Heroines (The Nearly-Not-Belated Blogger - "Tabula Rasa")

Ooh, look, a cool new logo/banner thing! Looking great! [Madison, was that you?]

What makes a hero? That’s a difficult question. Buffy and Catherine are both morally exemplary individuals. True, Buffy is a Chosen One – but her moral exemplariness doesn’t derive from that. In “Tabula Rasa”, when her memories are wiped, she still rises to the occasion. Jason Kawal writes in his article “Should we do what Buffy would do?” that Buffy is characterized by both heroic actions, overcoming what most people would be afraid of, like attacking the Vampires to give her friends (even though she doesn’t remember them) a chance to escape, and saintly actions – I can’t recall any from this episode, but her general state of not going out and dropping out of school for her duties as a Slayer instead of living a normal life, the acts of sacrifice she performs (major one at the end of Season 5) – those are considered “saintly” (Kawal 151-152).

Catherine is not heroic, and is hardly saintly. She is too scared when her candle goes out to even bring the mysterious washing bills she found back to her bed, and the small sacrifices (dancing with Thorpe when she wanted to dance with Tilney) are too small to earn the title saintly. Though those are the only patterns based on strong moral convictions that Kawal discusses in his work, he does not deny that they do not make a person moral; rather they are because of the virtues one possesses.

It seems at first that Buffy may be a better moral role model. She possesses virtues such as “courage,” and “bravery,” as well as “caring” amidst others. Catherine is only mildly courageous – but she is much more truthful than Buffy. They have a trade-off of virtues. Interestingly, in Kawal’s article, he discusses the difference between the pure bravery that Buffy has (she’s not afraid most of the time) versus the will-power bravery Xander has (he is afraid, but he has the will-power to surge ahead anyway) (Kawal 151-152). Perhaps something similar happens with Buffy: while she seems to be inherently kind and brave, perhaps the rest of her virtues are “will-power virtues”, where Catherine has “pure virtues” – that is, her patience, honesty, humility, and high opinion of human worth comes naturally where Buffy my only feel or exhibit them on occasion due to her high moral will-power. Neither type of morality is worse than the other.

Kawal even wrote a segment called “Heroism not Required,” in which he discusses the notion of “supererogatory actions,” that is, when someone goes above and beyond either their own or another’s moral call of duty (Kawal  156-157). As a Slayer, Buffy’s duties (which she often exceeds) are supererogatory to Catherine, a normal girl. Perhaps, then, that makes Catherine, with her moral fortitude (even after she realizes how people, at least in England, are grey rather than black and white, she does not lower her actions or self-standards) makes a better role model for us normal people. Kawal ends by stating that because of our differences in personality and position, we should not, when in a tough spot, ask what Buffy would do, but ask “What would Buffy think we should do?” (Kawal 158-159). I say we can ask the same of Catherine. Although, quite true, she can be a little simplistic, so perhaps that mayn’t be my first choice all the time… but if the Catherine at the end of the novel were to listen to herself, I’m sure her choices would be morally right ones, if not always the morals I would like.



Kawal, Jason. “Should We Do What Buffy Would Do?” Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy: Fear and Trembling in Sunnydale. Eds. South, James B and William Irwin. London: Open Court, 2004. 149-159.

PS. After those last two episodes we watched: would you rather loose your voice or your memory?

Also, happy midterm y'all!

And, another song (lyrics on the youtube page, under more information): 

[Heroines - Diablo Swing Orchestra]

The Belated Blogger: Hush (Imagine if you were blind!)

We saw in this episode how a mass loss of voice could effect society/our main characters. They relied on each other differently: in person, with gestures and touches (one could argue, more personably). They (Riley and Buffy mostly) found other uses for their mouths (finally kissing). When their relationships were “all talk” (Buffy describing her and Riley) they kept more secrets from each other than when there was no talk (granted they were battling a crisis, so they couldn’t really focus on creating or concealing secrets – but nor could they explain them away, such as when Riley and Buffy finally saw each other battling demons). 

It’s weird, typing this in a voiceless room, devoid of other people or my own voice (no reason or inclination to talk aloud). It’s actually sort of normal: but because of the nature of this blog post, I’m oddly conscious of it. But I digress.

