"Seemingly Identical Skins: "Identity and the Short Story in The Beggar Maid of stories. or a new genre of novel Although this question is not only relevant, but even imperative for the interpretation of Munro's work, the way in which Gardner treats it is negligent. He presents the question simply as a. rhetorical bait for his laudatory comment, and his response is flippant: "I'm not entirely sure, but whatever it is, it's wonderful. Although that kind of flattering casualness is pretty harmless in quotes under the gloss." from a paperback, Gardner's question unintentionally introduces – and foolishly dismisses – a crucial argument regarding the text she praises. No greater mistake could be made in approaching The Beggar Maid. This must be done by considering it as a novel – whether it is “of a new genre” or otherwise. The collection's main thematic concern, the fragmented and shifting nature of identity, depends entirely on its narrative structure as a variety of distinct stories. In this collection, Munro exhibits. and rejects the notion of life and characterization as a continuous, linear progression, a myth intrinsically promoted by the novelistic form. Instead, Munro presents a worldview in which life occurs in isolated, sporadic moments—snapshots not governed by the potentially illusory laws of linear time. Identity in Munro is also fractured, fluid and inconsistent. Munro's realism in The Beggar Maid is not the coherent, chronological realism of the novel. The thesis of fragmented identity at the heart of the collection reflects its narrative structure, and therefore depends on its reading as a series of short stories, distinct but interlocking. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay. Other critics have unknowingly approached the boundary between Munro as novelist and short story writer with more gravity than Gardner's carefree rhetoric. Hallvard Dahlie speculates that: "The more concentrated fictional form probably allows him to explore more imaginatively and intensely the intangible aspects of his world: those dark and shifting zones between the rational and the irrational, between the familiar and the comfortable world." and sudden dimensions. of terror, and between various facets of uncertainty and illusion” (57). Addressing the issue in an interview, Munro herself displays a certain indifference to the distinction between longer and shorter narrative fiction, stating simply: "I don't think a novel is an improvement over a news” (quoted in Dahlie 57). ). Although Munro rightly rejects any inherent disparity in literary value between the two, the difference between the novel and the short story is profound in terms of analysis, structure, and the ever-relevant relationship between form and content. These changes in structure enable, as Dahlie suggests, the deep and vaguely unsettling permeability between reality and illusion, between the real and the surreal in Munro's world. Munro begins to dismantle any notion of unified identity just a few pages into the novel's first story. collection, “Royal Beats”. In a surprisingly lyrical description of what are alternately called "bathroom noises" and, more delicately, "voices from below," Munro makes an initial cut that divides any traditional concept of coherent identity: "Even the tearing of a piece of toilet paper, the moving of a thigh wasaudible to those working, talking or eating in the kitchen. They knew each other's low voices, not only in their most explosive moments, but also in their sighs, grunts, pleas and intimate declarations. And they were all the most prudish people. So no one ever seemed to hear or listen, and no reference was made. The person making the noises in the bathroom had no connection to the person walking outside” (6). It is this last sentence that both introduces and cements the obscure and fluctuating role of identity in Munro's otherwise resolutely realistic world. Identity in The Beggar Maid is intentionally mutable and can be cracked, disassociated, and obscured if necessary. This discussion of bathroom noises is initially recalled in the narration by a similar illustration of Rose's father, as Rose observes his private mutterings in his shed. Although there is nothing particularly shameful or obscene about these largely absurd monologues, Rose recognizes in them a certain forbidden sacredness that makes her own listening somewhat voyeuristic in nature. This tension is also resolved by a compartmentalization of identity in the following conclusion: “The person who spoke these words and the person who spoke to him as to his father were not the same, even if they seemed to occupy the same space. It would be in the worst taste to greet someone who wasn't supposed to be there; that would not be forgiven” (6). Here, Rose talks about the unwritten rules that not only govern society, but also maintain social order on a much more intimate scale. There is a desire – and perhaps a necessity – both within and between individuals to compartmentalize identity in this way, to compensate for the accidentally voyeuristic nature of human interaction by tacitly agreeing to ignore overlap unwanted experiences, thereby preserving a calculated image