Last Blog

My top three posts from this semester (in my opinion):
1. "Big Two-Hearted River"
     This blog was about the imagery and allusions in said imagery in Ernest Hemingway's "Big Two-Hearted River." 2. "Sestina," by Bishop
     This blog was about, again, the allusions in imagery in "Sestina," by Bishop, including how those metaphors revealed what the unsaid trauma really was. 3. Foreshadowing in "A Good Man is Hard to Find"
     This blog post, the most recent, was about the use of foreshadowing in O'Connor's "A Good Man is Hard to Find." This was in preparation for our small-group discussions, in which I answered the same question.

I selected these three posts because I feel in each I was able to most thoroughly understand and discuss the topic at hand. Most of the posts around about metaphors and what imagery and objects really represent. I feel I discuss these best because it's what intrigues me most when it comes to literature analysis.

Before this class, I never knew that these short stories and poems I've heard about for years or have even read before were so full of deeper meaning I never caught on to. I have never been taught to look so thoroughly into text. Now I look for this in books I read outside class, and I feel it truly enriches the reading experience and helps me better understand literature in general, as well as how it applies to other things in life. There are some great messages and lessons to be learned in many of these texts.

I think I've done very well in this class, with both reading and writing. I have an A and feel it is well-deserved. It wasn't hard to earn that A because I genuinely enjoyed the work for this class and enjoyed coming to class and discussing what we had read. My main weakness was getting all the reading done, or understanding all of it. I would usually get most of the reading done, if not all, but there were usually one poem or a couple of things I didn't quite pick up because I didn't have the time to re-read or look closer into the work. My strength has definitely been anything that involved writing, like the blog posts and midterm essay. I feel much more comfortable with collecting my thoughts when I'm writing them down. As a thinker, I feel I am good at bouncing off of other ideas and thinking up new scenarios as ideas build during our discussions.

I think I deserve an A for this class. I've always done the reading and have responded to all blogs with great care and detail. I participate in discussions and ace the weekly quizzes. My midterm was well researched and I prepared thoroughly for and participated in the small-group discussion. Most of all, I've come to class ready and prepared for discussion and eager to learn more. I enjoyed the class and feel I helped push discussion further along with everyone else. This semester has been a great one and English 278 was my favorite class. Every Friday morning (though a tad too early for my taste) was a joy.

The Crying of Lot 49 Follow-Up: Part I

Okay, so I guess this book is kind of cool. And by "kind of cool," I mean cool because when we discuss it and actually make some sense of this massive literary entanglement, it really does have some awesome themes to it. Problem is, when I'm reading the actual book, I kind of want to rip my hair out. Luckily I'm not too concerned with the dozens of random references and out-of-nowhere ramblings per paragraph, so as I read, I'm just letting whatever passes over my head stay there. The idea of this book about books is intriguing, and I like that Pynchon uses a detective plot and maybe crazy conspiracy theory to exemplify how literary critics tear apart literature, looking for meaning behind every little detail. I mean, isn't that what we've been doing all semester long? There never is a concrete answer, and we will probably never know for sure what the author meant by a blue scarf or metaphorical backpack, but here we are, pulling the pieces one by one to uncover some sort of hidden epiphany? It's interesting to me that he was so annoyed by this that he wrote a whole book on it. I'm excited to find out what the second half of the book all really means, because I'm certain I won't catch on to much of it myself.

The Crying of Lot 49: Part 1

While I can't offer any interpretation anywhere near equal to Kailie's, I can offer my opinion about the book thus far.

The language of the book flows so well that it is easily mistaken as an easy read. However, there are so many references and quirky details that take a second or two to absorb that it ends up being a much more complex novel than it first seems.

I'm left trying to figure out why Oedipa is such a floozy. Why does she so easily get drunk and have sex with this cheesy Metzger guy? Is she unhappy with her marriage to Mucho or is she just a slut? How much of this has really happened? Scott mentioned that there's a lot of moments in the book that may or may not have occurred. Thanks to this, I've been questioning everything that has happened thus far. Did she really have relations with Inverarity? Has he really died? Is this all some fictional story within a story? I really have no idea.

Another thing Kailie mentioned was that a friend of hers said this book is primarily about reading into literature. This makes sense to me as I read it. You can sense the author purposefully makes the story hard to believe. The names and places and goings-on are borderline ridiculous. But this causes us to have to look deeper into it. Why the hell is her psychiatrist's name Dr. Hilarious? How should I know?

