion in critically dif-ferentiating between the three terms (2). Furthermore, various translations of the terms over the years has blurred and confused the connections between them and their origins even more (Bowers 2). Even Michael Wood questions whether these terms are reconcil-able (13). However, he concludes that “they are already together… in a great deal of re-markablefiction”asevidencedabovewithreferencetoMarquez(Michael13).Butmostimportantly, the answer to whether the claims of these terms can be reconciled or not lies in our conception of these terms: what is marvellous, what is fantastic, and what is magi-cal?Moreover,italsodependsonhowthesetermsaredefinedagainstournotionofreal-ity. Both “reality” and “magic” are in essence relational terms that acquire their meaning in opposition to what is respectively unreal or real. However, realism possesses the pecu-liar characteristic of being able to deny its own relational status (Wood 14). It fails to offer the real thing or the real story that essentially lies beyond discussion or one’s interpretive powers (Wood 14). In this, it covers its own contingency and continues to do so unless it is countered: “unless we manage to retrain it, or reveal its machinery” (Wood 14). This counter-movement is precisely the driving force behind both these narrative modes.

Theoretical Framework: Two Inverse Approaches to Testing the Visualizing Capacity 1of Magical Realism

TheFirstApproach:OrdinaryThingsinExtraordinaryWays

Roh row, row your boat, Gently down the stream, Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily Lifeisbutadream.

The discourse surrounding magical realism has encouraged many writers, critics and liter-ary theorists to expound various ways in which the mode can retrain and re-conceptualize our worldview. Lois Zamora explores how magical realism questions reality by interrogat-ing both the nature of visual representation and the nature of the objects represented in the visual and literary arts. Zamora launches her argument in her essay “The Visualizing

94 TMT Vol. 2, 2011

Theorizing a Political Anatomy of Pakistan:A Discursive Analysis of Power, Culture and Politics

Mavra Tanveer

Foundation

Let me begin with an assumption rooted in sociopolitical history, that the collective culture and/or various subcultures of a people form an integral part of the political framework of any state.1 The social value system of any area, composed of religion, caste, language, class andothersocialindicators,translatesintoauniquepoliticalculturethatheavilyinflu-ences the composition and infrastructure of the formal political institutional sphere. Be it a national culture or localized subcultures, whoever maintains a cultural monopoly over the body politic2 controls the political bearing of the area. Hence, power—ideological and material—inherently becomes central to the equation of culture and politics. Politi-cal power struggles, relations and representations, then, take on a cultural form, shaping the state governance mechanisms that emerge as amalgamations of political, social and economiccapitalinproportiontohowmuchculturalinfluenceapoliticalleaderorpartywields in a particular area. As culture is the inextricable ideological dimension of a politically and geographi-cally independent entity, a nation-state,3one cannot attempt to deconstruct4 the central-ity of power within a polity without venturing into its cultural context. Developing a ho-listic reading involves not isolating one facet of reality (social, economic, and/or political), but rather constructing an analytical and theoretical framework that combines parallel narratives (historical, current). Only such an inclusive approach will allow an informed focus to be developed towards analyzing the role of power within formal (constitutional laws) and informal institutions (norms, traditional value-system),5 to determine what principles of membership (social identity markers)6 emerge and how they contribute to theconfigurationofapoliticalculture.Thecentralconsiderationofpowerdynamism,then, evolves into an exploration of how a culturally adapted political system is utilized in a way that proves to be politically expedient for particular interest groups. Be it a dictatorship, autocracy, republic or any other form of government, the public sphere and all its apparatus maintain themselves on a cultural base.7 The focus of this inquiry rests on the cultural nature of electoral politics, in particular democracy. The somewhat flexible western political philosophy of democracy (Fotopoulos) is one that has evolved over time and branched out into various systemic variants. Nevertheless its fundamental political principles remain the same across all versions. Depending on the degree and type of participatory representation (direct, consensus based) (Fotopoulos) employed by the state, all components of a modern democratic process such as election campaigning and voting are deeply embedded as ideologi-cal variants of democracy (liberal, emergent, religious) (J. Derbyshire, I. Derbyshire 31-37 and the form of government (parliamentary, presidential) (J. Derbyshire, I. Derbyshire 52-69) further

