Neil Forsyth

The opening story in Winesburg, Ohio (1919) by Sherwood Anderson is called simply “Hands.” It is about a teacher’s remarkable hands that sometimes seem to move independently of his will. This essay explores some of the relevant contexts and potential links, beginning with other representations of teachers’ hands, such as Caravaggio’s St. Matthew and the Angel, early efforts to establish a sign-language for the deaf, and including the Montessori method of teaching children to read and write by tracing the shape of letters with their hands on rough emery paper. The essay then explores filmic hands that betray or work independently of conscious intentions, from Dr Strangelove, Mad Love, to The Beast With Five Fingers. Discussion of the medical literature about the “double” of our hands in the brain, including “phantom hands,” leads on to a series of images that register Rodin’s lifelong fascination with sculpting separate hands.

Paradise Lost can be read on various levels, some of which challenge or even contradict others. The main, explicit narrative from Genesis chapters 2 and 3 is shadowed by many other related stories. Some of these buried tales question or subvert the values made explicit in the dominant narrative. An attentive reader needs to be alert to the ways in which such references introduce teasing complexities. The approach of Satan to Eve in the ninth book of Paradise Lost is loaded in just that way with allusion to the literature of Greece and Rome. The poem recovers for this long and intricately constructed passage the weight of classical reference, especially in similes, that it had during the first Satanic books. Gardens, both classical and biblical, disguised or transformed serpents, and the weight of allusions that Eve is required to bear, all threaten to undermine the meanings of the overt narrative. The narrator has difficulty rescuing Eve from the allusions she attracts, or the many stories told about her