rishi
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Posts: 38
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Post by rishi on Dec 24, 2013 19:58:46 GMT
I absolutely loved Ibsen's use of dramatic irony in the Act I of A Doll's House. As of right now, I am convinced that there is still the possibility that Torvald will not discover Nora's forgery, and even though I know that Torvald will most likely find out, the dramatic irony keeps me interested in the play. But the ways you and I feel about the play are entirely subjective, so I completely understand your groans at Ibsen's dramatic irony.
Our differences in reactions towards the dramatic irony are due to our differences as readers. I really like what Keely said: you have read and analyzed many more works of literature than I have, so you have become used to seeing "tricks" such as dramatic irony. In your perspective, these "tricks" are not anything original, so that is why you groan at them. Meanwhile, I have not read many stories that utilize dramatic irony, so it is still fairly new and effective in my perspective. To answer your question, this is entirely your problem, but it's not something you chose to be your problem. In other words, it was your choice to be an avid reader (that's your "problem"), but I don't think that you intended for your reading to negatively interfere with your reactions to future stories.
Whether or not you should suspend your disbelief depends on perspective. A reader response critic would say that your disbelief is entirely valid in your interpretation of the story, but you, as a formalist, should suspend your disbelief and interpret dramatic irony as just another tool that Ibsen uses in his play. Who cares if it's original? What matters is that you were "excited by the narrative possibilities." You found that dramatic irony was effective even though you groaned at it.
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Post by hannahlewman on Dec 24, 2013 20:03:11 GMT
Maybe I'm giving the writer too much responsibility, but I honestly think the reader has no obligation to suspend disbelief or go along with the corniness. The writer is the one controlling the narrative, after all. If you, dear reader, have no idea why anyone would think this text is cheesy, let me give a brief example. At one point Helmer states, "There can be no freedom or beauty about a home life that depends on borrowing and debt"(Ibsen) and shortly after Nora states, "...how painful and humiliating it would be for Torvald, with his manly independence, to know that he owed me anything!"(Ibsen). That first quote was acceptable in isolation, but as soon as I read the second the whole story started to feel contrived and fake. In fact, the whole story feels plastic and pretend like a.... doll house (dun dun dunnnnn). So while the reader has no obligation to suspend disbelief, maybe he or she should consider that this fakeness is purposeful and serves a greater meaning, which I'm sure will become clear soon enough.
SIDE NOTE: I'm very bad at predicting the ending of stories, even really cliche or contrived ones. Here is what I assumed would happen in this one: Nora will do anything for money. Nora made up her debt by acting as Krogstad's prostitute. The secret he was going to reveal is that one of the children is actually the love child of Krogstad and Nora. Also, part of Nora's money came from acting as a hit(wo)man. She helped kill Mrs. Linde's husband and Krogstad's wife. The reason people don't trust Krogstad is because his wife disappeared under mysterious circumstances and they suspect him.
I like my version of the story better.
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Post by elizabethmeyer on Dec 24, 2013 20:17:28 GMT
Like Betsy, I get rather annoyed with a story when I can predict the basic direction of the plot from the beginning - maybe not all the details along the way, but at least the end result. With this story however, I still think there are a few different ways that it could go, like Lauren said. What really annoyed me instead was Nora's pathetic personality. She's so shallow and her self-confidence is clearly lacking! She's always asking others for confirmation and assurance, like when Mrs. Linde came and she asked her if two hundred and fifty dollars was a lot, after already having said that it was a lot of money. I think the dramatic irony of Nora's situation becoming Krogstad's situation and having Krogstad involved once again just makes this pathetic "song-bird" all the more feeble. Hopefully she will either change her ways and learn from her and Krogstad's mistakes (unlikely, but it could happen, right?) or she will just end up repeating Krogstad's mistakes. Also, why is it that Ibsen put that little jibe in about the mother having more (bad) influence on the house than the father, and then trying to turn it around by saying that the father's bad influence would turn out the same as the mother's if it was there?
