Jane Eyre & Zombies

The nerdy kid that lives inside of me actually loves finding old essays from class ;)

This was written for my Literature and Film Class in the Fall of 2013.

Its kinda long, but also kinda interesting- the movie was fantastic if you would want to check it out! Nothing quite like old horror films....Enjoy!

Not yo mama's Jane

Jane Eyre Revisited
Charlotte Bronte’s classic Victorian novel Jane Eyre uses a first person narrative to illustrate the life of the title character as she moves from her wretched childhood dependent on relatives, to her time spent at Lowood getting an education and then also teaching at the charity school for the poor. The majority of the novel, however, focuses on her adult life as a governess, school teacher, and finally wife to her former employer all while provocatively exploring alternatives to long-held beliefs about the role of women, marriage, and the benevolent sexism that ran rampant in 19^th century English society. Jacques Tourney’s 1943 film, I Walked With a Zombie, is thematically very similar to Jane Eyre, with specific parallels between then two immediately evident. The film originally places our protagonist as the narrator and focus of the story, but she is later shuffled to the background as our attention is shifted from her job and later love story to the circumstances surrounding the mysterious illness of her employer’s wife. Betsy, our heroine, is not even an active player in the final scene, but functions only as a bystander as the wife she is brought to St. Sebastian to treat is lifelessly carried past. By minimizing the impact of heterosexual love on the direction of the plot, being set in an exotic location, and the presence of a supernatural voodoo culture coexisting with normal society, I Walked With a Zombie reimagines Jane Eyre not simply as another adaptation of the novel, but as a modernized reworking of the classic tale that borrows specific elements from the Jane Eyre template while simultaneously introducing an independent storyline.

Jane Eyre has been adapted time and again as a tale of a morally upstanding young heroine, determined to rely on her own devices as she navigates her way through the world. The heroine grapples through out each retelling with her demand for autonomy and the masculine pressures she encounters along her journey. Zombie, however, does not strike one as fitting so neatly into this categorical grouping of ideas. In Zombie, Betsy is not shown as coming from a long life of misfortune and heartache like our young Jane, nor is she shown as a woman striving to prove to herself or to others that she is capable of self-sufficiency. In fact, Zombie minimizes the question of gender ideals, however misogynist or female suppressing they may be, in exchange for the eeriness of the sugarcane fields at night and the spook factor of voodoo rituals. Although the heroine indeed does fall in love with her employer, reminiscent of Mr. Rochester and Thornhill, the meat of Zombie is focused more so on the illness and treatment of Mrs. Holland than the love affair of Betsy and Paul.

Both mediums explore the darker side of marriage. Film and novel both work to challenge the notion that someday a handsome prince will come to provide the happily ever after that women are culturally trained to expect, if not demand. Being married is not equivalent to being happy, as the wives unfortunately both find out.   Jane Eyre places Bertha Mason locked in an attic because of her “insanity” which is taken at face value from Mr. Rochester and his account of their marriage. It is left to the reader to question her sanity before her rejection of her marriage vows: is she being punished for her promiscuity and for not conforming to the feminine ideal? In I Walked with a Zombie, Jessica Holland is infected by an island fever that “burned parts of her spinal column,” as we’re told by her doctor. The fever leaves her in a zombie-like state of consciousness, her trance never lifting to hint at her past self. She interestingly falls ill the very day after she lets her husband know she is leaving him for his brother, Wesley, and he forbids her to go. Both film and novel use mental illness to punish the ill-behaving wives, while the husbands are both left to romantically do as he pleases, despite playing leading roles in the unhappy marriages.

The angle that Zombie takes through minimizing heterosexual relationships and focusing on the supernatural can be interpreted as simply a more exciting version of the overplayed, stereotypical love story; zombies being, of course, the minor, but entertaining, twist. Jane Eyre uses romance with Mr. Rochester as a major influence on the life trajectory of the protagonist, to the point that we find Jane basing her work and place of residence on him and his actions.  The film, however, seems to glaze over the attractive between Betsy and Paul, although when viewing, the scene that Betsy decides she loves Paul and declares she must make Jessica better for him came as a little too much of a surprise; the two seemed to interact only on a professional level until this point. Instead of an influential piece of the plot like in the novel, the romantic side-story is a minor detail in relation to the importance of the circumstances regarding Jessica. The film is seemingly divided into two separate pieces: the first aimed to cater to Betsy, her narration, and her viewpoint; a secondary shifting happens when a broader view of the servants, the local culture, and the bigger picture regarding Jessica’s character. Once Betsy and Jessica go to the houmfort, where the servants gather to practice their magic, the sound of drums permeate the island air and are glaringly present until the film’s end, clearing marking the separation point and reminding the viewer where attention should be directed.

