Nov 9, 2009
Antigone
So I have no time for a post right now, but I just want to say, Antigone is fabulous. Why do I never know these things? You would think I would be prepared for a famous Greek play that has survived through so many years and philosophical systems, but I honestly was staggered by what I found.
It is SO good.
It is SO good.
Oct 6, 2009
Because I'm trying not to write a paper . . .
Choosing The Garden Party for my paper seemed like a good idea. The story inspired some controversy over its last line, I'm always interested in the behavior of people, and class consciousness stirs up my sense of justice.
Except I can't think of an argumentative thesis that could possibly argue something that isn't blatantly obvious about this story.
1. Duh, it's a criticism of class separation/consciousness, etc. (see the house up and the house down and the road that divides)
2. Duh, it's a coming of age story
- This is the worst because coming-of-age is a universally designated description. And it's vague.
3. Duh, death destroys any kind of distinction between people groups.
4. Duh, Laura is naive and needs to open her eyes to the world
What am I supposed to say that the story doesn't already say? When I look back and remember what really interested me about this story, I only remember the anger I felt when I read the last bit of the story. Laura has looked at the dead man, she is overcome with emotion and flees after apologizing for her trivial hat. Okay, so far, so good. She has made the first step toward honesty. And then she sees her idiotic brother, and in her effervescent sorrow she sobs, "Isn't life marvelous." I wanted to hit her then. I could just see her, so overcome with the Grandeur and Significance of her experience that she completely misses the point.
Of course, this is not a evidentially-supported feeling. The author mentions that The Garden Party reflects her own beginnings into world-consciousness, essayists remind us that Laura's experience with the dead man shatters her trust in her mother's world and begins her life as an aware being. But I don't see it that way. I see her fully embracing her former lifestyle, but this time it's worse. This time she knows about death and darkness, so she will live comfortably with her sunflower hats and endless roses, because she has already had her soul-opening experience.
She has paid her dues to sorrow, so she will never realize that one sad experience does not an enlightened person make.
Except I can't think of an argumentative thesis that could possibly argue something that isn't blatantly obvious about this story.
1. Duh, it's a criticism of class separation/consciousness, etc. (see the house up and the house down and the road that divides)
2. Duh, it's a coming of age story
- This is the worst because coming-of-age is a universally designated description. And it's vague.
3. Duh, death destroys any kind of distinction between people groups.
4. Duh, Laura is naive and needs to open her eyes to the world
What am I supposed to say that the story doesn't already say? When I look back and remember what really interested me about this story, I only remember the anger I felt when I read the last bit of the story. Laura has looked at the dead man, she is overcome with emotion and flees after apologizing for her trivial hat. Okay, so far, so good. She has made the first step toward honesty. And then she sees her idiotic brother, and in her effervescent sorrow she sobs, "Isn't life marvelous." I wanted to hit her then. I could just see her, so overcome with the Grandeur and Significance of her experience that she completely misses the point.
Of course, this is not a evidentially-supported feeling. The author mentions that The Garden Party reflects her own beginnings into world-consciousness, essayists remind us that Laura's experience with the dead man shatters her trust in her mother's world and begins her life as an aware being. But I don't see it that way. I see her fully embracing her former lifestyle, but this time it's worse. This time she knows about death and darkness, so she will live comfortably with her sunflower hats and endless roses, because she has already had her soul-opening experience.
She has paid her dues to sorrow, so she will never realize that one sad experience does not an enlightened person make.
Aug 22, 2009
Thoughts about Lily Bart
Earlier this summer, I reread The House of Mirth, one of my favorite novels. The entire time I was reading, I wondered, "How am I like Lily Bart?"
This is a curious question, first, because I never try to compare myself with a character, and, second, because I am nothing like Lily Bart. Neither our good qualities or our bad qualities align. Lily is beautiful, the head-turning variety, she's a brilliant conversationalist, she's a social climber, she's masterful at reading situations, therefore, giving her control over most situations, and she's given to tragic mistakes.* At least fifty other differences exist between Lily Bart and myself, so it wasn't until I exhausted nearly every one that I finally found my answer.
Lily and I are both mild social rebels. The key, of course, is mild. Though both of us feel the constraints of the world we live in, we exist without difficulty in that world, perhaps even with comfort.
Only, Lily's society doesn't allow for rebels, mild or intense. That's why her mistakes are tragic, when mine are just annoying. Talking to the wrong boy, accepting the (wrong person's) Trojan horse, being chums with her enemy, alienating a society leader, all these mistakes combine to the downfall of Lily. I could make all of those mistakes, indeed, I'm pretty sure I've made most of them, but in my society it doesn't matter.
