Faustus
The lastest unit that my British Lit. class and I have done is The Tragic History of Doctor Faustus.You heard me mention it briefly here, in that entry.
It's about a dissatisfied man with his limited knowledge despite he is by all definition 'intelligent' and 'learned,' because he is a doctor. With his desire for more knowledge he tempts the devil and sells his soul. For 24 years, he has a devil companion, Mephistophilis, and they commit all sorts of mischievous tricks. Throughout all this time, he has been asked by angels and an old man to repent and save his soul, but Faustus is always brought back to his greed and pride. In the end, Faustus is damned to hell.
I had a preliminary response: Who is to blame for the downfall of Dr. Faustus: Faustus himself, the devil with his cohorts, and/or God?
I responded that it was not only Faustus' fault but God's as well. I left the devils out of the entire answer.
Today, I watched a highschool rendition. Every other scene, there was this guy, who paced the stage staring longly at the character, Faustus, and as soon as I saw him look that 'way,' I knew to myself that the performers and crew were trying to portray him as God.
This character was lacking in the text when I read it, so I was fascinated by his non-speaking part, the way he longed without words to save Faustus.
I know it's crazy but the way this boy's character looked at Faustus moved me. And I felt something. And it was strange but I didn't know what it was because it was fleeting.
I thought about how I blamed God repeatedly for the downfall of Faustus in that response that I wrote. How I questioned what kind of loving 'father' he was.
And I thought about how God just sat there and saw all the evil, sinful things that Faustus did and he just looked sad. And I felt sad for him. Air. Clouds. Breathe.
