“Take All of Murphy”, Cryptic Symbolism Included

Many students studying anatomy and human biology have to wait years before they are given the privilege of dissecting a full, human body. Until then, substitutes are provided – everything from a frog to a bull – and mostly, students are only given little bits to analyze at a time. The opportunity to learn anatomy first-hand truly is, as Dr. Harrison says in “Taking All of Murphy”, a gift (34). In this short story, which is anthologized in Vincent Lam’s Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures, a group of three medical students are followed as they complete their first human dissection. Ming, Chen and Sri represent different ways in which people react to the task of cutting open a human body by showing how different levels of empathy with their cadaver manifests. Lam creates a maze of imagery and symbolism that doesn’t allow the reader to draw any easy conclusions about the meaning of his work.

The students signify three different markers on a scale of compassion towards the cadavers. Ming sees the cadaver as a simple object, saying, “‘Hello? Dead? Remember? I don’t have dreams, because I don’t have hang-ups about the stupid corpse,” (40). Sri, on the other hand, cannot help but humanize their dissection subject, including taking the teacher’s suggestion of giving the cadaver a name Sri proposed that they name their cadaver Murphy” (40), and while Ming did not want to assign a name, Chen, the compromiser, “took neither side, suggested that each do as they please,” (40).

Sri represents the idea that there should be an atmosphere of ceremony surrounding the dissection of a human. He sees Ming’s eagerness as somehow impure, and decides to start the dissection himself, because he “felt only fear, which he believed was a better way to begin this undertaking...” (32). Furthermore, after each day’s session in the dissection lab, Sri would completely change all of his clothes, including socks and underwear (39) and he is shown as being someone who might have knowledge on ceremonial burial rights (38). When Chen brings up cultural burial practices, Ming presents the opposing viewpoint when she says, “‘You’re thinking of concrete boots. Gangsters did that,’” (38). The idea that the way in which a person or group of people deal with deadness and death can be placed along a ceremony to criminality spectrum is one that is shown through the attitudes and actions of the three students highlighted in this story.

As disagreements between the group escalate, they become more deeply meaningful to the reader. Ming wants to cut through a tattoo on the cadaver’s arm, following what the manual says, but Sri is put off by the idea of desecrating the man’s tattoo. “‘You should respect a man’s symbols,’” he explains to the group (43). Lam shows the students musing over the meaning of the tattoo, but only Sri really cares about the significance of it, and about preserving it. Ming, focused on memorizing without interpretation, follows the manual without regard to this man’s “symbols”. Later, Ming misplaces the right side of the cadaver’s head, and Sri is outraged at the disrespect that Ming shows to Murphy (45).

A critical reader, one who is actively looking for symbolism, may see the loss of the right side of the head as representative of an absence of right brain activity in the medical students’ learning process. The right hemisphere of the brain is popularly portrayed as being home to creativity and interpretation processes. However, lateralization of brain function is not nearly as simple as it is often assumed to be – a fact that medically trained Vincent Lam would be aware of. Lam does a great job of exploring a tendency which many writers and critical readers exhibit: the over simplification of symbolism.

In the same way, there are hints throughout the text that the story Lam is telling may have biblical resonance. The Dean speaks of expulsion, as from the Garden, as a punishment for distasteful behaviour (33); the bar the students spend time at is named “The Paradise”, but is filled with fire (49); and Sri and Chen analyze the bible verse Mark 16 (51). Lam makes these references problematic by leaving them unconnected, and by tinting them with irony. The students who are portrayed as being respectful of the dissection subjects pour beer into Murphy (52), and yet are not expelled. The students fail to note the disconnect between the name of their bar and the atmosphere it presents (49). The bible verse marked on Murphy’s arm is analyzed, but by appropriating their own meanings to the man’s tattoo, the students effectively negate the true meaning that the man, now dead and unable to correct them, really had for the tattoo (53). The only simple relationships shown in this story are between the three characters; Ming, Chen and Sri have their roles, their opinions, and they remain in their proper places until the end.