In my society, I will never be cool, or acceptable, and some of my authorities may innately distrust me, but I will not be torn down body and soul like Lily. I have the freedom to be different, but for Lily, being minutely different causes her destruction. I may feel that I will spend a lifetime combating the latent sexism and racism of my society, but (and I can't believe I'm saying this), at least it's latent. I have an education, so I can survive outside my society, but Lily was denied any chance to be useful or purposeful.
I have some freedom. Thank God.
*My mistakes, though plentiful are not intrinsically tragic
This is a curious question, first, because I never try to compare myself with a character, and, second, because I am nothing like Lily Bart. Neither our good qualities or our bad qualities align. Lily is beautiful, the head-turning variety, she's a brilliant conversationalist, she's a social climber, she's masterful at reading situations, therefore, giving her control over most situations, and she's given to tragic mistakes.* At least fifty other differences exist between Lily Bart and myself, so it wasn't until I exhausted nearly every one that I finally found my answer.
Lily and I are both mild social rebels. The key, of course, is mild. Though both of us feel the constraints of the world we live in, we exist without difficulty in that world, perhaps even with comfort.
Only, Lily's society doesn't allow for rebels, mild or intense. That's why her mistakes are tragic, when mine are just annoying. Talking to the wrong boy, accepting the (wrong person's) Trojan horse, being chums with her enemy, alienating a society leader, all these mistakes combine to the downfall of Lily. I could make all of those mistakes, indeed, I'm pretty sure I've made most of them, but in my society it doesn't matter.
In my society, I will never be cool, or acceptable, and some of my authorities may innately distrust me, but I will not be torn down body and soul like Lily. I have the freedom to be different, but for Lily, being minutely different causes her destruction. I may feel that I will spend a lifetime combating the latent sexism and racism of my society, but (and I can't believe I'm saying this), at least it's latent. I have an education, so I can survive outside my society, but Lily was denied any chance to be useful or purposeful.
I have some freedom. Thank God.
*My mistakes, though plentiful are not intrinsically tragic
Aug 11, 2009
A Bit of Motives, Manners, and Morals
Two people openly disliked each other. They clashed in popularity contests, they were publicly rude to each other, and they spewed insults so childish that Nah nah-nah nah nah appeared Shakespearean. One person was a CEO, the main instigator, and the other a Mid-Level Employee, a reactionary fellow. One day MLE was fired.
Why do you think MLE was fired?
See.
What if I told you some extenuating circumstances? Budgetary concerns, at least, inefficiency or possible incompetency from MLE at worst. Does that change your opinion?
Oh, you say, you're just manipulating the story telling. You told the negative part first and now anything you tell us later will be tainted by that knowledge.
But, if you had been watching these public battles, you wouldn't have heard the "extenuating circumstances" until after your perception had been tainted by previous knowledge. Maybe, even quite possibly, you would never have heard the "facts" of the case.
Or you could be like me and realize, with horror, that the facts ceased to matter because that truth had been replaced by truths of observation.
These people may have been entitled to their little feud, but it was not a privilege to watch them waste their public platforms on rumor-inspiring foolishness or flyting. The CEO could have maintained honor and dignity in the midst of a difficult task (firing a popular employee) and the MLE would never have been provoked into graceless behavior. He also would never have had to question if his job loss was the result of a unjust rudeness. And neither would I. And neither would anyone else.
Public opinion bestowed to those two men, the respect allowing them to make changes for the better, was almost completely lost because they were not willing live to live justly, with grace and respect to all men.
Epilogue:
CEO was later the victim of an ousting in a situation fully as questionable as the MLE's. I tell you this not so you say, "Well, CEO deserved it," because if you believe that then you miss the point. CEO's choice to demonstrate that he wasn't a man of character denied his own expellers an example of a man above reproach.
Why do you think MLE was fired?
See.
What if I told you some extenuating circumstances? Budgetary concerns, at least, inefficiency or possible incompetency from MLE at worst. Does that change your opinion?
Oh, you say, you're just manipulating the story telling. You told the negative part first and now anything you tell us later will be tainted by that knowledge.
But, if you had been watching these public battles, you wouldn't have heard the "extenuating circumstances" until after your perception had been tainted by previous knowledge. Maybe, even quite possibly, you would never have heard the "facts" of the case.
Or you could be like me and realize, with horror, that the facts ceased to matter because that truth had been replaced by truths of observation.
These people may have been entitled to their little feud, but it was not a privilege to watch them waste their public platforms on rumor-inspiring foolishness or flyting. The CEO could have maintained honor and dignity in the midst of a difficult task (firing a popular employee) and the MLE would never have been provoked into graceless behavior. He also would never have had to question if his job loss was the result of a unjust rudeness. And neither would I. And neither would anyone else.
Public opinion bestowed to those two men, the respect allowing them to make changes for the better, was almost completely lost because they were not willing live to live justly, with grace and respect to all men.