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Post by fionabyrne on Dec 24, 2013 21:43:01 GMT
I cannot decide if this story feels new or old to me. I have never read a story about this subject before, but it still feels very familiar. I can only attribute that familiarity to my exposure to dramatic irony and the blackmail conundrum. Every Disney Channel original series has had between one and twelve episodes devoted to the classic image of the tiny fib that grows exponentially. The difference with "A Doll's House" is that I don't foresee it ending with a moral about honesty and forgiveness. As I write this I realize that in Torvald's world, things may be that simple. What made me shake my head was not how contrived the story seems but how blatant the commentary is. Nora and Krogstad clearly illustrate a point: "Krogstad- The law cares nothing about motives. Nora- Then it must be a very foolish law" and Nora says, "I don't believe it. Is a daughter not to be allowed to spare her dying father anxiety and care? Is a wife not to be allowed to save her husband's life? I don't know much about law; but I am certain that there must be laws permitting such things as that. Have you no knowledge of such laws—you who are a lawyer? You must be a very poor lawyer, Mr. Krogstad." For one, I feel like I am supposed to be laughing here, like "haha what a naïve girl, how like a woman!" and I am not. But I won't go into that now. What also bothers me is that the commentary is so flat and basic. I am curious to see if this is a theme that will continue through the play or if it is only in the first act.
Side note: the relationship between Torvald and Nora is very interesting and reminded me of the relationship between Bruce Willis and Maria de Medeiros in Pulp Fiction.
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Post by austinellerbruch on Dec 24, 2013 21:59:30 GMT
Reading your question has brought back memories of a previous discussion: why do choose to experience a work of tragedy over and over again when we know what the outcome will be every time? That exact question is being imposed here in A Doll's House. We can all see what's coming at the resolution of the play as Nora is exposed of her moral dishonesties and condemned in the fire that is to come. So, if we know what's going to happen at the end, why are we still intrigued enough to read the play? I think its to experience those feelings of a tragedy without truly experiencing the tragedy itself. Why do we go see Titanic, so that we can experience the sensation of going down with the ship over and over again and coming out alive every time. Why do we read A Doll's House if we know already what is in store for us, it is curiosity. Although we do know what the result will be, we do not the juicy details in between that will cause that result to lay out. Additionally, we know the story will provide us that sensation of tragedy that we crave, thanks to the foreshadowing of dramatic irony.
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Post by jamiezimmerman on Dec 24, 2013 22:17:47 GMT
I don't think there is ever such a thing as growing weary of dramatic irony - in fact, we rarely ever find such engaging literature that is also devoid of dramatic irony. Dramatic irony may have seemed lofty and distant in Oedipus Rex. He was a king who spent his life avoiding his prophecy cast by the Fates, only to succumb to his humanly weaknesses. However, Oedipus' story becomes much more realistic and personable in Nora's condition, especially under Ibsen's label as a Realist. Nora has done everything she can to avoid a terrible fate of divulging her secret to Torvald. But her secret is starting to unravel, and right in front of Torvald, as she lies to her husband and children. Krogstad spells out her impending doom when he says, "My own offence was no more and now worse than that, and it ruined my entire reputation" (Ibsen 1698). I agree with Ana when she mentions Krogstad and Nora are practically the same person, so we can apply Krogstad's circumstance to Nora. Yet it may not be this way. Nora might not fall to the terrible fate that befell Krogstad. Unlike Oedipus Rex, A Doll's House has none of that lofty, ancient value of Greek tragedy. Moreover, A Doll's House is Realistic. Though it is laced with dramatic irony every way you turn, I feel it is unlikely for Nora's fate to be entirely bad or entirely good. A Doll's House is a work of realism, not naturalism as explained in the beginning of the chapter, which explores the "brutal or unpleasant aspects of reality" (1678). Furthermore, there are hundreds of little details that make the work highly plausible. It's Christmas Eve, an old friend comes to visit and ask for a job because she is down on her luck, Nora has a loving husband who has just been promoted, offering the family some financial hope, and of course there is one villain - Krogstad who informs Nora he knows of her fraud. Finally, A Doll's House is different from Oedipus in that Nora has the opportunity to prevent a terrible fate before it comes to her. She knows that what she has done is evil, and now she will hopefully act on it.
