The issue for a writer is how to close the gap, often yawning, between the writer's subject and the reader's experience. Give one example of how Richard Harding Davis creates reader admiration and/or sympathy for Rodriguez in his story. You should cite a specific image, description, etc., rather than make a general statement. Notice, too, how he leads us to feel quite the opposite about the Spaniards.
Please respond by 4 p.m., Sept. 10.
16 comments:
In addition to physical descriptions of Rodriguez (“he had a handsome, gentle face” “looked more like a Neapolitan than a Cuban”), Davis described Rodriguez’s actions in a sympathetic, complimentary way. He wrote that Rodriguez walked passed him, with a cigarette in his mouth, though “not arrogantly nor with bravado, but with the nonchalance of a man who meets his punishment fearlessly, and who will let his enemies see that they can kill but cannot frighten him.” It is clear that the writer had a really strong sense of admiration for this Cuban man, and he chose not to separate that from his writing. When the Spanish firing squad was interrupted the first time they were prepared to execute him, Rodriguez displayed an “exhibition of self-control” that would “surely rank above feats of heroism performed in a battle” when he straightened his back and faced the firing squad a second time. Davis claimed this man’s ability to face death with so much bravery was more heroic than what is usually regarded as the most heroic of all feats: defending your country in war. I found that to be the most definitive example of his attempt to create reader admiration for Rodriguez.
In contrast to descriptions of Rodriguez, Davis emphasized the lack of humane interest of the Spanish soldiers, particularly after Rodriguez had died. They walked past Rodriquez’s bloody body, and some craned their necks curiously, others gave a “careless glance” and some walked past “without any interest at all, as they would have looked at a house by the roadside, or a hole in the road.” I think this is less an example of Davis encouraging readers to develop an attitude of criticism towards the Spaniards and more an example of how desensitized soldiers become to death. American soldiers would have most likely had the same reaction. But because Davis wrote so sympathetically, elaborately and beautifully about this Cuban man approaching death with dignity, the soldiers’ less remarkable reaction to the situation looked worse than it may have otherwise.
After finishing this reading, I was reminded of the yellow journalism era that took off during the Spanish-American War. I read that Davis was accused of being associated with yellow journalism, though his work was widely published. I don’t know enough about yellow journalism’s sensationalistic style to make that judgment call on this story. However, it was interesting to consider because I always assumed yellow journalism would be, frankly, trashier, with a high level of crass to it (maybe paralleling the gossip magazine industry we are surrounded by today). This piece of writing was gorgeous and refined, but by creating reader admiration and sympathy, it seems like it could be just as “yellow” as the stereotypical forms of yellow journalism.
Davis' descriptions of Rodriguez are clearly influenced by his own admiration for Rodriguez and sympathy for his situation as a man willingly and unnecessarily sacrificing himself for his country. He humanizes him by pointing out similarities between Rodriguez and the soldiers.
The reader is at first drawn to Rodriguez because of his reaction to his imminent death. Davis' description of Rodriguez as he marches the long route to his resting place includes words like "soldierly," the image of the priests tripping over their robes making Rodriguez seem spiteful of his unjustified slaughter.
Davis further humanizes Rodriguez when he compares Rodriguez to "us," we Americans who apparently buckle beneath our realized mortality during the hallway-length trip to the gas chamber from our cells. This second person reference directly acknowledges the reader, effectively closing the "gap" you refer to in the prompt (see what I did there?).
Additionally, when Davis describes Rodriguez's stance as he gazes over the hills to his father's farm, the reader is reminded that this young man, too, is a member of a family. Later in the story, Davis says that it was hard to believe Rodriguez's corpse didn't stand and continue across the hills to his family, "as he apparently had started to do."
Then, the soldiers having each acknowledged his body created a kind of connection between them. When the young soldier stumbles and falls during this procession, Davis uses the the same verbiage he'd used to describe how Rodriguez's body fell after being shot.
Embarrassed and exposed, the soldier, too, is further humanized; sprawled across the ground right next to Rodriguez, they are visually indistinguishable apart from the gun wounds.
Reader admiration and sympathy for Rodriguez comes in Davis’s descriptions of his appearance. He is described as handsome with the gentle face of the peasant type. He is young (“for such a sacrifice”) and wears a scapular, alluding to a sense of spirituality and religion. Davis also describes Rodriguez’s apparent courage and fearlessness of death, saying he took his punishment with fearless nonchalance.