Lam presents the reader with a plethora or symbols that only underscore the impossibility of knowing the true intent an author may have had for his symbols. In the same way that the students can never know Murphy’s original intentions for each of his tattoos, Lam has created an environment in which the reader can only speculate how he meant for the dots of metaphor and symbolism to connect. Despite the subject matter being scientific in nature, this story may aim to illustrate to a critical reader how there is no correct answer in analyzing a piece of literature, but only that it is important to always “respect a man’s symbols,” (43).

Works Cited

Lam, Vincent. "Take All of Murphy." Bloodletting and Miraculous Cures Stories. New York: Anchor Canada, 2006. Print.

Push and the Relate-ability of Precious

Recently, there has been a lot of noise about a movie called "Precious", featuring Gabby Sidibe. As a general rule, I try to read the book before I see the movie (one of the many reasons why I refuse to see the apparent beauty of Robert Pattinson on the big screen) and so I rushed to my nearest book store to buy Push, by Sapphire.

As an English major with a general background in British Literature, I'm usually quite put off by any writing that is less than grammatical. I knew, coming into it, that Push was likely to be upsetting, and not only because of its content. I was actually more worried about if I would be able to force myself through a book where "maff" is the interpretation of the word "math" by a nearly illiterate girl.

I know, I know, I'm awful. Many amazing books have had to be put down because of this very issue. But after a term of Caribbean literature, I've been learning how to read books in Creole, or in a mix of English and Creole, and this addresses my issue nicely. The problem is that I don't hear words in my head as I read, so I get easily confused by forms of phonemic orthography. With some practice I've been improving at hearing a voice in my head, and it was because of this that I found myself very able to enjoy Push.

The story starts out when Precious gets kicked out of school for being pregnant. She seems to embody all sorts of contradiction -- she yells at the teacher, she won't open her textbook (she can't read the numbers). In that same class, she becomes known as the peace keeper, and the teacher appreciates her ability to control the unruly math-student masses.

Without school to turn to, Precious returns home to her abusive mother. Reading about all the hardships that Precious has been through, the inappropriate sexuality, the beatings, the malnutrition, I fully expected the book to come off like a twisted game -- where the author tries to horrify, and in case that isn't enough, here's something worse!! Surprisingly, I was very touched by her stories of abuse. Though the scale was different, every moment was relatable to me, not least the moment when she learns the word for what her father did to her and was able to vocalise it, screaming "rape" over and over.

The social issues laced throughout the book also affect readers in their everyday lives; Saphire takes each situation and makes it into hyperbole. The saddest part is that, for some people, it isn't. As a reader, though, these pictures of racism, homophobia, low-self esteem, poverty and abuse are echoed small-scale through most people's lives. Some particulars may resonate more than others.

I know that some reviewers found the character of Precious to be transgressive and carnivalesque (in a bad way), but I can only speak for the novel. I found the character to be likable and it was her ability to learn and to reason that got to me. She gives me hope that even people who are raised with intolerant beliefs, such as Precious's homophobia, can see the error in such thinking and love people, particularly Ms. Rain and some of her classmates, despite her initial prejudices regarding their sexuality and gender expression.

Great book, and will definitely see the movie. As soon as it starts playing in Toronto... or ANYWHERE remotely near me.

(Update: It seems to be opening at Scotiabank Theatre on Friday. Score!)

Marion Bethel and the Art-Life Conundrum

The last time I went to a literature reading was years ago, when the brilliant J. K. Rowling blessed Toronto with her presence. It was a record-breaking event, securing my (though anonymous) immortality in the Guinness Book of World Records. This was a decidedly different experience.

This was an intimate occasion, with no more than thirty of us packed into the tiny New College Women's Lounge. She stood on the same level as us, with a small podium to hold her work and a chair for her to sit in after the reading. Dr. Christian Campbell, a professor at the University of Toronto in the English Department, gave the standard introduction ("Marion Bethel is a Bahamian poet, fiction writer and feminist activist...") before delving into his personal history with the artist.

