Tyler Knott Gregson and "honest words leaked on simple pages"

I saw this yesterday, and wanted to share it with you all. I thought it was interesting the way this poem grapples with the same themes we are discussing in this class. (collective experience, written word's power to promote peace etc.)

This is from Tyler Knott Gregson's collection of poems Chasers of the Light.

Limited Language; Translating Trauma

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s short story “Ghosts” from her collection of short stories, The Thing Around Your Neck, calls attention to the places that language fails in narrating stories. We have wrestled with questions about Literature’s power (or, ability) to promote peace, and the use of storytelling throughout the structure of a novel as a means to communicate certain experiences related to war/trauma. I find that Adichie’s “Ghosts” is a particularly salient example of the ways in which translating traumatic memories is limited, yet still understood by various audiences. In this case, Western audiences viewing African (Nigerian) experiences. Here, both the Nigerian characters and the Western audiences are limited through the representation of events, but not in understanding the implications of such events.

The main character in this story, The Prof, is not wholly concerned with memories, but “Ghosts” from his past appear throughout the narrative. Of course, this lends itself to a discussion of the real and not real, but for the case of this argument, what is real relies solely on The Prof’s interpretation of events. Furthermore, his interpretation as it is re-presented through his telling of stories when he encounters one of the ghosts of his past, his colleague Ikenna Okoro.

Ikenna Okoro, who was thought to be dead after July 6, 1967 when The Prof and his family “saw him on the day he died” (61). Through conversation, The Prof learns that Okoro went to Sweden, but Okoro “said nothing else” and The Prof “realized that he would not tell [him] more, that he would not tell [him] how he left the campus alive or how he came to be on that plane” (63). This moment of exchange reveals the ways in which story telling is limited by personal trauma. The fact that The Prof does not push for more information reveals the arbitrary nature of the need for traumatic details for an audience to adequately fill in the blanks of a story. In other words, we are satisfied as readers to accept that something traumatic must have happened, yet we can move effortlessly through the story without those particular details present. Perhaps, we can rely on our own memories and representation of our own personal traumas, and recognize in the absence of language the critical moments of our on histories which we cannot translate, transcribe, or otherwise re-live.

Okoro is not the only character in this story that fails an attempt to represent a traumatic life event. While this story is propelled by the dialogue between two re-united colleagues, when Okoro asks The Prof, “’How is your little girl Zik?’”, The Prof’s reply comes through in Igbo, not English which dictates the rest of the conversation (64). “’The war took Zik” he says, and Adichie fills the untranslatable with a poignant declaration that The Prof cannot “[speak] of death in English [because it] has always had … a disquieting finality” (64). Examining this moment, in which The Prof speaks of his daughter’s death with a friend he believed to be dead in Adichie’s story “Ghosts” reveals a tension inherently present in the ways in which different cultures regard death, dying, trauma, and memories. While the failure to represent the trauma may at first seem to be simply a human limitation, thinking of these moments within a larger framework of narrative goals and forms, it really seems to demonstrate the limited relationship between trauma and language.

Despite these critical moments of language failure, the narrative does not lose any of its sense of cohesion or audience understanding. This limitation in language opens a conversation beyond the page, away from these characters, both within and among audiences whose own private experience allows them to navigate and understand trauma.

Adichie's "A Private Experience" Passage Analysis by Cody Tucker

"Later, Chika will learn that, as she and the woman are speaking, Hausel Muslims are hacking down Igbo Christians with machetes, clubbing them with stones" (Adichie, 44).

