(Asapokhai) Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned
"I love you!"
"Esch!" The skin on his throat is red, his scar white.
"I loved you!"
I hit his Adam's apple with the V where my thumb and pointer finger cross...." (p.204)
*really long irrelevant intro*
From the ancient writings in religious texts telling stories of affection strong enough to cause a man to live his life in subservience to others, only to die willingly by their hand on a cross, to legends passed down from the tongues of mothers to daughters warning about the curses that befall women who love the wrong men, to today’s inescapable, globally recognized genres–the rom-com, the chick flick, the coming-of-age drama alike–love, in its many forms and power, serves as a persistent, prevailing theme in stories about the human condition. In the 2011 novel by esteemed author Jesmyn Ward Salvage the Bones, Ward uses the transformational capacity of love as a tool to develop the protagonist of the story, Esch, and emphasizes this transformation through her connection with a fictional character from another tragic love story.
The Ancient Greek myth of the Golden Fleece begins as the standard Greek legend: a young, brave male protagonist volunteers to fulfill a perilous task; outer forces form plans for his failure that will ultimately result in death; aforementioned hero either perishes a noble man, lives in exile as coward or in shame, or lives a victor’s life, one that comes after honest maneuvering of obstacles and struggle.
start reading Here
Though the typical Greek theme of women birthing chaos and destruction does make an appearance by the conclusion of the story, the Golden Fleece challenges convention when it gives voice to the tale of Medea, a woman pure of heart, morphed and made wicked by soured love.
In this woman Esch finds a kindred spirit. Manny is her personalized Jason–a boy-king, worthy of much, the holding place of all her emotional energy and affection. The Golden Fleece he seeks is hidden between her legs, and Esch, in her enamored state, does everything and anything to help him find it, to give him access to this treasure. Just as Medea had sacrificed the life of a brother, her father's honor, and her reputation to maintain Jason's love, so does Esch strip herself of her identity, recomposing herself into a person Manny could love in the one way he knew how. She continues to reach for him despite the admonishment from her brother, whose words slips as quietly out of her ears as whispers from the dead. Furthermore, aligning himself with Jason, Manny views Esch’s body as a conquest, rather the prize; he has another girlfriend who he directs his attention to rather than the girl who asks for it, the girl who deserves–the same neglect Medea had faced when Jason proposed to the daughter of the king of Corinth. The rare moments that may suggest romance–looks from across the room, intentional avoidance of a gaze–are defiled when Manny finally rejects Esch’s attempt at love and what it had produced, a child in her stomach. This is when Esch and Medea are most alike–when their love is thrown away; when they are scorned.
“This is Medea wielding the knife,” she narrates, digging her nails in Manny’s face. “This is Medea cutting,” (p.204). The culmination of Esch’s heartbreak and unrequited love is released through her fists on his body. From the the “young pine in hard wind” (p.38) she compares Medea to earlier in the novel, malleable, without a definite shape, affected by the strength of the ouside world, Esch has evolved. She solidifies. Before she strikes him, Esch screams I love you–I loved you (p.204), and the shift is permanent. She no longer walks a dictated path–the spell cast on her, like Hera onto Medea, lifts. Even when Manny tries to shift blame and disassociate himself from her, accusing her of “(fucking) everybody on the Pit” (p.204) as a way of erasing his accountability–still, Esch remains strong in her damnation, upright. She took hold of the one thing that gave her power over Manny–her sexuality. to add to the discomfort, she does not hide the tears he has caused her. “Medea shrieked; Jason heard,” she remarks (p.205)–and Esch shrieks too, with her fingers to his face, his child in her stomach, a hand grasping his neck.
Through the allusion made to the story of the Golden Fleece, a true representation of the depth of Esch’s love for Manny is achieved. Subsequently, Esch’s character is developed through her perspective of herself. By aligning herself with a woman of power, who utilizes her power to achieve her wishes, to avenge her sorrows, Esch is given more dimensions–more goes into the description of her character than a girl left heartbroken. The allusion also illustrates the extent of the grief Manny had caused in her life, but more importantly, the strength she found in this grief–a grief that, as Medea had done, could have killed man, woman and child, if she harnessed the power.