A particular description of Rodriguez that evokes admiration for his character is Davis’s comparison of Rodriguez with the statue of Nathan Hale in City Hall Park (http://bit.ly/18PAbnx). The dignified, courageous, yet helpless figure of Rodriguez is said to be just like the statue—on his heels like a soldier on parade, face held up fearlessly, standing firmly. Rodriquez maintaining this noble pose at the time of his execution makes him admirable.
The dehumanizing effects of war also make the reader sympathetic for Rodriguez. He is seen as a statistic rather than a man because of the prevalence of death during wartime—“but will be remembered only as one of thirty Cubans…” Rodriguez’s corpse becomes something similar to a traffic crash on the side of the highway, with people hurriedly craning for a quick glimpse before moving on—“Each soldier as he passed turned and looked down on it, some craning their necks curiously, others giving a careless glance, and some without any interest at all, as they would have looked at a house by the roadside, or a hole in the road.” The reader expresses sympathy for Rodriguez because he is no longer a dead person or of any importance, but rather a mere hole in the road, or part of the landscape. This complete lack of empathy is a sad reminder of the dehumanizing otherworldliness of war.
While the physical descriptions of Rodriguez fuels readers' sympathies for him, there is strong and striking juxtaposition between Davis's descriptions of the Spaniards that strengthens Rodriguez's described heroism. First and foremost, the band, “playing a jaunty quickstep,” is, Davis says, “interrupted” by the execution, suggesting that the whole procedure is merely an inconvenience for the Spaniards in their everyday life. Davis uses the “jaunty quickstep” the frame Rodriguez's execution, the first mention of the band on page 72, the next and last on page 75, with no mention of the band or reactions from players until after people have begun to disperse and, seemingly, forget about the body. Meanwhile, between the band playing, Rodriguez, with his “handsome, gentle face,” “a picture of such pathetic helplessness, but of such courage and dignity,” is a symbol of heroism and bravery in his unwavering strength during his execution. However, by framing his death with the quickstep, Davis indicates a nonchalance from the Spaniards toward the execution, drawing reader attention to Rodriguez's stoicism and unwavering fearlessness.
As well, Davis draws attention to many details pointing to which direction Rodriguez faces. Rodriguez, “turning his back on the square, faced the hills and the road across them, which led to his father's farm.” And again after he must change positions: “This man was alone, in the sight of the hills he knew, with only enemies about him...” The familiarity he had with his surrounding heightens the tragedy of the execution—Rodriguez is close to his father's home, presumably his own home, which is often a symbol of safety. That Davis points this out indicates that he very clearly wants readers to sympathize with Rodriguez, as the close proximity of Rodriguez's family emphasizes the tragic nature of the circumstances. Rodriguez is “with only enemies about him,” and despite his family's home being past hills in sight, he must face his death alone.
Immediately after the introduction of Rodriguez, the reader is meant to identify with the character. "With us a condemned man walks only the short distance from his cell to the scaffold or the electric chair, shielded from sight by the prison walls, and it often occurs even then that the short journey is too much for his strength and courage." At about a page in, Davis breaks from the third person and this is the first time we acknowledge his presence in the story. Although it is inferred that by "us" he means himself and the soldiers, the reader can also take it to mean Davis and ourselves. Within the first line of Rodriguez's entry, we feel as if we are walking right along side him seeing first hand his "strength and courage."
As the procession moves on Davis continues to juxtapose the courageous Rodriguez with the cruel Spaniards. In describing the Cubans stature while waiting for the shot, Davis writes "he stood firmly," "his face held up fearlessly," and "willing to give six lives for his country." On the brink of his looming execution Rodriguez is depicted as one might the hero of an epic novel. As the reader we do not feel pity for an undeserving sacrifice, but rather admiration for someone who is able to face imminent death with courage.
On the opposite side of the spectrum Davis's portrayal of the Spaniards and their actions is meant to leave the reader thinking unfavorably about them. He writes "The officer of the firing squad, mortified by his blunder, hastily whipped up his sword..." and "One young soldier caught his foot in a trailing vine, just opposite to it, and fell. He grew very red when his comrades giggled at him for his awkwardness." Davis's wording in these description gives the soldiers the appearance of being foolish and further juxtaposes them with Rodriguez .
Davis means immediately for the audience to sympathize with Rodriguez and wastes no time with subtlety: the question isn't 'is he admirable,' but 'how admirable is he? Davis doesn't leave it up to the imagination, and outright tells the reader that Rodriguez is worthy of respect and more dignity than what was offered him.
