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D.R. Ranshaw

D.R. RANSHAW

The Face of Villainy

6/26/2017

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The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of a gun.
                -P.G. Wodehouse
 
Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they’re in the game.
                -Paul Rodriguez
 
I saw these quotes on Twitter recently, and instantly thought of General Zaroff. For the two or three of you who didn’t read his tale in high school, let me elaborate: General Zaroff is the urbanely diabolical antagonist in The Most Dangerous Game by American author Richard Connell. I think just about everyone reads this short story in school, because even if it’s ancient by student reckoning, it has a lot to say about human nature that’s just as relevant today as it was when published in 1924.
 
The protagonist is Sanger Rainsford, a big-game hunter on a yacht in the Caribbean, en route to South America to hunt jaguars with a friend, and he’s blithely dismissive of what we now call animal rights: “Who cares about how a jaguar feels?... They’ve no understanding... Be a realist... the world is made up of two classes --- the hunters and the hunted. Luckily, you and I are hunters.”
 
Nowadays, I think, most of us understand that such arrogance is only asking for trouble or tempting fate. But Rainsford doesn’t, so he’s about to be made aware, in the most vivid way imaginable, of his hubris: forced to switch places and become the hunted, he’ll see things from the jaguar’s point of view.
 
Alone, Rainsford later accidentally falls overboard and, hearing a pistol shot, swims toward it. He comes ashore on a tropical island, deserted but for a palatial chateau, which turns out to be General Zaroff’s residence. The General has one servant, a Schwarzeneggar-like deaf-mute named Ivan. Aware of Rainsford’s fame as a hunter, Zaroff is ecstatic to see him, explaining that hunting is his life. A wealthy Russian, Zaroff owns the island and spends his days there, hunting, and In the course of his tale, casually reveals he’s gotten tired of hunting animals because they’re no challenge: he’s the perfect hunter, and they can’t reason. So he’s had to bring in an animal that does:
 
                “But no animal can reason,’ objected Rainsford.
                “My dear fellow,” said the general, “there is one that can.”
                “But you can’t mean---” gasped Rainsford.
                “And why not?”
                “I can’t believe you are serious, General Zaroff. This is a grisly joke.”
                “Why should I not be serious? I am speaking of hunting.”
                “Hunting? Good God, General Zaroff, what you speak of is murder.”
                The general laughed with entire good humour. He regarded Rainsford quizzically. “I refuse to believe that so modern and civilized a young man as you seem to be harbours romantic ideas about the value of human life.”
 
Huh? Ah, there we come to the crux of it: the General’s chillingly amoral worldview:
 
                “Life is for the strong, to be lived by the strong, and, if needs be, taken by the strong. The weak of the world were put here to give the strong pleasure. I am strong. Why should I not use my gift? If I wish to hunt, why should I not?”
 
And when Rainsford refuses to subscribe to Zaroff’s twisted philosophy, the General winds up hunting Rainsford across the island. Without giving away the climax, you can bet by story’s end Rainsford will be a lot more empathetic with the animals he’s hitherto hunted.
 
So. General Zaroff. Yikes. How does humanity come up with these types? Because the General is not an unrealistic villain. Oh, no, quite the contrary. He’s all too realistic. There really are people out there like him. And Connell, don’t forget, was writing this story well in advance of the Second World War.
 
However, as a literary villain, Zaroff makes a remarkable villain, for four reasons:
 
First, he’s blatantly candid about why he does what he does. He makes no effort to sugarcoat or dissemble about his hobby, and he doesn’t use euphemisms. It is what it is: he hunts people. And we’re not playing touch football here, people.
 
Second, he makes no attempt to foist his outlook off on an unhappy childhood, or abusive parents, or anything like that. He’s no tortured soul, no Norman Bates out to somehow get back at his mommy. He’s actually very happy doing what he does, thanks very much.
 
Third, his worldview is utterly chilling in its lack of morality, which is morbidly fascinating (from a safe distance, anyway) and leads us to question how someone could come to such a philosophy. Zaroff is not insane: rather, he’s pure psychopath --- long before Hannibal Lecter came on the scene.
 
Finally, Connell goes to great pains portraying the General as such an otherwise civilized, sophisticated person. It’s an amazingly ironic contrast. Zaroff appreciates fine wines and good food, his tastes in clothing and literature and music are impeccable --- in short, he’s a charming, sophisticated cosmopolite --- except for that one little thing, which he doesn’t even regard as a thing. No, no, he says, he doesn’t murder people. Because, somehow, in his mind, they’re not really people, they’re just... things. Connell was prescient --- it’s Nazi ideology almost a decade before the Nazis came to power, and one of the questions people just couldn’t understand about Hitler’s Germany: how could an otherwise civilized people do such things? Writing of the Nazis, Hannah Arendt called it “the banality of evil,” and it’s an apt phrase that also describes Zaroff.
 
