Friday, October 14, 2005
Essay 1
There is a scene in "Saturday" by Ian McEwan in which Daisy, the daughter of the main character Henry Perowne, returns home from Paris to visit with her family and reveal the proofs to soon-to-be published book. As Henry and his daughter catch up, the conversation soon turns to one of the anti-war protest happening in Hyde Park, one of the paramount points in the story's plot. Quickly the tone of the book turns when Daisy realizes that her father's stance on the possibly impending war, and consequently also his stance on many related political matters, differs from her anti-war pacifist's opinion. What was once a rather content and relaxing reunion soon becomes loud, heated, and bitter, as a debate evolves out of their somewhat opposing positions. Both are defending their unwavering standpoints, fighting, as Henry puts it, "over armies they will never see, about which they know almost nothing."(McEwan, 195) Both are relentless in their dogged attempts to show the other what they feel should be obvious, and their argument leaves them emotionally and mentally drained. However, on a narrative level, this altercation is very revealing, as it not only shows Henry and Daisy's political views, but also helps further establish the two characters individually and fleshes out the family dynamic between them.
The topic is initially brought up when Daisy informs her father that she stopped by the war protest in Hyde Park before arriving home. The reader is made immediately aware of Daisy's position when she announces, "But it's completely barbaric, what they're about to do. Everyone knows that." (McEwan, 190) With this statement McEwan conveys not only the strong extent to which Daisy opposes the war (thanks to the phrase "completely barbaric," as opposed to simply "wrong," or "bad"), but also her assumption of her father's position. By saying "Everyone knows that," it is a foregone conclusion to Daisy that Henry will be in complete agreement with her on the issue. So when she discovers his rather halfhearted, wait-and-see approach to the invasion, the debate is effectively started.
Instantly, it is evident that Daisy is not very well versed in political matters, hence Henry's surprise that she is instigating a dispute ("She doesn't usually talk politics, it's not one of her subjects." [McEwan, 191]). She is essentially uninformed, and thus relies on, "…everything they've both heard in the park,… everything they've both heard and read a hundred times, the worst-case guesses that become facts through repetition…" (McEwan, 191) However, her diatribe lacks effect because, by saying what they both already know and what neither of them object to, she isn't making a point, she's just reiterating accepted facts.
Basically, Daisy stuffs her argument with these listless facts and figures for legitimacy. Her argument is rooted predominantly in her pacifistic values. She makes this clear after Henry follows up her recitation of fundamental common knowledge with some genuinely political-minded insights into what may or may not happen with Saddam Hussein and Baghdad. In response, Daisy, as McEwan puts it, "…pulls away from him and faces him with a look of anxious surprise. ‘Daddy, you're not for the war, are you?'" (192) Despite his impartial proclamation that a short war could perhaps result in fewer deaths, less famine, an undamaged U.N., the only thing that Daisy dwells on is the possibility that her father may support an action that will undoubtedly result in the deaths of many innocent people.
However, what Daisy lacks in factual evidence, she more than makes up for inunderhanded insults. This begins with Henry's rationalization that in five years the war will be revealed to be either a good or bad idea, to which Daisy responds, "That's so typical... of you." (McEwan, 193) It doesn't end here, though. Before the argument is even finished, she belittles Henry's defense ("...but it's all fine because you'll be glad." [McEwan, 194]) and patronizes him because of his age ("Why is it that the few people I've met who aren't against this crappy war are all over 40? What is it about getting old? Can't get close to death soon enough?" [McEwan, 196]). At some points she isn't even attempting to refute her father's claims. It's almost as if Henry is arguing in opposition to Saddam, but Daisy is arguing in opposition to Henry. Daisy's unsubtle condescension can likely be tied all the way back to her childhood, when Daisy began assigning her father readings in a homework-like fashion. Daisy has always seen herself as intellectually and culturally superior to her father. There are examples throughout the book, such as when she advises him to reinspect his copy of "Madame Bovary," warning him, "He was warning the world against people just like you."(McEwan, 67)But now it seems to her that the unrefined mind that she had tried so hard to educate to see things her way is now in opposition to her.
Overall, Daisy's argument is an undeniably flawed one. She is thinking from a much too idealistic perspective. Her reasons for opposition are not for any direct political reason, but rather just because "[she] think[s] terrible things are going to happen," (McEwan, 193) and this is why she disregards any of her father's logic in favor of more personal, individual cases.
