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Post by emwolfram on Dec 26, 2013 4:35:28 GMT
Nora is an complicated character because she appears to be so vapid and silly and yet be feel sympathy for her. Nora is in many ways an unlikable character because she does not stand up for herself. Yet as she plays the part of the silly obedient little housewife she is also harboring a great secret. She has broken the law and deceived her husband. This is what creates her characters depth and makes it a little more bearable for me to read.
I have to shout out to Anna for her point about Torvald possibly already knowing Nora's secret. That is what I originally thought after there unsubtle exchange at the end of the play. The dramatic irony at that point was certainly groan worthy. There hits a point where the entire dialogue feels like building irony and the story is almost comically unfortunate. Although admits our groans it is important to recognize that some stories are fueled by their straightforward nature. There is value in the extensive foreshadowing because it creates a downward spiral of misfortune that the reader can clearly follow and understand. We all can clearly see the rising problems and the building strain of Nora's secret.
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Post by robertxu on Dec 26, 2013 6:24:29 GMT
In freshman honors English, Chris Beltrone said something to the effect of “fairy-tale endings actually happen in real life”. Dramatic irony is something that we as readers often attribute to “fiction” or “fantasy-books”, however, it does happen in real life. In Oedipus Rex, the irony of a King being the murderer he is seeking seems a little far-fetched, but in A Doll’s House, Nora committing the same crime her Husband’s subordinate did is not. When Helmer says to Nora, “Practically all juvenile delinquents come from homes where the mother is dishonest” (Ibsen 1701) or “A fog of lies like that in a household, and it spreads disease and infection…” (Ibsen 1701), it is completely believable. Helmer is so pompous, verbose, judgmental, and condescending that his words perfectly fit into his persona. Helmer’s vivid voice can be seen when he says to Nora, “My little singing bird mustn’t go drooping her wings, eh? Has it got the sulks, that little squirrel of mine?” (Ibsen 1682). Helmer definitely has a flair for the dramatic, which makes his elaborate metaphors comparing lies to disease more credible. Additionally, Helmer’s judgmental side can also be seen when he says to Nora, “Just like a woman!” (Ibsen 1682) in regards to her spending habits. As a result, his comment blaming mothers for delinquent sons does not seem out of place either.
Therefore, because the dramatic irony employed in A Doll’s House does not seem out of place and perfectly fits in with the rest of Helmer’s characterization, it does not seem contrived. The dramatic irony also helps further characterize Helmer as someone who is completely clueless. It highlights the irony that the female characters are so much more sophisticated and interesting than the men who are in power.
Furthermore, dramatic irony only takes away from the work of literature if plot is a key aspect of the story. In Oedipus Rex and A Doll’s House, characterization through verbal wit and irony seem to be more integral to the work. To draw a comparison to modern day television, the viewer has a good idea of what happens to Walter and Don in Breaking Bad and Mad Men; however, he/she is still able to enjoy the moods and atmospheres created by each individual scene. Therefore, my answer is that the reader should "suspend disbelief" only if the author deserves it. If the author is able to use dramatic irony while staying true to the personalities of the characters and while still finding a way to immerse the reader in the setting, then it is justified.
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Kasey
New Member
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Post by Kasey on Dec 26, 2013 6:27:42 GMT
I'm doing this a bit late because I was celebrating and attempting to enjoy myself. See, I was busy helping my family and praising and serving and I'll probably still be doing that until January. I'm serious. My family parties hard for two weeks, and then we do nothing for the rest of the year.
As AP English student readers, I think we've been trained to recognize patterns in text and then apply those to no end. In this case, we see the wife being a little careless with her money, saying that her husband is soon to come into good wealth, and we immediately go "well thats not gonna happen". He makes a joke about being hit by an anvil and not being able to pay off debt, and we think "He's gonna die". And part of this is all of our teacher's faults, for pointing out those patterns and putting stress on them so that it's hard for us to read and NOT see the patterns; and part of it is the author's fault for setting up those patterns. When authors set up such obvious foreshadowing or irony, I tend to think "okay, are they gonna do something different just to screw with us, or are they just gonna do the same all stuff?" Usually it pans out that I had given them too much credit.