Adichie uses irony and a bit of tension in this passage to emphasis how strange it is for each protagonist to be having fellowship as equals amid this conflict between both of their respective groups. This story acts as a unique promotion of peace, as it focuses a moment of actual peace as opposed to emphasis on the horrors of violence. In a way, this story allows the reader to understand the backstory and depth of such conflicts using the reference to deep racism and dogma on the part of the region’s Christians and Muslims. Chika practices tolerance in this story. Her educational back-ground has allowed her to understand certain nature’s of Islam, such as praying west toward Mecca. Chika also never questions nor contradicts the woman’s beliefs. Further, the element of survival seems to come into play as both women simply wish to not be found and killed. Tolerance may be a means to an end to live through this riot. Another aspect of peace and tolerance that this story promotes is the sake of individualism. It over-rules the generalizing ‘us’ versus ‘them’ mind-set that has started many a conflict throughout the years that parallels the one found in this story. Through this story, we see that not both Christians and Muslims are not, as individuals, inherently hateful and violent (as the opponents of this story’s riot no doubt believe of their rival-faction). This story demonstrates compassion and care for a fellow human-being. Chika lends medical advice to the woman’s damaged nipple. I find this to be an excellent story to give commentary on the times that we are currently living in. This tale argues that Muslims are as empathetic and human as anyone in the western world. Not all Muslims should be so quickly associated with their extremist-minority. Chika is a representative of the western world as she bears witness to this individual Muslim that wishes to only sell onions. Chika’s education in New York has no doubt made her an intellectual citizen of the western world. The Statue of Liberty on her outfit is a perfect symbolic visual of this aspect of her character. With the coming together of this odd-couple, Adichie’s story gives peace a brief chance.      

Modernization and the Loss of Humanity (Hyatt Hammad, Blog 3)

One of the negatives of modernization is the mechanization of human interaction (such as texting as a main form of communication as opposed to speaking to someone face to face) and the ultimate loss of humanity in our everyday lives; however, when it comes to the modernization of war, humans often become more like animals rather than robots. We see some of the effects of the modernization of war in Maaza Mengiste’s novel Beneath the Lion’s Gaze. Hailu, a prominent Ethiopian doctor, is forced to care for a tortured girl and restore her health so that she can undergo more interrogation by the military. Hailu is furious when he realizes just how badly she was beaten: ‘“Did Russians train you how to do this to people?’ he asked, his chest so full of anger he was sure his voice was tight. ‘I heard these Eastern Europeans have been teaching you how to interrogate your own people’” (Mengiste 121). Even though the military promised new lives for Ethiopians without blood-shed, they have become an even worse enemy to the people with their executions and strict dictatorship, and the military is often more worried about their communist allies than the welfare of the Ethiopian people. In this case, acquiring more military supplies and modernizing warfare and torture techniques doesn’t lead to war being more civilized, but more savage instead. This modernization over the years has only led to higher death and destruction rates, such as the atomic bombs used in World War II. In times of war and revolution, people can become more barbaric and lose all sense of compassion and solidarity towards others, putting themselves and their families first. This is no different from how most solitary animals behave on a daily basis. While one could argue that while modernization usually makes people more robotic, the modernization of war, killing, and torture techniques actually makes people more animal-like, merciless, and brutal to the point where we are neither human nor animal but monsters covered in our own blood.

Beneath the Lion's Gaze

Mid way through Maaza Mengiste's "Beneath the Lions Gaze", Hailu is working in his office when Almaz urges him to check on one of his patients he seemed to be avoiding. After reflection on the experience of caring for Selam in the hospital, he offers his assistance and goes to see the young tortured girl brought in by the two soldiers. While evaluating the patient, the two begin to take a different view of her. “’She’s the same age as my Alem. God take care of my girl,’ she said as she crossed herself. ‘Has she said anything else?’ Hailu asked. He stood near the window and wondered how he didn’t recognize Selam in the girl earlier.” This conversation and personal refection between the two characters stood out to me because both Almaz and Hailu are able to see their loved ones in this character and allow themselves to do so. In most instances in the novel, Hailu’s work at the hospital seems to be a neutral place for him where he does not become connected on a personal level to those he treats. Even when Selam was sick he found it difficult to remove himself from the role of doctor and allow himself to be a sympathetic husband. Though in this instance, something is different. Hailu is not only allows himself to see his own wife in the young girl but he puts himself in her situation and considers letting her die. This is compelling because it symbolizes the promise Hailu made to Selam and gives him a second chance. Also in this moment, the personal and political come together. Neither Almaz nor Hailu know the young girl personally but they each are experiencing some form of grief from the ongoing revolution. The young girl is very clearly a victim of the revolution’s violence yet they allow her story to affect them more deeply than just treating her wounds. This scene is symbolic of the way the political violence on the outside is becoming intertwined with the personal lives of the characters leaving everyone affected by the tragedies. 

