Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Textural Analysis

The story takes place the evening before Halloween, and as most people have probably mentioned, there is definite symbolism to be found for those that seek it. Despite having been desensitized to the notions of symbolism courtesy of sparknotes.com, I happened to really connect with the message that the story was trying to communicate. From the very beginning we see through the eyes of a man with complex issues, ideas, and dilemmas, all of which develop gradually over the course of the essay. The story is interesting in that both the true nature of Griffith and the theme of the narrative is given to the reader in small doses. By the time we learn of the narrator's guilty pleasure in regards to Abu Ghraib, the reader has somewhat learned of his character, and what may (or may not) have led to the shameless act of degradation that he committed. The scene placement is also interesting in its graduality. I view the story as being made up of three main scenes (the three Halloween parties) and a closing scene. (The scene where his friend and him scare kids on the porch) Each party is more boring, shallow, and degrading than the last, and it is at the last party, when our protagonist is at his most listless and weary, that he falls prey to the lustful inner-dwellings of his mind. The narrative closes with Griffith and his friend trying to scare some young kids, and I must say, the ending was surprisingly effective in terms of supporting the main idea and providing the reader with a vague sense of closure

Griffith is first portrayed as a lonely guy looking for a good time. The reader initially views him as a lonely, superstititious nerd. He seeks entertainment through role-playing, what with his "communicator" at his side and his flattered tone at being called "captain" by his friend. He sees Halloween as the perfect way to temporarily escape reality, and yet at the same time he sees Halloween as being "rife with omens," and secretely wishes for a blessing from the local Catholic priest. Perhaps this is the first hint that maybe it isn't some kind of literal demon or monster he's fearing; perhaps he's subconsciously afraid of his own personal demons that are lying repressed in his mind. His life is also quite boring. I like how he tried to make the best of his predicament by viewing his home in terms of some kind of artsy Japanese aesthetic. One can't help but pity Griffith as we see him living alone in a small apartment devoid of even the slightest decorations or accessories. There are several parts in the story that suggest that he is socially inept as well. He reminds me of myself during one of the low points in my life. When I read the part where he "inconspicuously" plays with his hair and cell phone, I couldn't help but reminisce on my earlier years of grade school, when I was a lonely guy desperately trying to make myself look cool through elusive actions and gestures such as the kinds Griffith makes. Deep down you know nobody's really paying attention to you, but it's still fun to delude your own self and pretend like they might be. As soon as I read that part, I thought to myself, "Yeah I feel for him, I've been in his place too." Another example of his low self esteem is seen when he is at the very first party. Each person is dressed completely different from one another, but they all share in common a love for everything pertaining to Star Trek. Everybody amuses themselves with inside jokes and helpings of vague, metaphorical claptrap, in which the entire room explodes in nerdish uproar, debating whether or not the Star Trek universe is a representation of our own. Another person suggests a series of parallels between Star Trek and the current war in Iraq, and it is here that we receive a vague hint of foreshadowing. Griffith finds it very odd that everyone is talking about the things such as the "one hundred thousand Iraqi civilian casualties," and the "no weapons of mass destruction," and yet nobody mentions the events at Abu Ghraib. At this point we begin to suspect that perhaps there's a sort of guilty or hypocritical reason why the people wish not to talk about it. It's later revealed that this assumption is true. Griffith feels even more out of place at the second party. Unlike the last party, which consisted of people in interesting costumes engaged in intelligent banter, the second one is by contrast a "lame" caricature of a present-generation party. There are some cliches on pop culture in this section, and they are casually mentioned over the course of a couple paragraphs. An example would be the part when Griffith describes the "Lolitas grinding to Outkast." The party seems to take a turn for the worst when the music switches to Chingy. If you don't know who Chingy is, please, avoid him like the plague. Even Outkast has its occasional moments of wit, but it's pretty safe to say that Chingy is at the top of the talentless hacks list.Griffith also begins to complain about being bored, and becomes very cynical of everything, such as the Catholic School Girls (in which he "expected