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Post by jennyxu on Dec 25, 2013 0:17:49 GMT
The sense of resolution created by the dramatic irony almost limits the possibilities for the narration. Torvald's lines forcibly set up a foreshadow to the impending doom that faces Nora. Even when he berates Krogstad, he mentions, "Practically all juvenile delinquents come from homes where the mother is dishonest" (1701). It directly points the accusation towards Nora, even though, supposedly, he is completely oblivious to Nora's secrets. It takes away from the resonance of a piece of "realistic drama", for the plot relies too heavily on a device that fails to mirror reality. Torvald's words serve the same effect upon Nora as the prophet's fortune serve upon Oedipus. Without the prophecy, Oedipus would have committed different actions, therefore, the prophecy creates the tragedy. In the same way, Nora now has Torvald's words in the back of her head as she makes decisions that will change her fate. But perhaps, as readers, we can still find resonance in such a piece, much as dramatic irony serves a purpose for Oedipus Rex. With the use of predictable and unnatural narration, the focus shifts to character qualities, rather than the plot. Following the archetype, the story probably ends in tragedy, but instead, we can examine the effect of society on the characters' actions. Other than the lines of dramatic irony, Torvald's attitude towards the role of women at home and in society also affect Nora's fate. The dramatic irony might serve to build up other issues that realistic dramas aim to portray and expose.
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Post by juliamoreland on Dec 25, 2013 1:07:55 GMT
When I read the conversation between Helmer and Nora I started laughing. Perhaps it’s the holiday spirit infecting me, or perhaps it’s because this is a play meant for entertainment. We do not need to suspend disbelief. I picture this play on stage with overly dramatic actors who make the entire play seem hilariously ridiculous. Helmer talks about poisoning the children and I picture Nora’s face poised perfectly with horror. The dramatic irony is essential to making this funny. When we begin to entangle ourselves with reality, however, is where things become complicated.
The most humorous things have the opportunity to tell the most about a society. A wife with a face reserved for her husband, the children and the nanny, a little doll house topped with vacation, and money. I do not feel as though I have enough to know what this humor is going to reflect in our society, but I am waiting for it to happen. Even though this piece relies on the irony and characters, it still has time to make an impression.
In Oedipus, I was the one groaning. All elements seemed too far away for me to draw any connections. Now, I am seeing Oedipus come back alive in A Doll’s House. Nora works her best to hide her husband from her secret, and then somehow, events seem to line up in an awfully perfect order. I’m intrigued to how this story goes, and everyone should really try picturing overdramatic characters acting this out.
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Post by clairem on Dec 25, 2013 1:10:08 GMT
I, like many of the comments here have stated, truly enjoyed the dramatic irony the Ibsen places in "A Doll's House"; similar to Rishi, I have bought into this irony and it is keeping me curious about how the rest of the story will play out. Our perceptions of dramatic irony are completely dependent on a few different factors including our length of time as a literary critic and our personal experiences. A combination of these different factors can paint the techniques an author uses in different lights. Where Ruby discovered Nora to be a sympathetic and rather childish character at the end of Nora and Torvald's conversation, Fiona found herself yawning as if she had heard this same set-up before and wasn't fooled by Ibsen. These different reactions are interesting to compare because Ruby's fresh-eyed view of Ibsen's writing and dramatic irony didn't match with Fiona's been there done that point of view. I feel that I relate more to Ruby as I have less pre-programmed views of dramatic irony and writing like this, thus I am enthralled and interested to see what happens next with these characters.
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Post by natalieskowlund on Dec 25, 2013 1:23:07 GMT
I don't think that just because something is made obvious it necessarily detracts from the story as a whole. In fact, I think sometimes using dramatic irony and other tactics to blatantly point out a major conflict or lead readers to foreshadow the plot a certain way actually leaves a more lasting impression in the end because readers can focus more on the nuances of the story, and not have to search for the details of the major plot points. Just as Sophocles does in "Oedipus," Ibsen sets up a conflict that contrasts tremendously with the social and moral acceptability of the main characters. Furthermore, he makes this conflict extremely evident through the comparison between Nora and Torvald's conventional family setup and the more abnormal, under-the-table dialogue between Nora and Krogstad. Like a doll's house, things may look perfect on the outside, but take a closer look and you might notice some flaws that are not immediately apparent.