Beneath the Lion's Gaze

Nicole Gilmer

In Maaza Mengiste’s novel Beneath the Lion’s Gaze, just after the chapter in which Hailu’s wife passes away, there is a chapter focusing on the emperor. In this scene, Emperor Selassie is being held prisoner and reflecting on his life just before he was arrested. Mengiste writes: “Every minute was accounted for, every need anticipated by invisible bodies who tiptoed in and out of his presence noiselessly, their swallowed thoughts escaping only through their eyes, discernible if he’d been concerned enough to notice. But he hadn’t been. We did not see the beast, he whispered into the endless quiet punctuated only by the guard’s whistle. It stood before our eyes, but we did not see” (107, emphasis added). What I like about this is the way in which Selassie’s life pre-arrest parallels Hailu’s life pre-Revolution. While Hailu was in the hospital, he was solidly in control while the nurses and other workers worked silently in the background. Almaz was quietly respectful of Hailu and his abilities as a doctor and surgeon but he could tell by looking in her eyes what the situation truly was. Working in his hospital, it was hard for Hailu to understand the impact that the impending revolution would have on his life. Even while tensions were building, Hailu “did not see the beast”.

I think being able to compare Hailu and Selassie is important because it presents opposite views of a situation but in ways which the reader can be empathetic to. This makes it harder to put blame on either character or either side of the revolution. 

Humanizing History: Deborah Rocheleau, response to Beneath The Lion's Gaze

     The plot of Beneath the Lion’s Gaze juxtaposes national upheaval with the personal tragedy of its characters. The opening paragraph of “Part Two” exemplifies this juxtaposition by describing the passage of time in terms of both Hailu’s emotional adjustment after Selam’s death and the political changes that have overtaken revolutionary Ethiopia. Mengiste writes “He was nearly three years a widower now. He’d lived through thirty months of loneliness in a churning city. He’d grown weary in those months of jeeps and uniforms, marches and forced assemblies; his patience worn thin from the constant pressure to mold his everyday activities around a midnight curfew” (115). This passage not only moves the reader through time, but indicates that for Hailu, his personal tragedy eclipses in importance even the national upheaval of the revolution, illustrating how war affects each citizen personally.

     This passage clearly establishes the profound impact Selam’s death has on Hailu. The first sentence measures time in years not since the revolution, but since Selam’s death, indicating that for Hailu this event affects him more than any political development. It further breaks down those years into months, as if each one is a struggle against “loneliness.” Hailu’s personal tragedy further compounds this loneliness, as the loss of his wife on the eve of the revolution separates him from the rest of the population in his response to the national upheaval that follows. Rather than “churning” with revolutionary zeal like the rest of the city, Hailu feels only “weary” of the “marches and forced assemblies” and other features of life in revolutionary Ethiopia as he struggles to engage in even “everyday activities” without his beloved wife. Such concerns as adjusting to a spouse’s death may seem petty in contrast to the national upheaval of the revolution, but by focusing on one man’s personal tragedy in revolutionary Ethiopia, Mengiste illustrates how revolution affects each citizen personally. By doing so, she engages one of literature’s most unique functions: humanizing history through characterization.  

Fighting With Fear - Katharine Schlegel

A quarter way through Beneath the Lion’s Gaze, Mickey finds himself trapped in a position of power that he does not want. Mickey is being ordered to shoot the Emperor, and if he refuses, he will be shot himself. The Emperor notes the look on Mickey’s face, “The emperor didn’t understand the significance of the bloodied plastic bag the major waved in front of Mickey, but he could understand the terror that wrapped around the boy’s face. It was fear stripped naked of pretense, pure. He’d seen it in grown men only on the field, and usually it was replaced by a veil of courage that guided most to their inevitable fate” (109). This passage portrays how the Derg, and Major Guddu, control the people of Ethiopia through fear.

