For a king, the choosing of a wife was a highly political affair. Henry III thought that the main point of royal marriage lay in the strengthening of political ties. For Edward III childbearing was the main point when he chose to marry Philippa of Hainault because of her broad hips, rather than her sister. He was proven right in the event, as the marriage showed nine surviving children to its credit. John of Gaunt, one of their sons, is ancestor to a huge proportion of people in England, as well as to the Queen and the aristocracy.

But Hilton is more interested in the women's side of the bargain. Her investigation brings forth the history of these remarkable women quite at odds with their demure portraits, their aloof tombs, or the saint-like images in ancient texts. Living in the heart of power they had power. Each of them used it in her own fashion.

Hilton highlights the ambiguity of the role as Queen Consort and provides a full portrait of each of the Queens. She forcefully dispels any idea one might have had about powerless medieval brides used as pawns in diplomacy. These women had clout and used it, as shown by Eleanor of Aquitaine who was probably the most powerful woman of her time.

For Hilton, the main outflow of this queenly power manifested itself in pleading for mercy, in interceding, and in charity, thereby providing a counter-balance to the absolute power of the king. The most famous incident of all is Philippa's rescue of the citizens of Calais in 1347. The incident has been commemorated as late as 1889 by Auguste Rodin in a monumental bronze ensemble, or 1914 in a play by Georg Kaiser.

from Flickr

It is a mixed lot that is presented in the book, obviously. It took me longer than normal to read it, because keeping all the Isabellas and Matildas straight is an effort. Hilton helps hugely with this by providing detailed genealogies to sort them into the time frame. All the same I was swearing more than once at unimaginative medieval parents.

The book is a good read and makes one want to know more about these women at the centre of power.

Sadly, we've also read some books that were not even close to their true potential. Clusters of ill-conceived ideas, mangled sentence structure and the lack of a plot can all make you shut such a book at a moment's notice.

Would you like to know what makes me cringe? I was recently asked to read someone's work that they had been promoting for months. The anticipation of beholding the first chapter and tearing into it like a medium-well steak made my blood boil with excitement. Soon, it would be upon me like a theif in the night, on top of me like the roof over my head.

I could stand it no more. The hype had driven me mad. The day came when the first chapter was ready for hungry eyes and I greedily snapped it up like a fish on a hook, eager to taste what could very well be the "Next Big Thing".

My jaw dropped. Months of waiting on this first piece of narrative made me want to cry inside. I was at a loss for words. Run-on sentences, boring plot, horrendous grammar errors displayed for the world to see-- I wanted to vomit.

Truth of the matter is, I love what I do. While I do it in my spare time, I consider it more of a career than a stupid little hobby I occasionally find time for. When someone writes garbage like this, it's like they just don't care. Words on a page, that's all they are.

The problem with this line of thinking is this. If you're just spewing dirt across the page, people aren't going to waste their time with your work. In fact, they're more likely to never read or purchase (That means BUY!!) any of your future work!!

I'll try to be short and sweet on this. You need to show me the reason why I'm bothering to read your content. Is this an original piece? Does it make sense? Several things on the example I spoke of earlier stood out, which I'd like to expand on. It was about an alien race taking over the earth. If I'm being honest, I yawned.

The concept is nothing new, but if written correctly, it can be regarded as an "incredible book." I always argue that people are capable of taking an overdone scenario and make it their own. Let's explore just how.

Plot

Your plot is what propels your storyline. In my book Carnal Instinct, Becky has just broken up with Arnold because he's moving 4 hours away. Somewhere in her heart, she realizes she is wrong, but it's too late. He's found someone else. And thus, begins her quest to reclaim 'what is rightfully hers.'

Character Development

Nobody likes cardboard characters. "Hello, Joey. How are you feeling?" This might be appropriate for a teacher to ask a student, but feels awkward if a third grader is speaking with a friend. Remove such awkwardness and if a character is constantly being challenged emotionally, socially and physically, (though not neccessarily all in each book per se) you should be on the road to greatness.

Spelling/ Grammar

I promise you; when I see things like this, I close a blog and shut a book. "i thought it was cool when i went over too the rivver it was cold and weyt and i took a swim my best friend came over after school and had a snakk with me it was cool." Disgusting and unprofessional.

Memorable?

Ten years from now, will I remember any of the content? What exactly was it that stuck with me? In my brand new book, GROUND, I've been told by various people how 'messed up' it is. They've given me examples of how their favorite scenes were acted out. The nice thing is, they have trouble choosing exactly the same scene. One might be the warden getting what's coming to him, or finding out what's going on in the prison. Whatever the case, make your readers nod in enjoyment.

Powerful?

Regardless of whether or not you're writing a romance novel or a chunky gore horror story, keep in mind that you need to keep your reader entertained. With a movie, you generally have the first 5 or ten minutes to catch your viewer's attention. With a book, it's much harder to guage. Grab them from the first pages of Chapter One, and never let go.

Know your audience!

This is very important! Who is going to be reading your work? If it's riddled with profanity and blood, I do hope you're not shopping it to Scholastic. Seriously.

Proper conclusions

While it's true the bad guy doesn't always win, there are many different options to explore. Does the bad guy get the girl? Does the hero get killed at the end? Make it interesting and make us drop our jaws when our hero does something you would have never imagined.

Thank you for reading my tips on what (to me) makes a great book.

“The husband is head of the wife," Paul explained, "as Christ is head of the church," (Bristow). This statement encompasses the cultural ideals of the late Greeks, Christians and Romans. But every head needs a neck to turn it, which is exactly what the women of the time were responsible for. Greek women were responsible for managing the household, and making decisions that would affect the family’s finances and reputation, two very important aspects determining success in the culture. It was a rare case for a woman to have any sort of public leadership, however (Hsia 98). One example of a woman who broke this norm was Apasia, Pericles’ lover. She had a great influence on the Athenian leader as she stepped up as his equal and was allowed to have an extensive public life with influence from the great minds of the day. This abnormal equality between man and his lover was so unusual that it was fraught with suspicions and rumors, as the people did not know what to think. The historian Xenophon explained that a marriage should bring together the natures of both husband and wife; with the wife making contributions to family life, discussing her ideas privately, while the husband brings the family’s concerns to the forefront politically (101).

Christianity as well did not allow for women to possess leadership roles after the early years. Women were, however, allowed to become nuns to display their devotion to god. In this way they held a position that influenced the image of the church and the decisions of the clergymen from behind the scenes. Some women were able to completely break free of their mold and were able to speak their mind publicly. These women were the hetaira, women of great wealth such as Elpinike, or rare cases such as Aspasia, who were allowed to use their speech outright in the presence of men (99-102).

