Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Psychology in Dancer in the Dark

At its foundation, Dancer in the Dark is essentially a character study. Selma is presented as such a pure, selfless, optimistic, and spiritual being that it becomes nearly impossible not to sympathize with her. Although sentenced for a murder she did in fact commit, the audience is aware of Selma’s driving forces—ones that the court never gets close to approaching. Selma’s actions throughout the film are done only in love, and without compromise. She becomes startlingly heroic as she refuses to break her promise with Bill, even if her testimony that he was bankrupt would save her life. Instead when asked by the court why Bill would ask her to kill him, she only says “he asked me to.” She is the epitome of selflessness, respecting Bill’s wishes even after he committed the most selfish act possible against her. Selma’s unbelievable selflessness is reflective of her optimism toward her situation. When Selma unburdens her heart to Bill, she smiles while talking about her blindness. She is relentlessly hopeful, as her hope is centered on Gene’s future. This inspiring display of moral fiber is reinforced by Selma’s unique spirituality, which is found in music. Unique musical-style interruptions intersperse the film, choreographed to Selma’s original day-dreamy soundtrack. These moments reveal Selma’s hopefulness and acknowledgement of a greater reality than the one she is part of. A particularly poignant example of her hopefulness and spirituality is found in the song “New World”, with the lines “if living is seeing, I’m holding my breath—in wonder, I wonder, what happens next? A new world, a new day to see.” She sees more in the world, although she can not physically see at all. Selma is an indisputably complex individual, so it becomes necessary to question what makes her behave the way she does in order to fully understand the film and the writer’s motives.

As prescribed by the discipline of psychology, human behavior can be interpreted in any of five varying perspectives. Particularly revealing to Selma’s situation are the biological angle, the experiential viewpoint, and the socio-cultural perspective. Selma is in an inarguably distinctive biological condition compared with those around her in the film. Her body is in itself an obstacle she must tackle. Of course, everybody is faced with particular bodily features and limitations. These aspects, however normal or unique they may seem, influence one’s way of life drastically. Selma’s life is primarily affected by her handicap and race, but even as simply being born a woman. The film makes no mention of a husband for her or any reason for having a child, but her life is almost completely guided by her actions as a mother in protecting her son. She could have avoided pregnancy with preventative actions, but even so, being a female in the first place led to her future lifestyle as a mother.

Selma's Czechoslovakian lineage became an aspect of her life that she had absolutely no control over, and one that further distinguishes her from those around her in 1960’s Washington. Although her lineage blurs the line between biological and social/environmental influences, Selma’s biology simply stems from a Czech family tree. Her lineage can be seen to affect her in several ways during the film, particularly in the realm of stereotypes. The socialist message is undoubtedly supported in the film, but characters often presuppose Selma to be communist, as in the factory scene where Norman randomly comments on sharing, addressing Selma and Kathy as “you commies.” Selma’s birth in communist Czechoslovakia also limited her potential options, as she was left with little education and few skills to use in America. This is a largely environmental concept, but with a different genealogical starting point, she may have been subject to vastly different circumstances and an immeasurably different attitude, lifestyle, and fate.

Selma’s most noticeable and plot-driving biological feature is her disease of approaching blindness. This trait was another genetic hand-me-down, one that completely altered the course of Selma’s future. However, her own blindness seems to be secondary to the fact that Gene will suffer the same fate without surgical intervention. Still, Selma’s behavior is significantly altered by her own experience in a quickly darkening world. She finds herself unable to walk home easily, work, watch a movie, and to even pour herself a drink without her vision. Her psychological experience quickly turns inward, and physical blindness does not hinder her from experience. She does not lament, but instead sings, “I’ve seen it all—there is no more to see!”

The disability only increases Selma's spiritual tie to music and sound. When in an isolated cell, she finds herself hopeless in such a soundless environment. But when she sings to herself and listens to the ventilation, she can find a much needed solace from her desolate reality. The genetic aspect of her disease affects Selma more through her concern for Gene than for herself. She acknowledges that she knew Gene would have the same disease when he was born, but had him anyways. To compensate for what she considers to be her fault, she spends her American life saving money for Gene’s surgery. This biologically-driven motivation is as equally vital to the plot as is capitalism. Where Bill is concerned with his socioeconomic standing, Selma is concerned with her son’s wellbeing. These vastly different motivations construct the tragic outcome of Bill’s death and Selma’s condemnation. Still, Selma never complains or compromises in her pursuit to save Gene. Actually, the biological disease eventually becomes so entrenched in Selma’s life that it gives meaning to her existence.