Since World War I, Governments have used propaganda to convince young men it is their duty to fight for their country and their honor. Soldiers have a reputation for follow orders because they trust in their government and believe in what they are fighting for; even if there are scared, they fight with bravery because they believe in a just cause. The Ethiopian soldiers are not brave men going off to war. They understand that they are replaceable. By threatening Mickey with the plastic bag, the major implies Mickey’s life is worth less than the uniform he wears. The lack of bravery in Mickey’s expression indicated he only follows orders to save his own life. Mickey shares the fear of death that grown men have on the battlefield, but is to young to fully comprehend his present situation, as well as the destruction his obedient behavior will lead to.


Katharine Schlegel

The Revolution Slinky of Pain and Anger - Sarah Britsch

After Tizita’s fall, Sara takes her to see Emama Seble for some unconventional healing.  In the process, Sara begins to feel intense pain in herself where Emama Seble presses on Tizita’s body.  In explanation of the literal physical connection of pain between Sara and Tizita, Emama Seble declared, “You’re doing this to her….  You’re suffocating the life that’s trying to grow.  You’re too angry” (102). This passage seems to be directly analogous of the revolution in its current state.  As with the connection between Sara and Tizita, the connection between the revolution and the revolutionists acts a bit like a Slinky, each fueling and reacting to the other.  Sara’s anger is the cause of Tizita’s pain, which intensifies the pain, which then deepens the anger.  In the same way, the anger of the revolutionists – which is caused by the pain in the nation – is spurring the pain in Ethiopia to even deeper levels.  The nation is attempting to grow and build on what has already been established, but the revolutionists believe their anger is justified and continue to push their cause.  In Sara’s case, she could not allow Tizita to heal until she was aware of her own anger.  In the case of the revolution, there cannot be an end to the cycle until the revolutionists collectively become aware of the pain-anger connection.  In their retaliation against the government, they are only hurting themselves, which causes them to retaliate further.  In both cases, the main concern is whether the connection can be realized and – once it is realized – those who are angry are able to back down enough to allow the other party to heal.

Durability of the Human Body and the Decision to Help End a Life

Chapter 33 is the shortest chapter in Mengiste’s novel so far. Emperor Haile Selassie has been dead for three years, and Ethiopia still struggles under the militaristic regime imposed after the emperor’s dethroning and murder. Hailu, tasked with healing a young woman, badly wounded and tortured by soldiers, is still coming to terms with the changes to his country. The young woman also, painfully, reminds Hailu of his wife, Selam, whose own death three years earlier still troubles him. As he works to heal the woman, Hailu is amazed at her body’s quick recovery, but also haunted by the fact that her return to health will be a return to the soldiers and their torture.

            “[Death] gouges and violates. Death is not in the absence and oblivion of letting go, but in the crash and tear of depravity and brutality, as electrifyingly putrid as excrement and rotting flesh. And what have I given her? What have I given her but another moment in the stink and mire of horror and noise?” (156)

The summary on the back of the book tells readers that Hailu assists “a victim of state-sanctioned torture die” and Hailu’s musings here foreshadows that this young woman is likely the victim he helps to die. As a doctor, Hailu dedicates himself to healing and preventing the deaths of others, but in this moment, his views are changing. Hailu cannot, in good conscience, fix the girl and then release her to the soldiers, only to be tortured again.

One of the major themes of the novel is the power of the human body; some bodies are fragile, unable to withstand much, but others are strong, powerful, and live beyond their expectations. As a doctor, Hailu is particularly concerned with the human body. This passage illuminates the extreme side of the spectrum, where the body is capable of enduring “the crash and tear of depravity and brutality” and rather than amazement at the durability of the girl’s body, Hailu feels horrified that he is preparing her for torture and assault once more. The shortness of chapter 33 (less than a page) indicates the quickness of his decision; Hailu can only save her (and his own conscience) from the brutality of the soldiers by helping her end her life. 