Oedipus’ wife Jocasta had a great deal of influence on her husband’s beliefs. Jocasta did not believe in fate and so she fueled Oedipus’ hubris with her words, helping him to believe that he really was above the Gods. This hubris eventually brought about his downfall. In this case the woman behind the scenes helped bring about the fall of a kingdom, which is a rather powerful influence. Jocasta lulls Oedipus into false security by saying, “listen to me and learn some peace of mind: no skill in the world, nothing human can penetrate the future” (780-2).  Women’s words have had great influence on their man’s beliefs.

Comic drama and oratory in the fourth-century B.C.E. gave hints to women’s underlying power (Hsia 103). As seen in Lysistrata the women are responsible for bringing about peace after a long time of war which the men were not resolving. By using their “glamour” and embarking on a sex strike the women are able to control the decisions of their husbands and therefore the fate of the states. After Myrrhine denies her husband, leaving him with the message to vote for peace, he comments, “I’ll give it serious consideration” (Aristophanes 746). Women played a very powerful role in the decisions of their husbands; there is no telling how often this technique may have been used by wives to get their opinions heard. As Lysistrata put it, “we have some good advice, and if you shut up, as we used to, we can put you back on the right track” (Aristophanes 736).

A good example of a character that uses men to get her back on the right track is Medea. When abandoned by her husband, Jason, she manipulates him by using her children as a way to get him to trust her again. When he does, she uses him as a shuttle to get the poisoned dress to the Princess of Corinth. He admits he is under her power and remarks, “I have come at your request…I will listen To what new thing you want, woman” (Euripides 843-845). Medea is able to complete her goal and make her desires clear by using Jason as a vessel for her actions. Medea laments the role of women when she cries, “We women are the most unfortunate of creatures. …it is requited for us to buy a husband and take for our bodies A master;…nor can she say no to her marriage…she needs prophetic power…to manage him who shares her bed with her” (Euripides 228-38). Euripides highlights how the roles of women are unpleasant and seem to hold no power, however Medea is aware that she is able to “manage” Jason. It would be impossible for wives to manage their husbands without having their own ideas and opinions coming through. Medea does not use her sex appeal in this story, but instead uses cunning manipulation to get Jason to do exactly what she wants. Women are portrayed as being capable of many different methods of getting their feelings across to manage their men and reach their goals.

In Roman literature, such as in The Aeneid, this same message of woman’s influence over men is portrayed. In a crucial battle scene, Juturna, sister of one of the main warriors, convinces the Italian army to strike. This event is the kick-off step determining the history of the Romans, who are said to come into power after Turnus’ death (Virgil). Once again it is obvious that women have a very influential role on the men around them. They are able to use convincing speech to bring about what they feel is right. The Goddess Venus wishes to see Aeneas safe in battle and convinces her husband to create a new set of armor for him, bringing about his success by using Vulcan to get what she had wanted. Juno, too, made a deal with Jupiter as she wished to see the Latin culture remain autonomous. And so she is able to convince Jupiter into allowing it to be so. Her opinions on the way things should be are set into action by Jupiter when she dictates, “Never command the land’s own Latin folk…Dialect or dress. Let Latium be” (Virgil 12:48-51). Again woman controls the action of men.

It is evident that there is a strong and undeniable pulse of women that demonstrated their power under the mask of their men throughout the Greek, Roman and Christian history. Through their household and literature roles numerous examples are given of how women, both goddess and mortal, can use sex, speech and even their own children to get what they want. The women never put their own opinions into action but use manipulation to get their husbands to do all of the evident work, like ending the war, causing the death of royalty, and maintaining the Latin culture. It is a shame that throughout history they have not gotten the recognition that they deserve. It could be assumed that many of the historical changes brought about by male leaders were likely in some part due to their wives’ influence. The evidence is in the history and literature that the female race is clearly not so silent after all.

The arrogance of rich people is revealed in this novel. In one scene, Gatsby, a rich man, throws his shirt carelessly. The narrator, Nick, states “he brought more and the soft rich heap mounted higher”. By throwing his shirts, Gatsby is trying to show how rich he is in order to impress Daisy. He wants to prove that all of these expensive shirts he throws mean nothing to him, thus showing his arrogance. Another example of arrogance is shown in Tom, who is rich as well. Nick describes Tom, saying he seems to indirectly be telling Nick “Now, don't think my opinion on these matters is final, just because I'm stronger and more of a man than you are”. From Tom's looks alone, Nick can already see how arrogant he is. He thinks he is so tough because of all the money he has, so he puts on this kind of expression on his face. Wealth can sure make people cocky.

This novel also explains how money can make people careless. For example, when Nick goes with Gatsby for a ride, Gatsby drives recklessly. A police officer pulls him over, but Gatsby just flashes a white card, making the officer say “Know you next time, Mr. Gatsby. Excuse me!”. Gatsby drives so carelessly because he knows he can get away from trouble with the police because of his wealth. Knowing he will not get a ticket, he drives however he wishes to, not caring about the dangers of driving in such a manner. In the same way, Nick realizes how careless Tom and Daisy are because of their wealth.

He clearly states “They were careless people, Tom and Daisy - they smashed up things and creatures and they retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made”. This message is very deep because the truth about Tom and Daisy's carelessness is revealed so clearly. Their carelessness is what caused Daisy to accidentally kill Myrtle while driving, not knowing she would hurt her own husband. These two examples unmistakably show how wealth can truly corrupt a person's mind.

Rich people live quite differently from the way an average person lives. They see themselves as higher than others, and they always try to prove how rich they are. People are wrong in thinking money is the cure for anything. There are many things people cannot get with money. Some of these include love, precious moments, and the world. Money is not as great as everybody sees it to be; there are many things money cannot buy.

The repressive regime of the Empire purposefully instills fear in its people to keep them ignorant and therefore subject to their dictation. The people of the village are kept under constant fear of a race of people they have never known to harm them. By encouraging this fear through violent campaigns against these barbarians, the Empire forces the people to rely on them for protection and knowledge rather than themselves.

Coetzee uses the magistrate to illustrate the journey of learning the true nature of oneself, and how this will ultimately lead to a rebellion against violence. In the beginning of the novel, the Magistrate does not feel accountable for the actions of his government in his jurisdiction. He turns a blind eye on the injustice and violence of the state and allows them to infiltrate his town in defense against the barbarian threat. This marks the beginning of his journey to self understanding.

At this time, the magistrate desires merely to bide his time towards retirement in hopes that the remainder of his service is peaceful and uneventful. Here Coetzee demonstrates the passivity and indifference of the people under such repressive regimes. By forcing the people to rely on them for protection and even what to think about others, the Empire has caused the people to lack ambition to improve themselves and the world they live in. Therefore, when the people believe the Empire is treating someone unjustly, instead of questioning and challenging it, the people place more trust in the Empire's judgment than their own and allow the cruelty to continue. If the people came to know and understand themselves, they would be able to trust their own judgment enough to know when it should overrule the judgment of their government.