When Bethel was given the stand, she was just so shockingly humble; she spoke some more about Dr. Campbell, and then proceeded to personally thank nearly every member of the audience. It soon became clear that this was a reunion for her.

Bethel immigrated to Canada at the age of ten, sent to boarding school in Toronto by a father who wanted a better life for her. Many of the people at the reading last night were people who had helped her to become accomidated to Toronto: the family that took her in as one of their own, the teachers who fostered her talent. She was also joined by her contemporaries -- other Caribbean writers, artists and teachers. The atmosphere in the room was comfortable and familiar, and those of us who were not formally acquainted with Bethel soon settled into the feeling of intimacy between audience and performer.

She then proceeded with the dedications, during which she was very emotionally moved. She spoke about her mother, Jane Bethel, who is afflicted with Alzheimer’s. Bethel revealed that her mother's spirit anchors much of what she does and fuels her poetic journey. She dedicated the reading as well to the memory of her father, and she noted that his legacy continues to unfold in her life. She also spoke about the aforementioned foster family, who gave her refuge when she first came to Canada and introduced her to the culture that her new home had to offer.

Her readings were done from her newest manuscript, Bougainvillea Ringplay, and it was such a privilege to be given a glance at the brilliance of this work. Since her first book, Guanahani My Love, she has adopted a more jazzy tone, leaving the more formal structure of sonnets and quatrains. Her newer poems took more risks and certainly had more erotic undertones. I'm not sure when the book will be released, but I'm hoping it's soon!

One of my favourites was the first poem she read, called "Tobacco Dove". She introduced it by explaining that a tobacco dove is a species of dove found in the Bahamas; it is brown with a black ring around its neck. Bethel described a memory of the dove that had stuck in her mind -- of when she was taking a walk and saw a woman cradling such a dove, stroking it and trying to coax it to fly again. The poem was told from the first person from the dove's perspective, and was an ode to the desperation that comes attached to being no longer able to do what your body is built to. It had a thread of loss throughout it, and also a sense of defiance.

The next poem that really connected with me was called "Sweet Chariot". As an introduction, Bethel described a young man she had met while she was working as a lawyer in the Bahamas. She was attempting, on appeal, to get this man off death row. He was in his early twenties, and had been in jail since he was 18, but asked her to give up the appeal -- he had made his peace and was ready to die.

This poem was an emotional performance, painting a picture of a man dying by hanging. It was peppered with onomatopoeia and the sense of rapidity, "quick quick", "high high" and then finally "snap". Bethel combined the descriptions of death with shocking erotic images which forcefully conveyed the sense of disparity, the paradox of the situation. His life, she explained, brief and violent though it had been, was far less terrifying than his death.

The poem which, I personally felt, best conveyed her own personal history was the poem "In the Marketplace". It reaches deep into Bethel's memory, to the time when she was sent away to Canada by her father. It reveals how the purpose of her move was to "buy her a new tongue" and shows the regret and sorrow she felt when she lost her accent and characteristic hip-swinging walk. The poem moves through her crisis of personal identity by evoking the image of a marketplace and shows how she felt commodified by the decisions her father made for her. She was being sent for a new tongue. The question inevitably raised is, what was wrong with her old one?

The interview after the reading revealed a lot about her motives in writing poetry, about the class distinctions which shaped her life and the aesthetics of her poetry and how her writing continues to evolve. She spoke about the other artists who influenced her throughout her life and the activists who inspired her. It was truly an illuminating performance; it was honest and felt raw, unstaged. The way in which she was able to find her literature through her career as an attorney really came through to me; so many of us have to fight so hard to find time for our art. For those people who are truly gifted, such are Marion Bethel, no matter where circumstance and politics place them they will always find themselves guided back on the path towards their art. Bethel is taking a hiatus from law now to focus exclusively on her poetry, and I, for one, am thankful for it.

Event: Marion Bethel at the Women and Gender Studies Lounge, 2nd floor, New College, 20 Willcocks Street at the University of Toronto. Thursday October 15, 2009 from 6pm - 8pm