Friday, August 22, 2014

Henrik Ibsen: A Doll House

Henrik Ibsen & “A Doll House:” A Revolution in Evolution


     “Using the new style of realism, Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906) slowly and painfully became the most influential modern dramatist (Jacobus, 416).” As a young boy growing up in Norway during the 19th century, Henrik Ibsen was forced to deal with life at the bottom of the social hierarchy. His family was extremely poor and the immense financial and social pressure of living on the fringes of Norwegian society must have deeply impacted the young Ibsen. “[Some of Ibsen’s most famous characters] mirror his parents, and his themes often deal with issues of financial difficulty as well as moral conflicts stemming from dark private secrets hidden from society (Wiki).” As a child, living day to day just trying to make ends meet impressed upon Ibsen the true challenge of surviving in a complicated world. The complex internal struggle of the individual is not something that can be transmitted through aggrandized storytelling it must be harnessed through intricate plot development and complex circumstantial evidence. Growing up poor in Norway Ibsen understood the subtle intricacies of circumstance that made the apparently simple actions of a character much more complex than they appeared on the surface. This understanding of reality and its foundation in circumstantial subtlety is echoed in some of Ibsen’s most famous characters like Nora Helmer, the protagonist of “A Doll House.” Due to the circumstances of Nora’s actions what seems like a simple, heartfelt, and reasonable decision to save her husbands life concludes with the drastic realization that since childhood her life had been an illusion fabricated by the men in her life to protect her from the harsh realities of human existence. The complex circumstances of her actions and there resulting consequences allow Nora to see the world for what it is rather than what others would have it be. Ibsen’s ability to comprehend how circumstance largely affects the outcome of an action showcases his mastery of realist theatre, which is the genius behind many of his most celebrated works. There is no doubt that Henrik Ibsen fully grasped the concept of realism when he wrote “A Doll House” in 1879.
     Playwrights during the late 19th and early 20th centuries (and some even earlier) attempted to harness mankind’s struggle for self actualization in an unforgiving world by writing in a new style, “which avoided mechanical ‘clockwork’ plots with their artificially contrived conclusions (Jacobus, 410).” In what is referred to today as realist drama details of a play’s setting, costuming, and individual circumstance are so fully realized the audience becomes convinced that they are listening in on life itself (Jacobus). Unlike the ancient Greeks who were very formulaic in their plot and character structures, realists broke away from the so-called “mechanical” structure of the early playwrights and focused more on the intricate complexities of circumstance that influenced a character’s actions. Sets were carefully arranged to reflect the everyday lives of the audience and the actions of realist characters were not single layered; actions were often thoroughly entwined with a degree of circumstantial subtlety that had never been seen before on stage. Ibsen and other realists recognized that the human struggle for survival did not always have a happy or succinct ending. More often than not reality finds a way to chew people up only to spit them back out again despite their sincere efforts at peaceful coexistence. This harsh reality is reflected one way or another in many of Ibsen’s greatest works but for the purpose of this essay we will focus primarily on Ibsen’s “A Doll House.”
     In 1879 Henrik Ibsen truly defined realist drama by seamlessly integrating the complex nature of human circumstance with the repression of women in late 19th century society. Ibsen’s “A Doll House” challenged many of the societal conventions of the time by serving not as an aggrandized polemic for sexual equality or individualism, but by showcasing the very subtle yet extremely significant inner struggle of the individual searching for meaning in a world that provides little answers. “A Doll House” was a revolution in the evolution of modern theatre because it signified a theatrical shift from the “clockwork” like plots of the ancient Greeks into the subtle yet equally significant struggle of the individual against the unrelenting demands of society. The following essay examines the main character Nora’s transformation from “empty-headed ornament” in act I to a self realized individualist in act III and showcases the subtle complexities of realism that made this play a revolution in the evolution of modern dramatic theatre.


     Act I of Ibsen’s “A Dolls House” opens in a “comfortable room, tastefully decorated but not expensively furnished.” Immediately the audience is immersed into very “real” world where there is no grand palace in the background or war raging outside just off stage. The setting of realist theatre more resembles everyday life than anything else. This is a purposely-designed characteristic of realist works intended to engross the audience in a world not all that different from their own. Audiences were supposed to feel like they were “listening in on life itself,” which was a far cry from the dramatic works of the ancient theatre.
     From the opening action it becomes clear that Nora is a spendthrift immersed in an illusory doll-like existence propagated by her husband Torvald Helmer. He calls her pet names like “my little lark” and “my squirrel” but it is clear that Torvald babies his wife and treats her like a child. “Now, now, the little lark’s wings mustn’t droop. Com on, don’t be a sulky squirrel. (Taking out his wallet) Nora, guess what I have here. [Nora responds in jubilation turning quickly] Money!” Apposed to what you and I might be thinking this treatment was not at all considered unusual for the time period of the late 19th century. Women were supposed to play subservient roles to their husbands and much of the action that takes place during the first act would be considered quite normal to early audiences. Yet despite the doll-like façade, there are a few key things to interpret from the opening scenes that will help us better understand Nora’s transformation from “empty-headed ornament” in act I to a self realized individualist in act III.
     In a conversation with Mrs. Linde, an old friend of Nora’s, we find out that below Nora’s doll-like veneer there is a deeper sense of character that penetrates her apparent superficialities. In response to her friend who is proud to have lived a long and tumultuous life Nora states:

“Nora: …I’ve also got something to be proud and happy for.
Mrs. Linde: I don’t doubt it. But whatever do you mean?
Nora: Not so loud. What if Torvald heard! He mustn’t know, not for anything in the world, Kristine. No one but you.
Mrs. Linde: But what is it, then?
Nora: Come here. It’s true—I’ve also got something to be proud and happy for. I’m the one who saved Torvald’s life.
Nora: Papa didn’t give us a pin. I was the one who raised the money.
Mrs. Linde: You? That whole amount?
Nora: Four thousand eight hundred crowns. What do you say to that?

                                                                                                                                     (Act I)
Apparently a few years prior to this conversation Nora’s husband Torvald became deathly ill from the ravages tuberculosis. If he was to survive the ordeal he had to be moved to an area with a dryer climate (Italy). After realizing her husbands impending doom, Nora took it upon herself to fund her and her husband’s journey by acquiring a loan from a bank clerk. Everyone around her thinks that she received the money from her father but in reality she had secured a loan from Nils Krogstad, an employee at the town bank. She is proud of what she has done because she successfully saved her beloved husbands life but as the story continues we find out that the circumstances of her actions might not be so cut and dry.
     Unbeknownst to anyone surrounding her Nora confines in Mrs. Linde that she had fraudulently secured the loan from Mr. Krogstad by forging her father’s signature shortly before he past away. In 19th century society, it was not at all uncommon for women to be denied loans due to the simple and unavoidable fact that they were not men. Often women had to obtain permission from their husband or father in order to receive a loan much like students who have their parents co-sign their college loan. The co-signature legally authorizes that if the primary recipient of the loan defaults on making payments the cosigner will be held equally responsible for paying back the loan (as well as any accrued interest). Well aware of her husband’s imminent death, Nora fraudulently secures the loan from Mr. Krogstad despite the legal ramifications because she believes that her unconditional love transcends any laws put forth by social or legal mandate. “A daughter hasn’t a right to protect her dying father from anxiety and care? A wife hasn’t a right to save her husband’s life? I don’t know much about laws, but I’m sure that somewhere in the books these things are allowed.” But Krogstad is a spiteful, evil man filled with scorn after a social blunder that had ruined his reputation several years ago. He blackmails Nora and forces her to convince Torvald to keep him employed at the bank by threatening to unveil her long kept secret. The shame of having a husband find out that he was in debt to his wife was near unbearable in late 19th century society despite the circumstances of her actions. Nora would rather kill herself than have her husband find out that she has been lying to him for several years because she knows what would happen to her marriage.
     Nora and Torvald’s entire existence is based upon the doll-like reality that has kept them safe from dealing with any of their internal problems (like the majority of marriages). Nora knows that any disruption to this carefully manufactured artificial reality would ruin her and her husband’s relationship because as we all know even the slightest injection of truth into a fantasy world can cause the entire illusion to fail.* This heartfelt concern for maintaining a pleasant and happy household truly showcases Nora’s fragility as a character. As a child Nora was sheltered from the world by her father and as she grew into adulthood Torvald took over as her protector and kept her sealed in a doll’s house so she would never have to deal with the harsh realities of life. Nora is completely unaware of who she is as a person or what the world is truly like outside her doll-like existence. But that is all about to change as we skip through to the final act, act III, where Nora finally becomes aware that she has been cosseted her entire life and decides that she must set off on her own to develop into moral and spiritual adulthood.