Henry, as opposed to Daisy, did not enter this conversation in hopes of taking part in a full-scale confrontation. In fact, he initially seems to take a stance just for the sake of having "one of their set-pieces." (McEwan, 191) When he rebuts her opening speech of well-worn statistics and theories, he is "conscious of taking a position, girding himself for combat." (McEwan, 192) At this point Henry is still euphoric over the return of his daughter, anxious to reclaim some of the normalcy of their past. Nevertheless, Henry could have easily averted this discussion at any point, but by the time the arguing is done, he is into his third glass of alcohol, which leaves him "viciously happy," (McEwan, 197) and loosened up enough to continue to battle with his daughter.
Henry's position, while inconclusive, is simple and effective: while no war is good, a short war would at least provide some sort of closure, and it may even help lessen Saddam's power. It is reasonable and understandable as the lesser of two evils. However, it is also something of a cop-out; Henry's flexibility is easily seen as indecisiveness, and as Daisy points out, it looks like he is hedging his bets. As Henry says himself, "It's true. I honestly think I could be wrong." (McEwan, 193) Fortunately, Henry, unlike Daisy, has backed his argument with legitimate and factual evidence, and uses them readily when he needs to refute one of Daisy's out-of-left-field accusations. For example, when Daisy tells her father that the "bullying greedy fools in the White House don't know what they're doing, they've no idea where they're leading us, and [she] can't believe [he's] on their side," (McEwan, 193) he dispels her belief that he wants troops on the Iraq border, and explains that when the invasion does occur, it will likely succeed and signal the end of Saddam and his reign. (McEwan, 194)
It is easy to see that Henry is much better at agitating Daisy than Daisy is with Henry. As Daisy assails him with insults and cheap shots, he doesn't let them influence his defense. But Henry clearly knows how to anger Daisy, such as when he explains that by being anti-war, her position is "effectively pro-Saddam." (McEwan, 195)
But once Henry finally does fight back in a more personal way, retaliating to Daisy's "over forty" comments, he makes some of his most impressive and true observations. Diminishing the protestors' actions as "singing and dancing in the park," he points a finger at the "iPod generation," telling her that they are just as despised as any others by the "religious Nazis." (McEwan, 197) Also, Henry manages to call Daisy's position into question when he brings up her "fellow writers in Arab jails." (McEwan, 197)
The relationship between Henry and Daisy reminds me of a part of Socrates' defense in Plato's "Apology." In "Apology," Socrates proves that he is the wisest man in the world because when he does not know or understand something, he doesn't claim otherwise, but when other supposedly wise men do not know something, they do not admit it, but rather attempt to explain it (albeit wrongly) anyway. Henry is like Socrates because he acknowledges that he does not have all the answers, and admits that he might not even be making the right choice. But Daisy, like the "wise" men, never admits the inherent flaws in her position, like the fact that nothing will change if no one attemots to stop Saddam. Henry's defense, while still flawed, is an improvement over that of Daisy. While Daisy's is a highly personal, emotional argument disguised as informational, Henry's is unbiased, reasonable, and fully accepting of the fact that neither of the two options are correct.
Personally, I see the appeal of both arguments. Obviously, a world without war would be an almost utopian turn of events, and all countries would be better for it. Unfortunately, there is no chance of such a perfect world, especially with tyrants like Saddam Hussein already in power. Since these horrible conditions already exist in the world, they must be brought to an end, and the only way for us to do that is through attack. Admittedly, much has gone wrong since the Bush administration went to war in March 2003. However, it can't be said that by not going to war, everything would have turned out right. (Kagan) It is unwise for America to be dormant and allow Saddam's
regime to act before going into action. As President Bush put it, "If we wait for threats tofully materialize, we will have waited too long." (Barry, 379) And indeed, now that Saddam has been apprehended by U.S. troops, we longer have to worry that one of the world's most vicious superpowers is causing any more unrest in his country.
