The Core Element of Self-Sacrifice in Relationships

couple in sunset

The core element in relationships, especially in marriage, is the aspect of self-sacrifice.  In Eastern Orthodoxy, marriage is a type martyrdom, which is why crowns are placed on the bride and groom’s heads during the sacrament of marriage. They are crowns of martyrdom, which means giving selflessly to the other, which is the epitome of true love.

Self-sacrifice is also present in other relationships such as parents to their children, siblings to each other, and in close friendships.  The principle of self-sacrifice in marriage and family is greatly expressed through the two main female characters in the short stories, “The Thirteenth Night” and “Punishment.”

Although “The Thirteenth Night” and “Punishment” take place in different countries, they share the common thread of discontentment in marriage and how the core of selflessness may be lacking in their marriages and familial relationships. The two female protagonists in “The Thirteenth Night” and “Punishment” challenge their marriages that ultimately leads to self-sacrifice through apathy for one and self-sacrifice through tragedy for the other, deeply impacting their relationships.

In “The Thirteenth Night,” the protagonist, Oseki, weighs her desires against the greater good of her family and community, which is demonstrated through her conversations with her parents and her childhood friend.

The story opens with Oseki standing near her parents’ house, disheartened by the task before her–to ask their permission to divorce Isamu, her husband.  She then hears her father’s loud voice talking of all that he is thankful for that has to do with Oseki’s marriage.

She grapples with conflicting thoughts regarding the dire circumstances for her son, Tarō, if she were to leave her husband, and the financial well being of her parents and brother.  For a moment, she thinks, “But if she had her way and went through with the divorce, it would be the end of everything” (Ichiyō 2.7), which are pertaining to her thoughts above:  her relationship with her son and the loss of a job for her brother.

Oseki convinces herself at that moment that the permanent separation from her son and the loss of her brother’s job security are worth discarding for her freedom, and chooses her own desires to end the marriage rather than sacrificing her own wants for the sake of her marriage, son, and family.

Having a close bond with her parents, Oseki feels comfortable enough to share her miseries with her surprised parents.  In her descriptions of Isamu, he is seen as a man of importance, but with that, he displays arrogance and condescending behavior toward Oseki.  She points out, “You know, for the first six months or so after we were married, he was always at my side, doing everything he could for me. But as soon as Tarō was born—it’s frightening how much a man can change!” (Ichiyō 2.8).

Because “The Thirteenth Night” was written in the early 1900s and takes place in Japan in Japanese culture, there were no marriage or family counselors to talk to them about the changes that happen between a husband and wife after the birth of their first child.

We don’t know the details of their backstory, other than their relationship changed after their son was born, and it somehow led to Isamu’s negative changes and infidelities, although infidelities committed by husbands were not unusual in that time period or culture for married couples.  Clearly, there was a break in their relationship that had lost the element of self-sacrifice as well as mutual respect in their marriage.

Oseki’s parents show the customary love and support toward her. However, her father tells her, “Even if he is fussy and a little difficult sometimes, it’s still a wife’s duty to humor her husband” (Ichiyō 2.9). He also reminds her of the consequences of leaving her husband–never being able to see Tarō again.

In the mutual respect between Oseki and her parents, Oseki honors her father in a show of obedience, selflessness, and love, by ultimately making the decision to stay with her husband.

Oseki stays true to the core element of relationships–self-sacrifice.  She reaffirms this after she leaves her parents’ house and takes a rickshaw back home. She discovers the man driving the rickshaw is a childhood friend, Roku, who had once loved her and she him.  He shares all of his struggles in his present life since Oseki’s marriage.  She shares in his pains by saying, “You’re not the only one to suffer in this sad world…” (Ichiyō 2.10).

Once they have finished their conversation, they both go on with their own lives, showing self-sacrifice for the greater good instead of their own desires, keeping their relationships intact.

The difficult decision between the sacrifice of self and the family in “The Thirteenth Night” is explored in the short story, “Punishment,” through the protagonist, Chandara’s decision between life and death; in reconciling her marriage or dying for a crime she didn’t commit.

