Monday, June 22, 2009

Ion, part 3

Great questions, Mr. Clark! I tried to reply in a comment, but apparently I had written too much for the textbox. :) I'd love to hear your thoughts on these as well.

1. Can Ion’s quest for land be seen as a metaphor for something else? Can it be seen as an example of humanity’s futile quest to capture and embody characteristics that more properly belong to God? Or maybe a rebellion against the frail confines of human existence? Or a quest for significance apart from God?

Yes, I definitely think Ion’s quest for land is a metaphor of a greater struggle. Though any of the three options you propose are quite possible, a quest for significance seems to be one of the more likely ones. But I’m still thinking about this question…

2. You mention the frequent beatings and oppression women endured in the novel. Are there any instances of defiance by women characters? Do you think the judge’s comment about women being the source of all crime is an attitude the novel itself asserts, or does the book undercut this attitude?

I think the novel, overall, perpetuates extreme patriarchy and the oppression of women, for reasons I’ve mentioned in my last post. Women in the novel seem to accept their social position without qualms, and in fact it seems women are actually among the chief enforcers of patriarchy. For the most part, women simply accept their position of housekeeper and bedmate and do their best to fly beneath the radar, in some cases to avoid beatings. Ana is obviously the prime example of such a lifestyle, and Macedon Cercetasu’s wife encourages her to accept her fate, (that "God has willed it that women shall suffer" on p. 252).

However, there are also minor subversions that crop up in the novel. For one thing, several women have a powerful voice in their families, sometimes even overpowering their husbands. For example, in the Herdelea household, all three women have incredible sway with the father, and they convince him to act as they wish (albeit using tears and pleas instead of relying on logic and discourse). Zenobia Glanetasu also runs her family in her husband’s stead, working hard to make up for her husband’s laziness, but also fighting to protect her dowry from his drinking habit. Roza Lang is another woman in the novel who steps outside normal patriarchal roles, but she does so in a sexual manner, for her promiscuous ways are known to everyone in the surrounding villages. In fact, she is the one who awakens Titu’s sexuality, which reverses the traditional stereotype that man must be the more sexually experienced one in a relationship.
Though these instances reveal that some women to attempt to defy patriarchy, they are not successful in doing so, for all of them remain dependent on men for approval and sustenance, and thus never actually construct meaning for themselves outside of the social construct of wife-hood. Indeed, to be an old maid is one of the most-feared "conditions" women face in this novel, as Savista, Florica, Laura, Ghighi, and several other women clearly show by their attempts to secure husbands.

Only one woman seemed to me to be an independent thinker, and only one other dared defy male authority to extend charity to a woman need. Both women are minor characters, easy enough to forget (and I even have to look up their names), yet powerful in their quiet demeanors. Virginia Gherman is the school mistress Titu meets during one of his clerk stunts; she is a strong, independent thinker, and echoes his patriotic sentiments. In her, Titu feels he has found a "friendship born of the same unselfish aspirations" (285), based not on physical attraction but rather on intellectual stimulation. However, Titu is extremely disillusioned when Virginia proceeds to make her own decisions, independently of Titu, and becomes engaged to a Hungarian lieutenant. For Titu, the action is irreconcilable to their common philosophy, but Virginia has no problem crossing social and ethical constructions in order to construct for herself a life that is as pleasurable as possible.

The other woman is Macedon Cercetasu’s wife. Her name is never given, and she appears a total of three times (if I remember correctly). However, she is the only kind soul in the book, in my opinion, because she is the one who runs to Ana after her father and husband beat her (on separate occasions). She does indeed affirm patriarchy by encouraging Ana to take on a suffering servant role (as the woman herself does). However, Mrs. Cercetasu subverts patriarchy by "interfering" in the men’s "affairs" (read: rushing to soother Ana after the beatings) when no one else will; the villagers cite a man’s supreme authority in his own yard as the primary reason to stay away (175). Mrs. Cercetasu does not overtly reject patriarchy, but she does make a tiny step in the right direction: defending the innocent and helpless despite consequences to her own personal safety. And that, I believe, is an act of bravery (which just so happens to be a traditionally "male" characteristics).

3. Your observation concerning Romanian Christians’ inability to separate themselves from pagan practices and beliefs seems to be an issue that has plagued the church from its founding. Paul warns the Corinthians against maintaining pagan practices; the early church had to deal with Gnostic influences; in more modern times we’ve seen churches defend inhumane practices, such as slavery, or compromise themselves in order to ingratiate themselves to the state, such as the German Church during Hitler’s rule. Are there any indications in the text that Christianity can be anything more than a tool for gaining/maintaining power and authority over others? Why does it seem so easy for the church to fall prey to seeking earthly power and to compromising the Christian message to conform it to contemporary trends? Is Ion fairly representative of a humanity attempting to be its own god?

I agree that Christianity has long been used as a political tool to gain power over others, and, certainly, Father Belciug uses it as such. However, I do not believe manipulation is Christianity’s main purpose for the characters in Ion. Rather, it appears that most of the Romanian peasants in this novel are sincere—yet seriously misguided—in their faith.

Mrs. Herdelea, for example, constantly prattles her prayers and church chants, hoping to gain God’s ear and his favor on her family; yet she also seeks to fulfill her "duty" toward Him—she observes fasts, attends services, and generally tries to stay away from anything "pagan;" yet her conduct does not always line up with her religion. In fact, she is prone to show favoritism to those people who will prove helpful to her or her family, shamelessly fawning over inspectors, prospective suitors, and distant relatives; she also swears brazenly those whom she formerly praised; in short, her life is self-centered.

Compare Mrs. Herdelea with Zenobia Glanetasu, however, and one can see more fully the shortcomings of religion in these characters’ lives. Zenobia, like Mrs. Herdelea, fasts, attends services, and kneels daily before the icons to raise her prayers to God. However, she is also quick to swear, pass judgment on the innocent, treat her husband cruelly, and dabble in witchcraft. Laura and George Pintea also view religion as a means to an end, hoping to raise nationalistic spirit in their missionary village from the pulpit.

Religion, for the peasants at least, seems to be more of an added safeguard (albeit with minor inconveniences) against evil than a radical lifestyle of selfless abandonment and grateful obedience.

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