I liked Hannah's suggestion that perhaps the play is supposed to come off a bit contrived and overly-obvious, mimicking the superficiality associated with a doll's house. Just as the plot lines that most often go on in a doll's house are stereotypical, maybe Ibsen purposefully made the play seem too obvious in parts in order to make a statement about what society tends to associate with a conventional nuclear family. Although I have only read the first act, I suspect Ibsen may be trying to expose the stuff beneath the surface that society tends to deny exists in a perfect, Barbie-like family. I really enjoyed the first act--the obviousness of the plot didn't bother me one bit--and I'm excited to see where Ibsen takes it!
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Post by fionabyrne on Dec 25, 2013 1:39:13 GMT
I cannot decide if this story feels new or old to me. I have never read a story about this subject before, but it still feels very familiar. I can only attribute that familiarity to my exposure to dramatic irony and the blackmail conundrum. Every Disney Channel original series has had between one and twelve episodes devoted to the classic image of the tiny fib that grows exponentially. The difference with "A Doll's House" is that I don't foresee it ending with a moral about honesty and forgiveness. As I write this I realize that in Torvald's world, things may be that simple. What made me shake my head was not how contrived the story seems but how blatant the commentary is. Nora and Krogstad clearly illustrate a point: "Krogstad- The law cares nothing about motives. Nora- Then it must be a very foolish law" and Nora says, "I don't believe it. Is a daughter not to be allowed to spare her dying father anxiety and care? Is a wife not to be allowed to save her husband's life? I don't know much about law; but I am certain that there must be laws permitting such things as that. Have you no knowledge of such laws—you who are a lawyer? You must be a very poor lawyer, Mr. Krogstad." For one, I feel like I am supposed to be laughing here, like "haha what a naïve girl, how like a woman!" and I am not. But I won't go into that now. What also bothers me is that the commentary is so flat and basic. I am curious to see if this is a theme that will continue through the play or if it is only in the first act.
Side note: the relationship between Torvald and Nora is very interesting and reminded me of the relationship between Bruce Willis and Maria de Medeiros in Pulp Fiction.
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Post by chrisb on Dec 25, 2013 2:05:27 GMT
While "A Doll's House" is certainly a demonstration of dramatic irony, the reader's response to the play speaks to even greater truths of storytelling. Earlier this year on Lincoln's Heaven, we discussed the power of tragedy. If the movie "Titanic" is so sad, why do we enjoy watching it? Now, the topic of dramatic irony brings us to a very similar question. If we know what's going to happen in the movie "Titanic," why do we watch it again and again? Although "Titanic" differs from "Oedipus Rex" and "A Doll's House" in that it is not founded on a build-up of dramatic irony, our adoration of the story produces the same effect. When you know exactly how a plot is going to unfold, the movie becomes as dramatically ironic as any Greek drama the next time you watch it.
That said, understanding the power (and purpose) of dramatic irony lies in our tendency to watch "Titanic" several times. The story evokes a strong emotional response - one that is pleasing (albeit melancholy) to the audience every time. Of course, not every story is as evocative as "Titanic." In my opinion, modern readers continue to read "Oedipus Rex" because it is an impressively well-crafted portrayal of the demise that can befall any man so suddenly. Thus, each story that successfully champions dramatic irony must have a perk - it can be anything, as long as it is worth reading (or watching) again. I suspect many works of literature have employed dramatic irony without supplying the treat for the reader. In these cases, the work becomes nothing more than a predictable story that can be put down after one read. On the other hand, the fact that we are reading "A Doll's House" in the first place indicates that Ibsen has something in store for the readers, and I look forward to discovering exactly what it is as I forge ahead to the next acts.
