Whatever you are, be a good one.

In the beginning of Sophocles’ play, Oedipus is portrayed as the ideal leader. He is exceptionally understanding and compassionate, telling the priest “my spirit groans for the city, for myself, for you” (66). While he deeply cares about the citizens’ well-beings, he remains a down-to-earth king, making sure that he himself—not a messenger—talks to the people about any concerns they have. Oedipus not only directly addresses the problem of the plague but also already has anticipated this issue. His impeccable foresight (possibly not in his own life, but in city affairs) ensured his speedy thinking: he has already sent Creon to bring the oracle back, in the hopes that the message will offer advice to stop the plague. Finally, Oedipus is courageous, committed, and possesses a strong sense of conviction. He adamantly promises the city a horrible punishment for the perpetrator and reaffirms his dedication to his people, pledging “I will do all that I can” (147). He will catch the murdered even if the killer is someone close to him. Initially, his positive qualities are repeatedly highlighted. Yet, as readers continue the play, they realize “Oedipus the King” is very much like many other Greek plays. Oedipus’s premature greatness is an indication of his imminent downfall.

Oedipus’s speedy thinking turns out to be his best quality and his worst quality. The King is quick to evaluate a situation, judge the conflict, and pollute the interaction with his demanding demeanor. Oedipus swiftly praises Teiresias as the only one who can guard or save the city from destruction. But a matter of fifty lines later, as soon as Tieresias cooperates less than liked, Oedipus accuses him of murdering Laios, calls him “pollution of this country,” and then vehemently brands Tieresias a traitor. His hot temper is evident when he charges his uncle/brother-in-law, Creon, with plotting to kill him and take over the throne. While Creon is calm, well-spoken, and composed, Oedipus continues to ask rhetorical questions as a way to “corner his victim.” At times, Oedipus is clearly delusional. When he feels attacked, he lashes back with haughty comments even when no threat is imminent. He automatically assumes any change in status-quo is a threat. As a great leader, Oedipus should be extremely comfortable adapting to any changes because being comfortable with change is having faith in himself that the citizens (and audience) will believe in their King no matter what. Moreover, Oedipus relies heavily on his temporary “highs,” his recurring belief that he is invincible and untouchable. Yet these highs are false; they are merely created when Oedipus “elevates” himself above other people, by jabbing them with cheap attempts at wit and inciting fear.

While most readers have lost faith in Oedipus by now, we pity him when we realize he only knows half the truth: he murdered Laios. He still has not discovered that his prophecy is yet to come true. Oedipus’s final realization of the truth, his affirmation of reality, his comeback, is why readers enjoy his character. While Oedipus comes full circle, readers also feel emotionally satisfied: although blind, Oedipus has seen the light. (517)

Music: Regina Spektor, “Oedipus”

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In a battle between elephants, the ants get squashed.

Indeed, the Metamorphosis warrants endless interpretations of Gregor’s bizarre transformation. Gregor has been an insect in human form for years, and finally, his body has caught up to the “true state of his identity.” Gregor believes himself to be disposable, loathed, and worthless. He has subjected himself to authority figures that ultimately intensify his selfless attitude and downtrodden outlook.

When Gregor awakens to find that he has been transformed into an insect, he does not think about why or how he became a bug, the logical train of thought. Oddly, he is more determined to get out of the bed and catch the next train than concerned about his current condition. The fact that he has never missed a single day of work in the past five years shows Gregor’s desperate desire to please others, no matter what the cost, and solicit gratitude, even in a hopeless and thankless job. He continues to work tirelessly and subject himself to the toxic environment of dishonesty and suspicion. Gregor probably felt much pressure to be the breadwinner for the family. In addition to this financial burden, Gregor most likely was never a confident and headstrong person. In taking this job, Gregor feels he must prove himself to his family and co-workers and is so driven to achieve acceptance and praise that he refuses to leave a job, which so dreadfully demeans him in every way. It is as if Gregor has been blinded by his ambitions and cannot see the real truth. He is completely convinced that he is perfectly capable to work, despite his unseemly appearance.