Davis lists Rodriguez' virtues at length as the scene unfolds. Even when Rodriguez first appears, the boy is described as very handsome, yet modest, "He had a handsome, gentle face of the peasant type, a light, pointed beard, great wistful eyes and a mass of curly black hair. He was shockingly young for such a sacrifice, and looked more like a Neapolitan than a Cuban. You could imagine him sitting on the quay at Naples or Genoa, lolling in the sun and showing his white teeth when he laughed." Not only is he an attractive young man, Davis also heavily implies that he ought not have belonged in Cuba, that this fate was one that Rodriguez didn't deserve.
Davis goes on to expand how brave Rodriguez was. "It seems a petty thing to have been pleased with at such a time, but I confess to have felt a thrill of satisfaction when I saw, as the Cuban passed me, that he held a cigarette between his lips, not arrogantly nor with bravado, but with the nonchalance of a man who meets his punishment fearlessly, and who will let his enemies see that they can kill but can not frighten him." Davis tells us that he's pleased with Rodriguez; this is an emotional narration that elegantly passes approval from the writer to the reader.
Davis also juxtaposes the cruelty of the punishment and the demands of the Spainards with Rodriguez' near-paragon framing. The march to the execution grounds is cruelly long, but Rodriguez doesn't stumble at all (even when the priests are). The Spainards foolishly make a near-blunder in the process, and yet Rodriguez is unflapped when he has to move a few feet, delaying his eventual death. A task that Davis describes as, "an exhibition of self-control this should surely rank above feats of heroism performed in battle, where there are thousands of comrades to give inspiration."
Davis even suggests that Rodriguez had the dignity and depth of a timeless statue. And when the boy finally died, Davis regarded him almost as if he'd become a saint: a martyr's grave punctuated with tragic imagery and pure remorse for his fate.
“The Death of Rodriguez,” by Richard Harding Davis is a story where sympathy and admiration is evident for the main character Rodriguez. The scene that I thought demonstrates the most admiration for Rodriguez is the time when Rodriguez gets introduced during the walk to the execution site. This scene shows how Rodriguez stands by the actions that he committed and that he doesn’t mind dying for them. This shows admiration because the reader has to admire what Rodriguez stands for.
In terms of feeling sympathetic for Rodriguez, I think the reader is able to feel sympathetic for him throughout the entire piece. Throughout the entire piece Davis seems to describe Rodriguez as a heroic character. From this you feel sympathetic for Davis because of what he has to endure.
Davis sets Rodriguez up as this scrappy, archetypal sacrificial lamb in is descriptions. He humanizes him through the hypothetical image of the young man in Naples, picturing his carefree laughter and again through differentiating his manner of holding the cigarette ("nonchalant" over "arrogance.")
The rest of Davis' descriptions of the condemned man maintain his quiet, graceful dignity, though pointing out how insignificant his death might seem to outsiders.
Prior to the shots being fired (a sort of gasp period before the inevitable occurs), Rodriguez is asked to move (he was not just moved, but asked to reposition himself) to avoid shooting several soldiers behind the scene. It's this bizarre moment where the captain touches his shoulder and the man, now referred to as "boy," encounters a human touch when he expected a spray of bullets. I couldn't help but think of that moment as one that was slowed to gain sympathy and show his admiration for his subject.
The quiet dignity of a man dying for freedom is a timeless (and, sure, maybe tired) narrative; Rodriguez becomes a christ-figure of sorts, though he's admittedly unlikely to memorialized in anyway but the written word. Davis tries to show just why that sort of archetypal, sacrificial hero is still worthy of our memory.
Davis clearly wishes to establish Rodriguez as a more heroic figure than those set to execute him. He does this throughout the passage but begins from the very instant the characters are introduced. The soldiers’ arrival took Davis away from his descriptions of the beautiful night preceding the execution. “When the soldiers came in force the moon was a white ball in the sky, without radiance…” is a leap from, “…shining brightly through the mists,” as it was originally described. One might see this as time simply passing from night to morning, but the fact that Davis included these descriptions of how the setting changed as the soldiers arrived, the reader already associates them with taking the glow from the full moon.
When Rodriquez is introduced, he becomes the subject of analysis. Davis notes his expectation of what the prisoner would look like, “stumbling and faltering on his cruel journey,” but then notes his delight in the way “…he led all the others, that the priests on either side of him were taking two steps to his one…in their efforts to keep pace with him as he walked, erect and soldierly.” Davis interestingly used the word soldierly to describe someone on their way to be executed by soldiers, who received no such description. While the soldiers took away from the setting, Rodriguez added a sense of reverence which Davis wants the reader to feel.