Although there are prevailing similarities in themes in both the novel and the movie adaptation, the basic stories are separated very distinctly by the setting: Zombie’s tropical island setting of St. Sebastian with its mysterious Voodoo culture, versus Jane Eyre’s strikingly contrasted upper-class British countryside (main) setting of Thornhill. The society driven novel dictates that Jane frame herself to Rochester’s expectations: she is to be in his company when he demands, despite her paid job is only that of Adele’s governess; she is to marry him in secret and to move far away because that is his wish; and finally to run away from her job, from her home, and from his misery because he puts her in a position where she feels she cannot stay. Also, when Jane comes back to him, she is put in a different kind of oppression as she is now both nurse and servant to Rochester. Next, the primal, native driven film begins as a straight-forward narrative, until diverging markedly from expectations after Nurse Betsy brings Jessica to the houmfort. The film’s awareness noticeable shifts here from Betsy, to something greater in importance than simply herself. It is while Betsy talks to Mrs. Rand-who is posing as a voodoo doctor-that one of the natives wielding a sword cuts Jessica; that she did not bleed and that Mrs. Rand frequents the houmfort both work to add tension to the story and continue the climbing motion toward the film’s climax. The sugarcane fields, the drumbeats and chanting, and finally the bones and relics the women pass on their journey to the houmfort all function to continue to add mystery to the film.

Jane Eyre has certain supernatural elements, but not nearly to the degree of Zombie. References to Jane as being of “elf-like,” the scene in the red-room where Mr. Reed died, the voice of Rochester that Jane hears on the wind during her marriage talk with St. John, and finally the allusions to Bertha being “devilishly similar to a vampire” all put the novel in the realm of the supernatural, as well as work to stay true to a Gothic heritage. I Walked with a Zombie showcases a religion left over from the days of the trans-Atlantic Slave trade. The film takes the mental illness of Jessica, supposedly left from a fever, and has Mrs. Rand confess she used Voodoo magic (only when possessed, mind you) to curse Jessica and punish her for shattering the matriarchal family’s peace. Although far fetched in the logical world, the film is believable in its treatment of Voodoo as a legitimate practice or belief system: the servants make a Voodoo Doll of Jessica that controls her movements and bring her to them. Ironically, the slave past of the servants and their unconventional beliefs intersect here with the Holland family that brought their African ancestors to St. Sebastian in the first place: Wesley takes an arrow out of the old slave ship figure-head which he uses to stab Jessica to death with; whether the Jessica Voodoo Doll which bears her likeness being simultaneously stabbed with a needle in the haomfort ceremony is related to Jessica’s actual death is open to interpretation.

Where Jane Eyre is an autobiographical novel that explores romance and the sacrifices women make to conform to the expectations of a patriarchal society, I Walked with a Zombie is a horror flick meant to thrill the viewer and expose he/she to an alternative culture filled with mysticism and magic. Perhaps for the sake of time, the film did not attempt to delve into the complicated themes of class and gender equality; when judged simply as a means of entertainment, rather than a work striving for literary merit, I Walked With a Zombie was thoroughly enjoyable.

Stop Teaching Us "Happily Ever After"

This is my scholarly paper for a young adult literature class that required an essay on fairy tales. Pretty long, but pretty interesting if you care to read it. (I made a 95 on it if you happen to doubt my intelligence on the subject)

Crying Wolf:

Fairy Tale’s Promotion of Rape Culture

           

If a two year old were asked what she wants to be when she grows up, the answer would likely be a shrieked, “ prin-thess!” Toddler’s rudimentary grasp on the English language does not deter parents from teaching their little darlings about gendered behavior, even using enforcers such as cartoons, clothing, and popular media. The “happily ever after’s” of fairy tales, however, are the sugar coated ideas that dictate societal expectations of the alpha males and submissive females. Francesca Lia Block’s short story, Wolf, is a feminist-inspired reworking of the traditionally geared, androgynous fairy tale, “Little Red Riding Hood.“ Wolf is meant to celebrate women, their strengths, and the love of community that defines them. Although girls are taught by The Grimm Brother’s “Little Red Cap” that safety is gained through male protection, Block’s first person narrative Wolf’s portrayal of a teenage rape survivor’s story rejects female trivialization as portrayed in fairy talks, and by putting the reader into the victim’s shoes, Block argues thematically against victim blaming and other myths surrounding American Rape Culture’s ideology.

