What I Find from Robinson Crusoe
...m to be making this voyage. That certain activities are restricted to certain classes of people in certain states of mind indicates how regimented the society is. A modern day reader can admire the narrator in the very least for attempting to break out of these expectations. His voice is factual and tuned to details. Most importantly, it is an individual voice. Robinson speaks for himself and himself alone. How successful Crusoe is, however, is a matter of dispute. Primarily, the tone of the narration is flatly morose and fatalistic. The narrator is always prefacing his descriptions with comments about what is eventually going to happen: "Had I had sense I would have gone home," "It was my great misfortune that I did not ship myself as a sailor," etc. The reader understands from the start that the story will not work out as Robinson had initially hoped. Alongside any good things that happen in the moment, we are waiting for the impending doom to strike. It is difficult for us to have any hope when Robinson himself has none. Throughout this first part he constantly wavers as to whether or not he made the right decision in running away from home, which is due to the fact that his personality is simply wavering and uncertain. The image of the bobbing sea, constant only in its changes, correlates well to Robinson's persona. His sense of agency comes in spurts of movement. At first he decides to run away, but confesses the plan to his mother. When he saw that he would not be able to get his father's consent, he steals away secretly on the voyage to London. The reader wonders why he bothered to try convincing his parents in the first place. His decisive actions are brief at best. As soon as he is on the ship, he becomes ill, fearful, and regrets leaving. As soon as the weather lightens up, he is happy. Robinson's impressionable youth is apparent in this inability to stay rooted to one emotion or decision. His refusal to go home because he does not want to suffer embarrassment and laughter from the neighbors gives new meaning to the cliché cutting off the nose to spite the face. Robinson is all too willing to take on roles such as sailor and trader with which he has no experience. Clearly he does not know who he is, or who he is supposed to be. We cannot ever be sure that he has faith in himself. This lack of confidence paints a very timid picture of the narrator. It is a picture, though, of who Robinson used to be. The disparity between the narrator and the character he describes is crucial to note. At many moments we cannot help thinking that Robinson has truly made a mistake in leaving; but it appears that the narrator agrees with us sometimes. The Christian in This Book Generally, we see that there is a major sense of class superiority. Robinson has a "European servant" and a "Negro slave" on his plantation. We are supposed to assume that one is better than the other. The basis of such distinctions is rooted in religion. Defoe introduces what is perhaps the most important background component to the story--the role of Christianity, particularly as it connects to relationships with other people. What appears to be a friendship between Robinson and Xury is turned into a common master-slave relationship when Crusoe decides to part with him so that Xury will be Christian in ten years' time. The fact that he is willing to forsake his companion in this manner indicates how strongly the Christian faith is entrenched within him. Essentially it is the driving force behind this decision. The business-like friendship is further emphasized when the narrator procures a plantation in Brazil. Astounded by the hard work, he wishes dearly for "his boy Xury." The diction of this line demonstrates the possessiveness toward Robinson's companion. Ironically, he only longs for his company when there is back-breaking labor to be done. It appears that Xury's un-Christian status degrades him in the eyes of the narrator and the author. Lack of Christian doctrine and teachings becomes a symbol of ignorance and inferiority. When the captain offers to purchase Xury, he is truly playing the part of a savior, at least in Defoe's mind. Modern day readers cannot help but see this as slightly sarcastic: slavery is not often a device of deliverance. However, the author probably did not intend this reading. Xury is happy, even grateful to forsake his freedom; we must believe for the purposes of this novel that Christianity is the proper walk of life. "Deliverance" is a word that appears throughout the book. It is introduced to us in this part as the action of Providence. The author seems to define Providence as an ephemeral being, a personification of Christianity's ideals that has the power to decide the fate of its followers. Robinson uses this concept to justify the course of events that befall him. It is responsible for the kind sea captain who takes Robinson abroad and delivers him to South America, for Robinson's extremely good fortune in purchasing a plantation and amassing wealth. In many respects, he is still a child, depending on the kindness of strangers. Providence, together with Nature, is the temptation that leads him out of his safe, rich haven and onto another sea voyage. Once again, the sea becomes a symbol of trouble and turmoil. Each time Robinson ventures into the ocean, he is punished; first slavery, now a shipwreck. This sentiment is heightened by the fact that the rest of the crew perishes when they might have survived. It is as if the narrator is singled out to suffer. Once more, he laments that he did not heed his father's advice. Yet he is not yet willing to take entire responsibility for his decisions. The will of Providence becomes a convenient escape from the simple fact that Robinson chooses to be on this island through his own mistaken reasoning and greediness. Plantation money was not enough for him; he needed to try and engage in the risky enterprise of slave-trading. It is ironic that the Christian religion condones such human oppression. The book winds up commenting on religion without intending to do so. Again, this is the interpretation of a modern reading. Still, the narrator's decisive actions in the face of hardship are admirable and surprising. We wait to see whether he will prove to be dexterous enough to manage his fate. Civilization Meets the Wild Essentially Robinson oscillates between the roles of civilized, middle-class businessman and primitive nature lover. This brings up the theme of isolation: good or bad? Earlier enslavement experiences have not taught him, so now he is to be enslaved in another way. Defoe means for us to view the island as a completely distinct world, of which he is the colonizer. In many ways he is stunned initially, having been suddenly