Both Meursault and Milkman share a common trait of being dispassionate; Meursault is very emotionally indifferent to most things, including his mother’s death, animal abuse, and his murder of the Arab. Milkman is similarly indifferent to life; he’s spent the better part of his life drifting aimlessly and only partying with the people on Honore Beach. Interestingly, both Meursault and Milkman both enjoy the aspects of sex and other physical aspects of life, seeing as how Meursault derives joy from his troubled relationship with Marie, and Milkman’s twenty years of carefree partying on Honore Beach. Although their personalities are somewhat different (Milkman being a little more emotional), this connection and other similarities relate the two protagonists’ roles closely.
---spoilers for the end of Song of Solomon---
Both characters have a significant moment in the book where they finally show some independence and initiative, and the resulting events impact their lives heavily. For example, Meursault’s moment of gumption comes when he talks Raymond into putting the gun down and not shooting the Arab. However, this event causes him to have the gun himself and this later results in his murder of the Arab, a chain of events that would not have happened if Meursault hadn’t pursued his course of action. Milkman has arguably two events, one when he takes action against Macon for hitting Ruth, and one where he goes after the gold on his own. The second one is more meaningful, because it specifically involves his independent choice (an example would be Guitar’s concern and how he worries that Milkman hasn’t done anything on his own). As a result of his trip into Pennsylvania and later into Virginia, he discovers an incredible amount of information about his family history, including the legend of Solomon. While Meursault’s result is that he dies, and Milkman undergoes a positive character transformation, the motivations and themes between the two characters are similar.
In order to look at the connection more closely, we have to delve into the setting of The Stranger and Song of Solomon; both worlds include racial tensions to different degrees, and those tensions play a major part in the story. Arab-colonist tensions are present in The Stranger through how the Arabs are not given proper descriptions, implying a subhuman status. Camus is sympathetic towards the pied noir, and Meursault’s murder of the Arab can be argued as an attempt to warn society of the developing strife between the two racial demographics. In Song of Solomon, the difference between white and black people is a major focus of the story, as seen with Guitar’s business with the Seven Days and his mentality towards white people. In addition, while Milkman’s adventure to PE and VA isn’t directly influenced by race relations, they act as the background/causation of most events in the story, like how Macon Sr died from a white person shooting him. The aforementioned connection is that both characters can be interpreted as heros of their own race; Meursault attempts to save the pied-noirs in Algeria by forewarning the racial strife that would fracture the country, and Milkman becomes a progenitor of Solomon’s flight, thereby adopting his black heritage and essentially becoming an idol for his own race.
Finally, the ending scenes of both books provide a conclusive finish to the analogy. In a sense, both characters are “saved” or “liberated” in the final acts of their respective novels. Meursault and Milkman both undergo substantial changes during the last chapters, with Meursault’s indictment changing his outlook on life and attitude, and Milkman’s exploration of the legend of Solomon and embracing his ancestral gift of flight. While Meursault’s ending is not quite as hopeful as Milkman’s, both of the characters come to terms with their predicaments and even embrace them. Their previous dispassionate states evolve into galvanized, independent mentalities as both Milkman and Meursault seem to embody their coming-of-age evolution.
20/20 Perception
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Friday, November 17, 2017
Connecting the Characters of Clarantoinette Cosloway (and Bertimus Smithson) through the Respective Timelines of Mrs Dalloway and Wide Sargasso Sea-Jane Eyre, Set 80 years Apart but with Similar Female Protagonists and Themes of Insanity
I see the characters of Clarissa Dalloway and Antoinette Cosway to be somewhat similar; the main focus of both of their lives is their marriages, they feel generally lonely in their lives (or maybe misunderstood), and both characters are female protagonists who may be negatively affected by their environments. In addition, the madness of the characters Septimus and Bertha can be used to further illustrate the connection between Dalloway and Cosway, since Septimus parallels Clarissa and Bertha is basically Antoinette.