of identity. both in oneself and in the other. Munro's unabashed depiction of "bathroom noises" inevitably recalls the infamous defecation scene in Joyce's Ulysses. While this revolutionary imagery defined modernism by pushing literary realism to new heights – or depths – of verisimilitude and intimacy, Munro's incarnation of the stage in the second half of the century pushed and rewrote the rules of realism representative. While the Leopold Bloom who enters "Jakes" is, by all accounts, the same who leaves, Munro's characters actively reject any supposedly constant principle of identity. In Munro's realism, the boundaries of identity that could once be safely assumed in representational literature become illusory and permeable. This break or perhaps reversal of the "intimate and profound" realism frequently cited as a defining characteristic of Munro's prose is often attributed more to her. later work (cited in Clark 49). Miriam Marty Clark specifically highlights a trend in Friend of My Youth and Open Secrets in which Munro's growing preoccupation with representation through intertextuality first permeates the confines of traditional realism, "denaturalizing realist representation and deconstructing its premises from within » (53). I would like to argue, however, that the breakdown in realism that Clark attributes to these later works is strongly foreshadowed in The Beggar Maid. Nearly two decades before Friend of My Youth and Open Secrets, The Beggar Maid's subtle rejection of any traditional notion of constant identity had already begun to "dismantle the foundations of realist narrative" (50). The fragmented and performative nature of identityin The Beggar Maid, which lies just beneath the surface of Munro's careful and detailed verisimilitude, is proof that Munro's realism was never transparent or strictly representational. Since this earlier work, Munro's stories have been dedicated to "undoing the illusion of transparency and moving forward reflexively, opaquely, and often difficultly on the unstable world of narrative" (49). Much of this instability in Munro's narrative world comes from a notion of identity that is inevitably performative in nature, which dominates The Beggar Maid. This idea of performance is first introduced in "Royal Beatings", as a focused Rose compares her father to "a bad actor, who becomes part grotesque". This does not mean that he is pretending, acting and not meaning it. He acts and he thinks it” (18). With this latter line, Munro establishes an insoluble link between performance and reality that renders any notion of truth or authentic experience illusory, if not strictly impossible. Later, in the – arguably – main story of the collection, Rose's romance with Patrick is frequently compared to the performance. Talking to Patrick, Rose “felt like a character in a play” (78). In all their interactions, she “felt the need to be continually playful” and her approach to sex is “an untapped counterfeit of passion” (84). While Rose believes that the performance is one-sided, Patrick, even unintentionally, contributes to the construction of Rose's identity: "He looked at her through her, through all the distractions she created, and loved an obedient image that 'she herself could not see. » (85). Just as the characters confronted with “bathroom noises” in “Royal Beatings” deliberately dissociate these moments of unpleasant intimacy from the identity of their creator, Patrick constructs and preserves his own image of Rose's identity. In Munro's world, while identity can be interpreted, it is also subject to the performative efforts of others. No individual has complete authority over their own identity. Individuals can manipulate the identities of others as well as their own. In this world, performance and reality are so inextricably linked that it becomes impossible even for the characters to discern an authentic moment, or perhaps even that such a thing exists. Reflecting on her marriage to Patrick, Rose sometimes has brief glimpses of potentially authentic interactions in which "it was as if they were in different yet seemingly identical skins, as if there were a radiant Rose and Patrick , kind and innocent, almost never visible, in the shadow of themselves” (99). Munro's world is full of these impostors and look-alikes. From one story to the next, the characters change into "different though seemingly identical skins", leaving no clue as to which, if any, is the original and which is just a simple costume . Each story features characters potentially entirely distinct from those in the last – their essence only nominal. Munro doesn't chart the progression of a few single, constant characters like a novel would. Each distinct story depicts a distinct fragment of a character's fractured identity. This notion of existence as performance takes on another dimension in the final – and also arguably main – story of the collection, “Who Do You Think You Are?” " In this story, Munro illustrates a paradox between the obligatory nature of representation and its derogatory connotation in society through a description of the annual Hanratty parades of Rose's youth: "One of the most derogatory things we can say about.