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Post by moreno on Dec 26, 2013 6:53:59 GMT
Having recently read Oedipus, it is no mystery that we find parallels between the predictability of the two pieces. Like you said, in both works, it is relatively easy to sense a resolution from the beginning. However, I do not think it is our fault if we groan or roll our eyes at this. We have been trained by the books we have read to look for things that hint at a conclusion, and thus, we have become experts at predicting outcomes. But what keeps us reading if we can guess what will happen? Like Cassie said, although the "A Doll's House" is "blatantly foreshadowing... we don't know that for sure-do we?" Although the elements of dramatic irony help us predict what will happen long before the characters can realize their fate, we read in spite of our groans because we hold on hope that we may be wrong.
Having only read the first act, I am still unsure how " A Doll's House" will play out. However, as a result of dramatic irony, I can guess that Nora's power will eventually fall (although not very far). She states, "Corrupt my children...poison my home! It's not real! It could never, never be true!" (Ibsen 1702). That's pretty blatant foreshadowing if I've ever read it. Nora's fate is almost as clear as Oedipus'. Should I be more willing to suspend my disbelief? Probably. But I also do not blame myself for a few eye rolls or groans. I keep reading hoping I'll be wrong, but I cannot excuse the fact that most stories end the way they are set up to conclude. For example...Nora's secret, after talking to Krogstad, is practically begging to be found out by her husband. Although she thinks she everything will be fine, the dramatic irony eludes otherwise.
Hope that made sense...the Christmas festivities have worn me out! But I'm actually enjoying this story and I'm excited to read the rest. Hope everyone had a wonderful and vert merry Christmas/holiday!
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amychen
New Member
“But the wild things cried, “Oh please don’t go—we’ll eat you up—we love you so!”
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Post by amychen on Dec 26, 2013 10:18:14 GMT
UGH I JUST ACCIDENTALLY BACKSPACED AWAY MY FORUM POST. Retyping now.
One morning, when Amy Chen woke from troubled dreams, she found herself transformed in her bed into a horrible vermin. She had forgotten to post on the forum, too caught up in festivities and college-essay comas.
Like Mr. Parris, Ana, and I many others, I believe A Doll's House is groan-worthy. The irony found in it is reminiscent of a gag common to today's television:
Characters: A, B, C.
A and C both buy candles for B's birthday. A gives B a candle. B tells C that A gave him a candle, and that she hates candles. C tries to go home, pretending he forgot B's present. Plot diverges: (1) B sees the present and tell's C. They have an awkward but heartwarming laugh. (2) C goes home, wraps a random object, and gives it to B. B finds the present odd and makes a comical facial expression. Roll laugh track.
If A Doll's House does anything similar to this, I will be sorely disappointed. Mostly because I am an 21st century American, and likely spoiled with T.V. derived from classic plot-lines. I'm not sure how 19th century Norwegians would have responded to the work, but I assume they had significantly less exposure to repeated classic ironic stories. When it comes to finding "resonance and meaning," it is best that we try to strip away our cultural biases and avoid viewing any work as a derivative of another, unless this viewing will be helpful to our understanding (such as in postmodern work), because our understanding of what is derivative is not really the fault of the author but the fault of other works. Sure, we can accuse the author of plagiarism, but in our search for meaning in text author plagiarism is irrelevant. After all, if I am to base my reading of A Doll's House off of my other experiences with the kind of ironic situation it uses, I would easily dismiss it and ignore the meaning to be found in how the play presents the irony, and it's subsequent drama: Nora's past struggle to balance saving the people she loves with her own integrity, her apparent spending and macaroon addiction, and the societal implications of her ironic situation.
In addition, the comparison between Oedipus and A Doll's House isn't particularly fair. Ignoring key aspects of Greek tragedy, such as fate, in our comparison, leaves a simple skeleton that isn't suitable as a tool for evaluation. Yes, they both contain irony. But as a piece of Realistic Drama, I think it is valiant that the play acknowledges that irony occurs in life. As a not-so-dramatic example of irony, my family once ate lunch at a restaurant with another family. On the way back home, we decided to go grocery shopping. We ran into the family we had eaten with about three times at different Chinese grocery stores. After each time we departed, we said goodbye, not knowing we were headed toward the same destinations.
