Friday, June 27, 2014

So, it was in the stars today

....that I go see the movie adaptation of the John Green novel that is relevant to our summer reading. "Why," you might be asking, "is this relevant to the first seven or so pages of our book?"  Well, you see, it's just this: within those first few pages and throughout the entire work, Mukerjee refers to Susan Sontag's work, Illness as Metaphor. And if you've seen the film, The Fault in our Stars, you know that one of the characters carries a cigarette around as a metaphor.  You also know that the main character, Hazel Lancaster, goes to visit her favorite author wearing a t-shirt that illustrates the philosophy of Magritte (Google him. He died of pancreatic cancer) because, as she says, the author "referred to him at least fifty times in the book."  It reminded me of Mukherjee's repeated incorporation of Sontag's work into his book.  We get the first dose of Sontag immediately after the dedication page.  The content is appropriate as he will open the "biography" with the story of Carla Reed, who must "identify herself as" a citizen "of that other place".  That place being the "kingdom of the sick."

Did you see how I just blended that quotation in up there?  A lot of our work together will involve making you all masters at blending quoted material into your ideas. Maybe you've mastered that already.  If so, great.....we can spend our time somewhere else.

Next, Mukherjee presents some statistics to give his readers perspective about the magnitude of the disease and then, it is Mukherjee's turn to share with us, in the Author's Note, the story of his creation.  His purpose, his motivation.  He establishes the personification of cancer and identifies two central characters: Sidney Farber and Mary Lasker. Mukherjee establishes his credibility as an author, his ethos, by acknowledging that his work is the result of everything that came before it and him.  And he discusses his personal investment.  An author needs his readers to-most desirably-like him, or- at the least- respect him long enough to listen to his argument.  And that is what we get in Mukherjee's author's note.  He makes the reader privy to his thinking, his intentions and humbles himself by giving credit where credit is due.

So, now, The Prologue.  Students who read this last summer reported that their favorite parts of this book, which by the way looks to be the same size and even color as Hazel's favorite book in the film; my copy of Emperor looks just like her copy of The Imperial Affliction, are the narratives.

To tell you about all of the things I love in this section, I need to make a list.  They are as follows:

1.  The structure of this sentence:  "Its pace, its acuity, its breathtaking, inexorable arc of growth forces rapid, often drastic decisions; it is terrifying to experience, terrifying to observe, and terrifying to treat"(3).  Will you just look at that craftsmanship?

2.  The personification of the hospital: "a patient with acute leukemia still sends a shiver down the hospital's spine" (3)

3.  How about Mukherjee's use of questions to present his material? They start on page 5.  He is a scientist after all.  And science begins with questions.  The search for answers follows and then there are more questions.  Mukherjee will continue this throughout the entire book to give us insight into the minds of scientists and doctors.  He uses their questions to lay out the narrative of their successes and failures thereby illustrating in his narrative the process of scientific inquiry.

4.  This book is full of literary allusions and examples and Mukherjee's reference to the work of Solzhenitsyn is the first of many.  In this case, Mukherjee uses it to personify cancer: "The illness strips him of his identity.  It dresses him in a patient's smock (a tragicomically cruel costume, no less blighting that a prisoner's jumpsuit) and assumes absolute control of his actions" (4) 

5.  In the beginning of the book, he makes all these casual references to people who will appear prominently later in the book:  Atossa, Halstedt....

6.  And then he returns to Carla, and having set cancer up as a prison with the Solzhenitsyn bit, he-a citizen of the kingdom of the well- leaves her, "sealed" in her new prison with the "whoosh" of the door.

Beautiful, man.
And so was the film, The Fault in our Stars.  There are so many subtle references to ideas from Emperor that I have to believe (and, okay I want to believe) that John Green put them there on purpose.  As we read together it would be cool if you would let me know if you notice anything linking the two.

Please post your comments and questions.  We will all understand this book much better if we engage in some discussion.  Don't be one of those poor students on test day who wishes they would have engaged in some discussion.

I know this was long.  Not all my entries will be that way.

Tomorrow: "A Suppuration of Blood"

4 comments:

  1. On page 5 of the prologue it says, "'Don't let it work it's way into everything you do. Have a life outside the hospital.'" I thought it was interesting how in The Fault In Our Stars they (Hazel and Gus) have two stories, a cancer one (how they got sick) and a "life" story (their dreams, likes and dislikes, etc.). Doctors have to have this type of separation as well, in order to not be "swallowed" by the stressful hospital environment. -Mia V.

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  2. Mia!!!! I am so grateful for your comment. When I saw it in my inbox, I wanted to shout, "I am NOT Alone!" Your comment makes me think about the way that cancer patients will talk about not letting the disease "define" them. "I am not my cancer" kind of thing and I think that your observation taps into that. Maybe that was one argument that John Green was trying to make with the story of Hazel and Gus. I think further evidence for this argument exists in that for most of the book/movie, the reader doesn't think Gus is sick at all. And so, we just get to know him as a person. And I think you are right. The same goes for the oncologists. At the end of the day, they have to put it all aside and go home to families who, hopefully, are not dealing with cancer. I wonder if they have trouble taking other kinds of problems seriously. I mean, I imagine not as they are smart enough to know about perspective. And how unfair would it be to the oncologist's teenage daughter to hear something like the following, "I'm sorry, Honey. I just can't get all riled up about your lack of a prom date. At least you don't have cancer." Pretty unfair. Duality. It's an interesting concept. Batman. Catwoman. Oncologists. Cancer patients.

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  3. Yes, exactly! My Dad is a radiologist, which probably isn't as depressing of a job as an oncologist's, but it still amazes me how he can go a day's worth of surgeries on some pretty sick people and still be able to do normal Dad things too. It's pretty cool. :)

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  4. "Malady" Nice word choice, Owen :)

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