I was inspired from reading stuff about the “madwoman in the attic” trope that was produced by Jane Eyre; Bertha is depicted as an insane, deranged woman who Rochester valiantly keeps locked up in his attic. Antoinette in Wide Sargasso Sea is more reasonable, and is basically misunderstood by the people around her (besides Christophine, maybe). While Clarissa is not a direct comparison, I think we can find some similarities between the two; Clarissa feels lonely in her own life, often reflecting on herself and wanting more freedom, while Antoinette is literally ostracized during her childhood and spends most of her life without a strong support group. In this sense, we can see both Clarissa and Antoinette as being “locked in the attic”, especially with Antoinette literally being locked in the attic in Jane Eyre, and Clarissa’s scene where she goes up to her attic and reflects on her loneliness. Both of them experience some sort of isolation, which contributes to their relatively depressed attitude.
It’s important to discuss the character of Septimus when talking about Dalloway, since they seem to be connected in several ways throughout the novel. Septimus is entirely crazy, and eventually commits suicide by leaping off through his window, and an important thing to note is that his madness is due to environmental stress; the war, combined with the traumatic incident with his friend, affected him in such a way as to make him go mad. His situation is kind of like what happened with Antoinette’s mother, and maybe even Bertha; the events after Emancipation and the burning of Coulibri all contribute to her loneliness and eventual descent into madness. Both Septimus and Antoinette/Bertha are products of their respective settings and environments.
While Antoinette and Clarissa aren’t yet crazy, they both show the possibility of becoming crazy; Antoinette has been ostracized throughout her childhood, even by her own mother, and she is confronted with the paranoid Rochester who fears that she’ll become mad like her mother, which seems kind of like a positive feedback loop (Rochester is more and more convinced she is mad, does increasingly drastic behavioral checks, Antoinette reacts accordingly, exacerbates his fears even more). Clarissa is less troubled, but is still connected to madness through Septimus; she sees herself in him, and is inspired to keep living when she hears of his suicide.
By experiencing Septimus’ tragedy, Clarissa is looking at herself in the future; if Antoinette was given this opportunity of seeing Bertha Mason and observing her madness, would she have gone mad?
An interesting aspect of both novels is the view on mental illness; both worlds have a rather primitive understanding of mental illness, either regarding it as something trivial (Dalloway’s setting) or something hereditary (Antoinette’s setting). The stigmas are incredibly influential aspects of the novels because they almost drive the characters to madness; Holmes makes Septimus jump out the window, while Rochester’s belief in hereditary madness and his resulting behavior basically forces Antoinette to play the role of madwoman.
While Antoinette and Clarissa aren’t yet crazy, they both show the possibility of becoming crazy; Antoinette has been ostracized throughout her childhood, even by her own mother, and she is confronted with the paranoid Rochester who fears that she’ll become mad like her mother, which seems kind of like a positive feedback loop (Rochester is more and more convinced she is mad, does increasingly drastic behavioral checks, Antoinette reacts accordingly, exacerbates his fears even more). Clarissa is less troubled, but is still connected to madness through Septimus; she sees herself in him, and is inspired to keep living when she hears of his suicide.
By experiencing Septimus’ tragedy, Clarissa is looking at herself in the future; if Antoinette was given this opportunity of seeing Bertha Mason and observing her madness, would she have gone mad?
Septimus is a parallel to Bertha Mason in Jane Eyre; he represents what Dalloway would have become in the future had she fully succumbed to her environmental pressures, and Bertha is literally Antoinette, after a few years locked in the attic. In a sense, Clarissa and Antoinette are both the background stories to the characters of Septimus and Bertha, respectively, which relates the two timelines of Mrs. Dalloway and Wide Sargasso Sea/Jane Eyre through themes of societal pressure and madness.
Does this connection make sense? Are there any differences between the two links that are important to note? Don’t forget to leave a like and subscribe, and let me know down in the comments what you thought of this blog post.
Friday, November 3, 2017
An Explication of Obscure Correlations between the Character of Meursault and the Archetype of Jesus Christ from Scenes in The Stranger by Albert Camus, a Story About an "Ordinary Man who Unwittingly Gets Drawn into a Senseless Murder on a Sun-Drenched Algerian Beach"
In my group’s panel during class, we explored the idea of comparing the archetype of Jesus Christ with Meursault’s role throughout the story. To summarize, we basically compared Meursault’s trial and behavior throughout the story to Jesus Christ, using several scenes as evidence.
