And it turns out that I accidentally slept with a prostitute last night.

"Gee, on the way home tonight I'd like to buy some seeds" (Death of a Salesman, 1585).

Throughout Willy's life, he tries to find his place and leave his mark, but his promises are typically empty.  Willy told Biff and Happy that he would "have [his] own business" and would "show [them] all the towns" at some point, but that never actually happened (1559).  Willy always thought that the key to success was to be liked -- "be liked and you will never want" (1561). However, whatever idealism Willy displays, his neighbor Charlie outperforms him.  Charley encourages his son Bernard to study in school, talks less, sells more, and is somehow better liked than Willy (1563).  In a way, the two families are foils; we've got Willy versus Charlie and Biff versus Bernard.  Willy's optimism is nothing, for he has found no success in being a salesman.

Once Willy has his mind set on committing suicide, his mind returns instantly to the promise he made Laura (quoted at the top of the page).  He tells his waiter Stanley, "Oh, I'd better hurry. I've got to get some seeds" (1619).  Then, on the night of his death, he plants a garden and has hallucinations about discussing his suicide with his brother Ben.

Before I continue to analyze the significance of the garden, I'd like to point out that this is really sad.  Willy found so little success in his life that all he feels he can contribute is a hastily organized garden that most likely won't even last.  Simultaneously, his own sons abandoned him to hook up with call girls, and the only person he can talk to as he plants is his brother Ben, who is dead.  And it's not even like they slept with the prostitutes on accident (I'm looking at you, Sam Seaborn).  That's sad.

I would say that the garden is an important motif in Miller's play.  The garden represents the Willy's failure to meet any of his goals in life -- his sons have hazy futures, he was fired from his position, and despite his most idealistic dreams, he is not well liked among his customers.

Getting Things Straight

"Suppose two people say they're truly in love, and they want extra time to be together. Then you see, Kath, there has to be a way to judge if they're really telling the truth" (Never Let Me Go, 175).

Now that I've read chapter fifteen, I'm going to differentiate between three things that have been confused in my mind for my whole life: symbols, motifs, and themes. I'll give one example of each of them.

1. Symbol: "'Judy Bridgewater. Songs After Dark'" (170). Symbols stand for something bigger than them, and I'm sure this tape has to symbolize something(s). For me, it stands for the connection between Kathy's past and her present. The reason that these flashbacks are happening is that they're important to the person into whom she developed, and the tape "brings back memories of that afternoon in Norfolk every bit as much as it does our Hailsham days" (173).

2. Motif: "'Like I said, Kath, Ruth doesn't know about the animals'" (179). A motif is a recurring idea, and I feel like the strong connection between Tommy and Kathy versus the weak connection between Tommy and Ruth is everywhere in the novel. When they were in the shop, Kathy was very aware that they were the only two people in it. Tommy and Kathy can have heart-to-heart conversations that Tommy and Ruth cannot have.

3. Theme: the complexity of love (quoted at the beginning of this post). Love is an important part of human life, and throughout the novel, especially in Part Two, the characters have been trying to figure out what it means and implies. They've already recognized that love is something extremely difficult to judge and lies with "'our souls'" (176). There have also been hints of the idea that physical intimacy cannot stand for emotional connection, another common theme about love.

Speculation, Speculation, Speculation

"'What's going to happen to us one day. Donations and all that'" (Never Let Me Go, 29).

I don't know what "donations" are, which is probably Ishiguro's intention. He's been using euphemisms like "donations," "donors," and "carers" throughout the first few chapters without explanation. I'm pretty certain he's leaving open ends for us to speculate about the futures of Kathy, Ruth, Tommy, and friends. So I'm going to start speculating.

I've picked up on a few things that seem to be motifs. One of them I mentioned in my last post -- it seems to be vital that the author identify whether or not certain areas are safe for private conversation. I was wrong in my last post; apparently, the lake is not so good for that. That maaakes me think that the donors and carers have one-on-one sessions sort of like the ones that have happened in the book so far. Maybe there are exchanges of secrets.

Also, I found another person with a last initial of H. First, "Kathy H." on page three, and "Carole H." on page thirty-two. Maybe the carers get last initials of H. when they grow up.

"But if you really want to share secrets . . ."

"'It didn't hurt, did it? When I hit you?'

'Sure. Fractured skull. Concussion, the lot. Even Crow Face might notice it. That's if I ever get up there'" (Never Let Me Go, 14).

In A Separate Peace in your pants, I remember reading about the dangers of sarcasm. "It was only long after that I recognized sarcasm as the protest of people who are weak." Often, I'm a fan of sarcasm, but in this case, it reveals weakness in Kathy. Tommy is being super apologetic and sincere, and instead of returning that, she hides behind a shield of sarcasm. She also denies Tommy's sincerity at the end of chapter two -- "'Don't talk rubbish, Tommy'" (24) -- so their characters are at odds with the whole issue of sarcasm versus sincerity.

There's something that's been bothering me in these first two chapters, and I think it's a setting thing. Kathy keeps introducing a place as "where you go to have private conversations" and then moving to a different private setting every five pages. I'm nooot quite sure why we can't just stick to one or two; maybe it's really important, like a motif. Really important that I know the characters can have private conversations in the pavilion (6), in the dorm (15), in the Great Hall (22), by the lake (24), in a box, with a fox, in a plane, or on a train. Not those last four, but it still seems excessive to me.

Mmm, I can't read about the Great Hall without at least posting a picture of it:

Recurring Motifs

"'But what were your rhymes?' Bernard asked.

'They were about being alone'" (Brave New World, 181).

1. Individualism: I've mentioned this one several times, but a new aspect of it in chapter twelve is solitude. Helmholtz got into trouble because he recited a poem about being alone. Solitude is important for people, especially for introverts, and it's not an option for people in this book because the civilized world is all about "everyone belongs to everyone else," or something.

2. Language: Helmholtz and John are both very interested in the power of words. Shakespeare is a master of this, so I'm glad Huxley used him as his prime example. Words are what made Mustapha Mond think Bernard's paper was too dangerous, and they are what made Helmholtz start "guffawing" (184) after the third act of Romeo and Juliet. Also, I want to know the meaning of what John was shouting at Bernard at the beginning of chapter twelve.

3. Utopias: They never work. I mean, it's debatable, but usually authors are against them. One thing that's interesting in utopias is that they typically avoid money. Laborers in the civilized world are paid with "four half-gramme tablets" (164) of soma. I think facilitating the exchange of goods with money is important, but I understand how it raises complications like greed and theft. Also, I hate pennies.

That's juuuust what I'm thinking right now. Watch the book completely shift its main ideas -- I wouldn't put it past Huxley.