(Thy type of feminism that promotes the bipartisan battle between the sexes.)The themes of power (student vs. teacher), sexual tension between males and females, the danger and power of subjective determinations, and abuse of the right to claim sexual abuse are prominent throughout Oleanna. Carol enters John’s office feeling powerless; when she leaves, she may feel empowered, but in actuality she has claimed victim-hood and prolonged her helplessness. From Mamet’s writing, it is very difficult to make a solid case for John sexually assaulting his student. Not only do his actions not support the claim (he merely puts his arm around her because she is distressed, about to break down), but his response afterwards, at least until he beats Carol, evinces innocence and disbelief that Carol has charged him with assault. It is in fact not Carol he charges him. It is her group, enforced by the power of a lawyer, that contrives her complaint. “On behalf of my group,” she says, I will charge you with being “part of that group” (Mamet, 32). Carol is struggling with her own weakness when she comes to see John, and she is passive throughout the play; when she grabs power she becomes weaker and pathetic, despicable. She further displays her own weakness by allowing a group message to overwhelm her. She doesn’t know what she wants, and, as she says, “what I ‘feel’ is irrelevant” (Mamet, 31). (I suspect that what she wants is to belong. She sits in the back of class by herself – alone – wishing that she could understand the lecture, or even “what it means to be here” (Mamet, 24).
(The idea is that anyone can be a feminist. I may be prejudiced, but Carol's motives aren't so inclusive.) So Mamet deals with several obvious issues, but he also presents a discussion of what it means to learn and how we go about learning in our institutions of higher learning. Carol is a multiple-choice student. She doesn’t listen; she lists. She takes her notes with her everywhere, hoping that they will serve as a brain while hers is busy feeling sorry for her. Though some of John’s teaching methods seem to contradict is educational ideals, he at least sits down with Carol and wants to help her understand. He tries to soothe her fear by sharing characteristics they have in common and, in a breach of dignity, by diving her an automatic A in his class. John complains about the spout-out regurgitate-back education paradigm, which, ironically, is the very route Carol takes to indict him. It’s bizarre because during Act 1 she is too dumb to be as insidious as she later proves, but in Act 2 she’s too intelligent (although cults are influential) to be so stupid. Carol not only switches power roles with John, she takes the teacher pose as well. “We don’t ‘express’ ourselves very well,” (Mamet, 31) she says, mocking John. “We don’t say what we mean.” So how do we clarify, how do we learn what is really meant? We “consult the Report,” (ibid. 31) or we consult our lawyer, or our group; essentially, we consult the textbook. No matte how we feel, don’t bother trying to clarify communications by communicating. Find someone or something that can get you power, that immediate A, memorize it, use it, and usurp the throne. This is not learning. This is not healthy empowerment or communication. It’s pathetic.
(See how much emotion this brings up in me. Why? Is it “prejudice? An unreasoned belief” (Mamet, 21). Indeed, “when it is threatened, or opposed, [I] feel anger” (Mamet, 21). I wonder, what are these ingrained prejudices that stir up such reactivity. Are they collective, societal, imprinted in my sex? How much does my sex define the way I read this play and how much of my sex is determined by culturally defined interactions such as the ones in Oleanna?)
Johnny Lee is immeasurably more honorable than either of the figures in Oleanna. Many of his difficulties are based in his belief that he will never have to face his reality. He hopes to escape by passing the homo-multiple-choice exams his mother often forces upon him. If only he can give the appropriate response – the one that matches the cultural answer key – he will never have to actually begin working with the raw experiential material that is his difficult life. Certainly, more external and incredibly painful issues arise once he confronts his mother with his homosexuality, but opening the closet is the first step out into the light.
(Words can certainly hurt, but one must draw the line. What is to be permitted? We cannot be overly sensitive or we promote cases like Carol's.)Johnny, like Carol, like all of us, wants to belong. The desire is so strong that it nearly gets him killed by a deranged internet pedophile who traps him beneath his “hard on” in his apartment. The desire to belong nearly persuades Johnny to continue living a lie so that his family will not boot him out. He ends his story by claiming that the discrimination he experiences is not unique to the Korean community; it is ubiquitous. What he is looking for is not just a place within the gay community, not only within his family, not in New York and not amongst Koreans. He is looking for a place that he belongs within the human community. What can we all share that brings us together rather than tears us apart? As communal animals, we are driven to find solidarity. Even in America, the one does not exist without the many. Somehow, I think most people find a way to relate to Johnny’s suffering, even though most have not experienced the type or degree of discrimination he did. Commonality in suffering inspires compassion, which must be a building block for strengthening our human community.
(So true.)
No comments:
Post a Comment