What makes Gregor most insect-like is his inability to accurately evaluate a situation and apply it to himself. We often look at insects as incompetent, primitive, and idiotic pests, keen on following the insect in front of them. It is obvious his job is ridiculously strenuous and pointless yet Gregor still chooses to put himself in a vulnerable and degrading position. Yes, it is honorable, courageous, and selfless that he puts his family before himself, but in the end his family forgets about him and all he has contributed to the family. The horrible feelings of abject worthlessness fueled by his job were not worth it all. I wonder at times whether Gregor’s service and compassion to his family only crippled his family, allowing them to slack off and rely on him. However, after Gregor’s transformation, his family is quick to take charge of their lives. What Gregor lacks is the killer survival instincts the other family members have, that ultimately, he must think about himself because his family is not in it together.
Although Gregor was insect-like even before his transformation, his physical change rapidly expedited the completion of his internal metamorphosis. While he is losing his sight, hearing, and ability to verbally communicate, he is also becoming more parasitic and treated as an insignificant creature. He spends his days pathetically hiding under the bed, fearful of scaring his family and heavily reliant on his family. Unfortunately, Gregor cannot take his family’s disgusted attitude and use it as motivation to change. He was either trapped by his own servile-like personality or his family’s stifling tendencies. Maybe, both led to his demise. (538)

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.

Ivan Illych’s life is an illusion created by naively following high society principles. He believes that this type of lifestyle, void of rationality and good moral code, will ultimately lead him to happiness and fulfillment. His refusal to do anything but those activities deemed “proper” by the aristocrats is reflective of his obsession with upper class standing. Ivan does not enjoy Praskovya’s companionship or her selfish personality, yet he marries her because every financially secure man weds. He refuses to take any job with a salary less than five thousand rubles and even then, the money is never enough for his wife and children; furthermore, he himself demands more money. With a well-paying job, he devotes his leisure time to decorating a new house with gaudy draperies, accessories, and furniture, all middle-class items feigning as high society necessities.

In Ivan’s perspective, becoming a member of the upper class goes hand in hand with finding meaning in life. His obsession with his plan fuels Ivan to distance himself from anything that threatens to ruin his comfortable lifestyle and his road to material success and societal elevation. He pushes away any conflicts at home, choosing to concentrate on his career. Instead of treating his family with compassion and love, he behaves as if his family is another official case, simplifying complicated relationships to shallow, unsatisfying friendships. Ivan may believe that he has “made it” since he now plays bridge with other aristocratic wannabes, but his world is filled with facades, deception, and dishonesty. In reality, in order to protect himself, he can relate to no one else because everyone else is thinking exactly what he is: how can I use my strategically advantageous relationships to further my social esteem.

Ivan is a unique character, in the sense that he is struck by a mysterious un-curable disease, but he is more a representative figure; he is just one case of all the selfish characters infatuated with the aristocratic lifestyle. Unfortunately, Ivan’s demise is the first and he never had the chance to reverse his condition and start a new life (strictly physical because Ivan does experience some type of spiritual rebirth) after seeing another fall to the same fate. The role of Peter Ivanovich shows not only what kind of person Ivan really was but also how these aristocratic wannabes are all magnetized to each other. Really, Ivan can only befriend people similar to him because those people are the only ones who can deal with his “bourgeois sensibility.” They are all chasing happiness by following beliefs supposedly set forth by the upper class. However, at this point, the empathy stops. Ivan shows that a life isolated from compassion and love can only end in an inner conflict. As he battles his strange illness, he learns that while he thought his life was all that he expected, he was actually living a lie. He imagined he was going uphill when he was going downhill. Finally, Ivan experiences pure joy when he makes an empathetic connection: he feels sorry for his son and wife and asks for forgiveness. He realizes that the formal barriers keeping out the true meaning of life were built by no one else but himself. And when the “walls fall away,” he truly finds fulfillment in life. (547)

You said I must eat so many lemons 'cause I am so bitter...

...I said I'd rather be with your friends mate 'cause they are much fitter.

Fair Iris I Love and Hourly I Die

Fair Iris I love and hourly I die
But not for a lip nor a languishing eye:
She's fickle and false, and there I agree;
For I am as false and as fickle as she:
We neither believe what either can say;
And, neither believing, we neither betray.

'Tis civil to swear and say things, of course;
We mean not the taking for better or worse.
When present we love, when absent agree;
I think not of Iris, nor Iris of me:
The legend of love no couple can find
So easy to part, or so equally join'd.

-- John Henry Dryden