User:JHadaway/sandbox: Difference between revisions
Added the fifth paragraph |
Added the sixth paragraph |
||
| Line 11: | Line 11: | ||
The rhetorical struggle culminates in a battle between the ''cans'' and the ''cannots''—a battle that Jig incites when she looks upon the field and the mountains and says, "And we could have all this....And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible" (213). She clearly makes this statement to spite her lover, who agrees with her that, once Jig had the abortion, they could do and have anything they wanted. Every time the American suggests something (clearly impossible) they could have or do {{pg|409|410}} post-abortion, Jig responds, "No, we can't" (213). After the American's concluding remark ("We can go everywhere"), Jig replies, "No, we can't. It isn't ours any more," and later comments that "once they take it away, you never get it back" (213). At this point Jig cements her belief in irreversibility in the face of the American, who now is at a rhetorical disadvantage and can only make impossible remarks. In these lines, Jig insists that "undoing" something—reversing something—such as the conception of life is an impossibility, for though something can be removed or killed, in the case of the fetus, ''that'' something was once present—was once a reality—and, as such, can never be truly reversed. True reversal would require Jig and the American to "forgive and forget," so to say—something that Jig, once having had life within her, cannot do. It is clear that if Jig went through with the abortion, she would never be able to view the world in the same way—nothing could ever be hers again, for she would have lost something that was truly important to her. After this exchange during which Jig seemingly wins the rhetorical battle over the potential of irreversibility, she refuses to discuss the matter anymore. Whether or not she has the abortion is open to debate, although the issue of irreversibility, once on the table, has been removed from the discussion. | The rhetorical struggle culminates in a battle between the ''cans'' and the ''cannots''—a battle that Jig incites when she looks upon the field and the mountains and says, "And we could have all this....And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible" (213). She clearly makes this statement to spite her lover, who agrees with her that, once Jig had the abortion, they could do and have anything they wanted. Every time the American suggests something (clearly impossible) they could have or do {{pg|409|410}} post-abortion, Jig responds, "No, we can't" (213). After the American's concluding remark ("We can go everywhere"), Jig replies, "No, we can't. It isn't ours any more," and later comments that "once they take it away, you never get it back" (213). At this point Jig cements her belief in irreversibility in the face of the American, who now is at a rhetorical disadvantage and can only make impossible remarks. In these lines, Jig insists that "undoing" something—reversing something—such as the conception of life is an impossibility, for though something can be removed or killed, in the case of the fetus, ''that'' something was once present—was once a reality—and, as such, can never be truly reversed. True reversal would require Jig and the American to "forgive and forget," so to say—something that Jig, once having had life within her, cannot do. It is clear that if Jig went through with the abortion, she would never be able to view the world in the same way—nothing could ever be hers again, for she would have lost something that was truly important to her. After this exchange during which Jig seemingly wins the rhetorical battle over the potential of irreversibility, she refuses to discuss the matter anymore. Whether or not she has the abortion is open to debate, although the issue of irreversibility, once on the table, has been removed from the discussion. | ||
The story concludes with Jig smiling—yet not because she has discerned the fate of her unborn child, but rather because she has asserted her beliefs regarding the notion of irreversibility and has won the rhetorical battle against her lover, the American. She "feel[s] fine," perhaps, as a result of this knowledge of rhetorical victory, rather than as a result of her thinking—at least temporarily—she will not go through with the abortion, as Hilary K. Justice and Stanley Renner say, or as a result of her being inebriated, as Phillip Sipiora suggests (25-26; 40; 50). Without knowing the fate of Jig's unborn child, the reader can surmise that Jig has successfully promoted her claims of the irreversibility of actions (particularly conceptions), while the American, although attempting to forward the reversibility of actions, has failed in such attempts. By not acting and fostering plurality through his dialogue, he is not able to utilize the two Arendtian modes of reversal that would be open to him—namely, forgiveness and the making of promises. His promises are not grounded in reality, for what he has to offer includes the whole world—a non-reality, which Jig jumps to point out. Moreover, he cannot talk Jig into forgiving him for impregnating her, nor can he "forgive" her for conceiving a child by enabling her to carry it to term. While neither {{pg|410|411}} partner agrees with the other,{{efn|As David Wyche points out, "We see that if either or both of the characters experience 'growth' throughout the course of the story, neither necessarily moves toward the other's side" (61).}} there is a clear rhetorical victor. As no concordance is reached, the reader is merely left with the conclusion that, based upon the rhetorical aspects of the text, Jig has emerged rhetorically victorious, while the American has lost control of the situation and must resort to interacting with others inside the bar and acting as Jig's porter, moving the luggage to the other side of the tracks. | |||
=== Notes === | === Notes === | ||