In dealing with combative relationships with her sister-in-law, Radha, and husband, Chidam, there is very little family support or show of the core element of self-sacrifice in Chandara’s family and marriage.  The story begins with the brothers Dukhiram and Chidam working in the fields with the sound of the daily squabbles between Chandara and Radha being heard throughout the village.

When the brothers get home, Dukhiram has a heated argument with his wife, Radha, and ends up killing her. He crumples to the floor in tears, scared and shocked by what he’d done and what would happen to him.

This terrible incident leads to the brothers consulting with a well-respected citizen of stature in the village. Chidam fears the fate of his brother and decides to say his wife killed Radha instead of his brother. Dukhiram accepts Chidam’s story out of fear and does not question blaming his crime on his sister-in-law.

It is understandable that Chidam would be alarmed and very concerned about his brother because their relationship is very close–they share a house and work together–but in Dukhiram’s cowardness, he does not show self-sacrifice and admit to the authorities that he killed Radha.

The marital relationship of Chidam and Chandara is cluttered with pride, pigheadedness, and jealousy.  Chidam cares more for his brother than his wife as demonstrated when he says to Ramlochan Chakrabarti, an important and outstanding member of the village, “If I lose my wife, I can get another, but if my brother is hanged, how can I replace him?” (Tagore 3.3).

It is true that Chidam only has his one brother, and it is understandable that he would want to save his brother from the damning consequences of his crime, but sacrificing his wife isn’t commendable.  This shows a lack of respect by Chidam for Chandara, and that he views Chandara as less important and inferior to his brother, which was the norm in Indian society at the time.

In his fears for his brother’s circumstances, Chidam adds insult to injury by informing his wife of his plan, for which Chandara is taken aback.  To lessen the blow, he tells her, “Don’t worry—if you do what I tell you, you’ll be quite safe” (Tagore 3.4), but he is not very confident later when he tells her he will get her out of the murder charge soon.  Angry and hurt, Chandara accepts the blame. The actions of Chidam show a deficit in self-sacrificial love to his spouse in their marriage.

In front of the village authorities, headstrong and hurt, Chandara confesses to the crime and later sticks to her confession in court even after Chidam and Dukhiram break down and tell the truth when they are in court.  In prison, Chandara shows her contempt for her husband in not accepting his request to visit her in jail.  She shows pride and desire for revenge against Chidam for hurting her that ultimately leads to her self-sacrifice to be free from her relationship with him by the authorities executing her for the crime (Tagore 3.5).

Both of the marriages in “Punishment” end in death through senseless acts.  The core element of self-sacrifice is twisted in the marital relationship between Chandara and Chidam, whereas she does sacrifice her life for Chidam’s brother, but she does not do it for selfless or honorable reasons.

The two main female characters in “The Thirteenth Night” and “Punishment” struggle with self-sacrifice in their marital relationships by defying their husbands, impacting their families and communities, one temporarily, the other permanently.

In the Japanese culture, “The Thirteenth Night” shows the tradition of collectivism where one makes the sacrifice for the greater good of the whole in the family and community, whereas.

The Indian story, “Punishment,” shows self-sacrifice in giving up one’s life through anger, retaliation, and to be free from the restrictive bonds of marriage and norms.

In the present day, self-sacrifice is still the most endearing and important element in marriage, family, and other relationships.

 

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Works Cited
Ichiyō, Higuchi.  “The Thirteenth Night.” Trans. Robert Lyons Danly. Modern World Literature. Asheville NC: Soomo Publishing, 2016. Web.
Tagore, Rabindranath.  “Punishment.”  Trans. William Radice.  Modern World
Literature.  Asheville NC:  Soomo Publishing, 2016.  Web.

 

 

 

 

 

Literary Humanness

books and flowers

The literary package—reading, writing, and analyzing literature—is quite crucial in the life of not only a writer, but also a reader and a student studying to become a good fiction writer (or creative non-fiction, screenwriter, etc.).  When we authors write our creative fiction works, it is a sole project in which we delve into our own minds filled with images, ideas, strings of words and sentences, and the bellowing of our carved-out characters.  But in essence, once our work is out there in print and ebook, we connect with the readers, and ultimately humanity.