Meursault’s dinner with Raymond was an example of a scene that shows his similarities: relative to Meursault, Raymond is a satanic figure. He tempts Meursault with the letter, and his offer of wine and sausage (representative of blood and flesh) is comparable to Satan’s temptation of Jesus Christ in the wilderness. The dinner scene could also be interpreted as an analog to the Last Supper, which signifies that Meursault is about to be tricked (like Jesus was tricked by Judas).
Similarly, Meursault’s behavior during the trial corresponds to Jesus’ behavior during his crucifixion. Both characters were silent while they were accused, and they play the role of a scapegoat during their trials (the French society wants to condemn Meursault for his amorality, and Jesus was crucified because he was viewed as a political/religious threat). In addition, their sentences are abnormal and extreme, since both get the death penalty despite their respective legal systems that rarely doled out capital punishments.
Basically, Meursault represents the character of Jesus, but a failed one: his goal is to unite the pied noir society and the Arab society in Algeria to prevent the future civil war and fragmentation. He killed the unnamed Arab on the beach as a warning: if the pied noir society would continue to discriminate against Arabs in this way (since it appears that Meursault basically killed him for no reason), Algeria would eventually degenerate into civil war. However, he fails in this regard, as the trail focuses on his failure to show emotion, rather than justice for the victim. Jesus had died for humanity’s sins, but Meursault essentially dies for nothing (which ties in with his view at the end of the book). Also, we have to consider the obvious distinction between Jesus and Meursault: the latter straight up murders someone to get his point across.
The explanation is already kind of weird, but I’d like to further get into the more abstract parallels between Meursault and Christ, the arguments that were too much of a stretch to make it into the panel.
First, we should look at the sun, since it holds incredible significance in influencing Meursault’s behavior. The author of our article argued that the sun was a “father figure” to Meursault, so the relationship between the sun and Meursault can be interpreted as a father-son relationship. Basically, if Meursault is Jesus, then the sun is God himself. In the scene on the beach, Meursault is essentially submitting to the sun’s will, much like Jesus submits to his father, God. However, why does God provoke Jesus into killing an Arab? The precedent is there- God has certainly killed hundreds of people throughout history (although these are mostly indirect, like how he condemned all the firstborn sons to die in Egypt), so it isn’t entirely unreasonable. It could be seen as God being the original mastermind behind the plan of uniting Algeria, and Jesus/Meursault simply manifesting and carrying out the plan.
The scene where Raymond, Masson, and Meursault approach the Arabs on the beach is also worth looking at: the three people on the beach represent a holy trinity of sorts, similar to Jesus, God, and the Holy Ghost, but in this situation it would be more like Jesus, Satan, and the Unholy Ghost, as a negative counterpart to the holy trinity. However, this wouldn’t make sense, as this would mean that Satan and God would collaborate for a common goal. Why would this happen? Why would God want to kill the Arab, who is also an enemy of Satan?
Finally, the significance of Meursault’s killing of the Arab is shown through the exact number of bullets used. Five represents the wounds received by Christ on the cross during his crucifixion, like the thorns in his head and the nails in his hands. This changes our interpretation; Jesus is using his own wounds to symbolically retaliate. We often wondered why Meursault would empty four more bullets into the dead body after his murder; this scene could mean that Meursault is a Jesus that is leaning towards evil; he is still aiming to accomplish his goal, but he is willing to use more cruelty to do so.
Honestly, I don’t know where I’m going with this post, but it was just interesting to think about.
Monday, October 9, 2017
The Gretamorphosis by Franz Kafka, a novella characterized by slipstream fiction and absurdist narrative, originally published in 1915 under the title Der Verwandlung, in the country of Austria-Hungary which is now known as the Czech Republic after its dissolution in 1918.
this is posted on monday so kinda spoiler alert
In Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, Grete is the only other character mentioned by name (besides Anna the servant, who’s mentioned fleetingly); other unnamed characters include the father, mother, chief clerk guy, and the maid. This uniqueness reveals the significance of her character throughout the story, and specifically the growth, or evolution of her personality and role within the family.
