By presenting the concept of a closed door, he advocates the very opposite idea according to which, in the past, the door was open. With this knowledge, it is possible that a closed door can be reopened, suggesting that there are two sides to a door. Continuing this metaphor, the “closed door” can be seen as the boundary, a common theme among writers of the 1890s. Both texts – Tennyson's “In Memorium” and Wells's The Island of Doctor Moreau – question this “closed door” which remains as it is. Tennyson's poetry almost seems to want, through the power of language, to open this door which separates the living from the dead, himself and Hallam. Wells uses this idea of ​​a “closed door” less philosophically, but more as a metaphor to suggest a permanently open door; it is one that bridges the otherwise separated gap between beast and man, embodied in Dr. Moreau's vivisection. While each writer explores crossing this boundary through their words, they both fail to realize the responsibility that comes with their actions. Whether reaching for the dead or attempting to transform a beast into a man, all actions have consequences. And this is what sums up both texts as fiction of the 1890s; a feeling of progressivism but inevitability that accompanies the opening of the door to a new century. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get the original essay The opening quote from HG Well presents an image of the “closed door” as physical. Yet, in the context of Tennyson's poetry, it becomes the symbol of a boundary between past and present. James Spedding suggests that Tennyson is "a man always dissatisfied with the present until it has become the past, and then he yearns for it and adores it." In Memorium presents an obsession with the boundary between these two binaries. As Spedding suggests, Tennyson can neither exist in the content of the present nor fully achieve the ideals of his past. This creates a self-inflicted purgatory as part of his grief, reinforced by his physical return to Hallam's house, mirroring the mental journey he takes to this past memory: A dark house, near which I once stood more […]Doors, where my heart was used to beatBesides the suggested metaphor, the spiritual is also shown in a material door that leads to the dark house. As the speaker is physically unable to pass through the door, Tennyson is unable to fully enter the boundaries of the living. By refusing to exist fully, it almost suggests a willingness to sacrifice his own life in order to drag the past into the present that he is so unhappy with. This concept is furthered by Tennyson's detachment from mental and physical state. By stating that his heart "beat" within these boundaries, it suggests that in all other locations, which are not active representations of Hallam's life, his heart cannot. In this nostalgia for the past, the narrator also actively rejects the present. He “[holds] himself,” while others continue to move forward in life around him, suggesting an inability to emotionally move past his grief. Therefore, this “closed door” becomes a door through which Tennyson both longs to return, but at the same time cannot do so. As we explored previously, the “closed door” symbol has many facets. In HG Wells' fantasy novel, he comes to represent the boundary between beast and human. After centuries of debate, one of the defining characteristics that separate humans from animals is language.However, Wells's science fiction challenges this by suggesting that the boundary – essentially the closed door – between language and communication is not as defined as previously described. As Dr. Moreau continues his vivisection, the Beast-Folk are introduced to human language. Yet as they begin to recede, so does their understanding. Can you imagine language, once clear and precise, softening and dripping, losing its shape and importance, becoming mere pieces of sound ?again? (Wells, p.93) This ever-changing image presents the reader with another metaphor; the “closed door” between realism and science fiction is highlighted by the curious. Wells implies that this is a world filled with creatures that we can only “imagine”; the readers themselves cross the border between the realistic and the imaginary in the act of reading. Furthermore, this literature alludes to the fear of degeneration. As a new century approaches, this implies the fear that human language will be reduced to “mere bits of sound” of a beast. This fear means that “[imagining]” could quickly become reality. We must then ask ourselves whether language is linked to understanding. Garner suggests that “a man cannot think without words.” This implies that one cannot reach the intellectual level of humanity without the ability to form words out loud. But it also perhaps suggests that if a creature, like Dr. Moreau's beasts, spoke words, it could achieve this intelligence and thus become more human. This concept begins to bridge the gap between man and beast, and the door opens wide through these experiences, whether humanity is ready or not. Yet the degeneration of language to mere “softened and wasted” “chunks of sound” perhaps suggests otherwise. Moreau gave these creatures the ability to speak, but that's it. As animals, they cannot reason or think independently, and the mind remains separate from the voice. Therefore, what appears to be a process that would unite beast and man in understanding would only separate them further. Despite Moreau's best efforts, the door between the animal world and the human world remains closed. Until now, the “closed door” has been seen as an emotional, intellectual and spiritual barrier. Yet it must also be seen as a construct that forms a social barrier between the wider world and the culture created by each writer. Tennyson creates an enclosed experience of grief, and Wells presents the reader with a perverse Eden. Both of their environments are closed off from the outside world, but also come to represent larger experiences. For example, Dr. Moreau's island, seemingly separated from reality by a "closed door", can be seen as a metaphor for critical and strict Victorian society. I had before me the whole balance of human life in miniature, the whole play of instinct, reason and destiny in its simplest form. (Wells, p.77) Wells states that Dr. Moreau's island and the struggle between man and beast can represent "the whole balance of human life." This suggests that vivisection, although not physical, may be more important in our daily lives than previously thought. A civilized person must carry out a kind of perverse vivisection in his own life; they must fight against brutal instincts and choose reason in order to adhere to the ideals of a Victorian society. Yet perhaps the most interesting point to note is perspective. Until now, each protagonist has been seen as being on either side of a “closed door,” yearning to reach the other side. In this case, Prendrick is totally.