   
     And so we come to the final act of Henrik Ibsen’s “A Doll House.” Tensions have been building since the opening and Krogstad has avowed to tell Torvald and the world everything if Nora does not help him gain a promotion at the bank. It becomes clear that Nora’s little secret has far greater social implications than we might have originally thought. In the preceding acts Nora had been contemplating suicide as a welcome alternative to Torvald’s acknowledgement that she had forged her father’s signature. Shame, it appears, was a far more ubiquitous and disgraceful thing during the 19th century than I think it is in modern society. In response to Krogstad’s threats Nora becomes convinced that by killing herself she will be absolved of all wrongdoing but Krogstad reminds her that he will still have “control” over her “final reputation.” Even in death the shame of having society know that a member of your family has committed a forgery would have significant postmortem consequences on the surviving family members. Torvald would likely have been blamed for instigating Nora’s actions, which would have gotten him fired from his position at the bank. The Helmer children would be considered to have “bad blood” because society in those days believed strongly in the power of heredity. The shame that would have been imbued upon the Helmer family after having society become aware that she had committed a forgery was enough to convince Nora to postpone her suicide for at least the time being.
     After relentlessly pressuring Nora to aid him in his devious plot to regain his social standing, Krogstad has grown sick of waiting. He places a tell all letter in Torvald’s mailbox setting in motion a chain of events that will lead to the climax of the play. His plan is to bypass Nora and blackmail Torvald into submission with the threat of telling the world that his wife is a criminal. After a wonderful evening of dinner and dancing with the neighbors upstairs Torvald reads the letter and finally realizes what his wife has done.
     After Torvald learns of Nora’s crimes he pitches a fit, denouncing his wife as a “hypocrite, a liar—worse, worse—a criminal!” He reveals long concealed notions about

* After having witnessed an actor dressed up as a cowboy walk across the Tomorrowland set Walt Disney devised the intricate tunnel system that laces his Florida theme park with the intent never to break the illusion of his theme based attractions.


his beloved wife that have never come to the surface before because of the carefully crafted reality he had fought so hard to maintain. He states that he should have “suspected [she’d be a criminal]” and that “[he] should have known… [that all her] fathers flimsy values [would have] come out in [her].” He barraters his wife as if she never meant anything to him and focuses solely on the implications of her actions and how they will effect himself rather than his beloved wife and children. Even though Nora took the loan out to save her husband’s life Torvald reveals that he is truly a selfish man who “lacks any awareness that other people might be his equal” and this is what pushes Nora over the edge.

     
     Nora had always considered Torvald (and her father) as protectors. They were the shields that kept her isolated from dealing with the harsh realities of life. But in doing so they created a soulless manikin that lacked any knowledge of the real world and how to get along in it. Throughout the play Torvald and Nora’s relationship has been one of surface superficialities. They call each other pet names and act as though they’ve not a care in the world yet beneath this pleasant exterior there is a deep-rooted division between these two characters which likely echoes Ibsen’s own family experience growing up at the bottom of the Norwegian social hierarchy.

     The fronts people put on in order to maintain sociocultural homeostasis both at home and in the outside world can often lead to festering sores that accumulate if they are not properly dealt with. Ibsen believed that it was “the primary duty of [anyone is] to find out who he or she is and become that person” even if that duty took a lifetime. Since childhood Nora had been sheltered from the harsh realities of life by her husband and father, which made her ultimate realization that she had been living in a doll’s reality all the more difficult. Like a house of cards the removal of Nora’s false perceptions caused a chain reaction that lead to an entire restructuring of her persona yet as she evolves the audience feels as though she is a stronger character for having done so. After her husband’s true self had been revealed Nora finally becomes self aware of her own existence and realizes that she has to find out who she is before she can survive and raise a family. Having realized her lack of understanding about the world she desperately desires to set of on her own and learn for herself what it is to be a woman in society. After a serious conversation with Torvald she breaks free from the doll reality her father and Torvald had created for her and escapes to live life on her own so she can learn to be responsible for herself. The front door of the house slams as she exits the Helmer household on a quest to evolve into moral and spiritual adulthood in an exit that reverberated deeply in the minds of Ibsen’s 19th century audience. Nora’s evolution as a character and the realist revolution that came with her helped create a sense of depth and sincerity in modern dramatic theatre that had scarcely been achieved prior to the realist movement. After “A Doll House” Henrik Ibsen would go one to write more fantastic works of realist theatre such as “The Pretenders,” “Brand,” “An Enemy of the People,” and “The Wild Duck.” All of which truly solidify his position as “the most influential modern dramatist.”   