Essay / "Seemingly Identical Skins: "Identity and the Short Story in The Beggar Maid of stories. or a new genre of novel Although this question is not only relevant, but even imperative for the interpretation of Munro's work, the way in which Gardner treats it is negligent. He presents the question simply as a. rhetorical bait for his laudatory comment, and his response is flippant: "I'm not entirely sure, but whatever it is, it's wonderful. Although that kind of flattering casualness is pretty harmless in quotes under the gloss." from a paperback, Gardner's question unintentionally introduces – and foolishly dismisses – a crucial argument regarding the text she praises. No greater mistake could be made in approaching The Beggar Maid. This must be done by considering it as a novel – whether it is “of a new genre” or otherwise. The collection's main thematic concern, the fragmented and shifting nature of identity, depends entirely on its narrative structure as a variety of distinct stories. In this collection, Munro exhibits. and rejects the notion of life and characterization as a continuous, linear progression, a myth intrinsically promoted by the novelistic form. Instead, Munro presents a worldview in which life occurs in isolated, sporadic moments—snapshots not governed by the potentially illusory laws of linear time. Identity in Munro is also fractured, fluid and inconsistent. Munro's realism in The Beggar Maid is not the coherent, chronological realism of the novel. The thesis of fragmented identity at the heart of the collection reflects its narrative structure, and therefore depends on its reading as a series of short stories, distinct but interlocking. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay. Other critics have unknowingly approached the boundary between Munro as novelist and short story writer with more gravity than Gardner's carefree rhetoric. Hallvard Dahlie speculates that: "The more concentrated fictional form probably allows him to explore more imaginatively and intensely the intangible aspects of his world: those dark and shifting zones between the rational and the irrational, between the familiar and the comfortable world." and sudden dimensions. of terror, and between various facets of uncertainty and illusion” (57). Addressing the issue in an interview, Munro herself displays a certain indifference to the distinction between longer and shorter narrative fiction, stating simply: "I don't think a novel is an improvement over a news” (quoted in Dahlie 57). ). Although Munro rightly rejects any inherent disparity in literary value between the two, the difference between the novel and the short story is profound in terms of analysis, structure, and the ever-relevant relationship between form and content. These changes in structure enable, as Dahlie suggests, the deep and vaguely unsettling permeability between reality and illusion, between the real and the surreal in Munro's world. Munro begins to dismantle any notion of unified identity just a few pages into the novel's first story. collection, “Royal Beats”. In a surprisingly lyrical description of what are alternately called "bathroom noises" and, more delicately, "voices from below," Munro makes an initial cut that divides any traditional concept of coherent identity: "Even the tearing of a piece of toilet paper, the moving of a thigh wasaudible to those working, talking or eating in the kitchen. They knew each other's low voices, not only in their most explosive moments, but also in their sighs, grunts, pleas and intimate declarations. And they were all the most prudish people. So no one ever seemed to hear or listen, and no reference was made. The person making the noises in the bathroom had no connection to the person walking outside” (6). It is this last sentence that both introduces and cements the obscure and fluctuating role of identity in Munro's otherwise resolutely realistic world. Identity in The Beggar Maid is intentionally mutable and can be cracked, disassociated, and obscured if necessary. This discussion of bathroom noises is initially recalled in the narration by a similar illustration of Rose's father, as Rose observes his private mutterings in his shed. Although there is nothing particularly shameful or obscene about these largely absurd monologues, Rose recognizes in them a certain forbidden sacredness that makes her own listening somewhat voyeuristic in nature. This tension is also resolved by a compartmentalization of identity in the following conclusion: “The person who spoke these words and the person who spoke to him as to his father were not the same, even if they seemed to occupy the same space. It would be in the worst taste to greet someone who wasn't supposed to be there; that would not be forgiven” (6). Here, Rose talks about the unwritten rules that not only govern society, but also maintain social order on a much more intimate scale. There is a desire – and perhaps a necessity – both within and between individuals to compartmentalize identity in this way, to compensate for the accidentally voyeuristic nature of human interaction by tacitly agreeing to ignore overlap unwanted experiences, thereby preserving a calculated image of identity. both in