Elite Head, or Elite Heart?

Well, this is it…the final blog post for AP Lit Senior year. I thought it would get easier as I blogged, but that has not been the case whatsoever. In keeping with my big blog question of “Who are the elite?” I had to take a step back from the extremely difficult book that I recently finished: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce, in order to try to fit this book with my question, but I think I found it—is there a difference between religious and intellectual elitism?

In the novel, the main character, Stephen Daedalus varies his intellectual interests between carrying out Catholicism and delving deeper into intellectual schooling, leaving his old views of the world behind. After Stephen’s act of impurity at a brothel and mandated return to the Church (through his Jesuit education) to hear a long sermon about hell, he seems to change his ways and understand the damnation he could receive without repenting for his sins. Yet Stephen still does not know whether he is truly sorry for his sins or afraid of hell: “Perhaps, concerned only for his imminent doom, he had not had sincere sorrow for his sin?” (Joyce 147). This quote demonstrates the complexity of Stephen’s intellectual mindset, he switches between completely intellectual, decoding his thoughts and feelings on the subject of his repentance, and very subordinate to the Church, knowing that repenting his sins is the only way he will not go to hell. Even though Stephen does go through this change between his religious life and his strictly intellectual life it seems that he believes that he is more elite than anyone else in either position. During his time in pursuing absolute holiness, Stephen believes that he can come to a point in his life where he rarely sins, and tries to be a perfect child of God. Instead, his intellectual approach to his quest for holiness leaves him wanting more and feeling more elite than others around him, even turning down an opportunity to become a priest. Stephen then transitions to a complete intellectual, strictly devoting his life to his studies and ensuring that he is right on all accounts and in all ways, arguing with anyone who has the guts to try and stand up to Stephen. Stephen has an elitist’s perspective with either of his lenses throughout the book, thus maybe illustrating the notion that it is not who is elite, but who believes that they are elite?

A Convincing Identity

To convince oneself is hard enough; to convince others is sometimes near impossible. Convincing a person that they are free after a life of servitude and slavery will probably never truly happen, yet a person’s identity is still shaped by their experiences and their mind may change as their lives transform. So, is there elitism in a person’s identity? Being elite and being a freed slave or a descendant of one seems to be a juxtaposed idea when thinking about the times of slavery in the United States, yet Toni Morrison’s book Beloved seems to take on this idea of a person’s elitism within understanding their identity.

With the arrival of the character Beloved, the ghost of a murdered baby in human form, the mother, Sethe, sacrifices everything to keep Beloved happy. Sethe’s identity is shaped around her life as a murderer of her own child, and Beloved takes advantage of this fact, making Sethe feel guilty when she is not playing with, feeding or helping Beloved. Why then does Sethe continue to shape her identity around Beloved’s needs when she convinced herself that she sacrificed Beloved to keep her safe? Does Sethe actually believe that her actions were justified, or did Sethe convince herself of this? Sethe’s struggle to overcome her identity as a murderer is ultimately conquered when she abandons 124 along with her past, manifested in Beloved, falling into open arms of the townspeople that were so afraid of her for so long.

Does Sethe’s ability to finally release her from the grip of Beloved make her identity any more elite than others identities? Every person’s identity is shaped by many different factors in life, many of which cannot be controlled, so can we really judge who each of us are, or what we do with our identity?

Equal Elites?

What makes a “stranger” so distant from ourselves? Perhaps this question would be too abstract for an existentialist such as Albert Camus, author of The Stranger, but it seems to be fitting after recently finishing this book. In the 21^st century, the connotation of a stranger has a negative response. The brainwashing phrase “don’t talk to strangers” has many people high-tailing themselves away from the unknown.

The detached feelings of not personally knowing someone leaves one believing that they are better than this mysterious person. When reading The Stranger, many of my peers, including myself, could not relate to Meursault and his indifferent attitude towards his life circumstances. Is this the reason that Camus created the main character to be so uncaring or because we, as readers, cannot connect to an unreasonable murderer? Meursault’s crime of killing an Arab, seemingly without regret, is a foreign topic to many readers, one that many may not know how to react. His simple mannerisms and way of living seems to complicate the minds of readers and analysts alike. Some are sympathetic towards his predicament, while others believe he should be justly punished for his crime. Could those who want justice believe themselves to be better than Meursault? We, as readers, may believe that we are more elite than Meursault because we did not kill and are not awaiting an immediate death. In the same way, not naming the characters only described as “Arabs”, Camus creates a feeling of superiority over those that are attacked. The unnamed Arabs detach the reader from ever feeling sorry for the crime being committed because of a lack of connection; therefore many readers may feel that they are better off than a nameless Arab.

In my opinion, I believe that The Stranger changed my view of who exactly the elite are described to be. The book is deceptive in creating a feeling of superiority up until the end, when Meursault is honest with himself in knowing that he will be killed for killing. Although I may have thought of myself as better than Meursault throughout most of the book, his understanding of death creates equality among all people. Do elites really exist when the equality of death is imminent?

“Who are the elite?” does not quite seem like the right question after reading Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky, but then again, is there any specific question that does fit this difficult novel? I don’t think that there is a definitive answer to any question asked about this novel, but rather a discussion about topics that aren’t thought about or discussed on a daily basis: extraordinary vs. ordinary, sacrifice, religion, justice and questions defining these broad topics.