John Steinbeck Bio

John Steinbeck: Champion of the Common Man


     Perhaps one of the most important authors of the twentieth century, John Steinbeck will forever be remembered as the champion of the common man. His corpus of unforgettable literary works includes American classics such as East of Eden, Of Mice and Men, and the historic Grapes of Wrath but his talent also broaches the realms of theatre and poetry. Steinbeck’s remarkable ability to capture the raw and heartbreaking tales of disenfranchised labor class citizens allowed his work to resonate deeply with his audience regardless of their economic status or ideological background. His fictional characters and their families had an uncanny sense of humanity that made them more than just illusory individuals; they were your friends, your family, and most importantly your stories. They often symbolize microcosms for the macrocosm of American sociopolitical life. Their stories, while often dark and riddled with allegory, encapsulated the wide spectrum of human emotions associated with economic and social struggle so these individual characters were able to represent a whole class of people or epitomize a vast social movement. During times of socioeconomic uncertainty Steinbeck found ways to bring people together through the art of storytelling, which is probably his most outstanding talent as a great American author. Through his carefully constructed characters and their rich and detailed context he could manipulate the deepest of human emotions and reach people from all levels of society not just the underclass. But in the sea of information that envelops the work of John Steinbeck it is difficult to sift through the waters and establish an accurate vision of the man behind the pages. Therefore, in order to fully understand Steinbeck’s true genius as an American author we must read between the lines and focus on the characteristics of his personality that may have influenced his writing style. In my research I came across three important and reoccurring themes that largely influenced the writing style of John Steinbeck. They include his vision of the common man as the most righteous and honorable person in society, his naturalistic approach to observing human behavior with scientific objectivity, and his evolution as a writer largely shaped by the current events of his time. These pillars formed the foundation of Steinbeck’s writing style and by shedding light on them we as historians can more fully comprehend the reasons why John Steinbeck will forever be remembered as the champion of the common man. 
     Growing up in Salinas California during the early twentieth century, John Steinbeck was immediately cognoscente of the working class’s struggle. As teenager he would spend his summers working as a ranch hand for neighboring farms doing manual tasks and getting to know his colleagues. It was during this time that Steinbeck became intimate with the large Mexican immigrant population of Salinas and this is when Steinbeck first created his idea of the common man. To Steinbeck, common men were the backbone of American society. They were the people behind the slick façade of twentieth century America digging the ditches and providing the labor for an industrializing nation. Within these working class citizens John Steinbeck saw the manifestation of the proof of mankind’s success. These people worked for pennies on the hour and yet they found ways of working together to survive and be happy. He called it their “high survival quotient,” or the ability to reject the values of a commercial society that had abandoned them and instead rely on a set of social standards that they themselves had created in order to survive. “These were men whose courage he admired, whose rejection of cant and hypocrisy he applauded… In this way, the people at the bottom of society's ladder became Steinbeck's heroes, in his perspective and in his work (Price, Bloom 14).” His deep understanding and very personal relationship with the immigrant labor force that was forged during his childhood in Salinas allowed Steinbeck to appreciate people for who they were beyond cultural stereotypes and misconceptions. “He accepted and sympathized with [working class Mexican citizens]--as he often did with societal ‘underdogs’--and displayed none of the contempt for so-called ‘wetbacks’ that many Americans harbored (Moore, 78).” Steinbeck transcended cultural stereotypes with his writing and avoided any one sided opinions. He simply wrote what he saw but did it with a sense of depth and humanity for his characters that regardless of whether or not they were viewed unfavorably in popular American society they could be seen as just people trying to get by. In this way Steinbeck’s characters and stories brought people from all walks of life together in their understanding of working class struggle, which was probably his greatest achievements as an author.  
     Because he was able to cut through the red tape and bring people on the outskirts of society to the forefront, Steinbeck was considered the “literate spokesman” of the “hungry, disposed and wandering (Moore, 106).” He did not allow American culture to influence his perceptions; he instead used (often extensive) first hand accounts of actual experiences with these social underdogs in order to personally identify with their struggle. This is what I think differentiates Steinbeck from many other American authors. While other writers were simply reading about the working class’s struggle from a distance, Steinbeck took it upon himself to engage these people directly and absorb their plight by living it himself. “[In his research for The Grapes of Wrath] Steinbeck lived with ‘Oakies’ traveling from Okalahoma and endured all of the suffering that they had to endure in an attempt to personally interpret their lives… [Steinbeck] liked to work closely to the people he would later use as his character types (George, 36).” But Steinbeck’s affinity for the common man might not originate from his experience as a young ranch hand growing up in Salinas. As a boy Steinbeck cherished an admiration for “King Arthur” and the story of his “Knights of the Round Table.” He was enthralled by the idea of a young squire rising up from obscurity to the highest seat in the English monarchy. Perhaps this is where Steinbeck’s admiration for the common man begins.
     As historians looking back on the entire body of Steinbeck’s corpus it is important that we examine the underpinning moral framework from which he based his greatest works. Stories like the Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden are allegorical parables that represent Steinbeck’s strong moral basis and empathy for the common man. “Steinbeck seeks to invest in [common men] all the dignity of a medieval monarch and court…he sees the possibility that any person can be Arthur (Mathis, 33).” For Steinbeck, the common man personified moral virtue because he was able to rise above conventional society and find happiness in his own set of social standards. This respect and admiration for social underdogs most likely stems from Steinbeck’s deep-rooted fascination with the Arthurian legends. “In addition to consistently positive portrayals of Mexicans and Mexican-Americans, an Arthurian subtext undergirds and informs…works that span the beginning, middle, and end of Steinbeck's career (Price, Bloomer 12).” Steinbeck’s admiration for the Arthurian legends instilled within him the belief that anyone could rise from nothing and become something-- just as Arthur started out as a lowly page and then rose to become king of all England. But in America during the early twentieth century, the environment surrounding the common man was not very conducive for upward social mobility. In a time when fierce nationalists were ousting immigrant laborers for stealing jobs and making it difficult for them to find work, common men had to work together in order to survive. 
     Steinbeck described the common mans “high survival quotient” as his ability to reject the values of a commercial society and rely on himself to survive and be happy. But like fish in the ocean surrounded by predators, as their environment became more hostile common men had to work together in order to survive. Without the trappings of conventional society created by the relative affluence of the middle and upper class, common men were left only with satisfying the most basic of human needs. “One of the salutary feature of Steinbeck’s work… is his insistence on the animal basis of human life, as seen in our fundamental need for food, shelter, physical expression, and, above all, tenderness and companionship (Dickstein, 4).” In the “paisanos” of Tortilla Flat, and the “Oakies” of The Grapes of Wrath Steinbeck portrayed the most basic animal struggle of survival in a harsh and unforgiving environment. Yet these people, these common men, were able to satisfy their basic animal needs by working together much like fish in the ocean that school together in order to ward off predators. But Steinbeck was a learned naturalist. He deduced that like schools of fish who abandon their individuality for the sake of the group, men also abandoned some degree of individuality as they join a social group. Therefore, man’s personal mentality takes on two roles: as an individual and as part of a group. He formulated this theory of a group mentality whilst writing Sea of Cortez where himself and marine biologist Ed Ricketts sailed around the Gulf of California observing the aquatic environment.

          "The book took each day's observations of sea life as an occasion for the
            drawing of biological parallels with human society. The most striking
            parallel for Steinbeck was the seeming existence of a group instinct in
            man similar to that found in schools of fish and colonies of marine fauna.
            Man, Steinbeck suggested, ... could be regarded as a group phenomenon
            as well as an individual one (Gale, 6).”

     This biological vision of society as an organism consisting of other organisms had a profound influence on Steinbeck’s work. Many of his epic stories showcase how individuals work in symbiosis with the larger society in order to satisfy fundamental human needs like hunger, shelter, and compassion, while others use the group mentality to foster greed and malevolence.* It is as if Steinbeck was suggesting that because common men had to work together in order to survive each individual sacrificed a certain degree of their individuality and this makes their disposition more malleable. “When individuals form a group, to an extent, they lose their individuality and replace it with a group identity (Snell, 192).” Within working class society the person was no longer responsible for only himself and his family. To Steinbeck, common men and women represented only single cells in a multi-cellular organism and therefore group “leaders” could manipulate their opinions more easily as was the case in In dubious Battle. “When a single fish joins a school of fish, the school of fish acts as one, having a will and purpose of its own. The group thus becomes more than the sum of its parts, and the same observations apply to humans (Price, Bloom 37).”
     Steinbeck’s naturalistic approach to observing society with scientific objectivity helped him see social underdogs and common men from a completely different perspective than most other realist writers of the era. In a time of economic depression, fierce nationalism, and civil unrest Steinbeck was able to observe the underclass’s struggle from the perspective of those who lived it. He would often stay with these people for moths at a time just to better understand their day-to-day lives. This helped him take mundane everyday activities like cooking a simple meal, slaughtering a pig, or getting into a car and turn them into universal metaphors for his characters plight. While other writers during the thirties sat and watched at a distance Steinbeck dove right in to the social horrors he wrote about. This often made his writings visceral and raw interpretations of the real lives of common men, which forced readers to come face to face with the social problems that twentieth century American culture was propagating.   
     But people began to see Steinbeck as constantly taking the side of social radicals and people on the fringes of society. In doing so Steinbeck himself was pilloried as a social radical despite his objective approach to observing social behavior. His ideas on the righteous moral virtue of working class citizens and his vision of society as a singular organism scared many Americans during a time of great social unrest. This forced his readers to question their existing social and moral values, which caused an uproar during his lifetime. Yet despite all of the opposition to his subject matter, John Steinbeck remained true to his own moral principles and continued to write “quasi-journalistic fiction that touched on burning social problems” regardless of whether or not it “brought him into angry collision with some of America’s cherished values (Dickstein, 6).”