When Colonel Joll tortures the boy and the man, the magistrate begins to question the justification of the punishment. This is the first instance the magistrate begins to challenge authority and takes some responsibility for the actions of his government. By defiantly questioning Colonel Joll's torture of the old man and boy, the Magistrate learns that Joll justifies using torture to obtain information because he believes "Pain is truth; all else is subject to doubt" (Coetzee 5). In this case, Joll does find himself accountable for the violence he commits, but justifies his continuance as a service to the people. Whereas the Magistrate also finds himself accountable for the violence committed by Colonel Joll, he feels responsible for supporting his victims after their torture. The magistrate even provides the boy with a plan to escape more torture from Joll by telling him to "tell the officer the truth" (Coetzee 7).

However, by this time, it is questionable that the truth is all that Joll seeks from his torture since he has killed an old man and is still torturing a young boy who are both very unlikely candidates to be in a raiding party due to their health and age respectively. If they were not in the raiding party, they would have had no knowledge of the movements of the barbarians. Not only does this element make Joll's torture suspicious, but eventually he submits the boy's confession of being part of the raiding party. Joll did not torture them to discover the truth, but to encourage the fears of the locals that they are in constant danger of being attacked by the barbarians.

From this we see that Coetzee provides an explanation for the actions of both the opressor (Joll) and the oppressed (magistrate) and how their relationship is interchangeable. Even after helping the boy get cleaned and cared for after being tortured, the Magistrate still turns a blind eye when Joll tortures him again the next night saying, "for a while I stopped my ears to the noises coming from the hut by the granary where the tools are kept" (Coetzee 9). Here the reader may question the Magistrate's reasoning for placing all blame on Joll. If the Magistrate allows such injustice to be committed under his service, is he not responsible as well? He wonders how Joll can live amongst clean peoples while his hands are filthy with violence, "Does he wash his hands very carefully, perhaps, or change all his clothes, or has the Bureau created new men who can pass without disquiet between the unclean and the clean?" (Coetzee 12). Yet he never turns this questioning on himself, looking introspectively at his own contributions to the violence committed.

Once the fishing peoples are captured as prisoners by Joll's forces, the magistrate accuses the Empire of being ignorant. Now, the magistrate is beginning to recognize the connection between ignorance and violence. He openly defies their actions and immediately realizes that, "One should never disparage officers in front of men" (Coetzee 17). The magistrate is still on the fence at this point, he recognizes the mistakes and injustices of the Bureau, and thinks of ways to halt them, but is still afraid to act in complete defiance of their authority. He considers how to handle the problem of the prisoners from the fishing tribe, "If I unlock the gate in the dead of night, I wonder will the fisher folk sneak away? But I do nothing" (Coetzee 20). Here, the magistrate remains passive-aggressive in his contradicting idealism because he has been conditioned his entire life to obey the Empire without questioning its morality or intentions.

What finally leads the magistrate to understand himself is his interactions with the barbarian girl. The magistrate has lived in the town and served the people for many years, yet he is in great isolation. His perpetual isolation makes it difficult for him to feel accountable for what he has allowed the Colonel to do in his jurisdiction. After Joll leaves, the magistrate feels that the violence has left his town stating that he is now "relieved of my burden and happy to be alone in a world I know and understand" (Coetzee 14). This statement shows that the magistrate is not familiar with the presence of violence. This is partly why he does not feel accountable for the violence of the Colonel against the suspected barbarians. He does not understand violence, why it is committed, or how to stop it. Once the magistrate knows the barbarian girl, he begins to know himself. This allows him to have more faith in his judgment and thereby question the violence that not only the Empire commits against the barbarians, but also that which he commits against the barbarian girl.

The interest that the magistrate develops for the blind barbarian girl eventually leads him to a recognition and understanding of violence. She has been mutilated by the officers who captured her. They have destroyed her foot and ruined her eyesight as well as killed her father. Coetzee shows the magistrate's fascination with the girl, which could be read as a dual fascination with violence, not only in the form of the violence committed against her by the officers, but by the violence that he himself will commit against her. He takes her into his care, but then she has no choice to submit to his manipulation of her body, his touching and caressing. Although he establishes his relationship as one of kindness and care, he does act violently against her by forcing himself upon her, not by sexual intercourse, but through other physical contact.

Here the reader may draw a parallel between Joll and the magistrate. Joll justifies his intense pleasure in torturing by claiming it is a necessary evil to discover the truth that will protect the people. The magistrate justifies his actions with the barbarian girl by classifying it just as he would if he were caring for a helpless and wounded animal. The magistrate takes deep pleasure from washing and caressing the girl, even saying "I lose myself in the rhythm of what I am doing. I lose awareness of the girl herself. There is a space and time which is blank to me; perhaps I am not even present." (Coetzee 28). By indulging himself in caressing this wounded girl, he becomes only aware of the pain and the scars of violence without being aware of the human herself. In acquiring this knowledge and familiarity with violence, the magistrate is in "rapture, of a kind" (Coetzee 29).

After some time with the girl, the magistrate begins to grow uncomfortable and confused with their relationship. He does not desire her sexually- he goes to other women to fulfill his sexual needs, but he gets such enjoyment from examining and feeling her body that he cannot come to any other conclusion than that he wants her, but something is holding him back. Finally he acknowledges that the girl is still violently oppressed, but now it is by him instead of the Bureau. The magistrate admits, "She is as much a prisoner now as ever before. Though my heart goes out to her, there is nothing I can do" (Coetzee 55). Now the magistrate is making an even bigger jump from innocence to guilt. Now he is actually instigating violence himself, by forcing his will upon the girl, instead of just letting violence go on in his presence. Still, he does not take any responsibility for correcting the wrongs that are being committed.

With time, the magistrate's guilt overwhelms his fear of rebelling against the Bureau and he decides to take a party to meet the barbarians and return the girl to her tribe. This is in direct opposition to what he is ordered to do by the Bureau. He not only leaves his post as magistrate, but he consorts with the enemy barbarians. When he returns from delivering the girl, he is confronted by Joll. To Joll this constitutes a friendship with the barbarians and he places the magistrate in jail. It is here that though imprisoned, the magistrate finally feels free, "I am aware of the source of my elation: my alliance with the guardians of the Empire is over, I have set myself in opposition, the bond is broken, I am a free man." (Coetzee 78).

As the officers return with more prisoners, this time chained by wires looped through their cheeks, the magistrate is horrified. He knows that now he must speak out to the people so they will realize the cruelty of the officers. This time he will act upon his conscience's pleadings because since he is already in prison, he is free. As he breaks out of his cell to see the new group of prisoners he asks, "What have I to lose?" (Coetzee 102). Now the magistrate heroically defies Joll by establishing the humanity of the barbarians and demanding their humane treatment:

"We are the great miracle of creation! But from some blows this miraculous body cannot repair itself! How - !" Words fail me. "Look at these men!" I recommence. "Men!" Those in the crowd who can crane to look at the prisoners, even at the flies that begin to settle on their bleeding welts. (Coetzee 107).