In a nutshell: We should avoid calling works derivative if we are looking to find meaning within them. As a side note, A Doll's House isn't as derivative as we might think.
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Post by racheladele on Dec 26, 2013 20:02:22 GMT
Dramatic irony has a unique effect on readers and audience members; we feel smart and amused, knowing more than the characters and watching them struggle through. Shakespeare was prone to using this literary device, as shown by the many asides in his plays that only the audience hears/understands. Nora and Torvald’s conversation in “A Dolls’ House” makes Parris groan because the answer seems so obvious to those on the outside. I agree with Emily, as she points out that some stories are fueled by their predictability. In the case of “A Doll’s House,” we have an idea of what is going to happen, but to find out whether we are right and how things will play out, we must read on. It is the same reason that we read until the end of “A Good Man is Hard to Find.” The amount of foreshadowing in O’Connor’s short story makes the conclusion recognizable from the start and adds an element of dramatic irony, but this does not detract from the ending of the story.
I remember learning about temporary suspension of disbelief in middle school, and I think it’s a very important and fascinating ability of the human mind. When it comes to this situation, however, I can see why suspending disbelief is a challenge. Torvald and Nora’s interaction is not a new idea. This sort of situation is often used on television, and always makes Nora’s character fall into guilt. There are only a few ways that the story can go after their conversation, but I am hopeful that Ibsen will add a twist to separate “A Doll’s House” from other works containing interactions dripping with dramatic irony.
One thing I noticed about this story is the amount of manipulation between the characters. Nora is the main culprit, with her money habits and lies, but there is a power shift when we discover her forgery. Suddenly, in this conversation with Torvald, Nora doesn’t have the upper hand. Now Torvald is unknowingly manipulating his guilty wife. I think these power shifts and manipulations make the story interesting to read, even if the conversations are not the most original or complicated. The fact that the play is called “A Doll’s House” actually makes the manipulation fascinating, because no doll can move without a hand to control it.
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Post by amysohlberg on Dec 26, 2013 20:52:17 GMT
I groaned, too. My opinion might be totally off-base, but I think that only the ancient Greeks are justified in using this kind of clumsy dramatic irony. I see the Greeks as pioneers of literature. They invented dramatic irony! At the time it was an invigorating and surprising technique that the audience had never seen before. As time passes, however, I believe that artists' job is to build off of the foundations of their predecessors, to make new creations. Not to say that I think A Doll's House and Oedipus are the exact same story, but so far it feels like A Doll's House is just reworking the same literary ground. Ibsen's "Because such an atmosphere of lies infects and poisons the whole life of a home" draws a close parallel to Sophocles' "Ban him from your homes, every one of you, for he is our pollution." With that being said, the next two acts might take the story in a completely unexpected direction, but as it is, I groan. Dramatic irony is a literary strategy that holds many possibilities, but when the entire story is built off of it, it sounds too much like the Greeks.
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Post by allegra on Dec 29, 2013 2:30:55 GMT
*hides macaroons in pocket*
What I have found interesting about this work is the idea of money and how it extends throughout the first act. Torvald is getting money, Mrs. Linde needs money, and Krogstad is going to lose money because of his actions and dealings with Nora. To me, money equates to freedom in a lot of ways- the freedom to choose and the freedom to provide for yourself and others. As I understand it, it was not routine for women to have office jobs in this particular era of Sweeden, but it may not be out of the question because Mrs. Linde is looking for an office job. Most mothers, I garner, were stay-at-home moms like Nora. This doesn't offer a lot of freedom both financially or physically at all as the women were expected to look after the house and the children and whatnot. They relied on their men as pets rely on their owners for their freedom. Torvald recognizes this and uses it to his advantage as blackmail to tell Nora
"suppose I went and borrowed a thousand crowns today (about 50 dollars), and you went and spent it all over Christmas, then on New Year's Eve a slate fell and hit me on the head and there I was..."
He's keeping her both safe and restricted by telling her of this danger- safe so she won't go and borrow a bunch of money (spoilers: she already did, who didn't see that coming) and restricted so she won't be able to fully support herself financially and always be dependent on her husband.
This is sort of like Greek dramatic irony in the sense of the archetypes being already pretty much developed already (foolish woman, smart man, wise widow, stingy banker, etc) and in the way it feels as though any meaning in the text is announced in gigantic letters. But remember, this was supposed to be a play. Like in Shakespeare, a lot of things must be announced beforehand because the audience isn't really paying too much attention.
