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Part 2 The ship sailed northward into the Pacific Ocean, and although the sun shone during

the day and the wind remained strong, the mist held fast. The other sailors were angry with the Ancient Mariner for killing the Albatross, which they believed had saved them from the icy world by summoning the wind: "Ah wretch! Said they, the bird to slay / That made the breeze to blow!" Then the mist disappeared and the sun shone particularly brightly, "like God's own head." The sailors suddenly changed their opinion. They decided that the Albatross must have brought the must, and praise the Ancient Mariner for having killed it and rid them of the mist: "Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, / That bring the fog and mist." The ship sailed along merrily until it entered an uncharted part of the ocean, and the wind disappeared. The ship could not move, and sat "As idle as a painted ship / Upon a painted ocean." Then the sun became unbearably hot just as the sailors ran out of water, leading up to the most famous lines in the poem: "Water, water, every where, / And all the boards did shrink; / Water, water, every where, / Nor any drop to drink." The ocean became a horrifying place; the water churned with "slimy" creatures, and at night, eerie fires seemed to burn on the ocean's surface. Some of the sailors dreamed that an evil spirit had followed them from the icy world, and they all suffered from a thirst so terrible that they could not speak. To brand the Ancient Mariner for his crime and place the guilt on him and him alone, the sailors hung the Albatross's dead carcass around his neck. Analysis Coleridge introduces the idea of responsibility in Part 2. The sailors have an urge to pin whatever happens to them on the Ancient Mariner, since he killed the Albatross for no good reason. It seems more important to them to make him claim responsibility for their fate than what their fate actually is; first, they curse him for making the wind disappear, and then they praise him for making the mist disappear. Coleridge may be poking fun at allegory in this section. He told reviewers after the poem's release that he did not intend for it to have a moral, even though when reading the poem, one is hard-pressed not to discern a moral message. By having the sailors switch from blame to praise and back to blame again, Coleridge mocks those quick to judge. To go back to the preface, the sailors represent those too eager to discern the "certain" from the "uncertain", preferring to see things in black-andwhite terms. The major theme of liminality emerges more fully in Part 2. In literature - and especially Romantic literature - a liminal

space is where plot twists occur or things begin to go awry. The Romantic hero, although he begins confident and with a clear mission, stumbles into a bewildering space where he struggles, and from which he emerges wizened and saddened. Traditionally these places are borderlines, such as the edge of a forest or a shoreline. Recall from Part 1 that the ship's course is sunny and smooth until it crosses the equator and the storm begins. The equator is the boundary between the earth's hemispheres, and is therefore an extreme example of a liminal space. The icy world or "rime" itself is also a compelling liminal space. At first it seems to be the epitome of the temporal; there are no visible creatures there besides the sailors, whose senses it assaults with huge icy forms, terrifying sounds, and bewildering echoes. But it is equally a spiritual place, the dwelling of a very powerful spirit who wreaks havoc on the sailors to punish the Ancient Mariner for killing its beloved Albatross. The icy world represents a tenuous balance between the temporal and spiritual. The physicality of the icy world represents its tenuousness; in it, water exists in all its three phases: ice, water, and mist. The boundaries between the temporal and the spiritual, what Burnet calls the "certain and uncertain" in the epigraph, are as indistinct there as the physical state of water. It is not necessarily the loudness, coldness, or desolateness of the icy world that makes it so terrifying. Rather, it is the fact that nothing there is easily definable. In light of the epigraph, it represents the balance that one must seek between the "certain and uncertain," which will ultimately lead to the truth. However, the icy world as a symbol suggests that this path to enlightenment is equally fascinating and terrifying. The most famous lines in "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" are unquestionably: "Water, water, every where, / Nor any drop to drink." The sailors are punished for the Ancient Mariner's mistake with deprivation made worse by the fact that what they need so badly - water - is all around them, but is entirely undrinkable. Since the poem's publication, these lines have come into common usage to refer to situations in which one is surrounded by the thing one desires, but is denied it nevertheless. In light of the epigraph, the Ancient Mariner shoots the Albatross because he, like humans throughout time, wants to learn about the spiritual world. The Albatross is an animal, but it is akin to a spirit, and its murder wreaks spiritual havoc on the sailors. We are given no reason why the Ancient Mariner shoots the Albatross, and he does so without premeditation. It is as though he needs to bring the beauty of the spiritual world (embodied in the Albatross) down to the temporal world in order to understand it. He takes the bird out of the air and onto the deck, where it proves to be mortal indeed. After that, the

spiritual world begins to punish the Ancient Mariner and the other sailors by making all elements of the temporal world painful. They are thirsty and sunburned, cannot sail for lack of wind, and are threatened by creatures and strange lights in the water. The sailors add to the Ancient Mariner's physical punishment when they hang the Albatross around his neck, giving him a physical burden to remind him of the spiritual burden of sin he carries. They too punish him physically for his spiritual depravity.