Epilogue:
CEO was later the victim of an ousting in a situation fully as questionable as the MLE's. I tell you this not so you say, "Well, CEO deserved it," because if you believe that then you miss the point. CEO's choice to demonstrate that he wasn't a man of character denied his own expellers an example of a man above reproach.
Jul 28, 2009
The Sad World
Most of the time I don't mind the state of my current environment. Sure I don't fit, but it doesn't harm me. Generally, it's more amusing than sad.
Like today, when I discovered that, for the people around me, Raging Bull is a ride at Six Flags. If not that, then it is a misnomer for an energy drink.
On second thought, that is more sad than amusing.
Like today, when I discovered that, for the people around me, Raging Bull is a ride at Six Flags. If not that, then it is a misnomer for an energy drink.
On second thought, that is more sad than amusing.
Jul 26, 2009
When I Grow Up I Want to Be . . .
Mary Poppins
Why?
I. She has a curious disregard for material possessions
This may be because she can pull things out of a bag, but still, Mary Poppins rises above things.
II. She is never crossUnfortunately, this cannot be said about me, but in my quest to be the Most Laidback Person, Mary Poppins exemplifies a disposition neither bubbly nor nasty, just pleasant.
III. She can sing so beautifully
At every moment of my life I have a
song running through my head. No exaggeration. Whether I am in a class or driving, I am always humming along to a radio in my head (Actually, it's more like a non-stop Ipod shuffle). It's so bad that musicals require no suspension of disbelief from me. So it is with regret that I admit my voice isn't that great. It's not a glass-breaker or dangerously out of tune, but it truly is not pretty. So I envy Mary Poppins' smooth, sweet, warm voice. I know it would make my life happier.IV. She is the impetus for change
The Banks are a normal family. Mom and Dad are comfortably estranged, casually caring toward
their children, and ignorantly happy about almost anything. Sure, a few problems occur with the children every once in a while, but really, they are a marvelous crew. Just like everyone else. And then Mary Poppins comes and suddenly it's not okay to be like everyone else. The children must learn to evaluate their parents as people, alone and needy. The parents have to learn that children should be "patted on the head, and sent off to bed." The whole family has to learn that comfort doesn't mean perfection or happiness. Mary Poppins changes each member of the Banks family by teaching them to observe the corners of the world, and unseen people and the unobserved problem.
When Mary Poppins leaves, she hasn't changed the world, she hasn't even changed the world "one person at a time." She just encourages four people to think about their lives.
So now you know why I want to be like Mary Poppins when I grow up.
(There may be a few other reasons such as her apparent ability to fly, to enter works of art, to dance amazingly, to be pretty, etc., but ignore my humanity for a few minutes.)
Jul 1, 2009
Failure of Epic Proportions
23. 34. 42. 61. What could these numbers be? Dollar amounts? Stock numbers? Ages? Etc.? All wrong.
These numbers are representative of my best bowling games. Yes. I'm that bad. No matter how hard I try, I fail. Through at least 19 other people analyzing my shots and telling me what to fix, I fail. Despite my own attempts at analysis of each hand maneuver and each leg position I still fail.
Why do I suck at bowling?????
It's not a consolation, exactly, but my high Wii bowling score is 269. I average 200 a game. Perfectly respectable.
These numbers are representative of my best bowling games. Yes. I'm that bad. No matter how hard I try, I fail. Through at least 19 other people analyzing my shots and telling me what to fix, I fail. Despite my own attempts at analysis of each hand maneuver and each leg position I still fail.
Why do I suck at bowling?????
It's not a consolation, exactly, but my high Wii bowling score is 269. I average 200 a game. Perfectly respectable.
Jun 16, 2009
What I Saw: Strictly Ballroom
I begin by telling you that Strictly Ballroom isn't my kind of film. I'll admit I have an ever-deepening curiosity about the way Baz Luhrmann sees the world, but still, this isn't quite me. So I wasn't quite prepared to discover that Baz Luhrmann actually sees my world, at least the world I grew up in.
I've never found anything to say about my childhood world that wasn't massively cliched. I'm sure you know what I mean. Greenhouses, bubbles, fences (or hedges) of protection, arbitrary rules, vain traditions, legalism - these are all words commonly used to describe that environment. The people in control have been accused of stifling individuality and creativity, stunting mental and emotional growth, and of being egocentric monsters. I don't like cliches, and I don't like sounding rebellious (which I consider a cliched sound) so I try not to use those expressions or tell my story, but I've never forgotten how wearying it was to grow up in that world.
So imagine my shock when Baz Luhrmann started telling my story.
