1. Have a great title.
TITLES EXERCISE
Which titles do you like best? Which ones are lacking in panache? Why?
a. ___Unmasking the Phantom: Modern Perceptions of Beauty and the Changing Image of the Phantom of the Opera
b. ___Spectacular, Spectacular: Substance and Sleight of Hand in Euripidean Tragedy
c. ___Structures of Social Class
d. ___Pink Freud: Feminist Perspectives on Psychoanalysis
e. ___Chushingura: The Timeliness of a Timeless Tale
f. ___The Origin of the Witch-Hunt: An Analysis of Arthur Miller’s Crucible and its relation to McCarthyism
g. ___Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Avant-Garde
h. ___The Swinging Sixties
i.___There is Nothing Like a Dame: The Theater of Judi Dench
j.___How Don You?”: Clothing in The Revenger’s Tragedy
k. ___Subterraneous Music: Wordsworth and Shepherding Culture
l. ___History of an Idea
m. ___Stage Fright: Modernism, Anti-Theatricality, and Drama
Titles Exercise. Try this before you submit your paper.
Write down the current title of your paper. Now, come up with three new variations:
1. The most boring version of this title you can possibly imagine.
2. The cheesiest “punny” version of this title you can possibly imagine.
3. A great alternative to the current title.
TITLES EXERCISE
Which titles do you like best? Which ones are lacking in panache? Why?
a. ___Unmasking the Phantom: Modern Perceptions of Beauty and the Changing Image of the Phantom of the Opera
b. ___Spectacular, Spectacular: Substance and Sleight of Hand in Euripidean Tragedy
c. ___Structures of Social Class
d. ___Pink Freud: Feminist Perspectives on Psychoanalysis
e. ___Chushingura: The Timeliness of a Timeless Tale
f. ___The Origin of the Witch-Hunt: An Analysis of Arthur Miller’s Crucible and its relation to McCarthyism
g. ___Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Avant-Garde
h. ___The Swinging Sixties
i.___There is Nothing Like a Dame: The Theater of Judi Dench
j.___How Don You?”: Clothing in The Revenger’s Tragedy
k. ___Subterraneous Music: Wordsworth and Shepherding Culture
l. ___History of an Idea
m. ___Stage Fright: Modernism, Anti-Theatricality, and Drama
Titles Exercise. Try this before you submit your paper.
Write down the current title of your paper. Now, come up with three new variations:
1. The most boring version of this title you can possibly imagine.
2. The cheesiest “punny” version of this title you can possibly imagine.
3. A great alternative to the current title.
2. Have a strong conclusion.
CONCLUSIONS FOR DISCUSSION
a. Conclusion to “Psychoanalysis: Protean Punditry, Perhaps? Perspectives of Lady Macbeth in Macbeth
Despite the inherent logical fallacies of psychoanalysis, we must remember that this has been (and in some circles continues to be) a highly influential tool for literary criticism. Because it controversially addresses traditionally taboo subjects (primarily sexuality) with bold (and often unsubstantiated) claims, and with a record spanning over a century, there continue to be numerous engaging and intriguing avenues of historical inquiry to pursue in the field of psychoanalysis. For example, the psychological influence of gender norms, which hampered early critics (like Montagu), may be evident in these psychoanalytic critics as well; it may be fascinating to examine how standards of proof in the pseudoscientific field of psychoanalysis vary historically by gender. Is psychoanalytic criticism of, say, Hamlet as varying in logic and deductions as that on Lady Macbeth? Nevertheless, it is evident that the frailties of the psychoanalytic method provide some insight into the world where it was born; yet, because of the wildly contradictory conclusions it can postulate, can psychoanalysis be considered a legitimate tool for character interpretation? No, all in all, it’s a poor choice.
b. Conclusion to “Unadulterated Adultery: Fitzgerald Variations on the Novel of Adultery”
Tender is the Night, usually considered a psychological novel, on closer look seems more like a novel of adultery. Similar mechanisms for revealing the effects of adultery, such as the examination of the role of the children and the state of the marriage contract, surface in both the canonical novel of adultery and Tender is the Night. It is an adulterated novel of adultery, tinged with emotional condemnation rather than purely objective judgment, and it highlights male adultery as opposed to female adultery. Fitzgerald, instead of driving home a moral, seems rather to explain life as it is, without shying away from the gritty details, and offer some sort of reason for events. The accusations and emotions within the novel do not spring purely from a sense of right and wrong and sin and virtue, but also from personal and very real sources. Infusing the novel with biographical background allows for a grounding of the theme in something close-to-life. Fitzgerald, with Tender is the Night, transforms the genre of the novel of adultery into a reflection of life, making it closer to the truth of adultery than the imagined ideal.
