I'm grading midterm exams for Survey of World Literature, in which I'm
focusing this year on apocalyptic and millennialist texts, including Mary
Shelley's _The Last Man_, a narrative within a narrative. The framing
narrative consists of a 19th-century tourist stumbling upon the cave of the
Cumean Sibyl and discovering a prophetic text from a 21st century writer
that the Sibyl has "channeled" in the ancient world. The 21st century
"author" of the novel's central narrative is an Englishman who survives a
worldwide plague that leaves him (as far as he knows) the last man on
earth. He has fled to Rome to live out his days, from where he writes his
account. (Where else would one go to write in the End Times?)
One student writes in the essay portion of the midterm exam:
"Shelley uses a plaque [sic] to bring mankind to an end. Verney, being the
last one alive is obviously alone. How heavy do you think his heart is
after losing all his loved ones? Being alone is never fun."
Ah, tragedy! If only Aristotle had known: Tragedy is the absence of fun!
TL
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