Layers of Identity: The Dress Code of Society

I am sure that there are times when Spiderman’s suit is too hot for the weather. I am sure that there are times when Spiderman would prefer to wear a green suit, to compliment his eyes. I am sure that there are times when Spiderman’s suit is uncomfortably tight, and he would prefer a figure-flattering cut. But there are also times when it is in this suit, and in this suit only, that he saves the world. In his old-fashioned, red, tight suit, Spiderman rescues others, and in turn, rescues himself.

Jim Hall’s Spiderman brings into question the idea of an identity that is eternal (“fwame wesistent”), for better or for worse. Identities, or suits, as Hall describes them, often fulfill the requirements of society, but are not fully satisfactory to the person wearing the “suit.” It is particularly ironic that the focus of Hall’s poem is Spiderman, an idealized character whose “flawless” persona is envied by all mortals. Who wouldn’t want to be Spiderman? Well…Spiderman wouldn’t.

An identity may not be reduced to a single image, description, or thought. Instead, identity is a complex formation made of many layers, each responsible for a separate image. It is the combination of each layer that creates the larger impression, which we have labeled identity. Much like the layers of rock in the Grand Canyon, the layers of identity are dense, products of time, and somewhat stationary. Each layer supports the one before it, and thus, identity is an ever-growing, dependent mass. One layer buried beneath the next eventually creates an enduring structure. Inevitably, some layers of identity are preferable, and others, a burden. The day that someone has an identity composed devoid of ambiguous layers, the game of character will be won. Until then, as imperfect beings, we are forced to contemplate our existence with our few faulty layers. Although it is these layers that bring upon us unavoidable internal conflict, it is the compilation of these layers that makes up the wonders of the world.

Identities, like suits, are appropriate in some situations, and in others, they do not fit the dress code. With the dress code set, and only one suit in our closet, the best we can do is to wear it and own it; remember, it’s all in the walk. We all wish that our suit had no signs of wear and tear, no visible stains, proving its imperfection. We can accessorize it, we can hide it, we can even deny it, but the suit is a part of our wardrobe. Ironically, only stains that remain unacknowledged by the wearer are identifiable by the outside world. Hiding the imperfection can lead to its very emphasis. It is important to remember, though, that no suit comes without its imperfections. Perhaps the greatest irony of all is that the dress never makes the party. Overdressed, undressed, and not dressed at all, as long as we come eager to dance, who will notice what the hell we are wearing. (500)

Antigone: Defining Bravery

Antigone is a play of balance; it is the balance of ethics and immorality, past and future, logic and passion. The scales continue to tip throughout the play, as Sophocles never lets the plot steady itself. This perpetual motion rocks even the most stable characters. The art of this timeless play is its ability to put into question the defined. Antigone is clearly a brave character, but is bravery still bravery if it is motivated by cowardice?

Antigone is so passionate about her values that she is willing to give up her life to protect them. Many may argue that the greatest historical and literary figures have made impacts only from this type of passion. In contrast to her sister’s approach, Ismene characterizes cautious logic. Ismene’s mental balance contrasts Antigone’s faith in extreme solutions. However, I question Antigone’s motive. Does Antigone rebel because of her deeply rooted principles? Or, perhaps, Antigone needs to prove to herself the power she holds over her own life­—the ability to surpass fate, which has been the vulnerability of her lineage.

Antigone refuses to let the scale balance, for she thrives off of controversy. She has succeeded in revolting against Creon’s law by burying her brother, but this does not satisfy her. Antigone buries her brother a second time, during which she is caught (29). It is at the point that I wonder if she is motivated not by her bravery, but by her self-righteous desire to control her fate. She cannot control the past, and thus, she wishes to control the future. In common with her sister, constant grieving has exhausted her (16). Antigone wishes to die “honorably” and rest with the ones whom she loves, for she cannot bear living any longer. Ismene agrees, yet finds the strength to resist the temptation of death. Ismene may be the stronger of the two sisters.

The idea of control is so frightening yet tempting to Antigone that it ultimately overwhelms her. She, unlike her ancestors, has the power to choose her destiny. She cannot balance her own desires, and consequently settles on death. In this case, death may be the easiest and least risky of her choices. Living, like Ismene, with the ability of self-control is far too dangerous for Antigone. Instead, Antigone disguises her fear of control in mock bravery. Antigone’s internal battle manifests itself in the form of confronting the inadequacies of society. Perhaps it is Ismene, often titled the coward, who is brave, for it is Ismene who is willing to carry the burden of logic over the appeal of passion. (430)