Week 3: Part 2: Chapters 1-4

[David]

I am not sure how to take this reversal of size from Lilliput to Brobdingnag. Is the inhabitant size an allegory for the relative powers of countries, or does it more simply demonstrate that one’s relative safety is dependent upon environment? What should we realize about power and its source? One thing is clear, the shoe is on the other foot.

I was most struck of course by the differences in perspectives between the Lilliputians and the Brobdinagians. As a relatively little person, Gulliver is quite timid and fearful of the giants than the Lilliputians were of him. Another difference was the Lilliputians seemed malicious and scheming, where the Brobdinagians, at least the farmer, seem less malicious but more motivated by money through exploitation. I am still trying to work out how the Queen’s dwarf fits into this scheme of perspectives. Is Swift proposing some rule that “little” people or those that pretend to power are malicious, and “big” people with actual power are indifferent and negligent due to inattentiveness and self-interest?

From a brief discussion on Swift’s attitude toward slavery in a previous week, Gulliver’s existence seems more slave-like; in fact he refers to the farmer as his master and the degrading way in which the farmer works him nearly to death. In addition, the king thinks Gulliver is a little machine., i.e., not human. These conditions seem more characteristic of human bondage than a subject to tyranny. One thing the Lilliputians and the Brogdinagians have in common is they abuse or misuse their power, no matter how much they only imagine it to be, or how aware of that power they are, or are not.

I am also puzzled by what is going on with Gulliver’s great aversion to the beggars. He seems to be most disgusted by the beggar people and their physical ailments that they cannot do anything about and somewhat and scientifically more interested in the lice they carry. I think there are a couple things going on in that scene. I would think, as a surgeon, he would express a little more compassion than disgust for the beggars.

[Mike]

Whilst reading the scene in which Gulliver discusses the state of Europe with the King of Brobdingnag and the King is flabbergasted over the politics, drama, and seriousness of such tiny people, I was reminded of Carl Sagan’s reflection of the “pale blue dot”

“Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.” —Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot

[David]

Mike, nice connection. Speaking of Carl Sagan, there seems to be some opening salvos in Swift's satirization of modern science, and more of the ancient vs. modern debate Hollynnnv informed us about. First we are told this about the king:

The King, although he be as learned a person as any in his dominions, had been educated in the study of philosophy, and particularly mathematics;

Asimov reminds us about the meaning of the term "philosophy" at this time: Swift refers to what we would now call "science". The word science" did not come into use till the nineteenth century. Then we are introduced to the three scholar who conclude:

After much debate, they concluded unanimously that I was only relplum scalcath, which is interpreted literally, lusus naturœ (freak of nature) a determination exactly agreeable to the modern philosophy of Europe, whose professors, disdaining the old evasion of occult causes, whereby the followers of Aristotle endeavour in vain to disguise their ignorance, have invented this wonderful solution of all difficulties to the unspeakable advancement of human knowledge.

Asimov notes this regarding the ancient term of "occult" vs. the modern phrase, "freak of nature":

"Occult" means "hidden" or "concealed," so that an "occult cause" is one we don't know. "A freak of nature" is something that does not follow from the nature laws we think we know, so that we cannot predict or explain it. What Swift is saying is the modern scientists, scorning the phraseology of the ancients, have created a new term in which to clothe their ignorance.
As it happens, Swift was strongly opposed to the science of his day, and was a great admirer of the lore of the ancients, which he thought (quite wrongly) to be far the superior. There will be many places in which this prejudice of his will be plainly shown

[Rafael]

Good of you to connect this section with Sagan's teachings.

I think of the dwarf's case as if it was about jealousy. Or probably because the dwarf was victim of bullying all his life and now he has someone to harass who cannot defend itself. It remembers me of Poe's short story Hop-Frog.

[Ashley]

David wrote: "I am not sure how to take this reversal of size from Lilliput to Brobdingnag. Is the inhabitant size an allegory for the relative powers of countries, or does it more simply demonstrate that one’s ..."