three roads met. He asks her to describe Laius, and her description matches his memory. Yet Jocasta tells him that the only eyewitness to Laius's death, a herdsman, swore that five robbers killed him. Oedipus summons this witness. While they wait for the man to arrive, Jocasta asks Oedipus why he seems so troubled. Oedipus tells her the story of his past. Once when he was young, a man he met told him that he was not his father's son. He asked his parents about it, and they denied it. Still it troubled him, and he eventually went to an oracle to determine his true lineage. The oracle then told him that he would kill his father and marry his mother. This prophecy so frightened Oedipus that he left his hometown and never returned. On his journey, he encountered a haughty man at a crossroads - and killed the man after suffering an insult. Oedipus is afraid that the stranger he killed might have been Laius. If this is the case, Oedipus will be forever banished both from Thebes (the punishment he swore for the killer of Laius) and from Corinth, his hometown. If this eyewitness will swear that robbers killed Laius, then Oedipus is exonerated. He prays for the witness to deliver him from guilt and from banishment. Oedipus and Jocasta enter the palace to wait for him. Jocasta comes back out of the palace, on her way to the holy temples to pray for Oedipus. A messenger arrives from Corinth with the news that Oedipus's father Polybus is dead. Overjoyed, Jocasta sends for Oedipus, glad that she has even more proof in the uselessness of oracles. Oedipus rejoices, but then states that he is still afraid of the rest of the oracle's prophecy: that he will marry his mother. The messenger assures him that he need not fear approaching Corinth - since Merope, his mother, is not really his mother, and moreover, Polybus wasn't his father either. Stunned, Oedipus asks him how he came to know this. The messenger replies that years ago a man gave a baby to him and he delivered this baby to the king and queen of Corinth - a baby that would grow up to be Oedipus the King. The injury to Oedipus's ankles is a testament to the truth of his tale, because the baby's feet had been pierced through the ankles. Oedipus asks the messenger who gave the baby to him, and he replies that it was one of Laius's servants. Oedipus sends his men out to find this servant. The messenger suggests that Jocasta should be able to help identify the servant and help unveil the true story of Oedipus's birth. Suddenly understanding the terrible truth, Jocasta begs Oedipus not to carry through with his investigation. Oedipus replies that he swore to unravel this mystery, and he will follow through on his word. Jocasta exits into the palace. Oedipus again swears that he will figure out this secret, no matter how vile the answer is. The Chorus senses that

Oedipus Rex or Oedipus the King Summary When the play opens, Thebes is suffering a plague which leaves its fields and women barren. Oedipus, the king of Thebes, has sent his brother-in-law, Creon, to the house of Apollo to ask the oracle how to end the plague. Creon returns, bearing good news: once the killer of the previous king, Laius, is found, Thebes will be cured of the plague (Laius was Jocasta's husband before she married Oedipus). Hearing this, Oedipus swears he will find the murderer and banish him. The Chorus (representing the people of Thebes) suggests that Oedipus consult Teiresias, the blind prophet. Oedipus tells them that he has already sent for Teiresias. When Teiresias arrives, he seems reluctant to answer Oedipus's questions, warning him that he does not want to know the answers. Oedipus threatens him with death, and finally Teiresias tells him that Oedipus himself is the killer, and that his marriage is a sinful union. Oedipus takes this as an insult and jumps to the conclusion that Creon paid Teiresias to say these things. Furious, Oedipus dismisses him, and Teiresias goes, repeating as he does, that Laius's killer is right here before him - a man who is his father's killer and his mother's husband, a man who came seeing but will leave in blindness. Creon enters, asking the people around him if it is true that Oedipus slanderously accused him. The Chorus tries to mediate, but Oedipus appears and charges Creon with treason. Jocasta and the Chorus beg Oedipus to be openminded: Oedipus unwillingly relents and allows Creon to go. Jocasta asks Oedipus why he is so upset and he tells her what Teiresias prophesied. Jocasta comforts him by telling him that there is no truth in oracles or prophets, and she has proof. Long ago an oracle told Laius that his own son would kill him, and as a result he and Jocasta gave their infant son to a shepherd to leave out on a hillside to die with a pin through its ankles. Yet Laius was killed by robbers, not by his own son, proof that the oracle was wrong. But something about her story troubles Oedipus; she said that Laius was killed at a place where three roads meet, and this reminds Oedipus of an incident from his past, when he killed a stranger at a place where