Uncaged Beast: A Passage Analysis by Victoria Carson

About a third of the way into Mengiste’s Beneath the Lion’s Gaze, we get a scene from Emperor Haile Selassie’s point of view. As he sits in his prison cell, actually an empty great hall in the Menelik Palace, he recalls his days as emperor:

“Every minute was accounted for, every need anticipated by invisible bodies who tiptoed in and out of his presence noiselessly, their swallowed thoughts escaping only through their eyes, discernible if he’d been concerned enough to notice. But he hadn’t been. We did not see the beast, he whispered into the endless quiet punctured only by the guard’s whistle. It stood before our eyes, but we did not see” (107).

This passage offers insight into Emperor Selassie’s perspective concerning the state of his country and how it got to this point. It is clear that he does not believe the revolution came out of thin air, but rather that it had been there, standing “before our eyes.” He still characterizes the revolution as a beast, something negative and that had hunted him unsuspecting, but he accepts at least a small amount of responsibility for not being “concerned enough to notice.”

At this point, Selassie does not say how he would have handled this revolutionary spirit, this beast, if he had seen it coming. However, in the very next paragraph, Selassie describes the situation of a different beast: “Even his faithful lion Tojo, who usually whined outside his window, did nothing but jump and claw at his cage” (108). What seems so striking is Selassie’s use of the words “faithful” and “cage” in the same sentence. He keeps this beast caged up and listens to its whining, yet still believes it is a faithful pet.

So when Emperor Selassie seems to regret his lack of observation of the “swallowed thoughts escaping only through [his people’s] eyes,” it is not likely that his regrets are based in a desire to have changed his leadership to fit his people’s needs. Perhaps if he had seen this beast for what it was he would have dealt with it like Tojo, listening only to its whining from the safe confines of a cage all the while telling himself it was a faithful part of his kingdom. 

The Family as a Micro Representation of the Country

Bethany Douglas

In the first chapter of Beneath the Lion's Gaze we are immediately introduced to the revolution occurring outside the hospital walls and the failing health of the doctor Hailu's wife, Selam. Further on in the novel the revolution protests and Selam's health takes a fatal turn, "The family knelt around Selam's body. Hailu reached across his wife to grab Dawit's arm and squeezed it. Their hands settled on her chest. 'She's gone,' Hailu said. He kept his focus on Yonas. 'She left us'" (106). This passage uses beautiful language to place the reader with the family at the time of their loss, but more importantly Mengiste uses language to show the strength of the family when connected around Selam which I believe is symbolic of the strength of the nation when connected around the emperor Selassie.
The emperor's reliability as a leader has been kept almost ambiguous throughout the novel, conflicting with the protestors belief that he is evil. The reader is led to have empathy for the fallen emperor and I do not believe it is a coincidence that the emperor is killed the chapter after Selam dies. The family represents a micro version of the country, with Selam as the emperor that connects them all. The difference is, of course, everyone in the family loves and cherishes Selam whereas the family has varying views on the emperor and the government, which pulls the family apart. However, in this scene the family is connected over Selam's passing, they are focused on each other as exemplified in Mengiste's word choices, "Hailu reached across his wife to grab Dawit's arm and squeezed it. Their hands settled on her chest. 'She's gone.'" When Hailu reaches across his wife to grab Dawit's arm we see the two connected in a way we haven't seen the entire book, physically and emotionally. Hailu's focus on his son Yonas also further portrays the families connection through Selam's passing. The lines "she's gone" and "she left us"represent the passing of the old way of government, the passing of the emperor, which is further portrayed in the following chapter which shows the actual death of the emperor.

Microcosm of a Country; Reactions to Government Actions in Beneath the Lion's Gaze - Jacob Nolin

Mengiste is able to show the effects of conflict on even a relaxed atmosphere. When the government issues an order asking for officials to turn themselves in, a contrast appears between the festive party and the harsh government. On Chapter 10, pg. 45, the mood shifts from a light celebration of a girl's birthday and a toast to Ethiopia to a confusing situation that could be merely symbolic or very serious. Mengiste shows the conflict specifically in the actions of the people present at the party. Kifle freezes mid-toast and doesn't think anyone's safe. Yonas and Hailu are more optimistic, trying to calm down Kifle by patting his arm and insisting that the government's actions are symbolic and that the prisoners will soon be released.