A question seems not the right answer, but a mere extension of the books juxtaposition of so many universal topics. To look at each character individually creates an understanding of Dostoevsky’s intention to describe the alienation of each character against society in communist Russia. No one is truly elite in almost any sense. Monetarily, Svidrigailov (who ends up committing suicide) is not elite. Intelligence-wise, Raskolnikov (who ends up in prison for his crime) could not be considered to be such a leading citizen. Luzhin (a classy yet self-absorbed person) loses his fiancé for being such. Although each of these characters seems to have justice come upon them in their “punishment”, each does not understand the reason for being so. Dostoevsky uses religious elements within this book to allude to the justice of each crime not only through earthly justice but also divine justice; giving the reader a universal truth that justice will ultimately be served.

Does Being Happy Make you Elite?

Although it is easy to assume King Lear is the character with the most power, does he really have anything under his control? He can barely keep himself sane. Regan and Goneril seem to not have themselves in order either, believing that they can lie, steal, and cheat their way into power. In this case, could the elite be those who are happy?

They say “money can’t buy you happiness”. But these days, money can buy you Botox to make it look like a person is smiling, nice cars, and other luxurious items, just why can’t money buy happiness? Shakespeare’s play King

Lear seems to answer this question nicely with each of his characters. Regan and Goneril die displeased and doomed with all the power they can have. They had control over kingdoms, access to men (Edmund), and servants to do away with their father, and yet they still died angry and wanting more.

On the other hand, Lear and Gloucester come to terms with what they have done and understand their failings and misfortunes. Eventually finding the truth and happiness in their devout children, both die rather peacefully and almost in harmony with their fate. Shakespeare uses death as the great equalizer in this play, illuminating the differences between power and happiness, only to have the former taken away. So for those of us that are happy, should we feel elite?

Oedipus the Elite?

The elite are many times the ones with the power. In the case of Oedipus by Sophocles, Oedipus’ title, wealth, and consequent threat of power allows for the fated Oedipus to consider his oracle as false. As King and savior of Thebes, his pride only adds to his idea of being elite. When the “blind seer” Teiresias is pressed for Oedipus’ oracle, Oedipus lashes out because of the outrageous prophesy that is already set in motion, “Kingly position, everywhere admired! What savage envy is stored up against these…if for this power Kreon desires in secret to destroy me!” (366-372). Oedipus believes that his power and title can save him from his own fate, as an elite he is able to control circumstances around him, thus more quickly leading to his demise.

Oedipus’ demise is a tragedy. In many tragedies, the elite have farther to fall and a harder hit when they fall. Oedipus demonstrates this perfectly when he realizes that he has sealed his fate by fleeing from his “family” and into murdering his father and marrying his mother. Guilty of regicide and incest among other assertions, Oedipus’ “elite” status allows for a false sense of control over his fate. The farther he falls, and the harder he hits, makes everything about Oedipus so much more tragic, “No mortal eyes but looked on him with envy, yet in the end ruin swept over him” (1472-1473). The chorus states the rejection of Oedipus at the end of the play, while readers and play-goers alike breathe a sigh of relief that as mostly commoners, the fall is not so far. Do we, as readers, relate to Oedipus’ tragic fall as much as we should? Oedipus is believed to be elite, so can only true tragedy happen to the elite?

Sophocles. Oedipus. London: Nick Hern, 2001. Print.

Who Are the Elite?

Democracy, we must spread it. Capitalism, we must enforce it. Freedoms, we must preach them. Rarely do we, as Americans, believe that we should change to fit others ways. In a culture where we BELIEVE to be superior, who truly are the elite?

Elitists can be traced throughout history, starting with the beginning of time; from arrogant kings and Jews in the Bible, to well-known philosophers and wars, elitists have tried, and many times succeeded, in changing others ways. Americans specifically have had numerous attempts to spread varying beliefs. The Manifest Destiny in the 19^th century gave reason to expand across the continent of North America, but who says we have stopped? Expansion may not be continental, but surely we continue to conquer the minds and beliefs of other people.

Continue on now to the problems facing us today. Not only do we enforce our beliefs onto other countries and cultures, we ensure their immediate success with power and threats. What happens after that is not our problem, because until recently, the façade of perfection was one aspect that many people believed. Even now that our flaws are blatant and glaring we still believe that with our power and “money” we will come out on top. Our government is of the opinion that money and resources are infinite, therefore conveying a false sense of superiority.

The Price family in The Poisonwood Bible believed that not only was their religion superior, but their thoughts were as well. Reverend Price, a Baptist minister, and his family attempted to convert many Congolese people during the 1960’s. Not only did the Congolese reject many teachings, they also rejected many ways of western thinking. Questions such as why majority rules, and how come sharing is not a virtue for Americans were brought up through the people of the village of Kilanga. The author, Barbara Kingsolver slightly satirized the western beliefs by illustrating the hardships the family suffered through by using American customs and beliefs in a war-torn, dusty village in the Congo.

Who was right? Are elitists who we think they are? This word must either change definition over time, or the people must change their beliefs on this word. This cannot be simple.