While Gregor Samsa is undoubtedly the protagonist of Kafka’s story, the majority of character development is concentrated with Grete, and the focus of the narration entirely shifts during the third part. In the beginning, before Gregor opens the door, Grete knocks and asks: “Gregor? Aren’t you well? Is there anything you want?” and later whispers: “Do open up, Gregor, please do.” Grete clearly has a deferential and even subservient attitude towards Gregor based on this dialogue. Later in the story, she is called to run to the doctor, implying that the mother often has Grete do these menial chores which indicates her role in the family. Grete even breaks down sobbing when Gregor does not open the door at first. This shows that in the beginning of the story, Grete’s character is certainly fragile, and while I don’t want to characterize her as weak, it seems that Grete is described as a vulnerable, faint personality.
Once Gregor’s evolution into an insect happens, Grete has to take the responsibility of taking care of him, which is when her development starts. At first, she keeps the same timid attitude as before (you can’t really blame her, she’s dealing with a giant insect), but she ends up realizing that she has power over Gregor; this is exemplified in how Grete hands him the dirty dumpster scraps for meals, and also how Grete asserts her own opinion over her parents: “But unfortunately his sister thought otherwise; she had become accustomed, and not without some justification, to adopt with her parents the role of a special expert whenever Gregor’s affairs were being discussed.” Grete’s transformation is perhaps most succinctly explicated in this narrative description: “During the first two weeks his parents could not bring themselves to come in to him, and he often heard them expressing their full appreciation of his sister's present labours, whereas previously they had frequently become annoyed with her because she seemed to them a somewhat useless girl.” Grete’s change is almost drastic, in the way that Gregor’s transformation is sudden and dramatic.
We can view this progression relative to Gregor’s role in the family. He sees himself as the cornerstone or the centerpiece, directly responsible for maintaining his family’s survival. He’s pretty much correct: he’s the only one working to get rid of the family debt and putting food on the table. However, once Gregor becomes increasingly incapacitated, the family is left with no one to take care of them. This is where Grete evolves into a more assertive character: while she does not have a job, she takes on several responsibilities and voices her own opinions. In one scene, she is heard by Gregor as saying: “We must try to get rid of [Gregor]”. After he interrupts her violin playing and causes the lodgers to leave, she says: “If it were Gregor, he would have realized long since that it isn’t possible for human beings to live together with a creature like that, and he would have gone away of his own accord.” Her suddenly bold statements illustrate the pinnacle of her development: she puts the interest of her family ahead of her incapacitated brother, and becomes her own mature and responsible character.
Grete’s own metamorphosis makes Kafka’s story more interesting because it makes the reader more invested in the family, and it illustrates the law of conservation of character: as Gregor’s role becomes diminished, Grete’s responsibility within the family grows, and eventually she may be the cornerstone that Gregor once was. This leaves room for a possible sequel to The Metamorphosis; what happens to the family after the situation with Gregor, and how will Grete adapt?
Finally, what's your overall feeling after reading the story: do you feel sad for Gregor, or happy for the family?
Finally, what's your overall feeling after reading the story: do you feel sad for Gregor, or happy for the family?
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Analyzing and Comparing Distinct Prose Styles of the Twentieth Century Including the Unambiguous Narration of Ernest Hemingway and the Verbose Writing Styles of Woolf and Baker: Is It More Beneficial to Have Concise Descriptions or to Write Wordy, Erudite-Sounding Sentences When You Could Have Just Said the Same Thing in a Few Words Like This Stupid Title
Perhaps one of the most important qualities of a novel is the prose; often, the author uses this aspect to distinguish themselves in a generally competitive literary market, and every single author we’ve explored in class thus far has been an example of unique writing styles. If we look at the various authors’ writing styles from the perspective of a spectrum, Hemingway and Woolf/Baker would represent vastly different ends.
Baker is definitely an example of unique narrative voice; I can’t think of another book that delves into the minutiae of everyday life as interestingly as Baker’s novel. The narration is like a meandering river that keeps infinitely flowing; the water carries all the sediment and details throughout its course. Unlike most other novels or works of art, Baker’s book leaves the reader with no room for interpretation, since he describes everything with such precision, and relates pretty much every single one of his thoughts to the audience.
Virginia Woolf follows a similar, but still characteristic approach: her long-winded sentences also carry detail and description, but the perspective is from a third person, omniscient narrator who somehow has access to every character’s mind and can explicate their thoughts. Woolf’s rapid jump from topic to topic and person to person is somewhat like Baker’s deluge of thinking, however her style allows her to leave more information out. Since she has the capacities of several different characters at her disposal, she can also withhold any information, since it’s impossible to describe every single character’s thoughts at one given moment. Basically, in terms of length and expressiveness, Woolf has a similar style of narration to Baker, but unlike Baker, she’s able to pick and choose what narration to show the reader because of her multiple character perspective.