On a side note, the whole idea that women are foolish and frivolous is really making me want to tear the story out of my book and burn it. No big. Merry Christmas/ Kwanzaa though I don't think it's racially appropriate for any of us to really celebrate Kwanzaa, but yeah, celebrate!
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Post by jessicapollard on Jan 2, 2014 23:01:33 GMT
I agree with the many others (who have posted before me in a more timely manner), that the enjoy-ability factor of a work based on its ability to surprise its readers is subjective. No matter the age of the work, I personally read for language rather than plot. It isn't the actions of any certain piece of literature that excite me, but rather the manner in which it is described. In "A Doll's House", I can't help but feel the plot would stand better as prose rather than in the context of a play. I agree that the dramatic irony here is a bit eye-rollish.
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Post by naomiporter on Jan 5, 2014 4:32:29 GMT
I really like the dramatic irony that Ibsen put in "A Doll's House," and I think in some ways it is very different from the irony in "Oedipus Rex." The difference is that the dramatic irony in the two stories serve very different purposes. The irony in "A Doll's House" is important because it drives the plot forward. We do not know how the story will play out, and the irony does not give us a hint. It only increases the tension between Nora and Torvald. In "Oedipus," on the other hand, the irony basically tells us the ending at the beginning, so that while the character is struggling through the mystery of the king's death, we know all along how it will end. The irony is not there so much to move the plot forward as to make us sympathize with Oedipus more. I think this —knowing the ending in advance— makes the story focused more on Oedipus' character and reactions to the situation rather than the plot.
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Post by adamgrace on Jan 6, 2014 2:40:43 GMT
As readers, watchers, listeners, etc. we should understand and acknowledge the fact that what we are consuming is not real. It's a creative endeavor set forth by artists to extend some sort of emotional connection to the consumer. Even though we are able to discern fact from fiction in most cases, there is always a fleeting feeling of, "what if...". This instinct is present in almost everyone. It's why when we re-watch movies or re-read novels we believe that, if only for a fraction of a second, maybe Marley will live. Yet seconds later that notion is demolished with a wave of familiarity. So in short, no. It's not a personal problem to get excited about the drama present in "A Doll's House" simply because it touts about how realistic it is.
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Post by danyhong55 on Jan 6, 2014 3:58:11 GMT
Disclaimer: I was sure that all of these were due today (Sunday), so I didn’t bother to check online. Here they are. You can bet a million dollars that you should most definitely be willing to suspend your disbelief. Before I forget, one point I want to make is that though the dramatic irony may be thick and heavy already in this story, there may lie an even bigger secret that the author hides from us. Something sort of a dramatic irony of our own lives and readership — a meta-dramatic irony, if you will. For example, during Nora and Kristine’s discussion, I didn’t know who Nora’s loan-shark was, but Nora definitely know. Though my life isn’t exactly implicated in their story, I can’t help but be involved. In real-life outside of simply reading something, “dramatic irony” happens when someone knows something that pertains to me that I don’t know; they’re called secrets. It happens so often that simple lines like "an atmosphere of lies infects and poisons the whole life of a home," is something we can just groan at but only if we ignore that this piece wasn’t written today. Something like secrets and our knowing what certain characters don’t know that could destroy homes and things like that seem contrived, especially to us. The cliché feel results from an overabundance to exposure to this type of drama in modern media. From “Gossip Girl” to even Catching Fire many of us are bombarded with secrets and lies, but keep in mind that Doll’s House was written over a century ago when such media was nearly as prominent. Of course dramatic irony was alive and well at that time, but not to the extent it is today.
It seems almost pretentious to not suspend your disbelief because I can believe this scene unfolding right in front of me. The conservative mindset of the time mixed with misogynistic tendencies all make the phrase "an atmosphere of lies infects and poisons the whole life of a home," laughable, but believable.
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Post by haleyjensen on Jan 6, 2014 8:58:14 GMT
Alright, well... I'm late to this discussion, but I have arrived.
After reading the prompt, two things immediately came to my mind: archetypes, and "Happy Endings."