This speech is prompted by the conspiring of the gathering in the town to incite a little girl to contribute to the beating of the barbarian prisoners. This final despicable act inspires the magistrate's outburst. He realizes that each person is accountable for the violence against the barbarians, whether they are beating them, encouraging others to beat them, or merely standing by and watching the beatings. By repeatedly stating that the barbarians are men, humans, and deserve humane treatment, the magistrate finally shows the reader that he has come to self-realization. That self-realization allows him to realize the true nature of everything and enables him to rebel against the forces of cruelty that repress the barbarians.

Now that he has already consorted with the enemy, he is free to defend them as he should have from the beginning. Since he is already being reprimanded, he cannot be further punished. The magistrate exposes the violence for what it truly is- not a measurement of punishment or a preemptive strike against a known enemy- but a fear that is festered by reinforcement from the Bureau and ultimately the people themselves that keeps the people under the complete control and influence of the Empire. From his self-understanding comes his freedom, and from that comes his ability to confront the injustice of the Empire.

Works Cited

Coetzee, J.M. Waiting for the Barbarians. New York City, NY: Penguin Books, 1982.

By working at the Green-Davidson Hotel, Clyde is taking steps to a higher class. Once he obtains money, Clyde moves further away from his poor upbringing, and tries to impress others with his wealth. “ For here was fifty dollars in his pocket at the moment, with Hortense on one hand and his mother and sister on the other, and the money would solve his mother's problem as fully as it would Hortense's, and more respectably.” (pg.120) Clyde is so infatuated by Hortense that he spends money on her to keep her happy, but doing so is making a selfish decision, since the money could be better used by his family.

Clyde continues to show this selfish behavior in his thoughtless treatment of Roberta. “Tell her that you intend to marry her, but after you return from this outing, not before. And if necessary strike a light blow, so as to stun her--no more--so that falling in the water, she will drown more easily.”(pg.491) By refusing to marry her, Clyde shows that he would rather be rid of Roberta, than to lose his social status that he worked so hard to achieve. He is willing to let Roberta die, even though it is against the rules of society to kill another person. He has shifted even further away from his religious upbringing. Clyde considers Roberta to be unimportant and is only worried about himself and his social status. He believes that Roberta will destroy what he envisions for his future with Sondra.

Ironically, everything Clyde strived to achieve is destroyed once he's charged with Roberta's death. After Roberta's death and his arrest, he is unable to accept that he caused her to die, and tries to convince himself that it was an accident. “His desire for more--more--that intense desire he had felt there in Lycurgus after Sondra came and now this, this! And now even this was ending… and these last two years so miserably between these crushing walls.”(845-846) The trial gains national attention which makes his uncle, Samuel, try to distance himself from Clyde. He has lost his career opportunity, Sondra has had to leave town to not be involved, and the newspaper has portrayed him as worse than he really is. After he was convicted, he had lost his social stature, and to make it worse was sentenced to the electric chair, which brought him to an even lower class which was opposite of what he was trying to accomplish.

When people try to use ruthless methods to achieve their desires, it can give them opposite results than what they wanted. Politicians use negative campaigns to attain power and recognition, while making the other candidate seem horrible and unable to do a good job. When using this method, it often backfires upon them, and turns the people against them, which results in their loss of power that they had tried to achieve. Clyde and Hortense both use desperate means to obtain their desires while improving their status in society. They also manipulated others to get what they wanted without considering their feelings. Neither were able to achieve their goals: Hortense was disfigured and Clyde's ambition resulted in Roberta's death, which led to his own downfall from high society and his execution.

With a title of Death of a Salesman, it is no surprise that death and the departed play such a paramount role in the play; one example of such a departed is Ben. Ben, Willy's rich brother, is, to Willy, the epitome of success and the paradigm of prosperity. Early on, it becomes clear that Willy not only aspires to be like Ben, but also wants his children to be like him. Ben plays such a monumental role in Willy's life that even after his demise, he constantly appears in Willy's fantasies: “Why, boys, when I was seventeen I walked into the jungle, and when I was twenty-one I walked out.And by God I was rich” (Miller 48). A powerful quote by Ben, this is what Willy wants to happen to him and his kids. He wants to be rich, successful, and loved by all, like his brother Ben.

It is so significant of a quote that Miller employs repetition and has Ben say it again. The second time around, Willy explicitly states that that is the sprit he wants to imbue into his children. Willy's infatuation with wealth and triumph can be attributed to Ben and Dave Singleman, a salesman that left a deep impression on Willy.

Possibly more influential than Ben, Dave Singleman is the salesman Willy hopes to be. While alive, he is prosperous and revered by all. Willy even recounts to Howard: “Cause what could be more satisfying than to be able to go, at the age of eighty-four, into twenty or thrity different cities, and pick up a phone, and be remembered and loved and helped by so many different people?... When he died, hundreds of salesman and buyers were at his funeral” (81). It is obvious from Willy's speech that Singleman is the topmost seller and the single most important reason why Willy decides to become a salesman. When Willy gives his speech to Howard, he starts almost every sentence with “and”; this use of polysyndeton shows how excited Willy is in recounting the tale of Singleman and thus, how much respect Willy has for Singleman. It is from Singleman that Willy sees selling as a highly lucrative business.

It is from Singleman that Willy postulated that the only ingredient in success is amiability, for everyone adores Singleman. It is from Singleman that Willy wants a large funeral where everybody is present. In essence, it is from Singleman that Willy receives his dreams, his ideals, and his ambitions. Singleman has such a great importance in Willy's life that if Willy had never learned about him, then the story would be completely different. Most likely, Willy would not be been a salesman and would follow his sibling Ben to Alaska. Additionally, Willy's definition of success and the American dream would be completely different. When Singleman arrived into Willy's life, he imbued his traits into Willy's malleable mind.

Willy's own death has as much of an effect on his family as Ben's and Singleman's deaths have on Willy; his death has different effects on his two son's own personal dreams. To Happy, Willy's death reinforces the notion that the Lomans are meant to be great and successful. To Biff, who has an epiphany, Willy's death strengthens the fallacy of Willy's dream. Biff, the foil of Happy because of his pragmatic nature, realizes that Willy's personal dream would never come true. Willy's dream is too idealistic and would never work in the harsh business world, where everyone only seeks personal gain. Willy's death ultimately changes Biff's perception of the world, his views, and his own personal dreams. On the other hand, it reinforces Happy's ideas and dreams, which are already heavily instilled in him. Whether or not Willy's death has a positive or negative effect on the other characters is debatable. What is well established is its tremendous effect on the characters, and along with Ben and Singleman, Willy is a clear demonstration of death's compelling capabilities.