something bad is about to happen and join Jocasta's cry in begging the mystery to be left unresolved. Oedipus's men lead in an old shepherd, who is afraid to answer Oedipus's questions. But finally he tells Oedipus the truth. He did in fact give the messenger a baby boy, and that baby boy was Laius's son - the same son that Jocasta and Laius left on a hillside to die because of the oracle's prophecy. Finally the truth is clear - devastated, Oedipus exits into the palace. A messenger reveals that he grabbed a sword and searched for Jocasta with the intent to kill her. Upon entering her chamber, however, he finds that she has hanged herself. He takes the gold brooches from her dress and gouges his eyes out. He appears onstage again, blood streaming from his now blind eyes. He cries out that he, who has seen and done such vile things, shall never see again. He begs the Chorus to kill him. Creon enters, having heard the entire story, and begs Oedipus to come inside, where he will not be seen. Oedipus begs him to let him leave the city, and Creon tells him that he must consult Apollo first. Oedipus tells him that banishment was the punishment he declared for Laius's killer, and Creon agrees with him. Before he leaves forever, however, Oedipus asks to see his daughters and begs Creon to take care of them. Oedipus is then led away, while Creon and the girls go back in the palace. The Chorus, alone, laments Oedipus' tragic fate and his doomed lineage.

guy named Ross shows up to say that, since the old Thane of Cawdor turned out to be a traitor and will soon have his head lopped off and displayed on a pike, Macbeth gets to take his place as Thane of Cawdor. OK. That takes care of the first prophesy. We wonder what will happen next Macbeth reveals to us that the witch's prophecy has made him think, briefly, about "murder" but he's disgusted with the idea and feels super guilty about his "horrible imaginings." He says he's willing to leave things to "chance" if "chance" wants him to be king, then he doesn't have to lift a finger (against the current king) to make it happen. But later, when King Duncan announces that his son Malcolm will be heir to the throne, Macbeth begins to think about murder once again. He writes a letter to his ambitious wife, Lady Macbeth, who immediately begins to scheme about how to kill Duncan. (The first thing she needs to do is berate Macbeth and make him believe that he's not a "man" if he doesn't kill Duncan.) The King just so happens to be scheduled to visit the Macbeth's at their castle so that seems like a good time to take him out. Later, Macbeth hesitates about murdering the King after all, it's Macbeth's job to defend the guy, especially when he's a guest in Macbeth's home. But, Lady Macbeth isn't having any of his excuses. She tells Macbeth to stop being a wimp and to act like a "man." Besides, it'll be a piece of cake to drug the king's guards and then frame them for the murder. That night at Macbeth's castle, Macbeth sees an imaginary floating dagger pointing him in the direction of the guestroom where the king's snoozing away. After he does the deed, Macbeth trips out a little bit he hears strange voices and his wife has to tell him to snap out of it and calm down. (Lady Macbeth, by the way, says she would have killed the king herself but the guy looked too much like her father.) When Macduff (yeah, we know, there are more "Macsomebodies" in this play than an episode of Grey's Anatomy) finds the king's dead body, Macbeth kills the guards and accuses them of murdering the king. (How convenient. Now nobody will ever hear their side of the

Macbeth Summary How It All Goes Down On a dark and stormy night in Scotland, Macbeth, a noble army general, returns home after defending the Scottish King, Duncan, in battle. (Macbeth, by the way, was totally awesome on the battlefield he's good at disemboweling his enemies and he's proved himself to be a loyal, standup guy.) Along the way, Macbeth and his good pal, Banquo, run into three bearded witches (a.k.a. the "weird sisters"), who speak in rhymes and prophesy that Macbeth will be named Thane of Cawdor and King of Scotland. There's good news for Banquo, too he'll be father to a long line of future kings of Scotland, even though he won't get to be a king himself. Suddenly, the witches vanish into the "foul" and murky air. Whoa, think Macbeth and Banquo. Did that just happen or have we been nibbling on the "insane root"? (Banquo really does say "insane root.") The next thing we know, a