     After analyzing his early short stories such as Cup of Gold and The Pastures of Heaven it is clear that Steinbeck did not start out as a sociopolitical activist. His experiences, more than anything else, shaped him into the great American author he would later become. Growing up in Salinas Steinbeck had a front row seat to the struggle of working class Mexican immigrants. Through his observations he saw that these were decent hard working people with a sense of moral virtue that surpassed the social standards of popular American culture. In these lower class citizens Steinbeck saw what he considered the proof of mankind’s success. Yet in the midst of the Great Depression and World War One, Steinbeck became increasingly concerned with the development of popular culture. “[It was during the thirties that] Steinbeck went from a detached observer who sees a strike as the crucible of a larger metaphysical conflict to an indignant muckraker and reformer exposing the abuses and human costs of the system (Dickstein, 6).” His shift from a semi-journalistic short story author to a social reformist was not planned in the sense that he had a hidden agenda. Instead, Steinbeck’s writing style came about through his scientific and first-hand observation of the lives of everyday common people. Steinbeck saw first hand how California landowners exaggerated the amount of jobs available just so they could drive down the cost of labor as droves of “Oakies” came into the state to escape the drought in the Midwest. He watched as the same greedy landowners let food rot as immigrant babies died of malnutrition. This social horror was a result of corporate America blatantly usurping displaced farmers escaping from the Dust Bowl and Steinbeck wanted to voice this travesty to the American people. “The fruit of American plenty on the California trees and vines is exactly the fruit that beleaguered migrants cannot have, the dream that will never be realized (Dickstein, 7).” The Grapes of Wrath and other Steinbeck novels forced American society to question its attitudes on migrant workers and the plight of the common man. This uncertainty caused people to violently reject Steinbeck’s work because he was writing it in a time when political propaganda emphasized American nationalism and the individual, not the benefits of a migrant work force or the needs of the group over the individual. “[Steinbeck’s work] emphasized that rugged individualism must ultimately temper itself according to the dictates of the greater community (Mathis, 29).” These ideas reeked of communism and governmental responsibility for the poor—something Americans were not easily inclined to accept.
     But perhaps the strong opposition to Steinbeck’s work echoes his skill as a writer. “If anything, the visceral reaction his prose testifies to the power of his art. If he hit a little too close to home and stepped on peoples' toes, he was only fulfilling the duties of a good writer (Price, Bloom 43).” If Steinbeck hadn’t truly captured the struggle of working class citizens in The Grapes of Wrath, Of Mice and Men, and In Dubious Battle, readers perhaps would have cast these works aside as nothing more than exaggerated reformist propaganda. But in Steinbeck’s weathered hands “the enormous sympathy, the philosophic overtones, the pervading spirit of humanity [in The Grapes of Wrath] informed the melodramatic elements with something more important than their surfaces and very nearly excused them (Snell, 193).” Because he was able to fully capture the suffering of these people and successfully point to commercial America as the cause, Steinbeck was able to strike home with the power of his message. But his newfound prose for the plight of social underdogs extended beyond migrant workers in America. Steinbeck set his next focus on translating the struggle of communists.
     During and after the First World War the American Government portrayed communists as anarchists more concerned with social disruption than social interdependence. In fact, J. Edgar Hoover established the now (in)famous Federal Bureau of Investigation for the sole purpose of combating the communist threat in America during this time period. Anti-communist sentiments persisted up until (and perhaps after) the Cold War, yet Steinbeck sought to change a lot of the American perceptions of communists in a travelogue titled A Russian Journal. The work was a personal account of an expedition John Steinbeck and renowned photographer Robert Capa took across Russia during the late forties. “Above all else, [Steinbeck and Capa] vowed to ‘avoid all politics,’ as Steinbeck noted: ‘All we wanted to do was to report what Russian people were like’… [A Russian Journal] showed Americans that they were not so different from ordinary Russians, a gesture meant to unify rather than divide these two world powers at such a crucial juncture in history (Price, Bloom 23).” In accordance with his prose for the social underdog, Steinbeck sought to bring attention to the day-to-day lives of Russian communists in order to force people to question their perceptions. But A Russian Journal was not the first of Steinbeck’s works to investigate the ethics of the communist mentality.
     Written in 1936, In Dubious Battle was “An exploration of how individual morality is submerged and lost with in a group or institution (George, 29).” One of Steinbeck’s most popular novels, In Dubious Battle showed the flaws of the communist mentality (although it was never specifically stated that the characters were communists) and illustrated Steinbeck’s true attitudes towards communism. It told the story of two communist organizers who usurped people into believing in a labor strike that would result in thousands of people loosing their jobs. They used scare tactics and lies to mislead followers into whole heartedly supporting their strike, which Steinbeck felt was the fundamental flaw of communism. “[The communists strike organizers] are not strike ‘leaders,’ in Steinbeck’s view, but men who have learned to tune in to the rhythms of group life, who become adept a using the material at hand, including their own human losses, as a means of playing on people and welding their anger into an iron fist (Dickstein, 10).” The communist organizers are portrayed as evil men unconcerned with the wellbeing of the group; they just want to gain power for their cause. This, I think, sheds light upon a fundamental paradox in the communist ethos that Steinbeck was well aware of. Philosophically, socialism and communism seemed like they could work if every person was willing to sacrifice something for their fellow man. But the sad truth of the matter is that communism and socialism are both destined to fail because the stupid and greedy will always attempt manipulate people for their own ends. An essential unification of ideals has the power to do a world of good but in the wrong hands a unified populace can be easily controlled and used for evil rather than good. Steinbeck understood this fundamental dilemma and he used In Dubious Battle to showcase it. “[Through In Dubious Battle] Steinbeck appears to have ascertained, and openly critiqued, communism's problems regarding practical application, thus showing an American audience the incongruity of the political theory and its necessarily de-humanizing implementation (Price, Bloomer 40).” Steinbeck’s unfavorable portrayal of communist organizers in this story illustrated that despite the fact that American’s were pillorying him as a communist and social radical he understood that the communist ethos could never work realistically.


     So if John Steinbeck wasn’t a left wing social reformist seeking to radically alter the sociopolitical culture of America through his literary works then what kind of author was he? “Steinbeck was a uniquely American novelist, the critics contended, whose distrust and anger at society was offset by his faith and love for the land and its people (Gale, 1).” His stories often reflect this juxtaposition of attitudes by presenting two sided arguments that are not invariably one thing or another. He presents information on both sides of the spectrum in order to increase the gravity of his stories and add depth to his characters. “Steinbeck’s unparalleled interest in people and their moral insufficiencies…meant that his [characters] would not be mere animated arguments or stiff exemplifications of ‘good’ in conflict with equally simple examples of ‘evil’ (Snell, 196).” This ability to truly capture the internal struggle of people who are not entirely good or evil allowed his characters to resonate deeply with people from all walks of life. His characters’ decisions are burdened with the moral insufficiencies of their personality, which gives them a sense of humanity that we can all relate to. By being able to capture the true essence of people and translate that into his characters Steinbeck could rise above the cultural stigma associated with his subject matter and appeal to people from a wide range of intellectual backgrounds.
     But the true gravity of Steinbeck’s work extends beyond his ability to capture the essence of working class citizens and social underdogs. By skillfully creating detailed backdrops for his characters, Steinbeck’s works often serve as microcosms for the macrocosm of large social movements. Through the use of a literary tool known as an “inter-chapter” Steinbeck was able to capture not only the plight of a single family unit but also the struggle of the entire working class. “[In The Grapes of Wrath] Steinbeck used one family to stand for a mass migration, and added sweeping interchapters that generalize this movement into a vast social phenomenon (Dickstein, 15).” Through the use of interchapters Steinbeck was able to add context to his already engaging characters, which gave his work a deep sense of gravity and weight. By establishing a vast and often cinematic backdrop for his characters Steinbeck could let them stand for an entire class of people instead of individuals in a storyline. This allowed his work to take on a more serious role in influencing the attitudes of the American public because he was not simply spinning yarn about the Joad family and their struggle; he was using one family as an allegory for a much larger social movement that composed hundreds of families and thousands of struggles. 
     Because John Steinbeck was able to capture the true essence of his characters and create resonating universal backdrops that allowed people from all walks of life to appreciate their stories, Steinbeck was truly the champion of the common man. While most realist writers of the thirties were writing about what they saw at a distance Steinbeck took it upon himself to delve into the everyday lives of people he called “common men” and in doing so wrote with an understanding that no other American author of his time could match. He was able to transcribe the plight of social underdogs with such gravity and weight that mainstream America was unable to deny the social horrors they themselves were oblivious to, yet creating. Because Steinbeck forced Americans to question the very framework of their moral foundation in a time when popular society called for placidity in their ambivalence he became the anti-hero. And yet, through the power of his stories he changed many opinions on critical social concerns such as poverty, immigration, and communist ideals and for this he will always be remembered. From a young boy fascinated with the story of King Arthur, to a quasi-journalistic fiction writer, to a Pulitzer Prize winning author John Steinbeck will forever be remembered as the champion of the common man because he was a common man. Sir Thomas Watt offered this assessment of Steinbeck’s literary work, which I think is a fitting end to this biographical analysis. "Like America itself, [Steinbeck’s] work is a vast, fascinating, paradoxical universe: a brash experiment in democracy; a naive quest for understanding at the level of the common man; a celebration of goodness and innocence; a display of chaos, violence, corruption and decadence. It is no neatly-shaped and carefully-cultivated garden of artistic perfections, but a sprawling continent of discordant extremes (Gale, 10).”