Hemingway, on the other hand, is incredibly different in that he writes mostly in short phrases and dialogue. To revisit the previous metaphor, it’s like Hemingway is describing the surface level of the river, and what is visible, leaving the possibilities beneath the surface to the reader. However, his prose still evokes an equal level of emotion compared to more lengthy, descriptive styles, because it relies heavily on inference and interpretation. While character thoughts are rarely directly expressed, the reader can easily assume them from actions or dialogue that Hemingway writes. In terms of pace and plot, Hemingway’s novel moves much more quickly, and the characters progress in a more dynamic way.
When comparing the three, the aspect of reliability is important to discuss. I would characterize Baker as being fairly reliable- despite the first person, single character perspective, the reader gets a sense of trust because he describes everything in such a matter-of-fact and pragmatic way. Woolf, on the other hand, is incredibly reliable as a narrator because her multi-character, fly buzzing around the room perspective presents everything in a non-biased way. Hemingway, on the other hand, is unclear; having the entire narration set from Jake’s perspective is obviously going to skew things, but also, we occasionally see moments where Hemingway could be projecting his own character onto the pages (e.g. the unclear usage of the n word a billion times in succession). This one character narration is different from Baker’s, however, since Jake only tells the reader what he wants us to know, while in The Mezzanine, we get the sense that Howie tells us everything.
How does the reliability of the narrator affect how impactful the prose is? I think that the level of accuracy correlates with the descriptiveness of the prose: along with short sentences, Hemingway uses Jake’s unreliable narration to further complicate the story. Woolf and Baker’s relatively straightforward narration is more clear, but also adds detail that makes the story more compelling. The result of different prose styles is most apparent on the reader: simple, direct sentences like Hemingway’s leave much to the imagination, while long, winding descriptions are more immersive and lively.
Which style works better? I think the question can be answered by the reader: if you’re the imaginative type or tend to form unconventional ideas, then Hemingway’s prose may fit you better. If you want to just ride the roller coaster and enjoy the book for what it is, then maybe you’d find Woolf or Baker more interesting.
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
The Recurring Ecclesiastical Archetype of Septimus Smith in Mrs. Dalloway; A Twentieth Century Jesus Christ Stranded in an Unforgiving London Society
I think the character of Septimus in Mrs. Dalloway draws several parallels to a religious figure that most everybody knows of: Jesus Christ. I’d argue that Septimus/Jesus Christ is brought into the world by God as a desperate measure, as a last hope to save humanity before it deteriorates into a hellish oblivion, but society is too brutal and unforgiving so Septimus/Jesus Christ sacrifices himself in vain.
It’s not a coincidence that the author describes “Septimus” as a Christian name. Septimus has delusions that he is Christ (as described by Bradshaw), and he threatens to kill himself. “Look the unseen bade him, the voice which now communicated with him who was the greatest of mankind, Septimus, lately taken from life to death, the Lord who had come to renew society, who lay like a coverlet, a snow blanket smitten only by the sun, for ever unwasted, suffering for ever, the scapegoat, the eternal sufferer”. He proclaims that his role in life is to “renew society” and describes himself as “the scapegoat” and “the eternal sufferer”, analogous to Jesus Christ. However, his psychosis, caused by society and humanity, is so pronounced that it prevents him from becoming a figure of redemption.
The novel itself largely focuses on the world and its societal pressures, especially in relation to characters like Clarissa and Septimus, and the atmosphere also includes the recovery of London after World War 1. Compared to other conflicts in the past, WW1 was relatively “godless”- when you think about the constant agony that is trench warfare and the cruel inventions of modern war like mustard gas, it seems as if God has almost abandoned humanity. There is a more agnostic mentality as the twentieth century progresses, possibly due to these atrocities and technological advancement. Therefore, it kind of makes sense that God would send down a savior at this time; he wants to prevent the train of humanity from veering off the cliff of morality.