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determine the extent to which a political framework accommodates the cultural and vice versa. What is to be determined is what kind of power matrices materialize when a western philosophy of governance is culturally appropriated to establish Pakistan as a sovereign re-public. The culture of the region that was to become Pakistan was not only a vital factor in its conception, but over the years has also proved to be the central catalyst in the changing political landscape of the country. As an independent sovereign republic,8 Pakistan func-tions on a democratic system of governance. Being an Islamic Republic (“The Constitution of Pakistan, 1973” 2009) religion remains central to the political architecture of the country. Balancing the liberal contentions of democracy and orthodox elements of Shariah Law in the constitution poses a tremendous sociopolitical challenge. In the federation,9 the con-stitution divides sovereign authority, though not always equally, between the national and provincial governments. The question of, and struggle for, equal political autonomy of the four provinces of Pakistan is also embedded in the cultural disparity between each. Provin-cial subcultures allow for the political control of a community to fall under a few select peo-pleinthepositiontodominatelocallyandtranslatethatinfluencenationallyfortheirownadvantage. A bi-cameral legislative body divides the Majlis-i-Shoora (Council of Advisors) (“Government Structure” 2009) into the national assembly and senate, allowing a cultur-ally saturated constituent assembly to emerge that creates and maintains domestic policies directed towards retaining political power. The state-established precept of democracy is meant to function at various levels of society. The internal electoral system of some political parties, multi-tiered local non-elective bodies,andsenateisalsomeanttoreflecttheessenceofdemocracy.Eachofthesepoliticalmechanisms has its own cultural context allowing it to be seamlessly integrated in the equa-tion of power and political culture. As Pakistan is a relatively new state its culture cannot be considered as isomorphic with the nationstate, which is still a developing amalgamation itself. A political concoction has been and is being created of Islamic ideology, sub-continental cul-tural heritage, the remains of colonization, political legacies, and failures of past and present leaders. Keeping in mind all these factors and the complex political situation of Pakistan, what remains to be deconstructed is how sociopolitical determinants create a discrepancy or coali-tion between the de facto and de jure modes of political power within democratic Pakistan. Analyzing such a socially dynamic process raises various questions and prejudices. WhatisthecompositionofthepoliticalcultureofPakistanthathasossifiedtoalargeextentover the years? If there is a lapse between the sociopolitical reality and the political ideology put forward by the state, what then emerges as legal constitutional power? Does a cultural-ly variant political framework better mobilize and involve people in the democratic process while simultaneously facilitating the political agenda of their representatives or is only one side guaranteed a gain at the expense of the other? Does the framework of democracy and the consequent socially constructed political process aid a consolidation of informal forms of power and how does it, in turn, affect the cultural base of the country? Is the political power that emerges from culture inevitably diffusible? If a quid pro quo relationship were to devel-op between those who govern and the governed, based on an exchange of favors, would it

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not empower both parties involved? If culture cannot realistically be divorced from the political realm of any state, a dis-cord between the two has the capacity to destabilize an entire political infrastructure.10 It is important, then, that the political ideology that forms any state’s governmental base is one that is culturally viable. The aim of this paper is to examine how democracy harmonizes itself with the culture of Pakistan and vice versa, and the role of power within this mutual process or adjustment. In pursuing this analysis, I choose to not rely on the work of any one particular theorist, school of thought or research methodology. Theory and method mate-rialize according to the theoretical and practical needs of the study, as the eclectic focus in-cludes everything from the general to the idiosyncratic.