So, while I think it’s safe to say you wouldn’t want to meet Zaroff in person, either on a dark city street or a tropical island... as far as writing villains goes, Connell certainly came up with a fascinating and enduring one.
 
Yikes, indeed.
 
 

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Dads R Us

6/19/2017

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T’aint easy being a dad, now or in the past (yes, yes, I know, neither is being a mother, but there’s no need to debate which is harder, because we’re not getting into the game of one-upmanship today; just work with me). My thought is prompted by the fact that yesterday was Fathers’ Day. (Not Father’s Day, which technically refers to one father, but Fathers’ Day, which means many fathers. Plural. The English Language Police thanks you.) And so I thought it high time to look at several memorable fathers in literature. Some are great fathers, some not, but I like their characterizations even if I don’t care for their parenting/husbanding skills. So in no particular order:
 
1)Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird
 I like Atticus Finch a great deal, because he has so many admirable qualities: a calm, unflappable man of great courage and integrity, totally unfazed by the shenanigans of his young son and daughter, Atticus not only talks the talk, but walks the walk. (We’ll dismiss the awful Go Set a Watchman sequel/prior draft of TKAM, which I like to think Harper Lee in her right mind would never have let seen the light of day, because it does not portray Atticus in anywhere nearly as positive a light.)
 
2)Mr. Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
I also like Mr. Bennet, although he doesn’t at first appear as strong a father character as Atticus Finch. Of course, Mr. B does have a twittery wife and five daughters to contend with in a very different time and place than Atticus, and he mostly retreats to his study in the face of this “monstrous regiment of women,” as John Knox phrased it (although he was speaking without any humour or affection).I particularly like Donald Sutherland’s portrayal of Mr. B in the 2005 film version, even though that film took some significant liberties with Austen’s story. Sutherland brings a shy, reserved, retiring quality to Mr. Bennet that I found quite delightful.
 
3)Arthur Weasley, the Harry Potter series
Like Mr. Bennet, Arthur Weasley isn’t a particularly forceful father --- the Weasley family seems more a matriarchy run by Arthur’s fairly formidable wife --- but he appears quite okay with that. He possesses a lovely child-like curiosity (particularly about Muggles) and sense of humour, and he’s certainly there for his kids (and Harry, who isn’t even his own child) when raving lunatics like Death Eaters come cruising along.
 
4)Willie Loman, Death of a Salesman
You’ve got to feel sorry for Willie in this classic Arthur Miller play. He bought into the American Dream hook, line and sinker, only to eventually discover it wasn’t performing as advertised, and by that point he was unable to repudiate it because he’d sunk all his credibility into it. By the time the play takes place, Willie is a broken man, desperately trying to understand where it all went wrong while trying not to admit to himself or his family --- his amazingly dysfunctional family --- that anything has gone wrong. And as the title suggests, the story does not have a happy finale.
 
5)Lear, King Lear
As I tell my students, Shakespearean tragedies never end well for their titular characters, and this is no exception. Unlike Willie Loman, I find it hard to feel sympathy for King Lear, though, because while he wants to leave his kingdom to the child who loves him most --- which is fine, I guess --- he’s spectacularly inept at the process, doing such a terrible job that it eventually costs him his sanity and life. Yuck. Not cool, daddio.
 
6)John Proctor, The Crucible
Another Miller play, but unlike Willie Loman, I admire John Proctor. He’s a deeply flawed man (like all of us), but has the courage and integrity to admit it --- even though his actions and admission cost him his life by play’s end. Daniel Day-Lewis did an absolutely superb job of playing Proctor in the 1996 film version --- his heart-rending cry of “Because it is my name!” when asked why he cannot perjure himself and admit to a crime he did not commit is a mesmerizing moment where you cannot help but hear a man’s deepest anguish.
 
7)Harry Wormwood, Matilda
Let’s be clear: Harry Wormwood is a terrible dad. Despicable. Emotionally abusive and a crook. The best thing about him in this great tale from Roald Dahl is the way his daughter, Matilda, sees right though him and doesn’t let him get away with it. Again, as far as the filmic version goes, Danny DeVito was superbly, comically villainous as Harry in the 1996 film.
 
And finally, what would a post of mine be without a mandatory LOTR reference?
 
8)Elrond, The Lord of the Rings
I like the book Elrond better than the filmic one. Hugo Weaving’s movie Elrond seems really grumpy. All the time. Granted, he doesn’t want his stunningly beautiful daughter shacking up with a mortal who’s anything less than head honcho of both major Middle Earth empires, but the book Elrond is, well, far more dignified... less cranky... and less manipulative. I totally understand that daddies are protective of their little girls, but movie Elrond goes a little too far, I think.
 
So there we have it. There are, actually, scads more literary dads out there one could mention... but that’ll be enough to be going on with for one day.