The Grimm’s story, “Little Red Cap” features a hunter that saves the lives of Red and Grandmother from being lost in the wolf’s belly. (Grimm, 30). Folk and Fairy Tale’s Little Red section claims that the Grimm’s version to be the “ most balanced” to contemporary audiences because of the parallel structuring of good men versus bad men (Hallett & Karasek, 23). The lesson being taught of man-as-protector is dangerous. Father-like figures are absent from most fairy tales, and when present, fathers are linked to daughter-directed incest more frequently than not. Block’s writing rejects the idea of the paternalistic good guy by placing her Wolf in the domestic realm: the protagonist’s emotionally and physically abusive step-father whom she cannot escape.

The story’s title, Wolf, carries a clever double meaning that established Block’s tone from the first word. Firstly, the title refers to the story’s heritage stemming from traditional Red Riding Hood and the Wolf stories. The more sinister, secondary usage is in reference to the disturbing trend of sexual assault victims being accused of faking an attack, or “crying wolf.” The title is an allusion to Aesop’s Fable, “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” The first words in the story are two sentences from Red saying, “They don’t believe me. They think I’m crazy,” confirming the intended double meaning (Block, 40).

Even more troubling, friends of attackers frequently harass victims of rape and assault, both verbally and away through social media or text messaging. The victim is pressured to admit that the act was consensual, and she originally was just upset. Women particularly find it easier to assume the victim is making up the incident than to admit that such a heinous attack could happen to a woman they are acquainted with. Daily Mail’s article about victim blaming reports that “of 1000 adults surveyed, fifty four percent agree with the statement ‘rape victims should be held accountable for their attacks”’ (Camber, Web).

Researchers and psychologists agree that rape is about power, rather than about sex. Before the physical violence of an attack can occur between two groups of people that are separated by race, sex, religion or other area’s of exclusive group membership, there has to be a complete separation in the perception of the aggressor that ranks his or her group’s worth much higher than the value of the secondary group’s worth. To illustrate, consider the kidnapping and enslavement of African tribesmen that resulted in later slave trading on plantations around the world; slavery could not morally have been as widespread if the tribal Africans were seen as equals to people of European decent. By viewing a specific human characteristic that varies between the two groups, here the skin tones and cultural differences between white people and black people, the group that feels they are worth more on the scale of human value feels justified in any persecution or violence that occurs between them, especially acts which benefit the dominant group. Southern plantation owner’s excuse for owning slaves used to be “because people from Africa are not as fully human as white Americans,” so using slaves like you would use a cow or oxen for labor purposes was “justified” in their own minds.

Similarly, Westernized countries value aggression and passion in men, and demand passivity and obedience in women. Popular culture components including fashion trends, media, and advertisements- among others- all serve to systematically dehumanize women by reducing the value of a woman to a purely sexual existence. Because a woman is now less than human, merely an object to be used for sexual exploitation, harassment in the form of sexual violence is “justified” to certain types of men. Traditional fairy tales that depict women as hopelessly incapable or passively wasting time until the arrival of the prince characterize women as less valuable than men, yet again. The message that women “need” men is internalized by both boys and girls, beginning on the laps of their parents during story-time: little girls hear stories of beautiful princesses waiting for rescue, and little boys hear stories of the beautiful princess he earns by scaling the tower or slaying the dragon.

 The only types of women present in fairy tale literature are the very good or the very bad, and either category’s mother. There is, of course, the beautiful young girl that embodies all male expectations of feminine virtue and who will be rewarded for playing the game, as she was expected, with a handsome prince. The undesirable women are banished to the realms of the ugly step-sisters, the jealous step-mothers, and the evil old witches. The fairy tale characters serve as warnings to girls, with their ugly names and the missing happily ever after’s, to either play the game or suffer the consequences.

Block challenges the female-as-villain casting that is so prevalent in children’s stories, including in young adult literature. The male characters of fairy tales assume the role of the hero: the Grimm Brother’s hunter that saves Little Red from the wolf’s belly, the stereotypical Prince Charming character, and the father who is absent for unknown reasons, but sometimes portrayed as away on business providing for his family. Block challenges the convention of men as female protectors by making the villain of Wolf into Red’s step-father, a rapist turned murderer.

Instead of the backstabbing and plotting that are trademarks in most fairy tale stories, Block chooses to show love instead of the usual hatred aimed toward women, by women. Traditional Little Red Riding Hood stories are missing the attention, either overly positive or overly negative, between the family members. In Wolf, Block’s addition of loving, intergenerational relationships adds texture to the characters and believability to the story. Red loves her mother so much that she claims her mother is her best friend, one so great that “I didn’t really even need any other friend” (Block, 40). Red also lets us know that the reason she cannot simply flee from her abusive situation is because she is scared to abandon her mother.