Rodriguez is notably described for the sake of admiration until Davis’ tone becomes more sympathetic at the point when the soldiers do not fire after being poised to do so. Davis called this delay, “…one of the most cruelly refined, though unintentional, acts of torture that one can very well imagine.” In this sentence alone, one must sympathize with Rodriguez for suffering the delay but must also hold animosity toward the Spaniards for making the mistake which brought him such suffering. Although some might see Davis’ descriptions as fantastical and unprofessional as a reporter, he simply establishes for the reader what they would certainly feel if they were present at the execution, which reports the news of the death of Rodriguez on a deeper level than an obituary.
The juxtaposition of the surrounding’s transition from the first paragraph to the second mirrored in my mind what was about to occur, and gave an emotional weightiness that, as a reader not dissecting the text on an analytical level, may feel alarmed about receiving because it appears to come out of nowhere. The detailed description of an eerily beautiful old town covered in mist gave the sense of the calm before the storm – Rodriguez’s calm, humble life before the day of his execution came, and “as the moonlight faded these were stamped out… the moon was a white ball in the sky, without radiance.” The beauty of Rodriguez’s life was diminished the rest of the story, as the reader understood from these details given the calmness and beauty of living life and what the onset of reality of your surrounding and feelings feels like – the same reality Rodriguez himself undeniably felt.
The use of contrast while describing the scene continues, with Davis comparing the usual practice of execution (“With us a condemned man walks only a short distance from his cell to the scaffold or the electric chair.”) to what the Spaniards actually made Rodriguez do (“But the Spaniards on this morning made the prisoner walk over a half mile across the broken surface of the fields.”)This is used to decrease our understanding of the Spaniards position and increase sympathy for the man to be executed, by allowing the reader to draw the conclusion these men are inhuman in their practices. This sympathy of the reader is only increased when Davis begins to describe Rodriguez’s features and demeanor as an attractive and seemingly fearless man. Although the use of “The Cuban” is used in reference to Rodriguez might, on the surface, seem to be used to dehumanize him, it in fact only emphasizes to the reader who he is and what he stands for – a defender of his cause. Davis even compares him to the
American rebel, a claim that strongly illustrates to the reader what type of man Rodriguez was by comparing him to a common historical image that alone conveys particular feelings and thoughts.
From Davis' initial surprise at The Cuban's stoic manner, to his slumber in the soil there is a hero present. Davis sees the Cuban die with grace, and die without fear or regret. He is introduced as "erect and soldierly, at a quick step in advance" of the Spaniards. Despite the fact that he is the prisoner, he is glorified and put above the authority, which is made out to be clumsy and inhumane. The cigarette he smoked "with the nonchalance of a man who meets his punishment fearlessly" burned brighter than any of the Spaniards' guns.
The comparison of The Cuban to Nathan Hale also builds his humility, and even places a sense of guilt into American readers. The Cuban will not receive a statue, or any honor by society. He will instead die with his glory and grace only, holding his ground and legacy better than any statue.
Yet, the real way this man becomes a hero is the way Davis describes the Spaniards, his opposites. The people fear speaking for "they knew that whatever they might say would be twisted into a word of sympathy for the condemned man or a protest against the government." This tyrannical atmosphere immediately dents the image of the Spaniards. Their power relies on fear, and since The Cuban has none. Thus, they are powerless.
They are also viewed as clumsy. When the Spanish officer nearly fires on his men, it becomes clear who is the stronger, regardless of who is dying and who has the guns.
I know this is more than one example, but they all tie together. There's not just one part of this story that wins the reader's admiration for The Cuban. The story is entirely admiration for the Cuban, and when he bleeds into the soil is when we watch the hero beat the Spaniards.
The noble descriptions of the Cuban cut with embarrassing details of the Spaniards direct sympathy and admiration towards the Cuban. "He led all the others, the priests on either side of him were taking two steps to his one, and that they were tripping on their gowns and stumbling over the hollows in their efforts to keep pace with him as he walked, erect and soldierly, at a quick step in advance of them." These details are relatively unbiased however the juxtaposition of how fearless and somber the Cuban was with the clownish behavior of the Spaniards can't help but evoke favoritism towards him. "The officer had given the order, the men had raised their pieces, and the condemned man had heard the clicks of the triggers as they were pulled back, and he had not moved. And then happened one of the most cruelly refined, though unintentional, acts of torture that one can very well imagine. As the officer slowly raised his sword, preparatory to giving the signal, one of the mounted officers rode up to him and pointed out silently that, ... the firing squad were so placed that when they fired they would shoot several of the soldiers stationed on the extreme end of the square.... You would expect that any man, snatched back to life in such a fashion would start and tremble at the reprieve, or would break down altogether, but this boy turned his head steadily, and followed with his eyes the direction of the officer's sword, then nodded gravely, and, with his shoulders squared, took up the new position, straightened his back, and once more held himself erect."