Framework

Culture, Politics and Political Culture

Conceptually, culture is discussed in the epistemic universe endlessly. Yet it still re-mainsanindefiniteconcept,changingaccordingtothedisciplineitisusedby,asitencom-passesaplethoraofideas.Why,then,anemphasisonculturespecificallyasthecentralcon-stituent of the theoretical framework? Simply because this very “disjunction of meanings [is] the concept’s most enduring disciplinary characteristic” (Borofsky et al. 49). It permits us to go beyond paradigmatic distinctions and develop an analytic model based on holism,11 extracting theoretical facets that allow the centrality of power within a political system to be deconstructed. Nevertheless, in order to ground the inquiry within a particular context, establishing an analytic boundary of the concept becomes necessary. To come to a working definitionthatpivotsuscentrallywithinourquery,weneedtoconsiderwhattheuseofauniversally accepted term such as culture entails for this particular study. Ifweventure into categoricaldisciplinarydefinitionsof culture, an interminablestream of interpretations appears. In order to get to an adequate one, we need to break down theinquiryintosegmentsandsievethroughapoolofclassificationsaccordingly.First,asthe exploratory focus is on social existence, organization and the public domain,12 the term culture is used in its macro sense, thus acquiring a Structuralist dimension. Structuralism13

constitutes an analytic approach focusing on the structural units, symbols and patterns of society14 such as social institutions, relations, and roles. The second consideration, however, does not allow the scope to be limited to the notion that only external societal structural forc-es shape everything, as the role of the individual as the carrier and enactor of culture is also undeniable. Taking on a structural perspective allows us to magnify the collected and com-pacted cultural patterns, but the lens has to be altered to include a focus on the social nature of an individual’s relationship within the political entity it is part of. Individuals as members of social groups become part of a larger community. If social structural elements of a commu-nity act as political agencies then particular individuals act as political actors, propelling the creation and reproduction of political culture that forms a system.15

Hence, rather than regarding the individual as, on the one

108 TMT Vol. 2, 2011

The Nature Of Shakespearean TragedyDr.IraHassan

As far back as 1946, H.B. Charlton claimed that, as a life-long professor of literature, when he was invited to lecture at Trinity College, Cambridge, the honor went to his head. He said he rashly chose to talk on Shakespearean tragedy, justifying this decision as “a matter of professional morality” (Charlton 7), pleading that since all universities have a Litera-ture Chair, obviously everyone believed “literature has a special contribution to make to the moral or spiritual well-being of mankind” (Charlton 7). He goes on to say, “It is the duty of every professor of literature to say his say on Shakespeare and on what Shakespeare means to the world. To shrink from the task is immoral: to face it, is to expose one’s own unworthiness” (7). Building on this long ago august foundation, I proceed with my case. Shakespearean tragedy has touched humanity across the globe and moved more men and women to tears than any other drama. Great drama, says Una Ellis Fermor, de-pends upon the passion and intensity with which the dramatist apprehends the world of experience. Itistheintensity,firstofhisimaginativeexperienceof the world about him, then of his artistic experience—the act of transmuting this into a world of art—that gives to the great dramatist his power to move men, to touch the depths of their imaginations, to free them, and to set at work the powers of life. (Fermor 3)

In great dramatists such as Aeschylus, Sophocles and Shakespeare, this passion and power can be seen throughout their great works. There is no slackening in plays like King Lear or Oedipus. Shakespeare’s art is consistently dramatic according to Ellis Fermor, perhaps because he has limitless sympathy with the acting and suffering of man. Thus he enters wholeheartedly into the lives of each of his characters. This is true not only of major characters, but also the supporting players. We see Lady Macbeth’s growing isola-tion and hear, in the broken phrases of her sleepwalking scene, all the past actions that haunt her. But in a few lines we also learn of the miserable lives lived by the two murder-ers. We are given enough clues to see beyond their brief appearance in the plays, to see a life lived in poverty, the grim uncertainty of their future and the desperation to change it. Shakespeare’s universal sympathy for victor and victim, for do-gooder and crook, for king and beggar, rises above personal prejudice, race and creed. He cares for them all. He understands the motives of all and the power of his poetry reaches over four hundred years to make us care and understand. To begin with Bradley’s views on Shakespearean tragedy seems logical. There are