Also, in the text itself, religion is often described in a negative manner. Characters like Miss Kilman are, from Clarissa’s perspective, cold and intolerant. Kilman once compares her suffering in life to Christ’s agony: “Mr. Whittaker had said she was there for a purpose. But no one knew the agony! He said, pointing to the crucifix, that God knew. But why should she have to suffer when other women, like Clarissa Dalloway, escaped?” Clarissa is also taken aback by how detestable religion is, citing Kilman’s “domineering” and “cruel” behavior. This shows the change in religious attitude from the past to the twentieth century; in Woolf’s eyes, people have adjusted the principles of religion in a more hateful manner. This is another reason why Jesus Christ as Septimus might appear in the story: to bring religion back to its forgiving roots and to make society more kind.
Also, the sacrificial death of Septimus is similar to Jesus’ death to absolve humanity of its sins. Except, this time, his death proceeds in a very insignificant manner, according to the narration. The only soul he might have saved was Clarissa, which is still a far cry from the intentions of the first coming of Christ. I see Septimus as the “second coming” of Jesus Christ; however this time, humanity isn’t worthy enough to save. Septimus/Jesus Christ’s exposure to this iteration of humanity damages him, changes him from a salvation figure to a victim of shell shock, muttering about the cruelties and sins of society. Septimus’ statement that he “could not feel” results in Jesus Christ not being able to save people.
What do you think? Is is accurate to compare Septimus with Jesus? Is Septimus’ role as Jesus Christ ineffectual? Or does the saving of Clarissa mean that Septimus’ sacrifice was worthy and impactful?
Friday, September 1, 2017
The Cyclical Succession of Literature in the Twentieth Century; Revolutionizing the Platitudinous Narratives in Favor of Stream of Consciousness Writing
Virginia Woolf’s critique on literature styles, such as Edwardian and Georgian in her time period, can be transposed to more modern themes. As Mrs. Dalloway is to early 20th century novels, The Mezzanine is to later 20th century novels. The Georgian aspects of character and emotion are emphasized in Baker’s novel and instead of following a primarily plot-based story, he relies on the character’s thoughts to drive the book. As well as breaking traditional formulaic story molds, Baker creates a novel that echoes the style of Woolf sixty years earlier.
In Woolf’s essays on literature (Modern Fiction and Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown), she generalizes Edwardian stories as being too materialistic; instead of focusing on the characters and fleshing out the emotions, authors tended to cater to the audience and grind out uninspiring trope-filled stories that relied too much on the plot. In a way, the 1970s trend of literature also followed this theme; old fashioned (more conventional) storytelling like in Segal’s Love Story returned, marking a similarity to Edwardian fiction. More importantly, “genre fiction”, which are stories that are plot based and designed to cater to an audience of a specific genre, became popular and they represent another one of Woolf’s gripes about Edwardian literature; the indulgence of the populace instead of the author’s own desires. The trend of the 1970s is therefore reminiscent of the early 20th century literary period, with authors reverting to themes used fifty years earlier.
In addition to how both the mainstream styles of writing were similar, Baker and Woolf use comparable concepts of Georgian styles to write The Mezzanine and Mrs. Dalloway, respectively. In Woolf’s essays, she supported stories that moved based on its characters and their emotions, and indeed, Mrs. Dalloway exemplifies that idea; the entire story occurs within a single day, with a menagerie of characters’ perspectives to push the story along. As well as the idea of character focus, the simple notion of writing what compels the author is essential. These concepts are thoroughly demonstrated in The Mezzanine, which revolves around the main character’s lunch period and is entirely driven by his thoughts. There is almost no plot in Baker’s story; the substance mainly consists of what the main character thinks and his idiosyncrasies. This style foregoes all modern convention and delves into the character’s mind, much like Mrs. Dalloway tumbles into each character’s perspective and describes their mentality. Also, quite literally, The Mezzanine is an account of what the author wants to write about. No reader at that time would’ve asked for a hundred page narrative on shoelaces.
The same succession of literary styles appears in both ends of the 20th century; Woolf and Baker’s styles are analogous to each other, as well as the mainstream literature that preceded their publications. This raises the question: will this pattern occur later in the future? Will literary style revert back to the retro, classical way of storytelling and usher in a new generation of mold-breaking writers? Did certain historical events affect the culture of novels? Or maybe, will the trend of writing style change because of our exponential technological growth?
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