I'm still working on this, but I do think it has to do with relative power/perception of power. When first afraid of being eaten, Gulliver writes "...human creatures are observed to be more savage and cruel in proportion to their bulk, what could I expect but to be a morsel in the mouth of the first among these enormous barbarians that should happen to seize me? Undoubtedly philosophers are in the right, when they tell us that nothing is great or little otherwise than by comparison.”

There were a few different points of comparison I noticed between the Lilliputians and Brobdinagian cultures. In either case, Gulliver's magnificent abilities to eat, walk, and utilize language are on display. The Brobdinagians hold him up in a handkerchief just as he held the Lilliputians, but this time Gulliver doesn't trivialize the relative danger. They also make fun of his politcal systems, much as he made light of Lilliputian politics.

I also thought it was cute that the Brobdinagians thought Gulliver was a piece of clock-work, but when the Lilliputians found his pocket watch, they perceived it to be something he worshiped.

[Ashley]

As Gulliver's worth is being assessed, he describes “This man, who was old and dim-sighted, put on his spectacles to behold me better; at which I could not forbear laughing very heartily, for his eyes appeared like the full moon shining into a chamber at two windows.." It reminded me of the first section when the Lilliputians felt "...blindness is an addition to courage, by concealing dangers from us; that the fear you had for your eyes, was the greatest difficulty in bringing over the enemy's fleet, and it would be sufficient for you to see by the eyes of the ministers…”

[Jennifer]

New lady here, my name is Jenny. Looking forward to reading the discussions. I started reading Gulliver's Travels this morning while I was on my run with my dogs (audiobook). It made me ponder on the innocence and goodness that the Lilliputians had, which made them offer freedom to Gulliver pretty quickly. I found a paper on Academia.com: Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels: An Allegorical Satire of the “Not So Remote” Nations of the World
by Meriç Tutku Ozmen. He has a quote in the paper that is interesting, sourced from Z.S. Fink:
“A Voyage to Lilliput”, “is a merciless satire on Whigs and Tories, on the activities of political parties in general” (Fink 157). Swift talks about the feuding of the High-Heel Party and Low-Heel Party in Lilliput, where the height of one’s shoes and the degree of hobble in an individual’s gait signify levels of political power. Here the Low-Heels represent the Whigs, who were identified with the Low Church or Evangelical faction of the Church of England, and the High-Heels stands for the Tories, who were identified with the High Church or Anglican/traditional Roman Catholic faction of the Church. As Fink points out, although Swift had Tory inclinations, “he could not help seeing that from a larger point of view High Heels and Low Heels were alike contemptible and the causes which divided them trivial, like the differences in religious groups which also excited his ire” (157-58).

Fink, Z. S. "Political Theory in Gulliver's Travels." ELH 14.2 (1947): 151-61. JSTOR. Web.

[David]

Jennifer wrote: "New lady here, my name is Jenny. Looking forward to reading the discussions. I started reading Gulliver's Travels this morning while I was on my run with my dogs (audiobook). It made me ponder on t..."

Hello and welcome to the group and thank you for your thoughtful contribution to the discussion and thanks for the references. Swift certainly seems to have an opinion on the factionalism in politics as well as religion. This is my first time reading Gulliver's Travels and it is nothing like the children's cartoons I grew up with; how about you?

Be sure and introduce yourself to the group here: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
Be sure and tell us what kind of dogs you have. Happy reading.

[Kathy]

Welcome, Jenny!

Does anyone know whether Swift might have influenced Lewis Carroll? I was reminded of Alice in the passages where Gulliver is describing how gross people look up close and "larger-than-life," including what the Lilliputians said about him. One difference between these tales, though, is that Alice herself is magically changing size ("eat this," "drink this"), whereas Gulliver's size remains the same and instead he travels to unknown regions where the inhabitants are smaller and larger than he is.

