Julia

I just recently reread Mrs. Dalloway; I have yet to read The Voyage Out but I plan to in the near future. This article reminded me of a quotation from A Room of One’s Own: “women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size.”

This is an intriguing analysis. Your point that “the audience is ahead of other characters along with Walter, so they feel just as intelligent” particularly stood out to me. I tend to think that the key factor in whether a viewer will root for a given character is the degree to which they are able (and willing) to identify with that character. In Breaking Bad, much of the story is focalized through Walter’s perspective, so naturally we as an audience are made to understand the motivations and desires that influence his actions throughout the series, morally reprehensible though they may be. For instance, in the pilot episode alone we are given a clear portrayal of a man who is brilliant, has a family he loves, but has failed to live up to his potential and feels that he has ended up clutching the short end of the stick. In short, Walter starts out as an underdog. I would argue that the pervasive popularity of his character is a testament to our automatic, unconscious tendency to compartmentalize: emotional attachment to/identification with a character can override our disapproval of immoral behavior we would otherwise condemn. Ironically, our ability to empathize with Walter dulls our reaction to the damage he does.

I haven’t read Infinte Jest or any of David Foster Wallace’s other work, but this article has definitely piqued my interest. I’m looking forward to seeing this film. Paradoxically, loneliness and isolation seem to be among the most universally relatable themes in film and literature.

Thank you for this article! I really needed to read this right now. The biggest factor that holds me back from writing is always my own fear and self-doubt. I feel self-conscious of my writing even when I’m the only one reading it. The best thing to do is not to censor yourself at all (however tempting it may be) and just keep writing until you get yourself unstuck.

This article does an excellent job of cutting to the core of the issue. While I haven’t watched season 5 of Game of Thrones (largely in protest of the gratuitous sexual violence), generally speaking I think it’s helpful to consider what function a given rape scene is performing in the context of the narrative. What is the utility of the scene? Is it contributing in an essential way to the progression of the plot? Is it playing a role in character development? Or has it simply been inserted for shock value? It’s clear that Cersei’s rape scene is useless and unjustifiable. I’ve seen people argue that the inclusion of Sansa’s rape is justified because raping Sansa is in keeping with Ramsay’s character. Of course, the point here is that we already know that Ramsay is brutal and sadistic. Does the scene teach us anything new about the characters involved?