thrust into a very unfamiliar situation. Still, he is level-headed and calculating enough to realize that he must ransack the wrecked ship for provisions. This demonstrates his ingenuity. Although he has not seen other signs of life, he immediately sets out to hide himself and all his possessions from plain view. Robinson has his wits about him and intends to recreate the European world on this island. But he can only do so by embracing the surrounding materials offered by nature: the grass turns into a thatched roof, the mud is sculpted into a cellar, and the tree doubles as a house. This mock European world is literally hewn out of the land with bare hands. The civilized and the primitive thus merge symbolically. We have arrived at a new level of detail in the novel, a deeper type of realism. The account of working is an innovation for the time, and the journal is an extension of the realism. The fact that creating a calendar and keeping a journal are some of the narrator's most notable first tasks demonstrates his desire to replicate the sense of time present in his former world. The idea is somewhat ridiculous when we first examine it. After all, keeping track of time is only necessary when in a world that imposes expectations based on time. Robinson's choice, however, is a choice to stay as close to the civilized world as he possibly can; to remain sane. Defoe plays with the tracking of time. He inserts statements such as "in one and a half years I had a thatched roof." Then he proceeds to "retell" a story that was never exactly told by recounting the details of that time period. This manner of story-telling is useful because it allows the author to be extremely detail-oriented, which maintains a feeling of veracity, while cramming a long period of time into a few pages. It also provides a stream of consciousness tone. With the exception of a loose timeline, there is not much of an order to Robinson's tale. It is interesting to note that there is not much of a difference between the diction of the "journal" section of this part and the rest of the text. If anything, the journal is less reflective than the regular text. We might see the whole novel as a journal, but this is only possible because of the tone. Robinson's spoken reason for the calendar is to keep a Sabbath day. We observe here the beginning of Robinson's struggle to come to terms with his fate. It is a battle that will continue until the end. The list of pros and cons that he draws up indicate his desperate need to believe that Providence has designed his shipwreck for the best. He cannot afford to believe in a concept of bad luck or poor planning on his part. As long as the narrator can place trust implicitly in something more powerful than himself, he will remain optimistic and unafraid. Religion becomes a psychological crutch for him. Therefore he thanks God profusely for his deliverance. When he reads the Bible, he becomes less sick. Christianity is a metaphorical healer of body and spirit. To begin his evolution towards fulfillment, he must begin ill. He seems to identify with his father at these moments. The Reflections on the Island The reader repeatedly observes the narrator marveling at the course of events and attributing all of the goodness to Providence and God. Strangely enough, he fails to notice that much of the wonderment comes about because of his own hard work--figuring out how to make the corn bread are actually a large accomplishment, and a credit to Robinson's diligence and intelligence. However, this self-deceit acts as another psychological trick. In essence it steers Robinson's perspective from the negative towards the positive. If he can look upon the corn bread as a gift rather than a product of hard labor, he can be more grateful for its existence. Every little amenity that Robinson finds is treated in this manner. The grapes are "fine," the raisins "rich." They make Robinson feel blessed, and are emblems of a charmed life. We can extend this idea to the narrator's general outlook on his solitary life. Robinson examines his past life and is "absolutely horrified" with himself. The diction is a bit extreme, but illustrates the mindset of our main character. If he can convince himself that he is living a more wholesome life on this island, he can be happier now than he was in his life in his former world. The island is paradoxical, because it simultaneously becomes a haven and a threat. It will overwhelm and conquer Crusoe if he does not make it his paradise. The psychological tricks are survival tactics. We can see that gradually, he is becoming more callused. He kills the cats when they are too numerous, and he no longer give his food a second thought--he eats goats and turtles with relish. Yet as Robinson speaks of how distinct this new life is from the indulgent one he has left behind, he seems to work awfully hard to recreate the indulgences. The fact that he has two residences is highly comical. Even more so is his manner of classifying them: "country house" and "sea-coast house." Apparently in his mind, the narrator is still the wealthy businessman from Brazil. Whether he lives in a house of cement or mud, he maintains the familiar standard of material excellence. Robinson clearly wants to see himself in the role of master-ruler. He keeps pets to have beings subservient to him. The hard work he puts into raising crops and figuring out weather patterns are a means of creating a more leisurely life down the road. A large portion of his time is spent in exploration of the island. Indeed this is the substitute for the extensive traveling Robinson would have done on the sea. His excessive ramblings, however, reveal that his wandering spirit has not changed. Crusoe is deeply fascinated with what is wild and untamed. His only real fear is of savages who may or may not be on the island. In spite of that, he seems to enjoy taking risks, sleeping outside in unknown places. Whether this is intelligent or not is really not a matter of concern--the narrator is a living example of the cliché "you can't teach an old dog new tricks." The Manner of Friday When Robinson is still hungry for blood, and he gets his "vengeance" by killing two of the savages. He then proceeds to look upon Friday as a "creature" whom he will care for, giving him water, food, and clothing. The use of this word is somewhat degrading. It certainly indicates that Friday is a person of color. The fact that Robinson does not even try to learn Friday's actual name is testimony to the European supremacy theme that runs through the book. Crusoe has changed in appearance and occupation, but not intrinsically. He grants Friday his name as he would to any kind of pet. Thus Friday becomes, more or less, a little dog who follows Crusoe around. He is dresse...