Like Mr. Parris and others have mentioned, there are striking similarities between our current story and "Oedipus Rex." Morgan made a good point that we are likely seeing these similarities because we read Oedipus fairly recently. I agree with this, however, I also think we see similarities because of archetypes. I didn't find this groan-worthy in the least-in fact, I am quite enjoying the story. The way Isben develops the characters makes them relatable because of the way he uses human nature to drive the plot line. Meaning, the story is centered around a mistake we've probably all made: telling a lie.
Because this archetypal theme is used across so many works of art (ranging from Greek mythology, to songs, to children's literature), I believe that authors have to add dimensions to their characters to make them interesting. Flat archetypal characters or borrrring. Isben's use of pet names in the story certainly add a quirky element to the personalities of Nora and Helmer, and add zest to the basic archetypal roles they serve in the story. (I see Nora as the character who puts on a sweet front but is tainted by her choices, and I see Helmer as an old rich man). Oedipus is another character who presents as someone more put together and sympathetic than he is in reality. However, Oedipus never called anyone "skylark", and I don't recall him constantly snacking on macaroons. As "Happy Endings" presented to us, the key to a story really isn't the what, it's the how and why. I think Isben's placing of this story is brilliant. It's Christmas laden nature goes to show that archetypal themes, such as the consequences of deception, are even present during 'the most wonderful time of the year.'
My enjoyment of this story comes from the details. They separate Isben's take from other archetypal tales, and enhance the roundness of the characters. The dramatic irony doesn't bother me because I think the other literary techniques (diction, syntax, dialogue), are so unique that Isben's and lean on an ironic universal theme as the core of his story.
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Post by haleyjensen on Jan 6, 2014 9:14:09 GMT
If Nora were a one-dimensional character, I would agree with Matt and the story's moral dilemma would be along the lines of "deceit is wrong." I also wanted to comment in something Gary said, because I referenced the same idea. Gary posits that the story's moral dilemma is not along the "deceit is wrong" because Nora isn't a one dimensional character. I found this interesting because I think I'd view the story's moral dilemma as "deceit is wrong" even if Nora was a one dimensional character. Here's how my brain determines the major moral dilemma IOC a story:I think about them in terms of a "web". The center, the starting point for the web, is determined by the character's relationship to the major conflict. Since Nora in act one tried very hard to stifle and hide the secret money problem, and her family is dependent on her, I would definitely consider the major conflict Nora's deceit. i thought Gary's answer was interesting, and mine might be helpful for a second opinion
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Post by shannonfender on Jan 17, 2014 5:43:51 GMT
To be completely honest, I don't have too much of a problem with dramatic irony. It can be a great tool if the author is crafty. Properly used, irony creates speculation and suspense without giving away the conclusion or slapping you in the face with hidden parrallels. In the case of A Doll's House, Henrik Ibsen creates a situation that has so much potential to be a great ironic moment, but it just falls short with his "in your face" approach.
After Krogstad threatens to blackmail Nora (since she forged documents in her fathers name), Torvald shows up and reveals that Krogstad himself has committed forgery. This, we learn, is what ruined Krogstad's reputation. Ibsen's use of dramatic irony in this situation is well-timed and adds a layer of complexity to the story. However, the conversation that follows is in clear violation of the "no slapping the reader in the face with your dramatic irony" rule. Torvlad says to Nora, "Just think how a man with a thing like that on his conscience will always be having to lie and cheat and dissemble; he can never drop the mask, not even with his own wife and children. And the children- that's the most terrible part of it, Nora...A fog of lies like that in a household, and it spreads disease and infection to every part of it. Every breath teh children take in that kind of house is reeking with evil germs"(1701). Some other tidbits from this conversation include, "Practically all juvenile delinquents come from homes where the mother is dishonest"(1701), and "I quite literally feel physically sick in the presence of such people"(1701). I mean, dear god, we get it. Torvald obviously dissaproves of forgery and we now know that this is inevitably going to ruin their picturesque family life. This entire exchange just felt contrite and unneccesary. Also, how exactly did the conversation turn to what would happen if a mother was dishonest? It seems like Ibsen threw that one in there for good measure and decided to roll with it.
That said, I really enjoyed A Doll's House. This particular exchange between Torvald and Nora was a bit strange, but the play as a whole was great.
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