In Dracula we also saw the importance of communication. The whole story is communicated to us through diaries, either spoken or written, normally or in short-hand, telegraphs, and memos, which were then typed up by Mina, so that in the end it is all, also, non-vocal communication. Without this communication, the story would not exist. It is the framework within which Stoker has set his story, as something that was and is communicated. (And thus achieving an element of scary-ness and empirical realism, as well as a sure way of switching perspectives, in a way listening to characters’ dialogue cannot. Though they eventually knew that the rest of the crew would read their diaries, did not censor them the way dialogue inevitably is. Back to that whole secrets-when-talking thing.)

And of course, Northanger Abby explores communication, specifically proper Victorian communication. (Again, though, the story is communicated to us, this time via an outside [if not impartial] observer.) What to say, what not to say, how and when to say it—if we have our voices, how do we use them? Catherine learns to become a little more discerning as the story progresses, and not speak all that she has learned how to speak; as well as how to interpret to an extent what others are saying. And though often characters in the book say things that mean or are other than what they appear at face value (her whole being at the Abby was a product of exaggeration and false/faulty communication), and Catherine learns to understand this, she, our heroine, retains her inability to speak lies.  [Hey look, more relation to speaking and secrets in Northanger Abby – only with a twist! Catherine, who doesn’t know the nuances of speech or how to speak properly all the time, exhibits and retains virtue of being unable to conceal fully (a.k.a. lie) via speech, like those around her.]

While this episode of Buffy is the most obvious exploration of communication, it certainly keeps showing up everywhere. That aside, while I was watching the episode I was wondering what I would be like for a blind person in Sunnydale. I guess you could arrange baby tomatoes into brail sentences… if tomatoes were in season….

Buffy vs. Dracula: The Belated Blogger is Back: Buffy Beats Bloodsucking Bat

Buffy vs. Dracula – who will win? Buffy, of course: even under Dracula’s legendary control. Or is she? Throughout the episode each character either gains or loses control – Giles with the Three Sisters, Xander with Dracula, Riley (in general – his post-Initiative feelings), and of course the struggle between Buffy and Dracula (though Spike and Riley might be the most interesting control issue).

Just as the characters in the episode deal with issues of control, the episode (I’d say, unintentionally) brings up issues of what controls the gothic. That is to say, is “the Gothic” ruled by old texts, like Dracula, and how much can contemporary texts change or influence what is perceived as Gothic? Can a new text be considered Gothic without any basis on the old?

A characteristic of Gothic is the dichotomy of old and new, which is very present in Dracula.  One could think of it as a subset of the ethnic, exotic conflict (epitomized by the age-old East/West issue) – for time, as place, can lead to exoticisms. Is not the future exotic, intriguing – dangerous? Do not we romanticize certain periods of the past (for example, steampunk… and pirates)?

I realize I just used three paragraphs to ask a series of questions, most of which I consider rhetorical. The question that I’m about to attempt to answer in the next few paragraphs is why did Whedon wait until the 5^th season to bring in Dracula, and by exploring this question, attempt to provide insight to the issues of the old texts control on the Gothic, and what new Gothic has to offer.

Dracula is one of the prime texts we think of when we, modern consumers, think of “the Gothic,” though ironically it was one of the later Gothic texts (perhaps that is why it came into our cultural conscience: good timing, right around the turn of the century/midst of the Second Industrial Revolution).  On our part, looking back, it has come to symbolizing all that the original Gothic has to offer, in all its glory. In the time in between Dracula and “Buffy”, Dracula has been imagined, parodied, paid homage to, and redone in different media (specifically film) many times.

Whedon needed to set up a new vision of Gothic, in order to juxtapose it: hence, the episode is in the fifth season, and not earlier. By already having established his characters, plot devices, and variations on the Vampire mythos, he is able to contrast them and explore where they fit in with both the original design of Dracula and the cultural perspective that has developed over the century.  (Buffy premiered 100 years after Dracula was first published.)

Let’s take the character of Renfield-Xander: Whedon references Renfield, and Xander takes on some of Renfield’s characteristics (eating bugs, for example, though he does so grudgingly and like he’s compelled to more than desirous of). There’s only so much resemblance that the audience gets the connection, and some of it is based on cultural reimaginings of the Dracula story­––for example, though in the book Renfield escapes to go to his master, in the Buffy episode Xander repeatedly grovels and calls Dracula names like “Dark Prince,” seen nowhere in the book, but found later culturally (see “Dark Prince: The True Story of Dracula” TV 2000). What Joss Whedon did was to see where his characters fit in with the Dracula story and mythos—hence why Xander is the one chosen to represent Renfield, using his character that had been developed over the past four seasons. He’s the somewhat helpless friend, who usually says crazy things and isn’t taken seriously (just as Renfield, crazy man in a sanitarium, isn’t a prime candidate for being taken seriously). With this, the two characters are able to mesh—but also, Whedon is able to add something to Xander. We all remember the line Xander delivers at the end, in reference to his near-constant position in Buffy: “I'm finished being everybody's butt monkey!” This is no longer another version of Renfield, but rather something that has happened to Xander.