In an interesting intersection of biological and experiential psychological perspectives, Selma finds meaning for herself within her disorder. It is not a stretch to say that Selma’s optimism and overall strength of character are built upon her personal answers to significant existential concerns. Stevens gives three existential concerns as “the experience of time (and finiteness), the capacity to choose, and the need for meaningfulness” (154). Selma is surely aware of her own being, and in the space of this film alone she is forced to reconcile with all three aforementioned issues. Meaning in Selma’s life is grounded in her need to redeem Gene’s life and have him “see his grandchildren.” Not only does she overwork herself and struggle as a blind woman in capitalist America, but when faced with the option of using her money to buy a lawyer and effectively save her life or to buy Gene’s surgery, she sacrifices her life to pay for Gene. Selma is also forced to confront her finiteness as a human being while waiting for her execution. When her time is up, she becomes so afraid for her life that she can barely walk, and faints before having the noose around her neck. But when Kathy tells her that Gene had received the surgery and would be able to see his grandchildren, Selma stops crying entirely, calms down, and sings “Dear Gene, of course you are here/ And now it's nothing to fear/ I should have known/ I was never alone”, a moving episode where she finds self-actualization before her death.

A final psychological approach to Selma’s behavior is the socio-cultural perspective. Many relevant cultural details have already been mentioned, all having to do with Selma’s experience as a Czech immigrant in 1960’s America. She is forced to exist within a cultural divide, and is often subject to stereotyping. The largest gap between her original culture and new home is the socialist difference. Selma might have even constructed her vision of America based around her views of it in musicals, as evident in her words, “I saw in a musical a house just like yours and I thought ‘how nice it must be in America’.” The media representation of American culture can be seen as a social construct because it is an invented concept of culture. Selma perceived American musicals from her background in Czechoslovakia and simply deduced it as reality. Unfortunately, Selma’s life in America was much more tragic than the lives she had enjoyed in the cinema. She was subject to socio-cultural stereotyping, especially in her trial as one attorney described her as “a fundamentally selfish and communistic individual who cynically hides behind a handicap.” Of course, Selma was quite the opposite. But the socio-cultural difference and situation led everyone around her to assume that she was guilty of petty theft and cold-blooded murder.

Dancer in the Dark is a unique study that offers many insights into the realms of political-science and psychology, as well as finding a middle ground where the two meet. The socio-cultural perspective in and of itself seems to focus on this middle ground. Still, there is more to be said on the subject. One significant venue for combining personality with politics is in Selma’s trial, where Selma is stereotyped and condemned. Although she is shown to be optimistic despite her blindness and the most selfless being imaginable, the court still critiques her as “selfish” and “merciless” in her crime. Bill, on the other hand, is left alone as a kind and generous neighbor. This skewed perspective of each character is possible through the fundamental attribution error, where Selma is simply dismissed as the evil perpetrator and Bill the innocent victim. Such an attribution error is then used as evidence to sentence her to death. Really, the film blends the two disciplines so entirely that Selma could only face the same fate in her particular situation of threatening capitalism (political in nature) colliding with her pursuit of personal existential meaning (psychological in nature).

A point could even be made to argue that Selma’s biological blindness symbolizes the need for community for survival, as she would become more and more dependant on others for help. But as the film pans out, it is clear that her environment is unwilling to help. Nevertheless, the political shortcomings she faces do not kill her spirit. She even sings out to the audience, “this is not the last song,” implying that the story goes on forever. And her meaning is found in that realization. The film’s great tragedy is only skin deep, as Selma breaches the lines between her reality as a fictional character and the audience’s reality. She had told Bill earlier in the film, “Isn’t that annoying when they do the last song [in musicals]? You just know it’s going to end? I hate that. I would leave the cinema just after the next to last song, and the film would just go on forever.” With that in mind, the director clearly wants the viewer to take the film’s final words with them, to absorb them and remember them. They are the words of Selma herself, dead in body but alive in spirit.

“They say it’s the last song

They don’t know us, you see

It’s only the last song

If we let it be.”

Social Epistemology Article Précis

Classical epistemology is focused on the individual cognitive agent’s relation to acquiring knowledge, which is typically categorized as justified true belief. Although theories concerning the acquirement of knowledge are of the utmost importance, social epistemologists wish to emphasize another aspect of epistemology based on the role of knowledge for groups of people, or, the social aspect of epistemology. Of significant importance to social epistemology is the role of testimony: testimony makes up most of the knowledge spread through education and works to assure the learner of the truth of what she cannot experience firsthand. Furthermore, social epistemology works to understand and critique the nature of truth itself by asking if truth is simply what the majority claims to be the truth. This is social epistemology’s primary goal: because every individual is influenced by social factors and therefore is not capable of pure rationalization, the role of social influence must be taken into an account for an accurate picture of the pursuit of truth.