c. Conclusion to “Unmasking the Phantom: Modern Perceptions of Beauty and the Changing Image of The Phantom of the Opera”
The Phantom of the Opera and indeed all works of art are not immune for the tides of culture. Sexuality and perceptions of beauty in the twenty-first century has changed story of a misshapen monster into romantic drama of misunderstood man. In particular the mask the Phantom has changed over time to increase his sexual appeal and compliment the musical qualities of Webber’s adaptation. Though Leroux started on the premise of making Erik a man rather than an actual phantom, Webber realizes this by making him a character of charisma and charm: a lover rather than a lowly man. The lover is more acceptable and identifiable today than the Marxist image of the Phantom that Leroux presents. Though the common man triumphing over his oppressors may have been more identifiable in early twentieth century France, today the image does not hold as well. With constant pressures to succeed, be beautiful and make money, the story has come to reflect the attitudes of the modern day. The character of “Erik,” which Leroux wrote about and Lon Chaney portrayed almost one hundred year ago, are not dead but the theme’s he represented have morphed to fit and be accepted in the today’s “sexy-is-better” mentality.
d. Conclusion to “Spectacular, Spectacular: Substance and Sleight of Hand in Euripidean Tragedy”
Unmanaged spectacle is therefore detrimental to Euripidean tragedy. Despite frequent critical praise, overused spectacle and innovation detract from the art of the plot, preventing the audience from connecting with the story and feeling the investment necessary for any true satisfaction. As Euripides attempted to “improve” on Sophocles’ carefully crafted tragedies with dragon-pulled chariots, so modern filmmakers like Von Trier “improve” traditional camera techniques by over-emphasising cinematography instead of allowing the power of the film to grow from the story itself. Plot, we have discovered, is the very art of tragedy. If spectacle is the visual declaration that tragedy is not life but art, the artist must therefore use it subtly, enhancing, not concealing, the art of the plot.
What strategies does the writer employ in this conclusion?
How could the writer revise to build a stronger conclusion?
Based on reading the conclusion alone, do your best to answer the following question: what was the writer’s argument in this paper?
CONCLUSIONS FOR DISCUSSION
a. Conclusion to “Psychoanalysis: Protean Punditry, Perhaps? Perspectives of Lady Macbeth in Macbeth
Despite the inherent logical fallacies of psychoanalysis, we must remember that this has been (and in some circles continues to be) a highly influential tool for literary criticism. Because it controversially addresses traditionally taboo subjects (primarily sexuality) with bold (and often unsubstantiated) claims, and with a record spanning over a century, there continue to be numerous engaging and intriguing avenues of historical inquiry to pursue in the field of psychoanalysis. For example, the psychological influence of gender norms, which hampered early critics (like Montagu), may be evident in these psychoanalytic critics as well; it may be fascinating to examine how standards of proof in the pseudoscientific field of psychoanalysis vary historically by gender. Is psychoanalytic criticism of, say, Hamlet as varying in logic and deductions as that on Lady Macbeth? Nevertheless, it is evident that the frailties of the psychoanalytic method provide some insight into the world where it was born; yet, because of the wildly contradictory conclusions it can postulate, can psychoanalysis be considered a legitimate tool for character interpretation? No, all in all, it’s a poor choice.
b. Conclusion to “Unadulterated Adultery: Fitzgerald Variations on the Novel of Adultery”
Tender is the Night, usually considered a psychological novel, on closer look seems more like a novel of adultery. Similar mechanisms for revealing the effects of adultery, such as the examination of the role of the children and the state of the marriage contract, surface in both the canonical novel of adultery and Tender is the Night. It is an adulterated novel of adultery, tinged with emotional condemnation rather than purely objective judgment, and it highlights male adultery as opposed to female adultery. Fitzgerald, instead of driving home a moral, seems rather to explain life as it is, without shying away from the gritty details, and offer some sort of reason for events. The accusations and emotions within the novel do not spring purely from a sense of right and wrong and sin and virtue, but also from personal and very real sources. Infusing the novel with biographical background allows for a grounding of the theme in something close-to-life. Fitzgerald, with Tender is the Night, transforms the genre of the novel of adultery into a reflection of life, making it closer to the truth of adultery than the imagined ideal.