Unfortunately, like Henry, I find myself in a bit of a contradiction also. Because although there has been both good and bad to come out of Iraq, time must be taken to consider the actions of other countries. See, for example, Iran. The country next to Iraq is believed to now be within a year of building their own atomic bomb, as a direct result of the war in Iraq. (Cornwell, et al, 4) Equally important is the now-diminished respect of America throughout the world. Countless countries believe that the administration manipulated and "fixed" data so that our troops would be led into war, and that this war is wrong and unjustified. (Lindbergh) These thoughts are just as important as any victories in Iraq, because they could have unforeseen consequences in the future for America. The decision to take forceful action upon another country based upon what we believe is right will always be a tricky choice. But ultimately, our actions are for the good of our country and the country involved, in this case Iraq. Regardless of the actions and judgements of any other countries, we as a country must be willing to follow through with decisions that may not initially prove beneficial, because we must prove, if only to our own citizens, that we have the best interests of the world at heart.
The topic is initially brought up when Daisy informs her father that she stopped by the war protest in Hyde Park before arriving home. The reader is made immediately aware of Daisy's position when she announces, "But it's completely barbaric, what they're about to do. Everyone knows that." (McEwan, 190) With this statement McEwan conveys not only the strong extent to which Daisy opposes the war (thanks to the phrase "completely barbaric," as opposed to simply "wrong," or "bad"), but also her assumption of her father's position. By saying "Everyone knows that," it is a foregone conclusion to Daisy that Henry will be in complete agreement with her on the issue. So when she discovers his rather halfhearted, wait-and-see approach to the invasion, the debate is effectively started.
Instantly, it is evident that Daisy is not very well versed in political matters, hence Henry's surprise that she is instigating a dispute ("She doesn't usually talk politics, it's not one of her subjects." [McEwan, 191]). She is essentially uninformed, and thus relies on, "…everything they've both heard in the park,… everything they've both heard and read a hundred times, the worst-case guesses that become facts through repetition…" (McEwan, 191) However, her diatribe lacks effect because, by saying what they both already know and what neither of them object to, she isn't making a point, she's just reiterating accepted facts.
Basically, Daisy stuffs her argument with these listless facts and figures for legitimacy. Her argument is rooted predominantly in her pacifistic values. She makes this clear after Henry follows up her recitation of fundamental common knowledge with some genuinely political-minded insights into what may or may not happen with Saddam Hussein and Baghdad. In response, Daisy, as McEwan puts it, "…pulls away from him and faces him with a look of anxious surprise. ‘Daddy, you're not for the war, are you?'" (192) Despite his impartial proclamation that a short war could perhaps result in fewer deaths, less famine, an undamaged U.N., the only thing that Daisy dwells on is the possibility that her father may support an action that will undoubtedly result in the deaths of many innocent people.
However, what Daisy lacks in factual evidence, she more than makes up for inunderhanded insults. This begins with Henry's rationalization that in five years the war will be revealed to be either a good or bad idea, to which Daisy responds, "That's so typical... of you." (McEwan, 193) It doesn't end here, though. Before the argument is even finished, she belittles Henry's defense ("...but it's all fine because you'll be glad." [McEwan, 194]) and patronizes him because of his age ("Why is it that the few people I've met who aren't against this crappy war are all over 40? What is it about getting old? Can't get close to death soon enough?" [McEwan, 196]). At some points she isn't even attempting to refute her father's claims. It's almost as if Henry is arguing in opposition to Saddam, but Daisy is arguing in opposition to Henry. Daisy's unsubtle condescension can likely be tied all the way back to her childhood, when Daisy began assigning her father readings in a homework-like fashion. Daisy has always seen herself as intellectually and culturally superior to her father. There are examples throughout the book, such as when she advises him to reinspect his copy of "Madame Bovary," warning him, "He was warning the world against people just like you."(McEwan, 67)But now it seems to her that the unrefined mind that she had tried so hard to educate to see things her way is now in opposition to her.
Overall, Daisy's argument is an undeniably flawed one. She is thinking from a much too idealistic perspective. Her reasons for opposition are not for any direct political reason, but rather just because "[she] think[s] terrible things are going to happen," (McEwan, 193) and this is why she disregards any of her father's logic in favor of more personal, individual cases.
Henry, as opposed to Daisy, did not enter this conversation in hopes of taking part in a full-scale confrontation. In fact, he initially seems to take a stance just for the sake of having "one of their set-pieces." (McEwan, 191) When he rebuts her opening speech of well-worn statistics and theories, he is "conscious of taking a position, girding himself for combat." (McEwan, 192) At this point Henry is still euphoric over the return of his daughter, anxious to reclaim some of the normalcy of their past. Nevertheless, Henry could have easily averted this discussion at any point, but by the time the arguing is done, he is into his third glass of alcohol, which leaves him "viciously happy," (McEwan, 197) and loosened up enough to continue to battle with his daughter.