Some approaches to social epistemology maintain the classical epistemic goal by analyzing societal impact on truth-acquirement and justification. An alternate approach, however, does not concern itself with these concepts, but instead pursues a more relativistic approach to knowledge by claiming that knowledge is what is accepted by a particular group as knowledge. Alvin Goldman’s early work in social epistemology is an example of the first type of approach which maintains the classical epistemic goal. His attitude focuses on the value of true beliefs and proposes that social practices should be judged by how well they form true beliefs. This normative approach to social epistemology focuses on truth as the guiding force, as do some other social epistemological theories. Such an approach requires an appropriate perspective on how one should properly accept testimony—for, if the guiding principle is truth, any social pursuit of the truth must be aware of the trustworthiness of testimonial propositions.

Other approaches to social epistemology do not consider, as Goldman states, “such classical concerns of epistemology as truth, justification, and rationality” (12). Instead, these alternate approaches utilize different disciplines, sociology for example, to understand a particular society or group’s “norms of rationality” (12). According to these ideas, knowledge and true belief are not objectively found through pure rationalism, but all claims of truth are contextual and bound up in societal standards. This can be seen in scientific practice, as much of science is done under the influence of societal, cultural, and political factors. Although this disturbs the traditional understanding of science, the social epistemologist works to understand how those influencing factors affect the resulting conclusions.

Social epistemology has many tasks set before it. Among these tasks, it should adequately address the most favorable group situation to arrive at truth, justification, or rational action. Furthermore, it is unclear whether a group should be counted as holding a belief, especially since many of its constitutive members may disagree with that belief. This is a challenge to social epistemology, especially in terms of an appropriate epistemic goal: groups often make decisions not based on truth, but on various other reasons. Social epistemology must also consider issues of testimony, especially in cases where it is, or at least seems, reasonable to accept the evidence of either of two disagreeing experts. At its core, social epistemology must discuss the role of objective truth, or whether there is objective truth, among all of the influences of group and societal standards.

Theory of Descriptions Précis

Bertrand Russell’s Theory of Descriptions seeks to clarify what sorts of knowledge are conveyed through the use of language. As he explains, knowledge is to be understood in two ways: knowledge through “acquaintance” and knowledge through “description”. This distinction is pivotal to epistemology and language both, since it clearly shows that we are capable of knowledge without the necessity of immediate experience and that we can speak of abstract things with confidence in their meaning and significance.

Knowledge through “acquaintance” is very much how it sounds—the firsthand knowledge we have through experience. There is no need to appeal to “knowledge of truth” to know its value—they are immediately known (for example, while reading this paper, you have the visual experience of black words on the screen. The experience tells you nothing about those colors so the colors themselves can be doubted as entities, but the experience itself is indubitable). Knowledge by acquaintance is foundational for knowledge, and includes the knowledge we can have by acquaintance with memory, introspection, and self-consciousness (186).

In addition to the things we can know by acquaintance, we can know conceptual things, universals, through “knowledge by description” (187). Knowledge by description allows us to discuss things we are not immediately acquainted with. In Russell’s theory, even a proper name is only really representative of a description. This is because of the limits of human knowledge—we can’t be sure of what things truly are, so we are simply left with our experience of the objects or concepts. Thusly, I am the only one that can use my name in a “direct” sense, since I am properly acquainted with myself and use it in a complete sense which truly designates me (188). Everyone else, on the other hand, uses my name as a representation of my descriptors. My name could mean different things to different people, so whenever it is used (except, presumably, by my self), it is simply being used as to make a statement involving the description rather than the actual me. This is the way it should be, according to Russell. The problem is that many people use language mistakenly by attributing actuality to the objects they are asserting. Still, acquaintance is required for knowledge, for “every proposition which we can understand must be composed wholly of constituents with which we are acquainted” (189).

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Eliot

"And I have known the eyes already, known them all--
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?"

T.S. Eliot

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Recipe

milan's recipe for a tasty pasta dish:

1. Cook the pasta. 2. Take some salami/sausage and stir-fry it until it's crispy. 3. Mix the pasta with tuna in oil (one can), the salami/sausage, some cheese (gouda, emental, eidam, green cheese etc.) and with Mexican vegetable (you can buy a special mixture of Mexican vegetable, if not, just use some red beans, peas, corn and baby-carrot). 4. Put some sour cream on it. 5. Put some basil on it. 6. Serve the pasta a la Milan to the hungry Ryan :)

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Hergé Museum

i went off on a solo trip today to Louvain-la-Neuve (a confusingly named sister city to Louvain (which is the French version name of Leuven)). reason for going to Louvain-la-Neuve: the super fresh Hergé museum that was officially opened just last month. it was so so so nice, such a pretty building and nice museum. i'm glad they put so much money and effort into the museum, considering how great Hergé was.

not allowed to take pictures inside but here are pictures of the building itself (so cool, in my opinion):