c. Conclusion to “Unmasking the Phantom: Modern Perceptions of Beauty and the Changing Image of The Phantom of the Opera”
The Phantom of the Opera and indeed all works of art are not immune for the tides of culture. Sexuality and perceptions of beauty in the twenty-first century has changed story of a misshapen monster into romantic drama of misunderstood man. In particular the mask the Phantom has changed over time to increase his sexual appeal and compliment the musical qualities of Webber’s adaptation. Though Leroux started on the premise of making Erik a man rather than an actual phantom, Webber realizes this by making him a character of charisma and charm: a lover rather than a lowly man. The lover is more acceptable and identifiable today than the Marxist image of the Phantom that Leroux presents. Though the common man triumphing over his oppressors may have been more identifiable in early twentieth century France, today the image does not hold as well. With constant pressures to succeed, be beautiful and make money, the story has come to reflect the attitudes of the modern day. The character of “Erik,” which Leroux wrote about and Lon Chaney portrayed almost one hundred year ago, are not dead but the theme’s he represented have morphed to fit and be accepted in the today’s “sexy-is-better” mentality.
d. Conclusion to “Spectacular, Spectacular: Substance and Sleight of Hand in Euripidean Tragedy”
Unmanaged spectacle is therefore detrimental to Euripidean tragedy. Despite frequent critical praise, overused spectacle and innovation detract from the art of the plot, preventing the audience from connecting with the story and feeling the investment necessary for any true satisfaction. As Euripides attempted to “improve” on Sophocles’ carefully crafted tragedies with dragon-pulled chariots, so modern filmmakers like Von Trier “improve” traditional camera techniques by over-emphasising cinematography instead of allowing the power of the film to grow from the story itself. Plot, we have discovered, is the very art of tragedy. If spectacle is the visual declaration that tragedy is not life but art, the artist must therefore use it subtly, enhancing, not concealing, the art of the plot.
What strategies does the writer employ in this conclusion?
How could the writer revise to build a stronger conclusion?
Based on reading the conclusion alone, do your best to answer the following question: what was the writer’s argument in this paper?
3. Find evidence for your claims (lots of it!) and share it with your reader. Here is an example from Diven Faron's essay "The Chorus as a Character" of strong use of evidence to back up claims.
Nietzsche and Moraga both emphasize this relationship between the chorus, the characters and the plot. As Nietzsche says, “the chorus utters oracles and wise sayings: as fellow-sufferer it is at the same time the sage who proclaims truth from out the heart of Nature” (346). The chorus of The Hungry Woman does both of these things. There is an overall feeling of bitterness within every character in the play, so that even though Medea is the person contained in the psychiatric ward, we still feel as if the Nurse and the Prison Guard are just as miserable with their lot in life. They suffer differently than Medea, but all three are suffering together in the dystopian world that Moraga creates. The Nurse still acts as an advice giver though, or “sage” as Nietzsche puts it. This is shown during a conversation between the Nurse and Medea about Luna. After Medea admits to missing Luna, the Nurse asks her why she never tells Luna this; observing that Medea never talks to Luna, and that she should let Luna know she misses her (12). Another example of the chorus functioning as fellow-sufferer as well as advice giver is Chac-Mool's conversation with the tattoo artist. Like the other characters, the Tattoo Artist has a bitter tone, alluding to the misery of the setting, but still tries to make Chac-Mool think differently, “You think that's what you're doing, praying? You think this is holy, driving needles into the paper of the flesh? Hanging metal off your eyebrows, your nostrils, your lips?” The advice is not outrightly given to Chac-Mool, but the Tattoo Artist is trying to make Chac-Mool see his actions they way he sees it, the way that the audience sees it, embodying the full function of the chorus in that one line: Advice, fellow-suffering, the creator of dialogue, and the barrier between the audience and the world of the tragedy. The greatest example of this comes from the dialogue between the Border Guard and Chac-Mool. As the Border Guard says, “Think of me as your revolutionary conscience, the mirror to that elegant Yaqui body of yours, inside and out” he makes himself one with the main character, in this case, Chac-Mool, while at the same time separating the chorus from the main character by giving the advice that the main character craves and needs (78). We get a sense of the communal suffering when the Border Guard tells Chac-Mool he doesn't have a country himself, which is the source of Medea's pain in all of its adaptations (78). This feeling of displacement is a main cause of the misery for all of the characters in The Hungry Woman.