Henry's position, while inconclusive, is simple and effective: while no war is good, a short war would at least provide some sort of closure, and it may even help lessen Saddam's power. It is reasonable and understandable as the lesser of two evils. However, it is also something of a cop-out; Henry's flexibility is easily seen as indecisiveness, and as Daisy points out, it looks like he is hedging his bets. As Henry says himself, "It's true. I honestly think I could be wrong." (McEwan, 193) Fortunately, Henry, unlike Daisy, has backed his argument with legitimate and factual evidence, and uses them readily when he needs to refute one of Daisy's out-of-left-field accusations. For example, when Daisy tells her father that the "bullying greedy fools in the White House don't know what they're doing, they've no idea where they're leading us, and [she] can't believe [he's] on their side," (McEwan, 193) he dispels her belief that he wants troops on the Iraq border, and explains that when the invasion does occur, it will likely succeed and signal the end of Saddam and his reign. (McEwan, 194)
It is easy to see that Henry is much better at agitating Daisy than Daisy is with Henry. As Daisy assails him with insults and cheap shots, he doesn't let them influence his defense. But Henry clearly knows how to anger Daisy, such as when he explains that by being anti-war, her position is "effectively pro-Saddam." (McEwan, 195)
But once Henry finally does fight back in a more personal way, retaliating to Daisy's "over forty" comments, he makes some of his most impressive and true observations. Diminishing the protestors' actions as "singing and dancing in the park," he points a finger at the "iPod generation," telling her that they are just as despised as any others by the "religious Nazis." (McEwan, 197) Also, Henry manages to call Daisy's position into question when he brings up her "fellow writers in Arab jails." (McEwan, 197)
The relationship between Henry and Daisy reminds me of a part of Socrates' defense in Plato's "Apology." In "Apology," Socrates proves that he is the wisest man in the world because when he does not know or understand something, he doesn't claim otherwise, but when other supposedly wise men do not know something, they do not admit it, but rather attempt to explain it (albeit wrongly) anyway. Henry is like Socrates because he acknowledges that he does not have all the answers, and admits that he might not even be making the right choice. But Daisy, like the "wise" men, never admits the inherent flaws in her position, like the fact that nothing will change if no one attemots to stop Saddam. Henry's defense, while still flawed, is an improvement over that of Daisy. While Daisy's is a highly personal, emotional argument disguised as informational, Henry's is unbiased, reasonable, and fully accepting of the fact that neither of the two options are correct.
Personally, I see the appeal of both arguments. Obviously, a world without war would be an almost utopian turn of events, and all countries would be better for it. Unfortunately, there is no chance of such a perfect world, especially with tyrants like Saddam Hussein already in power. Since these horrible conditions already exist in the world, they must be brought to an end, and the only way for us to do that is through attack. Admittedly, much has gone wrong since the Bush administration went to war in March 2003. However, it can't be said that by not going to war, everything would have turned out right. (Kagan) It is unwise for America to be dormant and allow Saddam's
regime to act before going into action. As President Bush put it, "If we wait for threats tofully materialize, we will have waited too long." (Barry, 379) And indeed, now that Saddam has been apprehended by U.S. troops, we longer have to worry that one of the world's most vicious superpowers is causing any more unrest in his country.
Unfortunately, like Henry, I find myself in a bit of a contradiction also. Because although there has been both good and bad to come out of Iraq, time must be taken to consider the actions of other countries. See, for example, Iran. The country next to Iraq is believed to now be within a year of building their own atomic bomb, as a direct result of the war in Iraq. (Cornwell, et al, 4) Equally important is the now-diminished respect of America throughout the world. Countless countries believe that the administration manipulated and "fixed" data so that our troops would be led into war, and that this war is wrong and unjustified. (Lindbergh) These thoughts are just as important as any victories in Iraq, because they could have unforeseen consequences in the future for America. The decision to take forceful action upon another country based upon what we believe is right will always be a tricky choice. But ultimately, our actions are for the good of our country and the country involved, in this case Iraq. Regardless of the actions and judgements of any other countries, we as a country must be willing to follow through with decisions that may not initially prove beneficial, because we must prove, if only to our own citizens, that we have the best interests of the world at heart.
# posted by Kevin5671 @ 11:47 AM 