Similar to those in Death of a Salesman, the dead in A Raisin in the Sun also have a tremendous influence on those who are alive. Although there are fewer dead characters in Hansberry's play, the few that are dead are pivotal in the formation of the living's aspirations and ideas. The first pivotal deceased character is Big Walter, the perished husband of Lena Younger. Even though Big Walter never appears in the play, he still has an importance that drives the play's plot. What is perhaps most important about Walter Younger is the life insurance money that comes with his death. It is with this money that the characters' dreams are founded on, because they themselves have little money. To Beneatha, the money represents the prospect of becoming a doctor, because with this money, she can afford her way to medical. To Mama, the money represents a home for the family to finally settle in and leave the apartment. To Ruth, the money also represents a house; with a house, she can have the child she initially wishes to abort. Finally, to Walter Lee, the money represents the opportunity to invest in a liquor store that would make him rich enough to make a name for himself and provide for his child. All these dreams depend on a single check that would not come if Walter Younger is not dead.

Despite that many characters would still have these dreams if there is no check, they would certainly not cherish it as much. Without the insurance money, their dreams could not be realized and so, they would not give it much of a thought. With the check, they can finally realize their dreams. These competing dreams also create a drift within the family and enforce the ideas of certain characters. Beneatha, for example, is more disdainful towards Walter, who she believes to be absolutely profligate. Walter Lee, on the other hand, also holds on firmly to his own beliefs: he finds Beneatha to be selfish and women's education to be unnecessary. Again, although there is most likely a certain degree of discord within the family prior to the news of the insurance money, that discord would not be as great if not for Big Walter's money and death. This all comes to show Big Walter's enormous influence on the family, even from his grave.

Other than Walter Younger, the unnamed ancestors of the Younger family also have much control on the living characters. To Mama and later on to Walter Lee, their ancestors are their sense of pride. These two characters proudly allude to the fact that they can trace their ancestors to five generations. When Walter finally confronts Mr. Lindner and tells Lindner how he is not interested in the money, he says: “What I am telling you is that we called you over here to tell you that we are very proud and that this is - this is my son, who makes the sixth generation of our family in this country, that we have all thought about you offer and we have decided to move into our house because my father - my father - he earned it” (Hansberry 127-128). Although it is ironic that Walter gives the most noble and passionate speech in the play, the fact that he says it is not only testimony to the static nature of his character, but also how much he values his heritage. If not for the Younger family's many ancestors, Walter Lee and Mama would not have their familial pride. This pride, along with many other factors, tells Lindner to leave. Influential in the characters' thoughts and ideas, the ancestors help shape the characters.

It may be scary to some people how much power the dead has on their lives. After all, American author Margaret Landon once said, “Can that man be dead, whose spiritual influence is upon his kind?” (Landon). The reposing influences the actions and thoughts of some people so much that it is as if they are alive. These actions eventually shape their lives and personality. The deceased influences the characters in Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman and Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin in the Sun as normal people today. Miller clarifies that the lives of Singleman and Ben highly alter Willy's malleable ideas and dreams. After Willy's death, he affects his family just as much. In A Raisin in the Sun, Big Walter's death and the money that comes with his death is what the characters establish their hopes and aspirations on. Has it not been for the dead in both of these plays, the characters' dreams would not be as strong nor as established. All this makes people think, are their dreams a result of their deceased ancestors?

"We must never forget that we may also find meaning in life even when confronted with a hopeless situation, when facing a fate that cannot be changed. For what then matters is to bear witness to the uniquely human potential at its best, which is to transform a personal tragedy into a triumph, to turn one's predicament into a human achievement." (Viktor Frankl).

Frankl was a world renowned psychiatrist who was incarcerated in the Nazi concentration camps and not only lived to tell the tale, but survived with a fierce passion for the power of his mind and how that alone kept him free throughout the entire length of his imprisonment. The limitless power of a person's will to survive at all costs is exemplified in “Man's Search for Meaning” by Frankl.

Frankl's story has inspired countless lives, including my own. He has taught me that no matter how difficult, how dire one's situation may seem at any given moment the capacity of the human spirit to endure, to persevere is an endless oceanic wonderment. The only limits in any aspect of our lives are set by us and us alone. We may think that others shut doors for us, lock them and throw keys away, but there is always a window, there is always a loose nail in the hinge, there is always another way.

If one man can endure, can keep his sanity, his will to live and continue forth in life after witnesses some of the most horrific tragedies known to man and history, we are thus shown that we all can endure. We all can emerge from any trauma stronger, wiser, empowered; more alive than ever before.

Do not ever forget: A coal with enough weather, time, heat and pressure, eventually emerges as the rare immaculate, piercing diamond.

In his 1940 novel The Power and the Glory, Graham Greene portrays the life and struggle of a Catholic priest who is being persecuted for not forsaking his faith in the aftermath of the Mexican Revolution. The social and emotional hardships he has to endure are not only inflicted upon him externally, they also emerge from his own consciousness and his sense of moral. Issues like his alcoholism, his inability to leave the country and, thereby, protect his people from being treated as his collaborators and the fact that he has fathered a child constantly haunt him during his attempt to escape his conviction. Additionally, the nameless priest undergoes a serious crisis of faith as each of his actions marks another step closer to or away from Jesus' example of selflessness.

Throughout the novel, Greene makes extensive use of literary symbols and equips his characters, scenery and story line with certain aspects that hint on a deeper, yet cryptic meaning. The aim of this term paper is to give The Power and the Glory a close reading in regard to selected incidents of symbolism and to analyse the way Greene manages to entwine different layers of sociological, emotional, religious and political issues in a single plot through the application of allegory and symbols. Further, it will be focussed on the explanation and interpretation of his allusions and possible ways of relating them to the larger context of his novel. Finally, an identification of the characters' classical role allocations will be attempted with an emphasis on their particular purpose within the story and with paying attention to their embedding and relevance within the plot.

The Power and the Glory draws its narrative strength and literary depth from Greene's skill to build up a world filled with controversy that, nonetheless, in itself does not lack plausibility. Malamet calls it “a remarkable example of how the fundamental structural principle of the mystery story, that of deferral, can help to unfold the meaning of one of Greene's starkest theological dramas” (31), although the overall tension that his work evokes is not least based on a tightly woven network of symbols that can be traced throughout the novel. Thus, a critical analysis of his modus operandi concerning symbols and allegories appears promising.

Symbolism in Greene's Characters

One of the key factors that The Power and the Glory owes its vivid density to is the arrangement of the main and supportive characters, whose interactions and sentiments set the foundation on which the whole novel relies. The plot unfolds around a central protagonist, a Mexican priest who throughout the course of the story line remains nameless. The reader witnesses his torn personality as well as a process of constant motivational change that results either from his intervening consciousness or his encounter with various supportive characters. A striking feature of the characters in question is that each of them seems to typify one of the priest's emotional properties. Pattern explains:

[T]he people whom the priest meets are all symbolic of some aspect of the human condition: a trapped man (Mr. Tench), a criminal (the American gunman), purposefulness without purpose (the lieutenant), children who cannot be well understood (Brigida and Coral), a lapsed priest (Padre José), Judas (the mestizo), a beggar with inside information (nameless, but like the priest), a pious woman (likewise nameless, but art of his old self), lovers (his temptation) - in short,

[. . .] he travels an unknown way, continually meeting portions of his own character[. . .]. (321)

Apart from their collective existence in the priest, Greene's supportive characters hold further figurative value and attest an overwhelmingly complex character conception to the author.