[Donnally]

Swift's unflattering descriptions of the details of Brobdingnagian physiology are part of his fixation on the body and bodily functions (much like his urine extinguishing the fire in Lilliput). There will be more of this when we come to the yahoos. It is a way of reminding us that we aren't the spiritual beings we may think we are.

[Tamara]

Finding himself a Lilliputian in Brobdingnag, Gulliver’s vanity diminishes. He realizes his body must have seemed as disgusting to the Lilliputians as the bodies of the Brobdingnagians seem to him. He also recognizes the folly of human beings when they strut about with self-importance and self-inflated egos.

. . .if I had then beheld a company of English lords and ladies in their finery and birthday clothes, acting their several parts in the most courtly manner of strutting, and bowing and prating; to say the truth, I should have been strongly tempted to laugh as much at them as this king and his grandees did at me.

I think there are two types of journeys here—an outer journey where Gulliver physically travels from one place to the next; an inner, parallel journey in which Gulliver learns about himself and, by extension, about the foibles of humanity.

[Tamara]

Donnally wrote: "Swift's unflattering descriptions of the details of Brobdingnagian physiology are part of his fixation on the body and bodily functions (much like his urine extinguishing the fire in Lilliput). The..."

It reminds me a lot of Rabelais' Gargantua and Pantagruel. Also, the scatalogical humor brings to mind Chaucer's The Miller's Tale.

[Tamara]

Rafael wrote: "I think of the dwarf's case as if it was about jealousy. Or probably because the dwarf was victim of bullying all his life and now he has someone to harass who cannot defend itself. .."

I read it the same way.

I think Swift is demonstrating that people who are at the lower end of the totem pole and who are victimized by those above them in the hierarchy will frequently turn around and abuse those who are below them. The dwarf feels powerless to defend himself against those above them in the hierarchy so he lashes out at Gulliver since he is beneath him in size and powerless to defend himself.

[David]

Tamara wrote: "I think Swift is demonstrating that people who are at the lower end of the totem pole and who are victimized by those above them..."

What I am hearing is that Swift seems to be saying, 💩 rolls downhill.

[Lily]

Tamara wrote: "It reminds me a lot of Rabelais' Gargantua and Pantagruel. ..."

I know neither author nor his works at all, but, as you are probably already aware, Swift's biographical info says Rabelais was very much an influence.

[Tamara]

David wrote: "What I am hearing is that Swift seems to be saying, 💩 rolls downhill..."

You put it far more succinctly and eloquently than I could ever hope to do!

[Tamara]

Lily wrote: "I know neither author nor his works at all, but, as you are probably already aware, Swift's biographical info says Rabelais was very much an influence..."

Actually, I didn't know that, Lily. I haven't read Swift's biographical info. But it's nice to know I was on the right track. Thanks.

[Lily]

Tamara wrote: "I haven't read Swift's biographical info. ..."

At this point, I have only biographical tidbits, Tamara. I am fascinated, at least at the moment, by these voices coming out of the Renaissance and into the so called Enlightenment. I am asking myself who are the comparable voices of the modern period; do we know yet? Will the great satirists come from the talk show hosts/comedy hour shows?

[Kathy]

I was interested in Swift's attempt to put Lilliput and Brobdingnag on the map--or, at least, to make it credible that these places could exist. There's an illustration in my book that might have been done by C. E. Brock, who drew the other images in my copy (see note in the general schedule thread), but it isn't signed by him, so I'm not sure whether everyone's copy might include this map. In it, Brobdingnag appears as a peninsula, nearly an island, jutting out west from North America. It might arguably resemble Alaska, since New Albion also appears on the map south of North America--apparently, the name for the part of the continent north of Mexico claimed by Sir Francis Drake. Brobdingnag is far north of here. It occurs to me that our science fiction/fantasy (one of the genres we ascribed to the book at the beginning) can't do this any longer. The globe is too well mapped. Instead, we have to go to outer space, an "underworld," or some other strange location.