Works Cited


* The Grapes of Wrath and In dubious Battle respectively.

1.) Price, Michael Bloom, Harold. “John Steinbeck and His Achievement.” Bloom’s BioCritiques: John Steinbeck: 2003, p43-82, 40p. EBSCO Research Database. Stable URL: http://web.ebscohost.com/lrc/detail?vid=3&hid=2&sid=558482fc-be0b-44a1-9c50-ae0984df416e%40sessionmgr2


3.) Andrew E. Mathis, “The King Arthur Myth in Modern American Literature.” McFarland & Co. Publishers. North Carolina 2002

4.) Moore, Harry Thorton, “The Novels of John Steinbeck.” Kennikat Press Inc. Port Washington New York.

5.) Snell, George, “The Shapers of American Fiction.” Cooper Square Publishers Inc. New York New York. 1961

6.) George, Stephen K. “The Moral Philosophy of John Steinbeck.” The Scarecrow Press Inc. Lanham Maryland. 2005


7.) Dickstein, Morris. “Steinbeck and the Great Depression.” South Atlantic Quarterly. Duke University Press. 2004

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

FASB Codification Statement No. 154 & Operational Assets

     The issuance of Statement No 154 is the result of a broader effort by the FASB to improve the comparability of cross-boarder financial reporting by working with the IASB toward development of a single set of high-quality accounting standards. One of the areas identified in which financial reporting in the United States could be improved was the reporting of accounting changes as defined by APB Opinion No 20 and FASB Statement No 3. Statement No 154 replaces APB Opinion No 20, Accounting Changes, and FASB Statement No 3, Reporting Accounting Changes in Interim Financial Statements, and changes the requirements for the accounting for and reporting of a change in accounting principle to eliminate differences between Opinion 20 and IAS 8, Accounting Policies, Changes in Accounting Estimates and Errors.

     Companies often make changes to their accounting principles because the new method is preferable to the old one. One example would be a change from FIFO to LIFO, because the change results in a more meaningful matching of costs with revenues. Another example would be a change from straight-line depreciation to sum-of-the-years'- digits depreciation, because the new method better reflects the pattern of benefits from the fixed assets.
    
     Under statements previously issued by the FASB, changes in accounting principle were recognized as a cumulative effect in the net income of the period of the change. Statement 154 requires retrospective application of changes in accounting principle and correction of errors, limited to the direct effects of the change, to prior periods’ financial statements, unless it is impracticable to determine either the period-specific effects or the cumulative effect of the change. When it is impracticable to determine the period-specific effects of an accounting change on one or more individual prior periods presented, this Statement requires that the new accounting principle be applied to the balances of assets and liabilities as of the beginning of the earliest period for which retrospective application is practicable and that a corresponding adjustment be made to the opening balance of retained earnings for that period rather than being reported in an income statement.When it is impracticable to determine the cumulative effect of applying a change in accounting principle to all prior periods, this Statement requires that the new accounting principle be applied as if it were adopted prospectively from the earliest date practicable.

     Statement 154 mandates that any changes in accounting principle be applied retrospectively to the balance of assets and liabilities instead of reporting the effects of changes on the income statement. Statement 154 improves financial reporting because its requirement to report voluntary changes in accounting principles via retrospective application, unless impracticable, enhances the consistency of financial information between periods and more closely matches FASB standards with the IASB. As stated by IAS 8.19, “If a change in accounting policy is required by a new IASB standard or interpretation, the change is accounted for as required by that new pronouncement or, if the new pronouncement does not include specific transition provisions, then the change in accounting policy is applied retrospectively.” That improved consistency enhances the usefulness of the financial data by facilitating analysis and understanding of comparative accounting information across boarders.



06/10/14 Copyright: -Nathan J. Fragala-

Pros and Cons of Consolidation

The Usefulness and Limitations of Consolidated Financial Statements

     Whenever information is consolidated there is inherently a sacrifice of datum. Consolidation is necessary because while this information may be pertinent to some users of financial data that information may not, and it is the function of consolidation which segregates this from that. “Consolidated statements often provide the only means of obtaining a clear picture of the total resources of the combined entity that are under the parent`s control and the results of employing those resources…[They summarize] the vast amounts of information relating to the individual companies and how the positions and operations of the individual companies affect the overall consolidated entity (109).” While the consolidated financials provide a general picture of the financial health of an entity and its subsidiaries, the question of whether or not they are important lies in who is asking the question. In a parent/subsidiary relationship the parent’s creditors have an indirect claim on the subsidiaries’ assets; therefore, they are more concerned with the organization’s immediate solvency rather than its long-term profitability. However, “even though they also have an indirect claim on the subsidiaries’ assets, [short-term creditors] are usually more interested in the parent`s immediate solvency rather than its long-term profitability (109).”
     The three different theories of consolidation are the proprietary theory, the parent company theory, and the entity theory. Accounting for the proprietary theory involves pro rata consolidation “in which the parent company consolidates only its proportionate share of a less-than-wholly-owned subsidiary`s assets, liabilities, revenues, and expenses (119).” Noncontrolling interest`s share of these accounts is not included in the consolidated financial statements under this approach. All subsidiary assets and liabilities included in the consolidated balance sheet are based on the full fair values at the date of combination, and the full amount of goodwill is included regardless of the percentage of ownership held by the parent.
     Under the parent company approach all of the subsidiary`s assets, liabilities, revenues, and expenses are included in the consolidated financial statements but only the parent`s share of any fair value increment and goodwill is included. This theory “recognizes that the parent has the ability to effectively control all of the assets and liabilities of a majority-owned subsidiary, not just a proportionate share, even though the parent does not actually own the subsidiary`s assets or have any obligation for its liabilities (119).” The noncontrolling shareholders` claim on the subsidiary is reported on the consolidated balance sheet based on a proportionate share of the book value of the subsidiary`s net assets and the noncontrolling interest`s share of income is deducted to arrive at consolidated net income.  
     “As a general ownership theory, the entity theory focuses on the firm as a separate economic entity rather than on the ownership rights of the shareholders (119).” All of the assets, liabilities, revenues and expenses of a less-than-wholly-owned subsidiary are consolidated and no special treatment is awarded to either the controlling or noncontrolling interest. Under this approach, the controlling and noncontrolling shareholders are viewed as two separate groups, each having equity in the consolidated entity as a whole. Subsidiary assets and liabilities are included in the consolidated financials based on the full fair values at the date of combination, and the full amount of any goodwill is included regardless of the percentage of ownership held by the parent (119). 

Copyright: Nathan J. Fragala 06/16/14

"Advanced Financial Reporting" (9th edition) 

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

The Tao as an "ism"


The Tao as an “ism

     “Among [the] attitudes and ways of [Taoist] thinking- I would specify an organic view of man and the universe, the notion that all phenomena (including man) are knit together in a seamless web of interacting forces, both visible and invisible. Interwoven with this idea of ceaseless flux: that the apogee of any of these forces engenders a reversion toward its opposite.”
                                                                                    -Arthur F. Wright-

 