"Esch!" The skin on his throat is red, his scar white.
"I loved you!"
I hit his Adam's apple with the V where my thumb and pointer finger cross...." (p.204)
*really long irrelevant intro*
From the ancient writings in religious texts telling stories of affection strong enough to cause a man to live his life in subservience to others, only to die willingly by their hand on a cross, to legends passed down from the tongues of mothers to daughters warning about the curses that befall women who love the wrong men, to today’s inescapable, globally recognized genres–the rom-com, the chick flick, the coming-of-age drama alike–love, in its many forms and power, serves as a persistent, prevailing theme in stories about the human condition. In the 2011 novel by esteemed author Jesmyn Ward Salvage the Bones, Ward uses the transformational capacity of love as a tool to develop the protagonist of the story, Esch, and emphasizes this transformation through her connection with a fictional character from another tragic love story.
The Ancient Greek myth of the Golden Fleece begins as the standard Greek legend: a young, brave male protagonist volunteers to fulfill a perilous task; outer forces form plans for his failure that will ultimately result in death; aforementioned hero either perishes a noble man, lives in exile as coward or in shame, or lives a victor’s life, one that comes after honest maneuvering of obstacles and struggle.
start reading Here
Though the typical Greek theme of women birthing chaos and destruction does make an appearance by the conclusion of the story, the Golden Fleece challenges convention when it gives voice to the tale of Medea, a woman pure of heart, morphed and made wicked by soured love.
In this woman Esch finds a kindred spirit. Manny is her personalized Jason–a boy-king, worthy of much, the holding place of all her emotional energy and affection. The Golden Fleece he seeks is hidden between her legs, and Esch, in her enamored state, does everything and anything to help him find it, to give him access to this treasure. Just as Medea had sacrificed the life of a brother, her father's honor, and her reputation to maintain Jason's love, so does Esch strip herself of her identity, recomposing herself into a person Manny could love in the one way he knew how. She continues to reach for him despite the admonishment from her brother, whose words slips as quietly out of her ears as whispers from the dead. Furthermore, aligning himself with Jason, Manny views Esch’s body as a conquest, rather the prize; he has another girlfriend who he directs his attention to rather than the girl who asks for it, the girl who deserves–the same neglect Medea had faced when Jason proposed to the daughter of the king of Corinth. The rare moments that may suggest romance–looks from across the room, intentional avoidance of a gaze–are defiled when Manny finally rejects Esch’s attempt at love and what it had produced, a child in her stomach. This is when Esch and Medea are most alike–when their love is thrown away; when they are scorned.
“This is Medea wielding the knife,” she narrates, digging her nails in Manny’s face. “This is Medea cutting,” (p.204). The culmination of Esch’s heartbreak and unrequited love is released through her fists on his body. From the the “young pine in hard wind” (p.38) she compares Medea to earlier in the novel, malleable, without a definite shape, affected by the strength of the ouside world, Esch has evolved. She solidifies. Before she strikes him, Esch screams I love you–I loved you (p.204), and the shift is permanent. She no longer walks a dictated path–the spell cast on her, like Hera onto Medea, lifts. Even when Manny tries to shift blame and disassociate himself from her, accusing her of “(fucking) everybody on the Pit” (p.204) as a way of erasing his accountability–still, Esch remains strong in her damnation, upright. She took hold of the one thing that gave her power over Manny–her sexuality. to add to the discomfort, she does not hide the tears he has caused her. “Medea shrieked; Jason heard,” she remarks (p.205)–and Esch shrieks too, with her fingers to his face, his child in her stomach, a hand grasping his neck.
Through the allusion made to the story of the Golden Fleece, a true representation of the depth of Esch’s love for Manny is achieved. Subsequently, Esch’s character is developed through her perspective of herself. By aligning herself with a woman of power, who utilizes her power to achieve her wishes, to avenge her sorrows, Esch is given more dimensions–more goes into the description of her character than a girl left heartbroken. The allusion also illustrates the extent of the grief Manny had caused in her life, but more importantly, the strength she found in this grief–a grief that, as Medea had done, could have killed man, woman and child, if she harnessed the power.
I don't really have anything to say, these are well thought out comparisons
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