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Post by mitralebuhn on Dec 25, 2013 2:39:38 GMT
I really like what Jessica had to say. I think is important to take a story as it is. The dramatic irony may be obvious and make the story predictable, but I feel that the most surprising stories appear when we have an expectation in this beginning. Sheridan made the interesting point that Nora doesn't have very far to fall, so she is an interesting character choice for this story to focus on. This could be the case, and Nora may be the one to ultimately fall, but with so much of the story left I could see a major plot twist occurring and someone of higher status may lose power instead of her. There are a lot of options here. Often I find dramatic irony to be a little limiting, like the plot is stuck on a railroad track. Something pops up and ends up being surprising, but it's a little constricted. Because we are only into the first act of the play, there is great potential to fall of the tracks and for something really exciting (for the reader that is) to occur. All in all, there is meaning in everything. "Oedipus" and "A Doll's House" both have something to offer the reader, and although they share the use of dramatic irony, I believe the type of stories that they are and the genres they fall into will resonate with us readers in a very different way from one another.
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Post by davidqin on Dec 25, 2013 3:14:23 GMT
I'm quite fine with the contrived use of dramatic irony in the first act. Considering there's still two acts left, I think that the amount of material left in the play allows for many possibilities through which Ibsen can resolve the story. I believe his use of dramatic irony, especially in the conversation between Nora and Torvald when they talk about "A fog of lies like that in a household...Practically all juvenile delinquents come from homes where the mother is dishonest" (1701), sets up a strong launching point for the rest of the play to develop. Like what Rishi and Austin have said before me, probably Torvald will discover the fog of lies within his own home, and that fulfills the archetype of the lie always coming out in the end. Yes, we probably know what's going to happen, but there's always the chance that Ibsen has some sneaky plot twist in store for us. It's that sense of anticipation that further contributes to the tension in play, which is already stoked by the dramatic irony. Furthermore, it's that anticipation for the plot details that haven't been filled in yet that drives us back to these works of drama and literature even if we know exactly how they will end. Psychologically, I think that can be explained by our propensity toward the random and unmeasured reward. We like fulfillment, and even more so when it comes at unexpected intervals. That way, Ibsen's play is almost like a slot machine. We know we'll lose in the end, but it's the prospect of winning (or finding out the little gaps in the story we don't know yet) that entices us.
Yes, the anthology calls A Doll's House a striking example of realism in drama, but I think that even if it aspires to represent real life, it is still fundamentally a work of art and artistic license was used to create a work that is aesthetically pleasing. I don't blame Ibsen for using such heavy dramatic irony to cement the subsequent parts of his story. Isn't a work of art meant to engage the audience? Dramatic irony is a device that subtly breaks the fourth wall (dents it?) and allows for the audience and the play to interact. Without it, the play becomes distant and the audience just falls asleep. We're kept on the edge of our seats because we are interacting with the work of art itself, in the same way a reader-response critic reacts to a book or a painting. In closing, I want to add that Ibsen's work of realistic drama may not be realistic from the sense that it uses dramatic irony to tickle the audience and shine a spotlight on Nora's shortcomings, but it definitely still portrays a very real version of family drama and lying. The manner in which he represents society may not be realistic, but what is being portrayed is true, exposing for the audience what lies can do to families. No groans for me, only the quiet anticipation for what's to come in the next two acts!
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Post by pjharris on Dec 25, 2013 3:16:38 GMT
I think the amount you should suspend your sense of contrivance depends on how you want to read the story. Yes, we love literature and we love to enjoy it, but sometimes as we read a piece we just feel like it's a good one to poke some holes in! If you would like to get to the end of this play and think, "Wow! That was a really great story and it should be declared as fantastic to all!" then you need to take some extra effort to put your own sense of what is contrived behind you. In my general case, however, when I get to the end of a piece and think, "Wow! That was a really great story and it should be declared as fantastic to all!" I get a little confused and think I must be wrong and have missed something (similar to when on a test you get 9 "None of the above"'s in a row and you start to panic because you just know you did something wrong). Therefore, I like to keep all my "contrivance" radars in the ON position as I read. I have not read the other two acts yet, but I do not think that it is a bad thing to groan a bit at the beginning. I do not think a little bit of contrivance will ruin this book. I have faith in your reading assignments Mr. Parris!
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