story.) When King Duncan's kids, Donalbain and Malcolm, find out what's happened, they high tail it out of Scotland so they can't be murdered too. Macbeth, then, is named king and things are gravy until Macbeth starts to worry about the witch's prophesy that Banquo's heirs will be kings. Macbeth's not about to let someone bump him off the throne so, he hires some hit-men to take care of Banquo and his son. Fleance, (Banquo's son) however, manages to escape after poor Banquo is murdered by Macbeth's henchman. For Macbeth, things continue to go downhill, as when Banquo's ghost haunts him at the dinner table in front of a bunch of important guests. (That s never fun.) Macbeth then decides to pop in on the Weird sisters for another prophesy. The witches reveal the following: 1) Macbeth should watch his back when it comes to Macduff (the guy who discovered the king's dead body); 2) "None of woman born shall harm Macbeth," which our boy takes to mean "nobody shall harm Macbeth" since everybody has a mom; 3) Macbeth has nothing to worry about until Birnam Wood (a forest) moves to Dunsinane. The sisters also show how has Macbeth a vision of eight kings, confirming their earlier prophesy that Banquo's heirs will rule Scotland. Rats! Banquo's heirs just won't go away. Macbeth resolves to do whatever it takes to secure his power, starting with killing off Macduff's family (since he can't get his hands on Macduff, who has run away to England). By now, nobody likes Macbeth and they think he's a tyrant. They also suspect he's had a little something to do with the recent murders of Duncan and Banquo. Meanwhile, Macduff and Malcolm pay a visit to the English King, Edward the Confessor, who, unlike Macbeth, is an awesome guy and a great king. (Shakespeare's English audience totally dug this flattering portrayal of King Edward, by the way.) When Ross shows up in England with news that Macbeth has had Macduff's wife and kids murdered, Macduff and Malcolm get down to the serious business of plotting to overthrow Macbeth with the help of English soldiers, who will do their best to help save Scotland from the tyrannous Macbeth. Meanwhile, Lady Macbeth isn't doing so hot. She sleepwalks, can't wash the imaginary blood from her

hands, and degenerates until she finally croaks. Macbeth famously responds to news of his wife's apparent suicide by saying that it would have been better if she had died at a more convenient time, since he's a tad busy preparing for battle. He also goes on to say that life is "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." (William Faulkner liked this line so much he used it for the title of one of his greatest works, The Sound and the Fury.) Oh well, at least Macbeth is safe because the witches have said "none of woman born shall harm" him, right? Not so fast. Macduff and Malcolm have recently shown up with a big army that's looking to put Macbeth's head on a pike. Then, Malcolm orders the troops to cut the branches from the trees in Birnam Wood for camouflage. Remember what the weird sisters said about Birnam Wood moving to Dunsinane? You know where this is headed, right? Macduff corners Macbeth in the castle, calls him a "hellhound," and tells Macbeth that he, Macduff, was "untimely ripped" from his mother's womb. So much for Macbeth not being killed by any man "of woman born." (Apparently, being delivered via cesarean section doesn't count as being "born" in this play.) Macbeth says something like "Oh, no!" (he doesn't have much to say at this point) just before Macduff slays him and carries his severed head to Malcolm, who will soon be crowned king.

Summary of Perelandra by C. S. Lewis Based on the Wikipedia article: The story starts with the philologist Elwin Ransom, some years after his return from Malacandra at the end of Out of the Silent Planet, receiving a new mission from Oyarsa, the angelic ruler of Mars. Ransom is to travel to Perelandra, home to a new Adam and Eve, to oppose the diabolically-inspired human physicist Professor Weston, who has been sent to tempt the Eve figure. Ransom arrives in Perelandra and finds it to be an oceanic paradise. The sky is golden and very bright but opaque. The sun cannot be seen; hence the night is pitch black with no stars visible. Strange, colorful, but peaceful creatures roam the planetary sweet-water ocean, which is dotted with floating rafts of vegetation. These rafts look like small islands, and