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New Directions

6/12/2017

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Ah, June. Educators everywhere stagger, mentally exhausted, towards the finish line (students too, come to that). But there are upsides, too. Three years ago I was asked to give the toast to the graduating class at the high school where I teach, and so I thought it appropriate today to share what I wrote then. Because... it’s really applicable at all levels of life, not just when you’re finishing high school.
 
Parents, family members, colleagues... and graduating class. For a moment, let’s just savour that last phrase from every perspective: as parents, family members, friends, teachers, and students. It’s been a long haul at times, hasn’t it? I think the character Jeremy from the Zits newspaper cartoon speaks for many of you when he said high school isn’t about education, it’s about endurance. And at times, it has sure seemed like it... for us as parents and teachers as well, students, lest you get too wrapped up in your own angst and self-importance.  So it’s a milestone. A rite of passage. And I get to toast you, the students, in this milestone. Thank you for that honour. 
 
I believe many of us find writing a speech not unlike an execution in some ways... in that being personally involved certainly focuses your attention on the matter at hand like nothing else. So as I took a strategy from my students and finally focused my attention, sitting down this afternoon to write this toast --- just kidding, the basic ideas have been on a post-it note for at least a week --- I thought to myself, what, exactly, do we need to toast? And the answer came pretty much right away: how about the qualities and attributes you have demonstrated over the last few years, and will need to continue demonstrating as you set out on the next chapter of your lives? I think it’s appropriate because some years, parents, as teachers we watch in dismay as the student crop withers on the vine despite everything we do. But this year, and I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, the crop of students has been a bumper harvest, and we have all watched them develop attributes in the crucible of high school that will stand them in good stead.
 
First, I toast your sense of wonder and imagination. Do you recall beginning school a dozen years ago? The excitement of learning to read and write?  Of accomplishing something on your own? And finding, to your surprised pleasure, that you could do it well? For some of you, twelve years of hacking away at the walls of wisdom has blunted that sense of wonder and imagination, and if it has, I urge you to rediscover it, because it is a powerful force in this world.
 
I toast your courage and sense of adventure. It can be a difficult and dangerous world out there, folks, and you will need to take risks at times. To push your comfort zone. And that can be hard, because most of us aren’t very good with change. But seize opportunities as they arise --- not without some reflection, because not everything you come across will be a good bet. Have a plan, or you’ll drift through life, and wake up thirty years from now wondering what happened. However, be aware that that plan will --- at the very least --- require tinkering with from time to time, and that your control of your life is pretty much limited to the choices you make. That’s a very counter-cultural idea in a society that’s obsessed with the concept of control, I know. But it’s true. Filter ideas through your friends and families. Most of you know by now that your parents are your staunchest supporters, and for many of you, they’re slowly emerging from the ghetto you consigned them to a few years back of being the stupidest people on the planet.
 
I toast your resilience and endurance, for life is very seldom calm --- too often, it can be a raging tempest. There will be times when things will not go well for you. And you will make mistakes. Because we all do. That’s part of the human condition. At those times, what matters is that you don’t bow or buckle under the crushing weight of adversity. You correct your mistakes where you can. You endure. You persevere. You don’t give up or give in, because things will get better eventually. If you are resilient. If you can endure.
 
I toast your compassion and your caring. Look around you. You’re not in this alone. You were created to live in community, and it is imperative that you extend your empathy, your comfort and your support to those around you --- both known and unknown to you --- or we are all truly lost. Your compassion for others, your ability and willingness to extend grace, will keep you grounded in a world that all too often seems cold and bleak and uncaring.
 
And finally, I toast your passion and your sense of humour. You can spend your life just going through the motions, if you want. But it’s so much more desirable to approach everything you do with enthusiasm and a desire to do the very best you can, all the time. Never take life so seriously that you can’t laugh at the humour present in just about every situation. Sometimes, it may be pretty ironic humour. That’s okay. It’s still funny. And never take yourself so seriously that you can’t laugh at yourself. For example, sometimes I look at the colour-coded student seating sections I’ve arranged in my classroom, and I think to myself, really? And some of you are going to have to stop by tomorrow and check, right? Yeah. Well, don’t forget to take yourself with a grain of salt.
 
You know, there’s a tiny four-line poem I use at just about every grade level I teach. It was written by an American poet named Edwin Markham, and it’s called Preparedness. He writes:
           
            For all your days prepare
            And meet them ever alike;
            When you are the anvil, bear
            When you are the hammer, strike
 
May your anvil days be few, and your hammer days many. On behalf of my colleagues, I tell you it has been a pleasure and a privilege to briefly share paths on your walk through life. 
 
 

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    Author of The Annals of Arrinor series.  Lover of great literature, fine wine, and chocolate. Not necessarily in that order.

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