2.1 The Priest

As the main protagonist of Greene's The Power and the Glory, the priest occupies a unique position within the plot's framework. Not only does his destiny set the readers' focus of attention, but he is also the character which unveils the most detailed insight into his personal sphere of emotions and, thus, becomes most approachable. This idea finds support in the assumption that he is far from being an ideal Roman Catholic priest who is by definition obliged to honour his vows given to his church and, thus, to completely submit to his god's commandments. On the contrary, the portrayal of the nameless priest as a simple human being, who is not immune to vice and sin rather than an example of moral values, crosses the gap between audience and lead character.

The concept of the sinful priest is elaborated on by minor transgressions which occur rather casually. When he is asked his name during the village raid he replies with the name of one of the hostages who was killed for harbouring the priest, Montez (cf. Greene 75). In itself, this already opposes God's commandment “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour” (The Holy Bible, 2Mo. 20.16), but it might also hint on an allusion within a larger context. The priest refrains from abandoning his alias on two further occasions, namely when being arrested (Greene 120) and when being questioned in jail (Greene 139). These three incidents of disowning himself can be interpreted as a reference to the biblical story of Jesus' last supper and the prediction he makes regarding his disciple Peter who is to deny his lord three times before the cock crow twice (cf. The Holy Bible, Mk. 14.30). The fact that the nameless priest does not reveal his real identity and rather negate his true name, while it is his own name he negates in contrast to Peter who negates his association with Christ (cf. The Holy Bible, Mk. 14.72), establishes a dualistic structure in the character of the priest. He is both at the very heart of his own faith as well as a traitor in respect of his religious sturdiness.

Other parallels between the priest and Christ can be detected in the motif of being chased, captured and finally executed by the regimes against whose ideological predominance the perseverance of either men stands. When the priest has finally decided that he's “had enough of escaping” (Greene 190), he leaves behind his former modes of action, which involved lies and disguises. He openly returns to the wounded American to aid him, knowing that this means “walk[ing] into [the] trap” (Greene 186) set up for him by the authorities and the mestizo. In conjunction with being betrayed by the half-caste it is striking that the priest “bore no grudge because he expected nothing else of anything human” (Greene 198). As Jesus does not condemn Judas, the nameless priest forgives his betrayer, although Jesus' motivation must be identified as love towards mankind (cf. The Holy Bible, Lu. 23.34) whereas the priest is simply disillusioned regarding human nature. As a result, certain aspects of the priest's personality first allude to Christ's ideals but are then unmasked as side effects of a misanthropic world view. His pessimistic approach is, nonetheless, shaken by the honest “love” (Greene 82) to his daughter and the sincere care he expresses for her mother. Their relationship remains distanced (cf. Greene 78-82) , though, and a close emotional connection to the two reminders of his failing as a Catholic priest cannot be established. A pattern that dominates the nameless priest's behaviour is a distinct tendency to fall into religious routines. He constantly urges himself to fill acquired religious concepts with feelings, which makes him confess his sins to himself relentlessly, yet mechanically (cf. Greene 207-210). Generally, his faith is often perverted by a shift to stiffened religious customs. Triggered by the respectful and uncloaked interest that the parishioners on the other side of the mountains bestow him, he suddenly is seized by an unintended vanity when “he could feel the old life hardening round him like a habit, a stony cast which held his head high and dictated the way he walked, and even formed his words” (Greene 187f). Combined with the manner in which the parishioners haggle for the prices of baptisms (cf. Greene 167, 170), this self-awareness possibly forced him to rethink his position and to finally return beyond the mountains when the half-caste again enters the scenery. However, it certainly puts his religious self-conception into perspective and makes him get closer to an inner stabilisation and to emotional settlement.

The most prevailing aspect of the priest's psyche is his personal conflict between responsibility and carelessness, which becomes observable in numerous situations. Not only is he an alcohol addict and, thus, often referred to as “a whisky priest” (Greene 60), and a self-proclaimed “coward” (Greene 49, 190) , but he also has a tendency to depressive notions and self-pity (cf. Greene 49, 141). Sudden onsets of spontaneous heroism (cf. Greene 77f) and his general awareness of the negative implications of his actions (cf. Greene 208), nonetheless, shine through the image of the failing priest and re-balance his portrayal. He is neither a typical literary role model, nor is he an average anti-hero. The nameless priest falls from one extreme into the other, which can be accredited to the extraordinary circumstances of his life. As a result, the main protagonist of the novel never ceases to surprise the reader and to highlight unexpected facets of the human character.

2.2 The Lieutenant

As a Mexican whose job and main aim it is to contribute to his people's safety and well-being, the lieutenant sees it as a duty of utmost importance to track down and capture any remaining active priest within his range (cf. Greene 25). The regime's argumentation has apparently influenced him in his personal opinion, which is rather opposed to engaging in any religious acts or commitments, as is depicted by the fact that “it infuriated him to think that there were still people in the state who believed in a loving and merciful God” (Greene 24). Though his personal structure of belief remains concealed, it is possible to assume that a belief in social revolution and the ideals of Marxism have taken on the role of religious eagerness in his motivational scheme. Under this perspective, his obedience to orders bears aspects of his people's obedience to God's commandments. This contrast also manifests itself in the lieutenant's disability to establish a bonding to his people (cf. Greene 220). His exterior position in the Mexican community lets him feel out of place and leads to the interdependent disconnection dominant in the relationship between self-proclaimed protector and unwillingly protected.

Curiously, the lieutenant, like the priest, remains nameless and anonymous throughout the entire story line, making his identity interchangeable. Greene presumably has equipped both roles with the quality of carrying historical relevance. It is thinkable that his conception of the priest and the lieutenant depict the two dominant, yet opposing, political and cultural positions that Greene witnessed during his stay in Mexico in 1938 (cf. Erzgräber 424). In addition, the lieutenant appears to have switched places with the priest in regard to ideological self-conception in relation to the individual profession. Pattern explicates:

The police lieutenant who successfully tracks down the priest may at first look like a perfect antithesis to the hunted man; he believes in the social revolution, he has a purely materialistic view of life, and he is fanatically anticlerical, but actually he, too, symbolises a side of the priest's character, and, fundamentally, the two men are more alike than different. Like the priest, the lieutenant has a vocation to which he has given his life. (312).

This thought is underlined by the fact that “there was something of a priest in his intent observant walk” (Greene 24).