oneself and in the other. Munro's unabashed depiction of "bathroom noises" inevitably recalls the infamous defecation scene in Joyce's Ulysses. While this revolutionary imagery defined modernism by pushing literary realism to new heights – or depths – of verisimilitude and intimacy, Munro's incarnation of the stage in the second half of the century pushed and rewrote the rules of realism representative. While the Leopold Bloom who enters "Jakes" is, by all accounts, the same who leaves, Munro's characters actively reject any supposedly constant principle of identity. In Munro's realism, the boundaries of identity that could once be safely assumed in representational literature become illusory and permeable. This break or perhaps reversal of the "intimate and profound" realism frequently cited as a defining characteristic of Munro's prose is often attributed more to her. later work (cited in Clark 49). Miriam Marty Clark specifically highlights a trend in Friend of My Youth and Open Secrets in which Munro's growing preoccupation with representation through intertextuality first permeates the confines of traditional realism, "denaturalizing realist representation and deconstructing its premises from within » (53). I would like to argue, however, that the breakdown in realism that Clark attributes to these later works is strongly foreshadowed in The Beggar Maid. Nearly two decades before Friend of My Youth and Open Secrets, The Beggar Maid's subtle rejection of any traditional notion of constant identity had already begun to "dismantle the foundations of realist narrative" (50). The fragmented and performative nature of identityin The Beggar Maid, which lies just beneath the surface of Munro's careful and detailed verisimilitude, is proof that Munro's realism was never transparent or strictly representational. Since this earlier work, Munro's stories have been dedicated to "undoing the illusion of transparency and moving forward reflexively, opaquely, and often difficultly on the unstable world of narrative" (49). Much of this instability in Munro's narrative world comes from a notion of identity that is inevitably performative in nature, which dominates The Beggar Maid. This idea of performance is first introduced in "Royal Beatings", as a focused Rose compares her father to "a bad actor, who becomes part grotesque". This does not mean that he is pretending, acting and not meaning it. He acts and he thinks it” (18). With this latter line, Munro establishes an insoluble link between performance and reality that renders any notion of truth or authentic experience illusory, if not strictly impossible. Later, in the – arguably – main story of the collection, Rose's romance with Patrick is frequently compared to the performance. Talking to Patrick, Rose “felt like a character in a play” (78). In all their interactions, she “felt the need to be continually playful” and her approach to sex is “an untapped counterfeit of passion” (84). While Rose believes that the performance is one-sided, Patrick, even unintentionally, contributes to the construction of Rose's identity: "He looked at her through her, through all the distractions she created, and loved an obedient image that 'she herself could not see. » (85). Just as the characters confronted with “bathroom noises” in “Royal Beatings” deliberately dissociate these moments of unpleasant intimacy from the identity of their creator, Patrick constructs and preserves his own image of Rose's identity. In Munro's world, while identity can be interpreted, it is also subject to the performative efforts of others. No individual has complete authority over their own identity. Individuals can manipulate the identities of others as well as their own. In this world, performance and reality are so inextricably linked that it becomes impossible even for the characters to discern an authentic moment, or perhaps even that such a thing exists. Reflecting on her marriage to Patrick, Rose sometimes has brief glimpses of potentially authentic interactions in which "it was as if they were in different yet seemingly identical skins, as if there were a radiant Rose and Patrick , kind and innocent, almost never visible, in the shadow of themselves” (99). Munro's world is full of these impostors and look-alikes. From one story to the next, the characters change into "different though seemingly identical skins", leaving no clue as to which, if any, is the original and which is just a simple costume . Each story features characters potentially entirely distinct from those in the last – their essence only nominal. Munro doesn't chart the progression of a few single, constant characters like a novel would. Each distinct story depicts a distinct fragment of a character's fractured identity. This notion of existence as performance takes on another dimension in the final – and also arguably main – story of the collection, “Who Do You Think You Are?” " In this story, Munro illustrates a paradox between the obligatory nature of representation and its derogatory connotation in society through a description of the annual Hanratty parades of Rose's youth: "One of the most derogatory things we can say about.

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