In addition, Swift gives what seems like a pretty convincing geographical account full of sailing terms at the beginning of Chapter 1, but then I wondered whether an actual sailor would "buy" this or whether he's just throwing around some seafaring terms to make the account appear credible.

[Donnally]

The account is a mere higgledy-piggledy of sea phrases thrown together. And given the map which shows Brobdingnag connected by a narrow isthmus to California, it's extraordinary that this storm blew his ship from the Molucca Islands in the archipelago near Indonesia clear across the Pacific without sighting or touching any land.

[Aiden]

Lily wrote: "I am asking myself who are the comparable voices of the modern period; do we know yet? Will the great satirists come from the talk show hosts/comedy hour shows?"

I do think the ubiquity of television has changed the nature of satire with many possible novelists writing for comedy shows instead. Good TV satire does need good writers. The modern period has produced some great satire in literature, though.

Kurt Vonnegut was a master of the post-war American satirical novel. Paul Beatty comes to mind as a celebrated active literary satirist. His novel The Sellout won awards and I greatly enjoyed it. He’ll keep writing, no doubt. The short stories of George Saunders also often provide provocative and sometimes-chilling satire of modern life, particularly in his collection Tenth of December.

One thing I learned from studying Aristophanes recently is that satire has been around as long as society and it is definitely alive and well in literature today.

[Kathy]

George Saunders is wonderful. Highly recommend Tenth of December to anyone who hasn't read it. His satire can be oddly gentle even when it's biting.

[Alexey]

Donnally wrote: "The account is a mere higgledy-piggledy of sea phrases thrown together. And given the map which shows Brobdingnag connected by a narrow isthmus to California, it's extraordinary that this storm ble..."

Interestingly, if this mess is intentional or negligence?

[Lily]

Aiden wrote: " The modern period has produced some great satire in literature, though..."

Aiden, I'm curious what your reaction, and that of others here, would be to this biographical introduction to Asimov's annotated edition of Gulliver's Travels:

"The greatest of the English satirists, by common consent, is Jonathan Swift. In fact, when it comes to pillorying the vices and follies of human beings, the only three people in our Western tradition who can be mentioned in the same breath with Swift are the Frenchman Voltaire, the Englishman Charles Dickens, and the American Mark Twain." The Annotated Gulliver's Travels , page xi.

I am currently reading Thomas C. Foster's Twenty-five Books That Shaped America. He makes a similar case for Walt Whitman as America's (U.S.) national poet. I'm always more than a little skeptical of these one-offs, but the thoughts behind them can be fascinating. (Foster also wrote of Samuel Clemens: "The book that matters among the very considerable Mark Twain oeuvre is indeed Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884).")

[Donnally]

Lily quotes Asimov: "In fact, when it comes to pillorying the vices and follies of human beings, the only three people in our Western tradition who can be mentioned in the same breath with Swift are the Frenchman Voltaire, the Englishman Charles Dickens, and the American Mark Twain."

I'd add Aristophanes, Ben Jonson, Moliere and Bernard Shaw. However, of all these, I think Swift stands out as the most savage.

[Tamara]

Donnally wrote: "However, of all these, I think Swift stands out as the most savage..."

Why "savage"?

[Lily]

I'm afraid I may be stuck on a theme as I am reading Gulliver -- the differences between early 1700's and our 2020's. A couple more that Asimov clarified for me, in these cases, about language and how usage of words has changed:

Chapter 1: "one of them, who ventured so far as to get a full Sight of my Face, lifting up his Hands and Eyes by way of Admiration, cryed out in a shrill, but distinct voice, ...."
Asimov's comment: "Nowadays 'admiration' means 'a regarding with esteem and pleasure.' The word is from a Latin term meaning 'to wonder at' and has changed into a particular kind of wonder. In Swift's time, it still bore the general meaning of 'a regarding with wonder.' A frightening phenomenon, such as Gulliver was to the Lilliputians, would thus be an object of admiration (wonder) even though its contemplation gave the reverse of pleasure." It is almost as if 'meaning" has circled 180 degrees.