In contrast to his socialist and anti-religious ideological credo, the lieutenant, in the end, seems to be impressed and affected by the priest's newly discovered dignity. This notion even makes him “[wait] till after dark and then” (Greene 202) go and see Padre José in order to bring him to the priest for his last confession (cf. Greene 203). When this request is rejected (cf. Greene 205), he returns to the moribund clergyman, disappointed for the sake of the nameless priest (cf. Greene 206f), yet content “with acid satisfaction” (Greene 204) that his prejudices concerning clerics have been confirmed. In total, the encounter with the man he has been hunting all along appears to have changed the lieutenant's opinion towards clergymen in general. The hint that, at this point, “he couldn't summon up any hate of the small hollow man” (Greene 207) any longer implies that the humane aura of the priest has convinced him that “he's not a bad man” (Greene 204) after all.

2.3 Padre José and Juan

Padre José is often referred to as “despicable” (Greene 27) and presented as the most negative role model within the novel. The reader learns that he has publicly forsaken his faith, taken a wife and come to terms with the regime's conditions as “a Government pensioner” (Greene 30). The negative image of Padre José hardens, when he refuses to grant the nameless priest his help. This particular scene involves an enormous amount of hate on the side of José as the reader learns that “he tried to gather up his venom into spittle and shot it feebly at the [nameless priest's] face” (Greene 118). José's overall status of failure is mirrored by the fact that “it didn't even reach, but fell impotently through the air” (Greene 118). This and other forms of impotence are attributed to Padre José manifold (cf. Greene 29).

It remains unclear whether he chose to obey the regime's demands out of fear and timidness, as is believed within his community (cf. Greene 27) or out of a more altruistic motivation, knowing that he can be of more use when he remains alive than when becoming just another martyr. This would imply that he puts the well-being of his fellow men before the salvation of his own soul, which could be signified by him stating that “he was more of a martyr than the rest” (Greene 27). As a result, José becomes the real martyr which is underlined by the idea of the townspeople's ignorance of his sacrifice and their mockery of his decision (cf. Greene 204f).

In direct contrast to José's public perception, Juan is depicted as “a true young Mexican boy” (Greene 26) and an ideal of humble faithfulness and piety. His life's story is presented as that of a true martyr's and his deeds are told in a tone of praise and adoration. As the hero of religious stories that a mother repeatedly reads to her children, Juan occupies a central position in the community's constancy (cf. Greene 26ff), almost making him a tool of religious propaganda, as the books containing his stories “were smuggled in every month from Mexico City” (Greene 26). One of the anecdotes of his life can even be interpreted as a satirical criticism of the political situation, as Juan “was chosen to play the part of Nero” (Greene 26) in “a little play before the bishop” (Greene 26), whereas his “young manhood was to be cut short by a ruler far worse than Nero” (Greene 26).

Together with the nameless priest, Padre José and Juan form a triangle of different approaches to religious life. José, at least for the people in his vicinity, stands for abandoning values for personal protection, the nameless priest is constantly transcending the lines of selfishness and responsibility, while Juan is the archetypical Christian. This structure can be interpreted as an allusion to the image of God's trinity in Roman Catholic religious contexts: three individual aspects or entities of the deity are joined into one larger concept. Likewise, the three cleric characters seem to form a more comprehensive union, a combined figure that comprises multiple approaches to individual faith and different perceptions of personal ethics.

2.4 Mothers and their Children

One of the most basic elements of a classical family image is the central unity of mother and child. Multiple constellations of this relationship and of the relationships that surround this bond are embedded in The Power and the Glory. Trixy Fellows and her daughter Coral lead a rather desolate and lonely life at the local plant of the “Central American Banana Company” (Greene 31). While Trixy is afraid of “death coming nearer every year in the strange place” (Greene 33), her daughter has developed a morbid form of self-reliance which is summed up by stating that “she was prepared” (Greene 34) which can be seen to refer to much more than just communication. This wisdom is mirrored as “maturity” (Greene 81) in the priest's daughter Brigitta. Both she and her mother Maria treat the nameless priest with hostility. Maria accuses him of endangering Mexican communities wherever he goes and she tells him that he is “no good any more to anyone” (Greene 78). Brigitta, on the other hand feels that her father is useless and a disgrace because “everyone else has a father . . . who works” (Greene 81). A third party is introduced by the mother who reads her children the story of Juan. The mother, though very pious (cf. Greene 26ff), is still extremely unforgiving regarding “traitor[s] to God” (Greene 27), by which she refers to Padre José. Moreover, she utters that she was “so worried about the boy” (Greene 27) while the two girls “are two little saints already” (Greene 27). The boy, however, has a fatalistic interest in death and weapons (cf. Greene 218f) which does not stop him from obeying the rules of the Roman Catholic church, which becomes apparent when he kisses the hand of the unknown priest (cf. Greene 222). Finally, there is the tragic mother and child relationship between the Indian mother and her shot boy. Although her son is killed, the mother insists on taking him to a plateau with “a grove of crosses” (Greene 154) in order to set him to rest there under the symbolic protection of God. The Indian woman alludes to a simple, basic, yet indestructible “faith in the spittle that healed the blind man and the voice that raised the dead” (Greene 155).

Within these relationships, another case of triangular structure can be made out as Coral, Brigitta and the nameless priest all feel rejected by a father figure in their lives. Coral cannot relate to her father in a loving manner (cf. Greene 33f), Brigitta even accuses her father of being useless (cf. Greene 81) and, ultimately, the nameless clergyman feels the absence of his heavenly father (cf. Greene 151). Concluding, it can be derived that neither wisdom, as presented in Coral, nor knowledge of life, as attributed to Brigitta, nor sturdiness, as it is visible in the priest, will provide shelter from feeling abandoned and lost, once this feeling has found a way to establish itself in a person.

2.5 Mr. Tench and the Gringo

Two of the supporting characters whose existence is solely entering the readers' awareness in short episodic encounters are Mr. Tench and the American gunman. As the glances into Mr. Tench's life enclose the story line's beginning (cf. Greene 7-19) and ending (cf. Greene 214-217), the gringo is mentioned continuously and finally introduced in person at the novel's dramatic peak (cf. Greene 187).

In association with Mr. Tench, quite a number of symbolic references are alluded to. As a dentist, he is concerned with the physical condition of the public and, thus, their sanitary well-being. He is professionally related to one of the half-caste's most protruding properties, dental decay. Bearing in mind the option of physical decay being allegoric of social decay, Tench's intention may well be to stop or even reverse the ongoing ruin of the Mexican country. This image finds support in the persistence with which he waits for his “ether cylinder” (Greene 7), a possible relief from the pain of dental operations and symbolic of the general relief from the sufferings the oppressed Mexican people has to endure. Certain facets of his depiction are shared by that of the nameless priest. Tench, for once, sees himself as abandoned by God (cf. Greene 10), causing him to experience the feeling of being trapped in the darkness of divine absence, a sentiment the clergyman also has to sustain. Tench's drinking and the priest's alcoholism make them fellow sufferers. What's more, both allusions to drinking, drug addiction and the resulting numbness are expanded to their professional lives, as symbolised by the ether cylinder and altar wine (cf. Greene 78). Figuratively, the clergyman even tranquillises and calms people by providing religious guidance, absolution and peace of mind.