more dark ingenuity from psychology students") and, of course, the loud rap music, which makes him think about the rut that today's pop culture is in. The content of modern rap videos bothers him as well. He begins to "weigh the blurred faces and genitalia of Abu Ghraib detainees against the near-naked, big-breasted, big-assed women gyrating on the subway." He then "weighs Charles Graner's look-what-I-caught smile and the pyramids of human bodies against the costumed psychologyPhDs grinding in the living room. " Upon reading this insight , we gradually begin to learn a little more about the character of Griffith. Though it hasn't been explicitly stated that Griffith actually enjoys seeing the Abu Ghraib pictures, by this point we know that the debacle of Abu Ghraib is really beginning to bother him for some reason. At this point I'm beginning to understand now why books, essays, etc. must be read at least twice, for the sake of context and understanding. It's very hard to catch bits of foreshadowing when something has only been read through a single time. The reader doesn't really know anything that's going on, kind of like when someone is reading through a mystery novel for the first time. Though it may seem counter-intuitive and strange, I would have to say that in my personal opinion, the mystery novel would be far more enjoyable to read the second time around, despite the fact that the ending has already been spoiled. Griffith now heads over to the final party, and it is here that we approach the true meat of the narrative. Griffith has had a rather uneventful night thus far, and it is at this party that he breaks down as a character and reveals his true emotions. He is very disappointed with the overall content of this party. He envisioned an entire gamut of pleasures awaiting him behind the party door, such as "orgies, maidens, fire shows, rollercoasters, and funhouses," but all of that is gone by the time he arrives. It is both significant and coincidental that his friend dressed up as Graner happens to befriend Griffith at this time. It's a classic instance of being in the wrong place in the wrong time, and it's reasonable to assume that if Griffith had been there in time for the beer and entertainment, he would have never been tempted to shamefully pose for the Abu Ghraib mock photograph. He was sucked in from the very moment he saw the pictures, and describes his friend's spectacle as being similar to "making a bomb from house-hold products. It isn't so much that it is wrong, it's that he thought to do it in the first place. He has actually gone through with it, gone beyond the point where people turn back, chicken out, and laugh it off." Even though he is sickened by it, he is exhilirated by it at the same time. I think everyone has been in a situation similar to this one. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a tastefully violent flick at one point or another? I also dare anyone to tell me that they didn't feel a burst of adrenaline upon first hearing about something as devastating as the attacks on the World Trade Centers. It certainly isn't a positive, healthy adrenaline, yet it's still exciting and intriguing all the same.
The next morning Griffith finds himself writhing in a puddle of his own shame. He wants to pretend like it never happened, yet nothing can divert him from reaching into his pocket and gazing at the polaroid of him smiling next to his masked friend. Desperate for comfort and solace, he calls his wife and speaks of the event in a sort of "I had a friend of a friend that did so-and-so..." fashion. This only aids in solidifying his guilt, as he unbearably listens to his wife speak of it in a horrifying manner. As he continues to contemplate the situation, he realizes that perhaps his friend was "showing what went on in Abu-Ghraib was not a case of a few bad apples, but a case of what we've all become, what we're all capable of." He finds it fascinating that the soldiers at Abu-Ghraib weren't depraved lunatics. They were educated and well-mannered people, just like us. He sarcastically states that "educated, metropolitan people could never do such things; we are too aware, too aware of the ways in which we must respect one another's differences; too aware that any amount of cruelty is uncivilized and culturally reprehensible.

The essay closes with an amusing anecdote in which Griffith and his friend put on masks to try to scare the neighborhood trick-or-treaters. Griffith tries to scare the kids by lying inert on the ground in some kind of "grim-reaper-like visage," but instead they go up to him and see if he's a real person by kicking him. This is probably the most powerful scene in the story, in my opinion, because the author is implicitly hinting at the fact that Griffith isn't a real person, at least not in the figurative sense. His actions have rendered him unworthy of being called a human. He is a victim of human nature, and the essay probably ends the way it does in order to tell us that we are all capable of doing what he did on that ominous Halloween night.

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