Nietzsche and Moraga both emphasize this relationship between the chorus, the characters and the plot. As Nietzsche says, “the chorus utters oracles and wise sayings: as fellow-sufferer it is at the same time the sage who proclaims truth from out the heart of Nature” (346). The chorus of The Hungry Woman does both of these things. There is an overall feeling of bitterness within every character in the play, so that even though Medea is the person contained in the psychiatric ward, we still feel as if the Nurse and the Prison Guard are just as miserable with their lot in life. They suffer differently than Medea, but all three are suffering together in the dystopian world that Moraga creates. The Nurse still acts as an advice giver though, or “sage” as Nietzsche puts it. This is shown during a conversation between the Nurse and Medea about Luna. After Medea admits to missing Luna, the Nurse asks her why she never tells Luna this; observing that Medea never talks to Luna, and that she should let Luna know she misses her (12). Another example of the chorus functioning as fellow-sufferer as well as advice giver is Chac-Mool's conversation with the tattoo artist. Like the other characters, the Tattoo Artist has a bitter tone, alluding to the misery of the setting, but still tries to make Chac-Mool think differently, “You think that's what you're doing, praying? You think this is holy, driving needles into the paper of the flesh? Hanging metal off your eyebrows, your nostrils, your lips?” The advice is not outrightly given to Chac-Mool, but the Tattoo Artist is trying to make Chac-Mool see his actions they way he sees it, the way that the audience sees it, embodying the full function of the chorus in that one line: Advice, fellow-suffering, the creator of dialogue, and the barrier between the audience and the world of the tragedy. The greatest example of this comes from the dialogue between the Border Guard and Chac-Mool. As the Border Guard says, “Think of me as your revolutionary conscience, the mirror to that elegant Yaqui body of yours, inside and out” he makes himself one with the main character, in this case, Chac-Mool, while at the same time separating the chorus from the main character by giving the advice that the main character craves and needs (78). We get a sense of the communal suffering when the Border Guard tells Chac-Mool he doesn't have a country himself, which is the source of Medea's pain in all of its adaptations (78). This feeling of displacement is a main cause of the misery for all of the characters in The Hungry Woman.
4. Once you have found your evidence, ANALYZE IT! Analysis really just means sticking with it. Go deeper. Interpret. Draw out implications. Here is an example from Estella Aviles' essay "Escapism in Cherrie Moraga's The Hungry Woman" of how to build an interpretation out of the evidence you have collected.
Medea’s form of escape changes throughout the play. Before her exile, it takes the form of the newborn Chac-Mool (then Aldolfo). As a young mother, Medea becomes completely absorbed in her child. She states that “After the war…before Chac-Mool, I felt completely naked in the world. No child…to clothe the invading lack of purpose in my life” (Moraga 54). Chac-Mool provided just the solution Medea needed, and this escape takes a decidedly Dionysian form from the start. This is evidenced by Medea’s own words when she describes the experience as “a ring of pure animal need taking hold of me” (Moraga 31). Just as Nietzsche described, it is primitive, potent, and self-forgetting. This relationship causes severe problems between Medea and her husband Jasón. However, we are led to suspect from the dialogue between her and Jasón throughout the play that their relationship was far from perfect to begin with. At one point Jasón even admits to having felt tricked into the marriage (Moraga 68). It is less surprising, then, that the comfort Medea’s obsession with her son gives her is enough that she does not care whether her marriage is strained as a result. This comfort lessens, however, when Chac-Mool stops breastfeeding (Moraga 31), and soon enough Medea requires a new solution. This may have been what led her to seek a relationship with Luna. Though Moraga intentionally leaves the nature of their relationship uncertain, this would be consistent with Medea’s character. It may well be that the places she makes her escape are their own rebellions against a marriage she is unhappy in. This would also explain why after Jasón discovers her affair and she is exiled Medea finds another escape, this one taking the form of alcohol (Moraga 14-19). The relationship between Medea and Luna is different at this point, and while she may love Luna, Luna is no longer an escape but a living, breathing reminder of reality, of Medea’s outcast social status and terrible living situation. Luna is no longer a rebellion against Medea’s husband, because Medea has no husband (technically they are still married, but are living in different cities with new partners). And so, Medea retreats into alcoholism. Like her previous escapes, she throws herself entirely into it and becomes a woman who “can’t stand the relentless sun” or “the brilliant productiveness of day” (Moraga 20). She shuts herself away during the daytime hours and comes to life only at night, often needing the numbing effect of tequila even for that. A trend we may notice in Medea’s approach to escapism is that regardless of what her escape is at any given moment, it is not done in moderation. It is something that consumes her; that remains with her night and day and prevents her from ever looking at the world with fully opened eyes. In other words, she allows her Dionysian qualities to control her.