The American gunman can be traced as a mere aim of various references along the story line. It is only in the moment of the priest's change of attitude that he enters the scenery in person. The fate of the two men are intertwined as symbolised by their two photographs being pinned up next to each other (cf. Greene 121) and as later becomes noticeable when the priest returns to the dying gringo (cf. Greene 187). A uniting factor in both men is the disregard for other people when it comes to decide about what measures to take in different situations. Neither man is willing to give up easily, the American struggles with his last breath to reach for his knife (cf. Greene 189) whereas the priest is a fugitive that is very hard to catch for Mexican authorities. Their endurance even results in their passing away without having been absolved (cf. Greene 189f, 205), which consequently, for a Christian, means the arrival before God without being cleansed of sins. At least is this fate brought upon the priest and the gringo due to their last attempts to help another man, be it the gunman's try to hand his knife to the priest for self protection or the clergyman's effort to save the criminal's soul from damnation.

Once more, a triangular structure emerges between three of The Power and the Glory's characters. The figures of Mr. Tench, the gringo and the priest share a general dream of escaping their lives' misery, be it caused by political, religious or social problems. In spite of their issues with the particular situations they are trapped in, they all still uphold a hopeless tenacity in clinging to life. Also, all three men are united in loneliness and desolation.

2.6 The Mestizo

The man who finally delivers the priest to his persecutors is referred to in The Power and the Glory alternatively as “the mestizo” (Greene 181), “the half-caste” (Greene 182) or even “Judas” (Greene 99). Still, all these denotations imply a racial or ethical mixture of incompatible pre-sets. As a mestizo is usually the offspring and genetic combination of Spanish and Mexican parents, the term half-caste also alludes to the lack of a cultural identity and to the feeling of being lost between two different cultures. The name Judas, thus, points at the duality in moral values. Connoted with Judas Iscariot is his relationship with Jesus Christ. As one of Jesus' disciples, Judas first accepts Christ as his lord, but betrays him afterwards (cf. The Holy Bible, Lk. 22.48), dooming him to a horrible death. Shocked of his own deed, Judas, in complete desperation, commits suicide (cf. The Holy Bible, Mt. 27.5). This final sin against God's commandments will result in eternal damnation for his soul, a fact of which Judas was certainly aware. The idea of opposing moral values is mirrored in the mestizo's claim that he is “a good Christian” (Greene 90) while he seeks to lure the priest into a trap. Like Judas, the half-caste becomes the bane of his own faith's impersonation and, thus, knowingly condemns himself to perdition under the rules of his religion. The request for the priest's blessing (cf. Greene 197) forms a parallel to Judas' remorse and his wish to clear his conscience (cf. The Holy Bible, Mt. 27.3+4) which for him cannot be achieved. Unable to live with the guilt of having assisted in his lord's execution, Judas only sees the option of killing himself, whereas the mestizo counts on the power of a blessing to rid himself of his sin. This concept of faith is rebuked by the priest who explains that he cannot cheat God and that no matter how much he denies his betrayal, it will not be undone by disclaiming it to yourself, God or anyone else (cf. Greene 197). Here, the half-caste's understanding seems to fail. The decision to turn the priest in to the authorities with all the consequences that are to result from it creates a parallel between the mestizo and his victim. The obvious deceit of the nameless priest finds its counterpart in his determination to temporarily forsake his child, though involuntarily it may be conducted. A diverse stance in coping with the moral implications persists, though. The priest is well aware of the hardship he inflicts upon his child (cf. Greene 132), whereas the half-caste is of total ignorance concerning this issue. Ultimately, although there is evidently a basic factual knowledge and faith in Catholic belief, the mestizo's selfish and egocentric attitude marks him as an opportunist and a hypocrite.

Concerning his physical appearance, it is remarkable that his teeth are referred to as “canines” (Greene 84), reminding the reader of the mongrel with the broken back that roams the banana station which the priest uses as a shelter after his release from prison (cf. Greene 140). This comparison can be expanded by both creatures being in a desolate physical condition and of mixed origin, as signified in the denotations used for reference within the novel (half-caste, mestizo, mongrel). Animal connotations and the primal urge of feeding are introduced into the context of the mestizo's character, his need to earn a living in order to survive is expressed through the hunt for his prey. The predominant colour in correlation with the half-caste is “yellow” (Greene 86), the colour that usually is a synonym of fear and dread. This fear might be of repressions from the regime or of fear of survival due to extreme poverty, however, the nameless priest is well aware of the calamitousness his people has to endure. This can be seen as one of the reasons for his understanding of the impending betrayal.

In the end, the half-caste depicts an evil and early foreboding of the disastrous end the priest and the story as a whole are heading to. This evil contains a definite necessity, for it is the driving force behind the clergyman's emergence as the martyr he was set up to become. Like the vultures, the continuous appearance of the mestizo overshadows the protagonist's path and he is established as a constant reminder of a morbid fugacity.

4 Conclusion

The Power and the Glory, which is, according to Woodman, mainly concerned with “the tremendous spiritual drama of salvation or damnation in Catholicism” (140) presents the full scape of Greene's ability and skill to develop a multi-level story line and a plot that, though complex and extensive, never shows a hint of dubiety. Throughout the novel, the reader is bound to experience an atmosphere of suppression and persecution while the protagonist and his supportive characters are engaged in their lives of longing and desolation, hunting and being hunted, love and indifference. Whole new aspects of faith and religion are highlighted and common conventions regarding character development are overturned for the sake of his characters' uniqueness.

Greene's use of symbols and allegories in The Power and the Glory must be deemed an extraordinary literary achievement both for its subtlety and for the effectiveness of his images. The analysis of some of his instances of symbolism has clearly shown that under the obvious surface of character depiction, there is an entire network of correlations and interdependences that contributes to the epic extent of his work. The idea of creating a set of very diverse and individual protagonists, though difficult it may be to implement their particular modes of action, has successfully formed the structural basis for a compelling and thrilling novel. Moreover, designing the characters in the fashion of a radial shape with the nameless priest at the very centre and his supportive characters as the corresponding spokes of the wheel presents Greene as an expert in evaluating social relationships in regard to their potential value for a plot.

The numerous layers of thinkable allusions between the different figures of The Power and the Glory and the fact that Greene enhances these underlying foundations of his work with additional symbols in environment or setting give an even more elaborate facet to his novel. Without question, his writing, especially in The Power and the Glory, has, not least through the application of said symbols, transcended the boundaries of average plot lines and established a new understanding for interdependent character preconditions and developments.