This self-referencing makes it such a great episode. Referencing earlier seasons, and old Gothic texts, and the ways old Gothic texts have been viewed in the past century, referencing the supposed basis of Dracula (Vlad the Impaler) and working him into the series cannon and workings, yet retaining/explaining the Dracula mythos within it (I’m referring to the scene with Spike)—it’s wonderful.

And then we come to Buffy, and here Whedon really shows his hand and tips things on their head. The closest thing to our Stalwart Female Hero in the book is Mina. Mina succumbs to Dracula’s “thrall,” though she doesn’t want to, she is powerless to stop it, despite her great heroism. Buffy at first seems the same—but then she shows that she is no Mina, no Gothic staple, but powerful and dark, stronger than Dracula. She is not like anything Dracula has faced before, if not in idea than in execution. And just as in the book, Dracula’s death signifies “old world, you’ve been fun, and we couldn’t have done it without you, but it’s British Empire time now so die,” in the show, Dracula’s staking signifies “old text, you’ve been fun, and we couldn’t have done it without you, but it’s Buffy time now so die.”

So rather than including the old text out of necessity, Whedon uses it as a device to further his own new Gothic, a Gothic which stands alone from, though it is not separate from, the old texts.

And that’s what I have to say about that.

Now here’s a song.

[Xandria – Vampire]

They’re another Dutch symphonic-metal band.

“So would you kiss the sun goodbye?
And give your life to never die?”

[Click here for Lyrics]

The Belated Blogger: Inca Mummy Girl ...ahhhh Virtue, Vice... Vampires....

Within “Inca Mummy Girl” and “Carmilla” we see marked examples of the dangers (and allure) of the Exotic. However, rather than just presenting the exotic elements as ultimately bad, the texts shows glimpses of the exotic other’s own perspective and moralities. Both also explore the role of the female, with female villains and female protagonists.

Something I’ve been paying attention to in our explorations of “the Gothic” (and in life in general) is the idea of different moralities. What’s moral for a demon and what’s moral for a human are different – and outside of the Gothic we see this idea all the time – morality of the rich versus the poor [this is a really, really big one, even if it isn't discussed as much as, say, the following example], the Christian versus the Islamic—even ancient Greece viewed the world as continuously East (Troy/Persia/Asia) versus West. We see that in “Living Conditions”: Kathy’s demon morality vs. Buffy’s human morality (apparently, the demon culture doesn’t have or value college). We see this in “Inca Mummy Girl” – the whole idea of a human sacrifice is foreign to us – a very different kind of Chosen One. Carmilla makes a big deal of her different morality, such as when the topic of religion is brought up, and she says, “'Besides, how can you tell that your religion and mine are the same; your forms wound me, and I hate funerals.'” (“Carmilla” LeFanu, ch. 4) Yet in all cases, though it is considered wrong by the authors for Kathy, Ampata, and Carmilla to take lives in order to survive, it is considered ok for the demons themselves to get killed.

Carmilla brings up an interesting twist on that. Her former human lover pretends to kill the vampire Carmilla, so that she may go on living (Ampata’s lover, Xander, won’t do that for her – though she is killing his friends). However, when the General and crew kill Carmilla, Laura feel’s no compassion for the girl who had been living with her (and admittedly, killing her slowly). Likewise, when Kathy is sent back to her hellish dimension, no one gives a hoot. But while Ampata is dispatched without qualms, afterwards, Buffy feels for her – just as the reader can connect to the Gothic (in the case of Buffy, anyone who is in or has been in a highschool, which inevitable seems like hell at times), Buffy could relate to Ampata (both of the were “Chosen Ones,” girls serving a greater good without their own choice), prompting Buffy to say “Ampata wasn’t evil—at least, not in the beginning” and “She was gypt.” Even though Buffy recognized the necessity and her duty as Chosen One in ending Ampata’s corporeal existence, she can pity her, knowing what she goes through and feeling as she feels: the real person behind the mummy.