Chac-Mool is an even stronger example of the Dionysian nature of escapism. Given that he has grown up in a ghetto with an unstable parent and no prospects for a better future, it is hardly surprising that he would follow in his mother’s footsteps in this area. Moraga gives us insight into the nature of Chac-Mool’s escape in the conversation he has with the tattoo artist in scene three. During this exchange, Chac-Mool describes the way he has learned to escape from everything around him by closing his eyes. He pretends he is asleep, and explains how when he is asleep “[he] can dream anything [he] want[s]” (Moraga, 19). In other words, he can reject the world around him and retreat into a world of his own. This other world is filled with beauty, with colors and the moon in the night sky (Moraga, 19-20). But in keeping with our Dionysian definition, this world is also composed of suffering. Chac-Mool makes use of physical pain to attain the Dionysian loss of self and oneness with humanity. He uses the pain to pray, and by accessing his spiritual side in the midst of pain he is able to connect with the rest of the world and no longer feel alone (Moraga, 21). He has developed an alternate reality consisting of the overlapping elements of beauty and pain, and both serve an important purpose. His reflections on the beauty of nature allow him to have a life filled with more than the harshness of the ghetto. The pain, by allowing him to feel connected in a world where he is ostracized from society, keeps him from becoming jaded, like his mother. Escapism is a coping device for Chac-Mool, just as it is for Medea.
An ability to cope is not, however, the only effect escapism has. It is also allows the characters to face their situations and act to change them. For example, Medea’s escapes of Chac-Mool and Luna allow her to express her unhappiness with her husband. They are empowering, allowing her to strike back in a situation where she would otherwise be powerless. Her alcoholism may be unhealthy, but without it she seems incapable of getting out of bed, leaving us with the uncomfortable suspicion that it is at some level helping her. But could Moraga really be advocating using other people as a way to retaliate against those one is unhappy with, or using alcohol as a crutch to function? We can find the answer to this question by contrasting Medea’s escapes and their effects with those of Chac-Mool.
Chac-Mool’s version of escapism is not founded in other people but in more abstract places like nature, prayer, and pain. Though his fixation on pain is nothing short of worrying, the fact that he does not force others to become his escape makes his approach much healthier than his mother’s. By instead losing himself in nature, Chac-Mool is able to see people as they are and love them without becoming lost in them, as Medea does. In addition, the beauty he sees in nature and the connectedness he feels in prayer and pain allow him to view his own life as containing beauty and connectedness, as well. He is able to bring the world of his escape into reality, merging the two and thus becoming a person who sees things as they are but still finds hope and beauty in his life. This is what ultimately allows him to leave Phoenix and pursue a better life in Aztlán. His escape has given him both hope for a better life and the courage to pursue it, despite his long hesitation and his mother’s discouragement. He does so with an incredible amount of emotional maturity: admitting that he misses his mother terribly, that he loves both her and Luna, but that he cannot stay in the ghetto when there is a chance he could have something better by living with his father. This is a stark contrast to Medea, who, by making the people in her life her escape, denies them of their individuality and refuses to let them grow, eventually leading her to poison her own child when he changes too much for her liking. Moraga makes it clear by each character’s actions that Chac-Mool has the better approach.