To conclude, kids are growing up being taught unattainable standards of perfection that will never be reached. A son that tap-dances and a daughter that welds both deserve the love of their family, the respect of their peers, and the right to feel safe in this world. By ending the brainwashing of whatever “normal” is, and teaching kids about respect and kindness, perhaps the days of victim blaming will end; its hard to have a victim with out any perpetrators.

Works Cited:

1.     Block, Francesca Lia. “Wolf.” The Rose and the Beast. New York: Harper Collins, 2000.

2.     Camber, Rebecca. “Rape? It’s the fault of the victims, say 50 % of women.” Daily Mail Online.  Associated Newspapers, LTD. 15 Feb 2010. Web. 16 Feb 2014.

3.     Marshall, Elizabeth. “Girlhood, Sexual Violence, and Agency in Francesca Lia Block’s ‘Wolf.’” Children’s Literature in Education. Springer Science+Business Media, LLC. 18 Feb 2009. Web. 18 Feb 2014.

Sounding StOOpiD: A Rant.

I grew up in an east Texas town of around 1800 people. I knew everyone, and they knew me. Besides walking away with a certain innocence to any ideas or perspectives that fell outside of the accepted Bible Belt dogma, I also left that town with a considerably heavy accent. 

Dodged this bullet....

Although College Station isn't known as the center of worldly knowledge or being high society, my freshman year at A&M made me aware that I wasn't like the kids from Dallas or Houston or even Austin. To my own ear, I sounded entirely more sophisticated than the "ain'tcha gonna" or the "fixin' to" of my hometown.  But I still got both envied by my girl friends

 "Awe, your accent is soooo adorable"

 and teased by my guy friends

"Wow do they also teach you how to read in Buffalo?"

for my southern "charm."  I hated it. Most people didn't even notice how impolite their uncalled for critique was. Positive or negative shading aside, these people made me feel like a country bumpkin, and I would not let my past define my future.

So I worked really hard and trained myself to sound at least Urban Texan, and now my accent only makes an appearance when I'm really tired or talking with my parents, as my boyfriend likes to point out. The point is, there is a certain connotation that is attached to both southernisms and slang and ebonics: being less intelligent than everyone else around you.

Now, there is a definite difference between how someone speaks and their accent (whether it be Southern, Indian, Latino, ect.),  the words that someone speaks out loud, and the style of writing someone uses. When I communicate with others, I would rather them think me pretentious or whatever else from being too formal, than willfully stupid. Apparently.... not everyone shares this view.

Why would you want to portray yourself as someone less intelligent than you are? From my first blog, I got a comment asking my views on women in the Catholic Church and whether or not reforming to be more modern is necessary or reasonable in today's world. Perhaps it would be a valid point to say:

"Women should not be allowed to serve as priests because the Bible says that men are the spiritual leaders, and tradition should stay tradition." 

I would agree to disagree, but it would be a legitimate idea. Instead, Rednek2188 leaves this gem of wisdom:

"Thats dumb. Women should nver b priests.they r made 2 serve men n b there subordnates. Read the bible it says it"

..............................

Is this for real?

"Cauze we dont need no edjumacation newayz, Bubba!"

Not only is the spelling/grammar/everything about this comment absolutely ridiculous, but coming from someone using the name "rednek," I'm not even surprised. Granted it is a silly blog by someone unknown on the internet (aka me), but it just reinforces the pretty common idea that everyone in the south IS a "redneck" and IS backassward in both progressive ideas and simple education. It also makes me, the reader, completely discount anything that may have been a good point because no WAY an educated person would ever use that kind of language.

Oh, high school. The days of football games and study hall... From my experience in that joke of a town, its also where people do their darndest to be perceived as dumb as humanly possible, without also being classified as mentally handicapped. To this day, just judging from my Facebook feed and the posts from people that I've known forever, its just not cool to be smart. I am legitimately embarrassed for some of you. I'm so happy that you are

"Makin dat oil feild cash! Caint weight 2c my bby!!!!!!"

but please, could you at least try not to rub your stupidity all over the rest of us?

Is having a dead-end job that you hate also cool? What about not being able to buy your kids new shoes when its time to go school clothes shopping? Everything from getting that awesome job in your chosen career field to dating to making friends stems from how people perceive you. It may not be right, but how you speak and how you write matters. What impression will you make?

Have a beautiful Tuesday,
Brooke