I: Background

     The ebb and flow of the natural universe has been the core of Eastern philosophy since its conception over four thousand years ago. The ceaseless flux of this indelible tide encompasses anything and everything in the natural world and has been the foundation of what we will call religion in the East since man first started to question his place in the universe. When Westerners think of religion in the East we often associate it with Buddhism, Confucianism or some other kind of “ism” or symbol that represents the common dogmatic institutions that exist in Western religions, i.e. (heaven, hell, god, etc.) just from a different perspective. The truth is that the ideology formulated in Western religions around the Mediterranean and the ideologies of the Ancient East are all but common. The idea of “God” in the West ranges anywhere from the force that kick started the Big Bang, to a being in white robes up in the sky who is responsible for everything we see and do. In China, the idea of religion is just a way of expressing the fundamental nature of the universe and living in harmony with its current- not a being in heaven or an everlasting existence of life after death. This is where much of the debate stems over whether or not the various forms of Eastern philosophy can be considered different religions, or just different schools of thought. In H.G. Creel’s 1956 submission to the, “Journal of the American Oriental Society,” known as, “What Is Taoism?” he argues that the distinction between religion and philosophy, “[is] made poorly if at all”(Creel, 144) He categorizes two opposing ways of thinking about Eastern philosophy; one that focuses on the understanding and cognition of ancient philosophical texts known as contemplative Taoism, and another that focuses on the actual practices that aim at reaching a heightened state of enlightenment or even immortality known as purposive Taoism. In this analysis of H.G. Creel’s article, I will examine the beginnings of the tao and its transformation into an, “ism,” the historiography of the Chuang Tzu and the Lao Tzu (or lack there of), the differences between contemplative and purposive Taoism as explained by H.G. Creel, how the rift between the two arose, and finally conclude with my own interpretation Taoism with emphasis on how these two seemingly opposing ideologies have been merged together over time.
     One of the most fascinating things about studying ancient Chinese history and philosophy is that historical records in China catalog events that happened well over four thousand years ago. From the first remnants of Chinese society to the collapse of communism in China, most every major happening has been scribed. The first historiographer, or historian of written history, was a Chinese man known as Sima Qian known for having written the Shiji, or the “Records of the Grand Historian”- a historical record of everything that had transpired in China up to the second century B.C.. But in order to better understand the origins of the tao as an ism, we must step back one generation to Sima Qian’s father, Sima Tan.
     Sima Tan had been Grand Astrologer to the, “First Emperor of Chin,” Emperor Han Wudi, and was a historian himself. He wrote several essays scrutinizing the conflicting schools of governance that existed in his time and compiled them into his most famous work, the “Yaozhi” or, “Essential Points.” (All of Sima Tan’s work can be found compiled in the back his son’s great anthology, “The Shiji,” which is why I have cited them in the Shiji as apposed to the Yaozhi.) The “Yaozhi” broke away from previous classifications of thought, which categorized philosophical works in relation to a founding teacher, by, “organiz[ing] knowledge with reference to its intellectual content.”(5 Jia, 129) He listed six different schools of thought; three had already been in existence well before Tan, and another three that were of his own creation. His work would later be praised as the foundation of all schools of thought during the Warring States Period of ancient China and it allowed key political figures a foundation of political thought with which to refer to. “One hundred years later, Tan’s six configurations had become the “schools” of Warring States political thought, with texts, authors, affiliations, and a history. Insofar as Tan had made order from a confusing multiplicity of views, he also provided a tool with which imperial bibliographers could rewrite an early story of their own [school of thought.]”(5 Jia, 131)  Known as the “Six Jia,” each school embodies a different ideology of political behavior- finally culminating with the Daojia, the most important of the six Jia and the reason for the “Yaozhi.”
     The Yinyang School of governance focused on good and evil and relied heavily on occult phenomena in an attempt to rationalize the human relationship with the natural world. “Yinyang is a set of broadly shared assumptions about the relationship of natural and human worlds.”(5 Jia, 137) “They emphasize omens and multiply taboos and prohibitions…But their ordering of the great sequence must not be lost.”(Shiji, 130) When Westerners think of Yinyang they often recall the symbol of the circle with black and white sides both running into each other but their understanding stops there. The Yinyang symbolizes not simply good and evil, like many people may assume, instead it relates to the ebb and flow of the universal fabric discussed by Arthur Write at the beginning of this essay. The Yin and the Yang are not good and evil; in the true context they are often referred to as man and woman, life and death, fire and water. These things are not necessarily opposites, but coexisting portions of an eternal fabric with which we are all common threads. One of these things cannot survive without its other, and neither can survive without proper balance; this is the essence of the Yinyang School. It is in this context of proper balance that the Yinyang School refers to “occult practices” because in early Han China the spirits of good and evil were very much real things that needed to be acknowledged and venerated in order to sustain appropriate balance. This is why it is important that, “…their ordering of the great sequence must not be lost.”
     Contemporary scholars would consider the “Ru” throughout Chinese history to be people who governed themselves and others under Confucian ideals.

    -“The Ru are wide reaching but with few of the essentials. They labor but to small result…The texts and commentaries- number in the thousands and tens of thousands {of words}. In several generations one could not get through their teachings; in one’s whole lifetime one could not fully investigate their rites. But their ordering of the rites between sovereign and minister, father and son…husband and wife, old and young must not be changed”
                                                                                     (Shiji, 130) 

Quan Fuzi, or Confucius, like many Ancient Eastern philosophers, did not write any of his own teachings down. He left his ideas to be contemplated and interpreted by each of his individual students and because of this, during the later years after Confucius’ death, several former followers expanded on what they took from his teachings and created a number of competing schools- all of which claiming to represent the authoritative teachings of Confucius. Instead of classifying each school by author and founder like historians before him would have, Sima Tan simply found a common historical thread between all of the Confucian schools and created the “Ru” jia. This broad analysis helped him maintain continuity throughout the “Yaozhi,” focusing on general descriptions of each school so that readers would not get lost in complicated descriptions. This passage, however, is vague at best. Even the commentaries by later analysts would say, “As either a historical or intellectual summary of the Ru, this passage would receive very low marks…As with his treatment of the Yinyang, Tan is presenting Ruhist teachings as they were commonplaces [within] Han socio-political life.”(5 Jia, 139) That is to say, Sima Tan is presenting general ideas about the Ru that many early Han peoples shared.
     The Mo, “are too frugal to be easily followed…But their strengthening of the root {occupations} and sparing use {of resources} must not be discarded.”(Shiji, 130) Like many ancient Eastern texts, explanations of the six Jia are often surrounded by ambiguity. It is important to remember the context that each quote is in. For example, translators of the Shiji added in the words “occupations” and “of resources” to better explain the governmental context that the passage was written. One can govern oneself by Mohist ideology, or one can govern an entire kingdom under it. It is important to remember the governmental context in which each of the six Jia are explained- this way, one can better understand how each school of thought distinguishes itself from the others.
      By this time, around the second century B.C., Buddhism and Confucianism were becoming more prominent as political ideals in the minds of the ruling elite. As Tan witnessed them come to the forefront of political debate, he felt it necessary to categorize them in the Yaozhi. “While Sima Tan inherited the terms Yinyang, Ru and Mo [from the historians before him], it appears he invented Fajia, Mingjia and Daojia.”(5 Jia, 141) Sima Tan invented these last three Jia in order to exemplify three systems of governance that differed from the original Yinyang, Ru and Mo schools. It is likely that these ideas had been discussed before, but they were probably categorized as variations of the original three schools.                                                  
     When attempting to compile several diverse ideologies, it is important to over generalize so that the basic meaning behind each school is achieved. In order to better clarify his initial appraisals of the six Jia, each of the opening assessments are followed promptly by an auto-commentary written by Tan himself. Remember, each initial appraisal of the six Jia is supposed to embody an entire governmental ideology. The auto-commentary may further explain it but in interest of time I will not delve into the auto commentary.
     “The Fajia are strict and slight of kindness. But their rectification of the division between sovereign and minister, superior and inferior must not be altered.”(Shiji, 130) Fajia would later play a key role in describing “Legalism” in China as indicated by the “Hanshu” bibliography, a compendium much like Sima Qian’s “Records of the Grand Historian.” The “Hanshu Bibliography” details historical events, governmental ideologies, and prominent figures in the Han era and their governmental affiliations. In this history of the Han written over a hundred years after the “Yaozhi,” Fajia is interwoven as one of the major aspects of Legalist ideology.
     “The Mingjia engage in petty investigations and twisting entanglements, preventing people from returning to their original intent. They decide matters solely on the basis of words (ming){i.e. what has been contracted} and thereby loose the actual human circumstance.”(Shiji, 130) By the time of the Hanshu Bibliography, the Mingjia had evolved into what we would call sophists in today’s society: people who manipulate linguistic truth. I like to think of them as defense lawyers who rely on written texts to, “…estab[lish] reliable means to ascertain the truth of someone’s claims.”(5 Jia, 143) This ideology could easily be associated with “Legalism” and “Fajia” but since the term was not around during Sima Tan’s time he unknowingly dissected the entirety of legalist mentality into two different schools of thought, Fa and Ming. By the time the Hanshu Bibliography, both Fa and Ming became interwoven to resemble what we now distinguish as legalist ideology. “Mingjia concerns, then, are squarely in the domain we associate with our later concept ‘Legalism.’ Mingjia is simply that potion of administrative practice that emphasizes the formal relations between an official and his supervisor.”(5 Jia, 143) Thus, “Legalism” in Chinese history became known as a mix of both Fa and Mingjia ideology.
     The sixth and most important Jia is known as the Dao.