Medea’s form of escape changes throughout the play. Before her exile, it takes the form of the newborn Chac-Mool (then Aldolfo). As a young mother, Medea becomes completely absorbed in her child. She states that “After the war…before Chac-Mool, I felt completely naked in the world. No child…to clothe the invading lack of purpose in my life” (Moraga 54). Chac-Mool provided just the solution Medea needed, and this escape takes a decidedly Dionysian form from the start. This is evidenced by Medea’s own words when she describes the experience as “a ring of pure animal need taking hold of me” (Moraga 31). Just as Nietzsche described, it is primitive, potent, and self-forgetting. This relationship causes severe problems between Medea and her husband Jasón. However, we are led to suspect from the dialogue between her and Jasón throughout the play that their relationship was far from perfect to begin with. At one point Jasón even admits to having felt tricked into the marriage (Moraga 68). It is less surprising, then, that the comfort Medea’s obsession with her son gives her is enough that she does not care whether her marriage is strained as a result. This comfort lessens, however, when Chac-Mool stops breastfeeding (Moraga 31), and soon enough Medea requires a new solution. This may have been what led her to seek a relationship with Luna. Though Moraga intentionally leaves the nature of their relationship uncertain, this would be consistent with Medea’s character. It may well be that the places she makes her escape are their own rebellions against a marriage she is unhappy in. This would also explain why after Jasón discovers her affair and she is exiled Medea finds another escape, this one taking the form of alcohol (Moraga 14-19). The relationship between Medea and Luna is different at this point, and while she may love Luna, Luna is no longer an escape but a living, breathing reminder of reality, of Medea’s outcast social status and terrible living situation. Luna is no longer a rebellion against Medea’s husband, because Medea has no husband (technically they are still married, but are living in different cities with new partners). And so, Medea retreats into alcoholism. Like her previous escapes, she throws herself entirely into it and becomes a woman who “can’t stand the relentless sun” or “the brilliant productiveness of day” (Moraga 20). She shuts herself away during the daytime hours and comes to life only at night, often needing the numbing effect of tequila even for that. A trend we may notice in Medea’s approach to escapism is that regardless of what her escape is at any given moment, it is not done in moderation. It is something that consumes her; that remains with her night and day and prevents her from ever looking at the world with fully opened eyes. In other words, she allows her Dionysian qualities to control her.
Chac-Mool is an even stronger example of the Dionysian nature of escapism. Given that he has grown up in a ghetto with an unstable parent and no prospects for a better future, it is hardly surprising that he would follow in his mother’s footsteps in this area. Moraga gives us insight into the nature of Chac-Mool’s escape in the conversation he has with the tattoo artist in scene three. During this exchange, Chac-Mool describes the way he has learned to escape from everything around him by closing his eyes. He pretends he is asleep, and explains how when he is asleep “[he] can dream anything [he] want[s]” (Moraga, 19). In other words, he can reject the world around him and retreat into a world of his own. This other world is filled with beauty, with colors and the moon in the night sky (Moraga, 19-20). But in keeping with our Dionysian definition, this world is also composed of suffering. Chac-Mool makes use of physical pain to attain the Dionysian loss of self and oneness with humanity. He uses the pain to pray, and by accessing his spiritual side in the midst of pain he is able to connect with the rest of the world and no longer feel alone (Moraga, 21). He has developed an alternate reality consisting of the overlapping elements of beauty and pain, and both serve an important purpose. His reflections on the beauty of nature allow him to have a life filled with more than the harshness of the ghetto. The pain, by allowing him to feel connected in a world where he is ostracized from society, keeps him from becoming jaded, like his mother. Escapism is a coping device for Chac-Mool, just as it is for Medea.
An ability to cope is not, however, the only effect escapism has. It is also allows the characters to face their situations and act to change them. For example, Medea’s escapes of Chac-Mool and Luna allow her to express her unhappiness with her husband. They are empowering, allowing her to strike back in a situation where she would otherwise be powerless. Her alcoholism may be unhealthy, but without it she seems incapable of getting out of bed, leaving us with the uncomfortable suspicion that it is at some level helping her. But could Moraga really be advocating using other people as a way to retaliate against those one is unhappy with, or using alcohol as a crutch to function? We can find the answer to this question by contrasting Medea’s escapes and their effects with those of Chac-Mool.
Chac-Mool’s version of escapism is not founded in other people but in more abstract places like nature, prayer, and pain. Though his fixation on pain is nothing short of worrying, the fact that he does not force others to become his escape makes his approach much healthier than his mother’s. By instead losing himself in nature, Chac-Mool is able to see people as they are and love them without becoming lost in them, as Medea does. In addition, the beauty he sees in nature and the connectedness he feels in prayer and pain allow him to view his own life as containing beauty and connectedness, as well. He is able to bring the world of his escape into reality, merging the two and thus becoming a person who sees things as they are but still finds hope and beauty in his life. This is what ultimately allows him to leave Phoenix and pursue a better life in Aztlán. His escape has given him both hope for a better life and the courage to pursue it, despite his long hesitation and his mother’s discouragement. He does so with an incredible amount of emotional maturity: admitting that he misses his mother terribly, that he loves both her and Luna, but that he cannot stay in the ghetto when there is a chance he could have something better by living with his father. This is a stark contrast to Medea, who, by making the people in her life her escape, denies them of their individuality and refuses to let them grow, eventually leading her to poison her own child when he changes too much for her liking. Moraga makes it clear by each character’s actions that Chac-Mool has the better approach.
5. Avoid sentence fragments and comma splices.