[Lily]

The second example I'll cite is also from Chapter 1: "when in an Instant I felt above an Hundred Arrows discharged on my left Hand, which pricked me like so many Needles; and besides, they shot another Flight into the Air, as we do Bombs in Europe..."

My prescient mind took me to WWII and the bombings of Europe and London. Of course, that was NOT an image from which even Swift's imagination was able to draw. Asimov again: "The reference is to cannonballs. An early word for cannon was 'bombard,' and we still speak of 'bombardment'--hence 'bombs' for cannonballs."

[Donnally]

Tamara wrote: "Donnally wrote: "However, of all these, I think Swift stands out as the most savage..."

Why "savage"?"

Maybe savage wasn't quite the right word. Perhaps indignant would be better. The point I was trying to make is that there is nothing gentle in Swift's mockery of human frailties. In another thread there was mention of different types of satire. I'll quote two of them:

"Horatian: Horace playfully mocked the societal norms of his day, and the satire named after him is clever, yet gentle. Rather than attacking evils, Horatian satire ridicules universal human folly so that the reader might identify with what is being critiqued and laugh at him/herself as well as at society.
Juvenalian: Unlike Horace, Juvenal attacked public officials and governmental organizations through his satires. He regarded their opinions not just as wrong, but instead as evil. Juvenalian satire thus is more contemptuous and abrasive, and uses strong irony and sarcasm. Polarized political satire is often of this nature."

Swift falls more into the Juvenalian than the Horation mode, except that Swift attacks more than the public officials and the governmental regulations. He attacks human nature.

[Tamara]

Donnally wrote: "Tamara wrote: "Donnally wrote: "However, of all these, I think Swift stands out as the most savage..."

Why "savage"?"

Maybe savage wasn't quite the right word. Perhaps indignant would be better. ..."

Donnally, I get what you're saying. But I see Swift as adopting both Horatian and Juvenalian satire.

I think he sometimes does poke gentle fun at human foibles, especially our tendency to inflate our own egos. I also see him as gently poking fun at Gulliver's naiveté.

But I also see him as being pretty ruthless in his attacks on governmental institutions. His attacks here can be pretty scathing and display his lack of tolerance for their hypocrisies.

So I see both types of satire in operation here. Or am I misreading Swift?

[Lily]

"Foibles" is an interesting word. A few minutes with Google suggests to me there is little consistent about its usage, from the most innocuous of quirks to the deepest and most integral of human characteristics, including ones that are social and that belong to/arise in communities and institutions as much as to/in individuals?
E.g., the meandering, rather chaotic, essay here:
https://jwright44.com/bookhtmlfiles/R...

[Aiden]

Lily wrote: "Aiden wrote: " The modern period has produced some great satire in literature, though..."

Aiden, I'm curious what your reaction, and that of others here, would be to this biographical introduction..."

While I don’t feel the authority to agree that Swift was the best, he definitely produced some great satire along with his writing quartet that included Alexander Pope. They challenged themselves to produce great satire including works more revered than GT, but likewise more difficult to appreciate by the modern (especially non-British) reader. I would agree that he is up there with Dickens and Twain as satirists, though with varying degrees of humor or bite. Voltaire’s Candide is indeed an apt continental comparison for literary stature.

I would also second Donnally’s sentiments that Aristophanes, Moliere and Shaw make for excellent examples of great dramatic satirist of their respective cultures. The arguments of who did it best, though, I feel are best consigned to appreciative discussion, not debate.

I haven’t had as much to say in this discussion as previous ones because satire is not my bailiwick. I find epic and tragedy much more consistent with my view of the world and much more open to the serious contemplation I crave. At the same time, It’s hard for a writer not to have great respect for the master satirists who can make you not just see the world anew, but inspire their readers to effect change in those worlds.

On a side note, I thoroughly enjoyed Thomas C. Foster’s books on reading literature, poetry and novels. The 25 Books one is on my list for when I finish studying pre-Renaissance literature.