Ampata herself says, “I want to fit in, Buffy—just like you, a normal life.” Different moralities, different viewpoints—what she sees as normal, what she wants, Buffy sees as strange, crazy (though Buffy certainly got the better version of the “Chosen One” deal).  This perhaps helps Buffy to come to better terms with her task as Slayer.

Both sets of characters being female is also integral. It certainly allows the protagonists to relate to the antagonists, especially in the case of Buffy I just outlined. “Carmilla” isn’t much of a feminist text – Laura is mostly helpless, and serves solely as the narrator/point-of-view the story is told from. Carmilla herself, though a powerful woman, isn’t much of a feminist symbol either, considering she’s evil and must be destroyed without any feeling (and while she embraces her sexual aspects, it doesn’t seem empowering). Both Buffy and Ampata can be seen as feminist though – the article we read by Byers outlines ways in which Buffy and the series in general can be viewed as feminist. Ampata, though the “bad guy,” is described as not being intentionally evil. She is, like Buffy, a powerful and important female – as I’ve mentioned, she is a Chosen One for the Greater Good of her people. She’s more powerful and important than the males she ends up destroying, even her manly “bodyguard.” She embodies the destructive force view of feminism, in a way Carmilla cannot. And though she is put down, it is not without acknowledgement of what she went through by the main characters, and how their differences, different moralities, (which can also fit in with feminism) shaped their behaviors. (Curiously, unlike Carmilla, she at first resists the destructive force of her sexuality. I don’t quite feel qualified to make a claim as to weather this is more or less feministic. It certainly brings up more issues of morality. ;] )

*PS. Please don't kill me for anything I said about feminism. There are a lot of different views about feminism, and I am not sufficiently well-versed on any to feel confident in proclaiming a veiw-point.

The Belated Blogger: Living Conditions [It's the Fear]

This has been sitting on my computer for some time now, and, running on three hours of sleep, I've gotten over my trepidation at posting such a scattered thing. However, I do think that if I am to start posting, I should start posting -- and if any of you are in need of commenting on post of the first few episodes we watched in class, I have more to follow.

Two things struck me most about “Living Conditions”: 1) The exploration of fear, and 2) Kathy’s motivation. (Both items, I’d argue, stem from Gothic elements.)

Ok. No surprise that the Gothic and fear have a long history. Some of the fear is that big, epic, cultural fear (we saw a lot of that in Dracula): the “it’s coming, end of time fear, the larger-than-ourselves, inevitable” fear. But what’s particularly great about some Gothic Lit, and this episode in particular, is personal fear. Individual fear. One of the most attractive elements of “the Gothic” is the identification with the reader/audience, and it’s ability to deal with more “me” oriented scenarios – and fears. It’s one of the ways the Gothic can easily relate to its readers: fears shared between the main characters and the readers.

In the case of the Buffy episode, these fears would have to do with going to college and dealing with a roommate. The interesting thing is that Buffy becomes these fears that she has: the personal fear is a bad, crazy roommate (Buffy’s is a demon roommate); Buffy becomes just as bad a roommate as Kathy is. For a while there, she appears to be a worse (read: murderous) roommate, but then we find out Kathy is a demon and is stealing Buffy’s soul (with the end effect being that Buffy would be sent to a demon dimension for Kathy’s personal gain).

Which brings me to part two. Though stealing your roommate’s soul so that she’ll be teleported to another dimension instead of you is certainly immoral (trust me, you soulless demons out there who don’t know wrong from right [and thus can be argued to be innocent, whereas murderous Buffy knows better – though she is losing her soul, so.], stealing souls is bad. Don’t do it. Just say no), the reason Kathy  did so was so she could go to college and get an education like a normal person. (She might even have felt bad about it afterwards when she had a soul!)

That brings me to a third idea: this something special, something human: soul. We know it doesn’t make people good or bad – though I suppose part of the idea is, without a soul, it’s easier to do great badness, because it’s the nature of many a soulless beast, whereas with a soul, it’s worse, because it means something is broken within you that should be stopping you from killing/doing bad.

Anyway, back to college: Isn’t that a good thing, a good motive? She’s trying to escape the tyranny of her people, and Buffy sent her back to them. So there wasn’t much Kathy could do in the way of requesting asylum, and she didn’t even try, but Buffy condemned her (though it was only through an act of self-preservation) to live out her live according to her culture, not according to her own individual path (which is something us American’s *claim* to value).

