Monday, February 7, 2022

Petruchio's Unrelenting Love

 

            In Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, is Petruchio's wooing of Katherine not an image of unrelenting love?  He refuses to see the bad in her words and deeds and imagines in them great good.  Even as she wishes his death, he speaks and acts as if she only loves and adores him.  He will not hide from her what others say of her, but he will not join with them; rather, he repudiates what they say, even as we see how true it all is.

            Yet, he is as rough with her as she is with him.  He confronts her with force for force, but it is so deftly handled as only to serve to undermine further all her attempts to rebuff him.  When she slaps him, he does not act shocked, but merely threatens to respond in kind; yet he never does, for she is so shocked by his response that it provokes not more violence, but a further war of words, where he is ever able to hold his own, partly because nothing she says fazes him.

            Is this not the power of love?  Not only have many men no doubt won a woman's heart in this way, but it is also how God wins us.  Slowly, steadily, he shows us love—sometimes very tough love—until we come to love him.

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Of ‘Bots and Bowmen

Another Example Essay for my students, composed, as the date would suggest, several years ago.  The basic principle of connection, however, is still valid.  Let this substitute for the essay I never published in January.  I did not publish this then, only because I thought I had posted it already.

Brent Oliver

Dr. Guilds

Film Studies

4 February2011

Of ‘Bots and Bowmen

Here is a short note to remind us to keep looking for the patterns, because, it's all connected.

I was recently watching my favorite science fiction television series, Dollhouse (the imminent demise of which merely illustrates the principle that by the logic of television and its need to appeal to the masses, bad writing tends to drive out the good), where a character noted that "Rossum," the name of the corporation that runs the Dollhouses, comes from "an old play."  Of course! I said, only then remembering R.U.R.: Rossum's Universal Robots, the play (published 1920, performed 1921) by Karel Čapek, the work that gave us the word "robot."

The "robots" of "R.U.R.," however, were not mechanical; rather, they were artificially manufactured humans used as slaves (the word "robot" comes from the Slavic robota, meaning "work").  They thus resemble the dolls in the Dollhouse more than they do traditional robots.

Anytime I think of Čapek's work, I also remember another writer: Isaac Asimov.  Just as Čapek gave us the word "robot" in a work performed in 1921, it was in 1942 that Asimov coined the word "robotics" in the short story “Runaround,” the story that also introduced his famous "Three Laws of Robotics."

Those three laws embodied Asimov's simple philosophy that robots are tools, and like any good tools, would be made with the proper safety measures built-in.  Asimov's stories were so influential that they essentially ended the "rogue robot" trope that had dominated tales of artificial men previously (case in point, Čapek's robots) and gave us the vision much more common today of robot-as-helper.

The ultimate tribute to Asimov's influence came in 1987, when the Android Lt. Commander Data in the new Star Trek series, Star Trek: the Next Generation was given a "positronic brain."  All Asimov's robots had such brains (he said he came up with the idea because invoking the newly discovered positron made the technology sound exotic), and Data's positronic brain was a tip-of-the-hat to one of the most influential writers of the twentieth century.

Given all this, I was very pleased when I found another allusion to one of science fiction's grandmasters hidden in the last of the Star Trek series, Enterprise.  For if any one man deserves to stand alongside Asimov in his contribution to science fiction, it is Arthur C.Clarke, who made another major contribution to our collective image of the artificial man and the artificial mind when he and Stanley Kubrick made 2001: A Space Odyssey and introduced the world to HAL 9000.

Few would notice that that movie's protagonist, David Bowman, is named in honor of the central figure of another, much earlier Odyssey, Odysseus, king of Ithaca (in fact, the very term "Odyssey" quite obviously derives from his name); for when he finally returns home at the end of that great poem, it is through his skill with a bow that Odysseus proves his identity.

Years later, when the very first captain of a starship named Enterprise stepped on the bridge, his name was Jonathan Archer.  That he was named in honor of David Bowman is easily seen, for "archer" is simply a synonym for "bowman"; and as for Jonathan...well, we recall that, in addition to Ithaca's king, David Bowman was also named after the king of Israel, and that king had a friend; as it is written: "the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul" (I Samuel 18:1).