    -“The Daojia cause the spiritual essence of human beings to be concentrated and unified. Their actions are joined with the formless, their provision sufficient to the myriad things. In the practice of their techniques they accord with the great sequence of Yinyang, select the good of the Ru and Mo, and adopt the essentials of the Ming and Fa.”
   (Shiji, 130)

 This final school known as the Daojia culminates the meaning behind Sima Tan’s “Yaozhi.” “It was a polemic, for Tan argued that Dao-people take what is essential from each of the other configurations and combine it on the basis of vacuity and accordance, by virtue of which they offer a completed repertory of political knowledge…the ‘Yaozhi’ was…an appeal to the Han Emperor Wu to rule by Daoist means.”(5 Jia, 130) The Daojia was not just another school of thought for Tan; it was the culmination of all political thought. This is why it is important to understand all of the six Jia because each opposing school contributes a certain important aspect of effective leadership but lacks the totality of the Daojia School. Like the idea of Yin and Yang, the Daojia finds a balance between the opposing schools and combines the important parts of each into the Dao or “Way” of true governance.
     If the “Yaozhi” was indeed a polemic, or a passionate and strongly worded argument against or in favor of something, and Sima Tan was arguing for the Han Emperor Wu to rule under the Daojia mentality, then what is the significance of the word Dao? If Yinyang stands for the presence of good and evil, the character “Ru-Jia” stands for Confucianism, “Mo-Jia” “…is characterized by thriftiness”(5 Jia, 140), “Fa-Jia” along with “Ming-Jia” constitute Legalism, then what is the meaning behind the phrase “Dao-Jia”?     
     The term “jia” is often referred to a person with expertise in something and in the case of the “Yaozhi” it was a person with certain expertise in a particular form of governance. But each of the other five schools has a far more literal translation than the sixth and final Jia. Why? “In the kaleidoscopic firmament of Taoism there is one relatively fixed star: the term tao. But if all that is Taoist has the term tao, not every Chinese philosophy that uses the term is Taoist, for in fact they all do.”(Creel, 139)
     It seems that in truly ancient times the pictograph tao meant “path” or “road” but as time progressed, the character took on a more philosophical context denoting a method or course of conduct that is ultimately righteous.
     All of the ancient Eastern philosophies are congruent with this term for it means the same thing in each. “For the Confucians tao is the way, the method, of right conduct for the individual and for the state.”(Creel, 139) But for Sima Tan in the context of the “Yaozhi,” a socio-political compendium of political thought in early Han China, it meant the ultimately righteous path of governance and he used the commonly known character of the philosophical tao to solidify his argument to the Han Emperor to rule his kingdom under “Daojia.”
     Is this Taoism then? Has “Daojia” simply evolved into what we now know as Daoism? The practice of the philosophical tao was around well before Sima Tan and his son The Grand Historian, so how could Taoism be a later development? In order to understand the origins of the Tao as an “ism” we must look back on the ancient texts known as the “Lao Tzu” and the “Chuang Tzu,” thought to be two of the first compilations of Taoist thought.

 

I I: The Ancient Texts

     Both the Chuang Tzu and the Lao Tzu have been subjects of Taoist debate for over two thousand years. The Lao Tzu and the Chuang Tzu are considered to be both books and, according to whom you believe, people in antiquity. The problem with formulating an argument, however, is that even Sima Qian the author of the first historiographical text could not gather enough information to make a concrete decision. “As early as the second century B.C. there had already been different theories on [who Lao Tzu was.] Sima Qian, the Grand Historian, could not decide which theory is authentic, so, as a good historian, he recorded all theories available…but refused to give his preference.”(Prblms, 209) If even in Sima Qian’s time there was not enough information to make an informed decision on who Lao Tzu was, then all later arguments are completely theoretical and therefore pointless to bring up in an attempt to explain the historiography of the “Lao Tzu.” The problem is that many ancient Eastern philosophers purposely didn’t write down their own words for fear that some dogmatic institution would be based solely around an idea or quote that is incomprehensible in a hundred lifetimes. Most of the words we see in the Confucian manual the “Analects” and in the Lao Tzu or “Tao Te Ching” are words written by former students in an attempt to maintain homogeneity throughout the texts. I happen to support Creel’s examination where he states, “At some point someone brought together many of the best of [Lao Tzu’s] sayings, and may have collected and written other materials to go with them, and made the book called the Lao Tzu.”(Creel, 142) By prefacing all the material that may or may not have been written by the vague character known as Lao Tzu with, “Lao Tzu said,” later writers could maintain homogeneity throughout the Lao Tzu and gain respectability of (potentially) their own ideas through using the pseudonym Lao Tzu.
     Now, when writing a historiography paper it is important to select an event of some controversy, like the invasion of the “Black Ships” in Tokyo harbor, or the resolution of the Cuban Missile Crisis- not an Eastern philosophy. What the oldest Tao Te Ching and Chuang Tzu texts say is congruent with what the latest version says; what differs are the commentary; what one individual takes from a specific passage, another could take something wholly different. This is also magnified ten fold due to the hieroglyphic nature of the Chinese writing system. One little swoop that doesn’t connect the symbol of the “rice patty” to the symbol of the “oxen” and all of a sudden you’ve got something that means “toilette scrubber” or some other thing. This is why I’m favoring a more historical analysis of the origin of the philosophy known as Taoism, not the debates over which individual character is interpreted as what. But I did dig a little and found an article written by a guy born in 1892 who stated, “The… [Shiji]…records a person with the same name, position, fief and rank as the son of [Lao-Tzu]…This son was [dead] in 273, hence we can safely date his father, [Lao-Tzu], in 300 B.C.”(Dubs, 300) Although professor Bodde, the person whom Mr. Dubs is replying to, “…agrees in identifying Dzung, the personal name of the Lao-[Tzu’s] son…”(Dubs, 300) he does not agree with Professor Dubs interpretation of the name derived from Sima Qian’s “Shiji,” Duan-gan. Dubs defends his argument by saying that, “In the eagerness of my discovery, I misstated my position and must beg indulgence for having been so positive on a matter which I knew was not certain.”(Dubs, 300)
     “The Identification of the Lao-Dz, A Reply to Professor Bodde” is a typical example of the historiography I found about the various important Taoist texts. In dealing with pictographs, rhymes, riddles and songs, which is what both the Lao Tzu and the Chuang Tzu consist mainly of, it is difficult to find any real controversy over the translations. Thus, without any real controversy over the historiography of a given subject, one is simply left with the subjects’ history. The Chinese kept very detailed historical records and much of the language used in the second century B.C. is the same as what is used in China today- making the translations of these ancient texts quite accurate. Therefore, I must conclude the historiography of the ancient Taoist texts the Chuang Tzu and the Lao Tzu in agreement with Professor Creel. “Both the Chuang Tzu and the Lao Tzu are really collections of Taoist writings and saying, made by different persons in differing times, rather than the single work of any one person.”(Creel, 139)
    

I I I: The Tao as an “ism”