actually have plant life growing on them and animals living on them; however, due to the ocean underneath, they are in a constant state of motion. A mountainous island, called the Fixed Land, is one of the few pieces of solid landsurface on the planet. Ransom soon meets Tinidril, the Queen of the planet; unlike the inhabitants of Mars in Out of the Silent Planet, she is humanoid though with green skin. She and Tor, the King of the planet, are the only human inhabitants, the Eve and Adam of their world. They live on the floating islands and are forbidden to sleep on the Fixed Land. Soon after Ransom's arrival, Professor Weston arrives in a spaceship and lands in a part of the ocean quite close to the Fixed Land. During his first encounter with Ransom, he invites demonic possession, which happens; he is thereafter referred to as "the Unman." The Unman finds the Queen, and tries to tempt her into defying God and spending a night on the fixed land. Ransom believes that he must act as a counter-tempter. Ransom realizes that if the pristine green lady who never heard of Evil succumbs to the Unman's arguments, the Fall of Man will be re-enacted on Perelandra. He does his best during day after day of lengthy arguments illustrating various approaches to temptation, but the demonic Weston shows super-human brilliance in debate (though when "off-duty" he displays moronic, asinine behaviour and small-minded viciousness) and moreover appears in no need of sleep. With the Unman on the verge of winning, the desperate Ransom hears in the night what he gradually realises is a Divine voice, commanding him to physically destroy the Tempter. Ransom is highly reluctant, and debates with the divine (inner) voice, but ultimately obeys. Ransom attacks his opponent bare-handed, using only physical force. The Unman, though demonic, is only equipped with a middle-aged human body comparable to Ransom's so the match is even on the physical plane. After being worn down, the Unman flees, whereupon Ransom chases him over the ocean, both riding the backs of giant fish. During a fleeting truce, the "real" Weston momentarily re-inhabits his body, and the conversation between himself and Ransom displays Lewis' horrific vision of what Hell is: the damned soul is not consigned to the pain of flames, but is absorbed and "digested" by the Devil, eventually losing its personality completely. While Ransom is distracted by his horror and his feelings of pity and compassion for the utterly damned Weston, the demon takes control of the body, surprises Ransom, and tries to drown him. The two find themselves trapped in a subterranean cavern. Ransom seemingly kills Weston and escapes the cavern, searching for a route to the

surface. Weston's body, horribly injured but still animated by the devil, follows him. Finally, Ransom smashes the Unman's head with a stone and consigns the body to volcanic flames. Returning to the planet's surface after a long journey through the caverns of Perelandra, Ransom recuperates from his injuries, all of which heal fully except for a bite on his heel which he sustained at some point in the battle, which continues bleeding for the rest of his life. Ransom meets the King and Queen together with the Oyresu of Malacandra and Perelandra, all of whom celebrate the beginning of a paradisal world. The story climaxes with Ransom's vision of "the Great Dance" of creation. His mission accomplished, Ransom returns, rather reluctantly, to Earth to continue the fight against the forces of evil on their own territory.

Empirical Intercultural Communication When it comes to talking about intercultural communication , misunderstanding and miscommunication are never far away. A typical example would be an intercultural communication title such as When cultures collide (Lewis 2000). More academic publications tend to be more guarded in their language but many do include statements such as these among their mission statements: describe the meaning and implications of interculturality and analyse the reasons for cross-cultural misunderstandings 1 a statement that presupposes misunderstandings ; or intercultural communication necessarily involves a clash of communicator style . 2 The pervasive association between intercultural communication and misunderstanding has recently led some 214 . Ingrid Piller 2007 The Author Language and Linguistic Compass 1/3 (2007): 208 226, 10.1111/j.1749-818x.2007.00012.x Journal Compilation 2007 Blackwell Publishing Ltdscholars to go Beyond misunderstandings (Bhrig and ten Thije 2006) but, on the whole, there are few publications in cross-cultural and intercultural communication that do not aim to contribute to bridging cultural conflicts (LeBaron 2003) or to developing intercultural competence (Byram et al. 2001). The good will that emanates from numerous crosscultural and

intercultural communication texts is best expressed by the often-quoted Deborah Tannen (1986: 43) dictum: the fate of the earth depends on cross-cultural communication. Somewhat provocatively, I am tempted to re-formulate this statement as Cross-cultural communication is part of the world s problems. Our contemporary obsession with culture and cultural difference and intercultural communication is a way of seeing (Berger 1972). In thrall to a cultural worldview, we see culture where linguistic proficiency and communicative competence (or their lack), and inequality and injustice would explain much more. Hinnenkamp (1987: 176) compares cultural ways of seeing in cross-cultural and intercultural communication to an imaginary joker up the researcher s sleeve: Culture as adapted in most linguistic subdisciplines has unfortunately become a passe partout-notion: whenever there is a need for a global explanation of differences between members of different speech communities the culture-card is played the more distant in geographic and linguistic origin, the more cultural difference ! In the following, I will argue the point that cross-cultural and intercultural communication is mistaken in considering culture a key variable in human

understanding and misunderstanding in two ways. In the first part of my argument, I will show that some misunderstandings that are considered cultural are in fact linguistic misunderstandings. In the second part of my argument, I will show that some misunderstandings that are considered cultural are in fact based on inequality and taking recourse to intercultural communication can serve to obfuscate relationships of global inequality and injustice. The first argument is based on work in the tradition of interactional sociolinguistics and bilingualism studies, and the second in work that draws inspiration from a combination of critical sociolinguistic ethnography and discourse analysis and related approaches, and is most cogently presented in Blommaert (2005). Both these approaches and arguments are empirical, which in this context means first and foremost that they do not treat cultural group membership as an a priori assumption.

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