Then again after the Cuban was shot and left dead in the grass the soldiers stumble in the high grass, one trips and the rest giggle at him.
There is no question that Rodriguez is a character most admired and respected by the author Richard Harding Davis. He is a martyr, dying for a reason and his blood is "sinking into the soil he had tried to free". The first indication the audience gets is by the physical description of Rodriguez. He does not have the cold, hard eyes of a traitor but the "handsome, gentle face of a peasant" which both humbles and humanizes him. We immediately sympathize with him, knowing what his fate is. He walks "not arrogantly nor with bravado" but a strong and fearless prisoner of the war. I am haunted by his description as embodying "the nonchalance of a man who meets his punishment fearlessly, and who will let his enemies see that they can kill but cannot frighten him". Here I not only felt admiration and sympathy for him, but I also felt envious of him. Imagine a man so courageous and strong that not even death can shake him.
However, is it bravery or desensitization? The war and violence he has experienced has been so dehumanizing that maybe his "exhibition of self-control" during the officer's blunder was not a reaction caused by bravery but rather by sheer indifference. It is hard to tell without being able to read Rodriguez's mind, but Davis interprets this to audience with admiration.
The Spaniards, on the other hand, are inhuman, robots and the opposite of everything Rodriguez is described as. They are a "crowd of sleepy spectators", so accustomed to war that killing a man doesn't wake them from their slumber. They "crane their necks curiously" or some are "without any interest at all". Along the lines of our last conversation in class, this description of the soldiers is so modern. Just like the crowd that had formed for the epileptic man in Crane's "When a Man Falls, a Crowd Gathers", the soldiers are entertained by the dead Cuban. His death is something to spectated and observed rather than mourned. Davis has created, in Rodriguez, a character to be admired but in the Spaniards he has demonstrated the true nature of humanity: desensitized, uncaring and selfish.
Davis tells a tale of a man who has to overcome death, which, I'd argue, Rodriguez does in fact accomplish by choosing death for his country. Choosing, albeit in a introspective sense, being key. Not only does his face the spanish firing squad once, he does so a second time after they were interrupted. I'd say the description of his actions, like when he straighten his back and holds his head high, more accurately convey his convictions and personality rather than his physical descriptions, which, although useful, can often be mis-representations of a person. Rodriguez is a young man, yet he's bale to confront the firing squad with more bravery than ten grown men may have been able to.
The same goes for the spanish. There actions after the execution speak worlds of truths about the dangers of war. I agree with Hannah, that because Davis wrote about Rodriguez so eloquently and beautifully, within sentences getting me on his side, that I was less likely to like the spanish, especially when when they subsequently don't show much remorse at all.
The writing itself read almost like a piece of fiction--that's not to say it sounded unbelievable, but it utilized technique not associated with straight journalism. This was most obvious to me when Davis described the old town and the scenery, the mist, and whatnot, details that a straight news piece would not include.
The message about the pice that I took away a the end, is that no matter what the war is over--or who the war is between--it always results in a loss of life, and that soldiers on the battlefield, despite their skin color or beliefs, are really all just people. When Rodriguez fell the the ground, I remember being sad and shocked, though I had known it was coming. I thought this would be the most stand-out moment for me. But it wasn't. The most stand-out moment was, in fact, when the other solder fell beside him, in much the same way he had.
Davis is quick to establish Rodriguez as a youth whose life has been cut tragically short. Almost immediately after introducing Rodriguez, Davis creates a hypothetical of where he can imagine him given his handsome looks. "You could imagine him sitting on the quay at Naples lolling in the sun." Davis paints this scenery almost to imply what could have been had Rodriguez not been sentenced to death. Davis also compares Rodriguez to Nathan Hale, instantly associating Rodriguez with the kind of patriotism and love of country the former is famous for. This comparison in turn implies the Spaniards to be imperialistic billies in the same vain as the British during the revolution. Any American reading this account would make both these associations, whether consciously or unconsciously, creating animosity toward the Spaniards.
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