     Now that we have gained a better understanding of Taoism and some of the history behind its most famous texts, we will now delve into the heart of Professor Creel’s argument of what Taoism actually is.
     “If anyone is apprehensive that I am going to give an answer to the question posed by the title of this paper, let me reassure him at once. I shall not be so foolish as to try to propound a single sovereign definition of what Taoism is.”(Creel, 130) It is clear from Herlee Creel’s opening statement that even the most learned scholar could never explain the tao in one singular definition. As a quote from the actual Lao Tzu says, “In the ways of the great Tao, even the most enlightened sage is ignorant.”  What professor Creel does explain is the difference between two ways of interpreting Taoism, contemplative and purposive Taoism, and how the distinction between the two came about.
     Contemplative Taoism is the aspect of the tao that denotes introspection into the words and teachings of the “Ancient Texts.” Passages are often cryptic, terse and aphoristic which I believe was done on purpose so that later students could expound upon what they themselves took from the individual texts in order to gain a greater understanding of the Great Tao via their own introspection. In order to “attain” the tao one mustn’t follow a set of dogmatic practices or be concerned with heavenly rank, one must only act in accordance with the tao- nothing more.  “It may be noted, however, that while it is quite lacking in any practical program, [contemplative Taoism] has provided a haven of inner strength, a refuge from vicissitude, for a great number of [people] from antiquity to the present.”(Creel, 141)
     While it is agreed that, “…the central idea of Taoists in the ancient period was Self-preservation (wei-wu),”(Prblms, 211) it is not so clear as to what kind of self preservation. The ancient texts of Taoism often refer to the attainment of “immortality” through Taoist means but they were simply referring to living a life with a firm foundation in Taoist thought, not preserving the self beyond the confines of death. “The mere idea of toiling for immortality is repugnant to that of wei-wu. The Confucian moral tone, and concern for rank in a heavenly hierarchy, conflict with the moral indifference and robust anarchism of Taoist philosophy.”(Creel, 144) 
     “It is clear…that the poise and inner calm that may be derived from the attitude on contemplative Taoism elevates him who holds it above the struggling mass of harried men…and may give a psychological advantage in dealing with them. Very well says the ‘purposive’ Taoist; cultivate this attitude as a means to power!”(Creel, 141) A fitting example of purposive thought, this form of Taoist thinking is marked by one constant aim: the achievement of immortality. Purposive Taoism derives from a warped interpretation of early Taoist explanations of spiritual alchemy. “The method of spiritual alchemy is to burn away all the pollution of acquired conditioning, and not let the slightest flaw remain in the heart, so that one may reexperience original completeness.”(I-Ching, 60) Spiritual alchemy has nothing to do with consuming elixirs or turning base metals into gold, it simply aims at doing away with acquired conditioning and reverting to the true self. During this time, however, shamans were just starting to grasp the medicinal purposes behind old folk remedies, which caused their belief in spiritual healing to be replaced with a more scientific approach. This gave them the means to investigate the reasons behind folk remedies and expand on them thus increasing their knowledge of the scientific world. “Chinese medical science originated in Shamanism.”(Prblms, 233) But as knowledge in medicinal science grew, the limits of that knowledge seemed boundless. “From healing the sick and forestalling death temporarily, it is only a jump to the idea of forestalling death permanently.”(Creel, 145)
     The idea of purposive or “h’sein” Taoism likely arose as the rift between the upper and lower class Chinese grew. “With the ‘Neolithic Revolution’… came the differentiation of classes and the creation of an elite who specialized in warfare, statecraft, and magical Taoist functions… This…was the beginning of the differentiation of the great tradition[s] of the elite and the little traditions of the peasant villages” (His, 252) Taoism by this time had already accumulated a fair amount popularity as it mixed with old Chinese folklore and Buddhism. Practices such as breath control and gymnastics similar to Hindu yoga we common amongst the peasantry but the alchemical practices of the ruling elite were based around the attainment of immortality and were thus, far different. Homemade brews of alchemic solutions were fed to Emperors including “quicksilver” known as the toxic chemical mercury in the quest for immortality; which coincidently only served to quicken their demise. Sexual practices such as having intercourse with “twelve hundred girls sixteen or seventeen years of age” were aimed at becoming a “h’sein” Taoist immortal. “The immortality in question was a perpetuation of the physical body. It might be possible, by [these] special means, for one to…become a h’sein, forever deathless and ageless.”(Creel, 143) But the Taoist masters meant not the perpetuation of endless life by the words “Taoist immortal,” instead they meant reaching a heightened state of existence on earth through the cultivation of Taoist knowledge. “Immortality or transcendence in Taoism is a transcendent state in paradise and psychological state on earth. It may be described in ecstatic or enstatic terms…In all cases…[it is a return] to replicas of the universe, [a return] to primordial energy, spirit and the tao.”(Kohn, 638)  
    

Conclusion

     The literal translation of the ancient Taoist texts served only to hasten the deaths of the people who foolishly sought eternal life. Emperors who wore beaded headdresses to symbolize their connection with the heavens became insane as their quest for the elixir of life pulled them closer to the mortality of man, and further from everlasting existence in the realm of eternity. The passage of Taoism from contemplative to purposive served only to weaken the bond between the “h’sein” Taoists and the great tao itself and that is the basis of the tao as an ism.
     As the dogmatic practices surrounding the tao snowballed during the mid to late Han period, people began to believe they could comprehend the incomprehensible tao as it became dissected and institutionalized. “…The pulling together of the elements of folk religion into a loose [taoist] system [and] the translating down of the Lao Tzu for indoctrination of the masses…”(His, 254) served only to cause the fears of the great Taoist masters to be realized.
     The purpose of the ancient Taoist masters was to leave their teaching to be contemplated, not institutionalized. As the Han Emperor indoctrinated the masses with Taoism, it became less of a philosophy and more of a religion based solely on unifying a diverse people. Although an essential factor in the unification, the indoctrinization of the tao caused its true meaning to become obscured. The dark minds of men twisted the idea of wei-wu, or self-preservation, into a fruitless quest for immortality only to realize that being a Taoist Immortal meant only living a humble life in accordance with the tao. The Tao as an ism arose from too much introspection into the tao (a befitting conclusion for the Taoist masters, I think). Perhaps they had all this in mind when writing the ancient texts of Taoism. In any case, the ancient texts were meant to be scrutinized, yes, but only in contemplation; not systematized into dogmatic practice.
     If the things to learn are infinite and the body is a finite creation, what sense is there in relentlessly searching for that which cannot be attained? This is the essence of the tao: knowing through not knowing- action through inaction.


-Notes-
(In accordance with the simplistic virtues of the tao, I have decided not to capitalize the term on purpose. Also, I did not delve into the introduction of Christianity in China and the effects heaven and hell may have had on the Chinese.)


                                                                    Bibliography
(I Ching)
Lao Tzu, Translated by Thomas Cleary. “I-Ching” Boston Mass: Shambhala Publications, Inc, 1986

(Creel)
What Is Taoism?
H. G. Creel
Journal of the American Oriental Society , Vol. 76, No. 3. (Jul. - Sep., 1956), pp. 139-152.

(His)
A Historian's Reflections on the Taoist Tradition (in Symposium on Taoism)
Arthur F. Wright
History of Religions , Vol. 9, No. 2/3. (Nov., 1969 - Feb., 1970), pp. 248-255.
Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0018-2710%28196911%2F197002%299%3A2%2F3%3C248%3AAHROTT%3E2.0.CO%3B2-Q

(5 Jia)
Sima Tan and the Invention of Daoism, "Legalism," "et cetera"
Kidder Smith; Sima Tan
The Journal of Asian Studies, Vol. 62, No. 1. (Feb., 2003), pp. 129-156.
Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0021-9118%28200302%2962%3A1%3C129%3ASTATIO%3E2.0.CO%3B2-%23

(Prblms)
Problems of Tao and "Tao Te Ching"
Jan Yün-Hua
Numen , Vol. 22, Fasc. 3. (Dec., 1975), pp. 208-234.
Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0029-5973%28197512%2922%3A3%3C208%3APOTA%22T%3E2.0.CO%3B2-2

(Dubs)
The Identification of the Lao-Dz: A Reply to Professor Bodde
Homer H. Dubs
Journal of the American Oriental Society , Vol. 62, No. 4. (Dec., 1942), pp. 300-304.

(Kohn)
Eternal Life in Taoist Mysticism
Livia Kohn
Journal of the American Oriental Society , Vol. 110, No. 4. (Oct. - Dec., 1990), pp. 622-640.

Stable URL: http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0003-0279%28199010%2F12%29110%3A4%3C622%3AELITM%3E2.0.CO%3B2-D




Copyright: 06/10/14 Nathan J. Fragala