Scott Hastings is a ballroom dancer. He's talented, he's sure to win the Australian Pan-Pacific Grand Prix, and he is being groomed to become the future of Australian ballroom dancing. Until one day, unthinkably, he improvises. Just for a moment, but he becomes intoxicated with the thrill of freshness. He loses the competition (not the Grand Prix, that's later). Weeping and wailing overflow from his mother (the dance teacher and former competitor), his mother's dance partner (nicer old man), and the Head Honcho of Australian Ballroom Dancing, Barry Fife (not so nice old man). Scott is legitimately confused about their anger. He still loves dancing, more than ever, and certainly the rules of dancing are not moral absolutes. But for Barry and his mother those rules are everything. Barry endeavors to set Scott straight by telling him the truth about his past (revealing that Barry had lied to him all his life).
Sound familiar?
Scott still does not understand what all the fuss is about, but the story Barry tells convinces him to toe the line. Until he finds out that Barry still wasn't telling the truth. Barry never tells the truth. And he cheats.
If you still need more evidence, the dancing world is small and insignificant to everyone outside it, and the fashion is at least 20 years out of date.
See?
The movie is a comedy, so it ends happily (that is, with much dancing). But the whole first half of the film shook me up, and I barely noticed the shiny satins and Spanish rhythms. I just remembered the lies and the seemingly harmless, yet so serious requirements that wrought carnage in the lives of the people around me. What about their happy ending?
Of course this a movie about dancing and romance and I'm reading into it. Of course it is its own version of cliched. But, my friends, it was true.
I've never found anything to say about my childhood world that wasn't massively cliched. I'm sure you know what I mean. Greenhouses, bubbles, fences (or hedges) of protection, arbitrary rules, vain traditions, legalism - these are all words commonly used to describe that environment. The people in control have been accused of stifling individuality and creativity, stunting mental and emotional growth, and of being egocentric monsters. I don't like cliches, and I don't like sounding rebellious (which I consider a cliched sound) so I try not to use those expressions or tell my story, but I've never forgotten how wearying it was to grow up in that world.
So imagine my shock when Baz Luhrmann started telling my story.
Scott Hastings is a ballroom dancer. He's talented, he's sure to win the Australian Pan-Pacific Grand Prix, and he is being groomed to become the future of Australian ballroom dancing. Until one day, unthinkably, he improvises. Just for a moment, but he becomes intoxicated with the thrill of freshness. He loses the competition (not the Grand Prix, that's later). Weeping and wailing overflow from his mother (the dance teacher and former competitor), his mother's dance partner (nicer old man), and the Head Honcho of Australian Ballroom Dancing, Barry Fife (not so nice old man). Scott is legitimately confused about their anger. He still loves dancing, more than ever, and certainly the rules of dancing are not moral absolutes. But for Barry and his mother those rules are everything. Barry endeavors to set Scott straight by telling him the truth about his past (revealing that Barry had lied to him all his life).
Sound familiar?
Scott still does not understand what all the fuss is about, but the story Barry tells convinces him to toe the line. Until he finds out that Barry still wasn't telling the truth. Barry never tells the truth. And he cheats.
If you still need more evidence, the dancing world is small and insignificant to everyone outside it, and the fashion is at least 20 years out of date.
See?
The movie is a comedy, so it ends happily (that is, with much dancing). But the whole first half of the film shook me up, and I barely noticed the shiny satins and Spanish rhythms. I just remembered the lies and the seemingly harmless, yet so serious requirements that wrought carnage in the lives of the people around me. What about their happy ending?
Of course this a movie about dancing and romance and I'm reading into it. Of course it is its own version of cliched. But, my friends, it was true.
May 5, 2009
Sonnet to Darcy
My English teacher, wonderful man that he is, is plagued with a sadistic sense of humor, and without warning forced us to write a sonnet (or ode) for a final exam. I have never written a poem before, and I'll admit that I was almost terrified when I got the paper. But I persevered. And here is the result. I tried to make it somewhat idiotically funny to disguise how clunky it was; to what level the stupidity was purposeful or not, I leave to you to decide. Also, it may require some creative reading to decipher the iambic pentameter, but I would like to point out that most of the poets I have read this semester also require that same creative reading. So there.
Oh Mr. Darcy you have claimed my heart
Possibly because you're rich and tall
Or maybe because you're good, or smart -
But no! I know this doesn't count at all
Your manners I had earlier withstood
Your character was slandered months before
It seemed that you were never up to good
You simply made me angry more and more
Now the point for which I've set my stage
Here it is: There's just one thing I love
About yourself - your willingness to change
(Also called: Desire to improve)
(I need a reason to make Romantics happy
So I'll admit, your landscape makes me sappy)
Oh Mr. Darcy you have claimed my heart
Possibly because you're rich and tall
Or maybe because you're good, or smart -
But no! I know this doesn't count at all
Your manners I had earlier withstood
Your character was slandered months before
It seemed that you were never up to good
You simply made me angry more and more
Now the point for which I've set my stage
Here it is: There's just one thing I love
About yourself - your willingness to change
(Also called: Desire to improve)
(I need a reason to make Romantics happy
So I'll admit, your landscape makes me sappy)