All of these actions show different responses to conflict. Kifle freezing shows that he is afraid for his own and perhaps others' lives. Yonas and Hailu dismissing the announcement show denial as they refuse to believe that the government is bad. This division of fear and denial is present in all kinds of conflicts, even when the initial conflict is not present. These mens' different reactions all show the confusing and chaotic time that they all were part of. Mengiste presenting these initial reactions in this way also implies that reactions to conflicts are very much gut reactions. All of these men respond to each other quickly and feel the need to state their opinions on the matter as soon as they come to mind. In this case they represent a microcosm, a small model of a larger system, attitudes that were shared by more than a few people but whom they all are representing. Therefore they represent the entire country at the time as it struggled to adapt to the government's changes.

War within the Walls in "Beneath the Lion's Gaze" by: Abby Booher

Mengiste’s “Beneath the Lion’s Gaze” explores conflict through her particular choice of setting. On page 122, the author notes, “There was the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, the blaring horns of traffic, and the shouts of farmers and vendors. Life outside these walls went on as always. Inside, it seemed the world had shifted off its axis and was breaking in two.” Mengiste focuses a lot on the setting of the hospital within the novel. Most of the first portion of the book takes place within the walls of the hospital which tells a lot about the world beyond the walls. The hospital stands as a metaphor for the reader.  Within its walls, it mirrors the world outside of it. At the beginning of the novel, the hospital seems to be neutral, there is no war or concerns of the revolution – only the common concerns within a hospital. Only at the end of the first chapter does it hint to the problems that will come, “The soldier glanced up as Hailu walked by, then turned his attention back to his nails” (p. 8). The revolution has little power within the hospital, though its presence begins to seep through. As time passes, the hospital walls cannot contain the war that is outside, “The curtains could not soak up all the noises coming from citizens who would soon flee into the shelter of their homes” (p. 36). By the beginning of book two, the hospital is renamed from “Prince Mekonnen Hospital” to “Black Lion Hospital”. It is only a matter of time until even the hospital – a place that is supposed to be an almost opposite of war where healing and help dwells – cannot withstand the power of war. The end of Chapter 26 reveals that a girls has been admitted to the hospital who has been tortured by the military. She is to be healed in order to be tortured yet again. This shatters the safety that once was found within the hospital walls. Shadows now shake on the lawn; the darkness and consequences of war are now bleeding into the hospital rooms. Though life outside continues in the struggle of depression from a higher power, the hospital now begins to feel the weight as well and will “[break] into two” just like the world outside did. Mengiste creatively paints the hospital as a mini-world which reveals snippets of the consequences of the world outside.

Survival Versus Moral Righteousness

Short Analysis Three: Maaza Mengiste’s Beneath the Lion’s Gaze

Debra Moreno Blouch

            In the middle of Maaza Mengiste’s Beneath the Lion’s Gaze, when Hailu is talking to Jonas about the invitation he extended to Mickey in their home for a talk, Jonas expresses his concern. Jonas is worried that Mickey will see the old, banned Ethiopian flag that Hailu has hung in the house. Jonas tells his father about the rumors of Mickey being completely obedient to Guddu and thus the reason for his promotion. This scene in the novel sets up a running theme of survival versus moral righteousness. “Hailu sat in his chair. ‘By the end of all this, who’s to say any of us will be blameless.’ His eyes were on the flag” (146). Jonas thinks that Hailu is referring to the choices that Mickey has made with regards to the new regime. Mickey has been forced to kill the emperor and his officials. He either had to kill them as Guddu has commanded or face death himself, as did Daniel. But Hailu is referring to the young woman he has been commanded to treat and save at the hospital. She has been tortured while being interrogated and is close to death. Hailu must use his medical abilities in order to keep her alive so the new regime can continue their interrogation/torture. He believes that he is not blameless, because he is participating in her torture by keeping her alive and helping her to get better for the regime’s continued abuse. This theme is also shown earlier in the novel with the takeover of the emperor because of the starvation of the rural Ethiopians versus the more monstrous new regime with Gudda. Dawit and the students are also blameful for the takeover/murder of the emperor although what they wanted was to save their fellow Ethiopians.