Kathy wants to become like Buffy (or what Buffy stands for to her: a normal student); Buffy ends up becoming like Kathy (or her perception of Kathy: a bitchy demon). We become our fears, we become what we fight: An example of the ever-present dichotomy in Goth [conveniently tying Fear, Kathy’s motivation, and the Gothic together]. (Hitchcock used that in his movies too, btws. Um. Yeah.)

It's also like the lyrics from the song below (from a Dutch symphonic rock/metal band, often classified as Gothic, though the band members do not consider it to be a Gothic band):

I fear who I am becoming, 
I feel that I am losing the struggle within 
I can no longer restrain it, 
My strength, it is fading 
I have to give in

Though, Buffy did not actually seem to feel or fear what was happening to her (so it's actually the opposite of this song: she became who she feared). I'll leave you contemplating the difference between the two ideas.



[It’s the Fear – Within Temptation] 

(*The sound quality isn't as good I would have liked, but I thought the lyrics would be nice, and the other videos didn't have them.)

Tabula Rasa: Tara and Catherine Morland

Tara plays a larger role in this episode, and really in this season than previously, and what interested me were the similarities and differences between her character and that of Jane Austen’s Catherine Morland from Northanger Abbey. Tara and Catherine both act as the challenge to the “impolite” friend’s behavior. Tara threatens to leave Willow unless Willow cleans up her act, and Catherine expresses incredulity at Isabella’s behavior, although the culture / society in which she lives prevents her from confronting Isabella as frankly as Tara confronts Willow. Further, Tara is not portrayed as a heroine in Buffy, in fact I might argue that her confrontation with Willow in this episode and her courage of conviction in her decision to leave is when she is strongest. Tara is a little backwards compared to Catherine though, as Catherine is struggling to obey the dictates of society while Tara defies them with her language and actions. Catherine allows Isabella to permeate her opinions for a while, while Tara immediately rebels against Willow’s overuse of magic. It is this juxtaposition that surprisingly throws Tara’s character into a new light: she can be very emotionally strong. But then of course this also highlights Catherine’s emotional weaknesses. Honestly now that I’ve explored these two characters as they compare and contrast to one another I’m more convinced than ever that Catherine is a poor excuse for a heroine. Even the shy stutterer Tara out-shines her, especially in the area of presence of mind and courage to confront. Looks like Austen did an excellent job if she was in fact trying to make Catherine Morland a total parody of a heroine: fearful, clueless, and impressionable, with little sense of self.

The Scream

For my article, I chose Kelly Kromer’s “Silence as a Symptom: A Psychoanalytic Reading of Hush.” I was very intrigued by her view of speech as a conduit that is responsible for establishing “cultural codes of conduct and policing the actions of individuals.” There’s a common phrase that I’m sure everyone has heard: “Actions speak louder than words.” And yet, vocal interaction is so much more common than the physical – that it has the power to for and police something as great as a society shows how the potential for the physical in bringing people together. I don’t mean this in solely a sexual way; the image of the silent students in the lunchroom with the one silent, crying girl, stuck out to me a lot in this episode. Physical representations of emotion are so much stronger than vocal declarations of it, in that they are more genuine, less controlled. It also serves as an equalizer, because words are something particular to a person, while physical emotion (crying, hugging, smiling) is something universal.

The reason that I fin Hush to be so disturbing is that the cause-effect relationship between fear and voice is fear and the scream. And the scream signifies so many things: it is our vocal embodiment of fear, our cry for help, and our warning to others. The little lullaby that the young blonde girl sings really evokes the alarming nature of losing this ability to scream: “You’re gonna die screaming but you won’t be heard,” which evokes the helplessness that is created by this imposed silence.

Another consequence of removing voice from the episode is found in that Whedon forces the viewer to become an active part of the show. The viewer must read the characters’ signs, interpret their motions, and analyze and layer the images and music to and understand actions and moods, because nothing is explained for them. This isn’t an episode that you can turn away from for a moment and not miss a thing – and, consequently, the viewer is more invested in the episode, more invested in the frightening images, and is undeniably drawn to wonder what they would do if they lost their voice.

<3 Lisa

http://slayageonline.com/essays/slayage19/Kromer.htm