Lie

String theory doesn't always have to be mired in quantum physics or relativity. Sometimes the simplest of concepts - suppression, imprisonment - are just as relevant to the theory than anything more scientific.

When The Emperor Was Divine and The Shawl are spiritual companions; there is no doubt in my mind that these two novels were chosen one after the other for this exact reason. However, while Otsuka covers forced imprisonment, Ozick covers something significantly more complicated than that. Rosa's state can't be limited to just one, or two, or even multiple reasons. It's a combination, perhaps - of both forced suppresion and freely willed stiflement - as well as guilt, transference, revenge, anger, exasperation, and hatred. Rosa's Florida is as much an internment camp as the Japanese-Americans had to endure, although of an entirely different nature, one which goes well beyond the fact that Rosa has the illusion of choice and the Japanese family did not. While Japanese prisoners could not speak because of the desert's "chalky white dust," the same can be said for Florida. "In Florida there is no air," says Rosa. "There is only thin syrup seeping into the esophagus." Rosa may not speak for everyone else in Florida, but her assertion that Florida's air flows as thick as syrup and can obstruct the voice by the very virtue of its existence is a ghoulish way of describing muteness, as well as acting as a throwback to Rosa's tenure as a prisoner. Of course, unlike the camps, where the Nazis were responsible for stifling dissention and the voices of others, nature is the sole catalyst in Florida. Is Rosa directly comparing nature to Nazis, where both exert pressures onto others, or is this comparison meant to be an even wider claim? Nazis, too, were at the whims of nature (their march into Russia solidifies this), and it is a remarkably mature - as well as a remarkably sane - way for Rosa to think when the Nazis are the easiest face to blame for her problems. As someone who feels "a lock removed from the tongue" at all times, Rosa's 'unlocked' mouth is still unable to voice her concerns to understanding ears. She may have a loose tongue, but how loose is it really? Rosa obviously has no trouble telling Persky off. Nature - the air, the nature of people, reality - has caused Rosa's voice to be disembodied completely even while she remains an intelligent, thought-provoked, and thought-provoking woman with a contradictory and inverted facade. Though her "tongue is chained to the teeth and the palate," her mind, and therefore the guiding light behind her speech, is so far removed from the mouth that her inner thoughts are the only vehicle by which she even has a voice to speak, ears to listen, and a heart to understand. Magda, with her gleaming, developing teeth, isn't so different from her mother afterall.They have mouths, tongues, teeth - but no voice to share between them. The shawl and the air have taken this away from the mother and daughter, and as the shawl suppressed Magda's voice, it too has developed into an oppresor for Rosa's inner feelings.

Magda, however, differs from Rosa in one substantial way. Rosa can lie. "To retrieve, to reprieve, to lie," says Rosa while she stumbles through a hotel's backyard. Though said in "vile" reference to the two men Mr. Finkelstein "harbors" on the beach, Rosa's statement has much wider implications. For example, "to lie" can just as easily relate to "men laying with other men" - a stark if relatively ambiguous reference to the Nazi parties' substantial number of gay men in their upper ranks - as it can to Rosa's memory playing tricks on her, or to her obtuse behavior towards Stella (justifiable or not), or to an even grander comment on the illusions retrospection plays in determining how a given event affects a life. It's most likely intended to be a combination. Ozick loves to play with words as much as she loves to play with the audience, and it wouldn't surprise me if Rosa has created her own memories just as easily as she may have forgotten some. Afterall, she mentions nothing of her rapes beyond one brief but straightforward sentence saying Germans "forced" her, while the topic of Magda is constantly mulled over in her head time and time again. Rosa seems to care more for the /end result/ of actions, rather than for the actions which /caused/ the result, hence why Stella is subjected to her anger rather than the Nazis. It's just the way her mind functions, although we have no idea if she was like this prior to being imprisoned. Regardless, to the audience, Rosa's memory is increasingly selective and unreliable. Likewise, Rosa is also something of a contradictory character. Though decrying Dr. Tree to "drop in a hole" for the sterile, emotionally distant language he uses in his letters to her, Rosa is quite the prude herself, as seen by her reactions to the men on the beach. Of course, all illusions of Rosa's prudishness are totally shattered every time she picks up a pen to address Magda, in which she utilizes flowery, evocative words to indulge her fantasies.

Fantasy is bolstered by disconnect, and Ozick blames Rosa's problems on disconnection. "She was unconnected to anything," says Ozick's blunt narration, in typical tense-switching fashion (I wonder if Rosa would agree with Ozick's statement that she is unconnected to anything; what about Magda's ghost? Does Magda's ghost even count, or is that just an extension of Rosa herself?). Shortly after this point Rosa comes to a gate which "belongs to one of the big hotels." Even something as inconsequential as a gate /belongs/ (this word is used explicitly here, and with good reason) somewhere. It's a cruel but striking depiction of Rosa's situation. If she doesn't feel connected to anything, or anyone, should Rosa even have any obligations to "join a club or something" like Stella says? To our knowledge, no one beyond Persky has gone the extra distance to bring Rosa down to a more relatable level, and it is for this reason that the audience has difficulty faulting Rosa for any of her behaviors, regardless of how foreign they may seem. Matters only grow more distressing for Rosa. Upon entering the hotel, Rosa's dress and mannerisms should cause her to stick out, yet even while "she hears their yells" - cooks, men laying with men, hotel staff, everyone - "it has nothing to do with her." Rosa is invisible to all but Persky, even at her most deviant, suggesting Persky may not be as entirely "normal" as Rosa believes.