In writing my stories, I’ve always been drawn to human emotions, the human condition, and the light of hope, to which I weave into my creative works.  Creating fictional characters’ journeys in dealing with real life issues, their relationships with others, and how they get through conflicts and come to discovery and resolution, is something every human being can relate to because we’ve all gone through difficulties, joys, and sorrows in our lives.

renoir dance pic

(Renoir’s Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette)

I don’t have a high self-esteem or much confidence in myself, even with the recent accomplishments in my writing this year. I still wonder if my writing is good enough.  But with all the things I’ve learned, it has only taught me I still have more to learn and that it is an ongoing process that will probably continue throughout the rest of my writing life.

Analyzing and reading the classic and modern stories I’ve read in World Literature, Fiction Writing Workshop, Intro to Creative Writing, Shakespeare, Romantic Literature, Nonfiction Writing Workshop, and most recently, British Literature, have helped me in structuring my novels in the proper manner for the character arc, and appreciate a deeper understanding of the characters.  Delving deeper into the characters revealed the utter humanness of them, their flawed selves, broken and fragile, and I think how brilliant the authors were in creating such compelling characters and their stories.  For example, the most recent paper I wrote was on Mary Shelley’s novel, Frankenstein. The character of Victor Frankenstein depicts clearly the brokenness of human beings.  And through Frankenstein’s and other fictional characters’ choices they make, cause either joy or sorrow and success or ruin for them.

frankenstein outside darkness

Literature also helps us to understand people who have different perspectives than our own, by stepping into these characters’ minds, lives, cultures, watching them deal with their bad habits, and struggles with relating to others.

Having relationships with others makes us truly human. And I believe that’s really the central struggle and most difficult endeavor for many human beings (me for sure!  Introvert here) in this life.  Generally speaking, it’s easier for us to have relationships with and love our pets than other people.  But it is through communion with other people that we become whole.

It is my hope that my writing touches the hearts of my readers (hopefully I’ll have some when my books are published!) and that they feel inspired and satisfied when they are done reading my works.

In wrapping up this blog post, I wish and pray for continued striving and success for all of us writers because writing is one hundred times harder than we thought when we first started out in the craft.

 

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What You Learn When Writing About Yourself

finding peace

When I began to write again in September 2014, the first story I attempted to write and did not finish was a fictional piece where the main character was loosely based on me and my life experiences.  In doing this, I found that some of the events from my dating and romantic relationships in my early twenties weren’t what I’d always thought they were.

As I wrote scenes in which my main character reacted to the boyfriends and men in which she had crushes, this became apparent to me, especially for one intense relationship I had.  I’d spent twenty-five years seeing it all through my perspective and believing I’d been wronged and the guy was a jerk.  As if everything I did was wonderfully good and considerate and his was absolutely bad and apathetic.  Not so.

This narrow view expanded to a more balanced and clearer picture.  It was a bit of an epiphany . . . a painful and stunning discovery, mixed with regret and shame, in which I’d been so self-absorbed only caring about my own feelings and never considering or understanding his.  Now, it’s true this one boyfriend didn’t volunteer any of his deep, personal feelings with me, so I wouldn’t, couldn’t have known.  But twenty-five years later, it’s quite evident that there were problems that neither of us knew how to deal with and didn’t have the knowledge and relationship tools in which to figure it all out.

This first writing endeavor truly turned the mirror on me and my behavior in my early twenties, for which I’d been selfish, naive, and clueless.  But writing what I did brought about a catharsis for which my past hurts and whatever disgruntled feelings or misunderstandings and frustrations I’d felt so strongly then dissipated and resolved four years ago, leaving me with a sense of understanding and peace within me.

Having experienced this, I wonder if this happens to other writers, especially those who write memoirs.  Writing truly is an outlet to self-discovery and catharsis.

 

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