One particular image I really enjoyed was that of Oedipa as a sort of false Rapunzel. The image of her long hair turning out to be a wig was really striking to me and is another great example of Pynchon's point that nothing can be taken for face value. I've also noticed how many funny little tricks are hidden throughout the book, like the particularly named KCUF radio station. I'm interested to see how these little things all come together in the grander plot.

Post-Small Discussion Blog

In preparation for last week's small discussion groups, I read the text not one or two times, but three. I needed to in order to find the answers to some of the prompted questions. I went through all of them just to get a feel for the answers to each, but focused on four questions in particular. Using these questions, I combed through the text more thoroughly than usual. My questions concerned use of foreshadowing, Catholicism, and Southern Gothic literature. In order to fully answer these questions, I had to look for every occurrence of, say, foreshadowing. Usually I would read over a short story or poem just once and try to remember what it was about as we prepared to discuss it in class.

Aside from more thoroughly reading through the text this week, I also looked up secondary information to help me answer the prompted questions, especially for the foreshadowing and religious aspects. Using those secondary sources helped me greatly in understanding the story on several deeper levels.

From this exercise, I feel I learned how to more closely read literature. When we, as students, are required to depend only on ourselves for truly understanding the texts, simply reading a story once over will not do. There are so many more ideas out there, and utilizing the information available helps to open up even more questions and helps readers understand even more context. I also learned that no matter how hard you try, one person can never think of every interpretation for one story. I believe that even if someone has studied one text their whole life, they still cannot know what every reader will uncover themselves. That's the beauty of interpretation. Lastly, I relearned (as we've already known this, but it was simply reiterated) that no matter how hard we try as literary critics, there are some things about a story that only the author will ever know and that's part of the reason that literary criticism exists. What the author leaves out, even the smallest of information, can result in a multitude of speculation, dissertations, and hair-pulling frustration.

I found this discussion much more insightful than our regular discussions because we had the whole class time to discuss our story in particular and because we only had this one story to read for the whole week, which allowed much more time to read, reread, and re-reread the text in order to understand it better.

Foreshadowing in "A Good Man is Hard to Find"

To start off, I have to admit I’m slightly embarrassed that I thought I had not yet read Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man is Hard to Find.” I had indeed read it in my creative writing class last spring. I remembered as soon as the first scene emerged: the grandmother and her grandchildren teasing her in the kitchen. I was relieved, however, because I knew having already read it, I could focus on analyzing it more closely this time. One of the questions I decided to answer for our upcoming small group discussions were about the use of foreshadowing, which I’ll discuss here as well.

There are some pretty obvious moments of foreshadowing in the story that stand out, but there are also many that require a fine tooth combing to catch. The following list is what I came up with:

• The first obvious one is when the grandmother warns her son about the Misfit heading Florida, and when she mentions what he did to “those people;” she is hinting that he could just as easily do the same to their family if they were to encounter him.

• June Starr says that their grandmother has to go everywhere they go so she doesn’t miss out on anything, which reiterates in the ending when the grandmother is the only one left alive after her family has been shot in the woods. She has to go everywhere they go, so it is clear she too will be shot and killed.

• The grandmother dresses up nicely so that “in case of an accident, anyone seeing her on the highway would know she was a lady.” She unintentionally is saying that she is prepared to die.

• On the way to Florida, they pass a graveyard. Ominous enough. What makes this more telling is that the buried correlates exactly to the family in the car – three adults, two children, and one baby.

• When the family reaches the diner, the grandmother plays “Tennessee Waltz” on the jukebox, which is a slow and melancholy song with ominous lyrics.

• The city the family crashes their car in is on the outskirts of Toomsboro. It could be argued this is deliberately used to signify the word “tomb.”

• When the Misfit’s car shows up to help them, it is described as big, black, battered and hearselike. This is foreshadowing at its best. The men carrying guns and the smirk on the Misfit’s face are also clear indicators to the reader the danger the family is now in.

• The grandmother mentions that the Misfit’s face looks familiar, which we later learn is from the newspapers and television.

• When the grandmother is trying to talk her way out of being shot, she says, “You wouldn’t shoot a lady, would you?” But the Misfit calls the mother “lady” right before his men take her and the remaining children off to the woods to be shot.

And lastly,

• The grandmother tells the Misfit she has money he can have, and he says, “There never was a body that give the undertaker a tip.” This is the last and final bit of foreshadowing, and the nail in the coffin (pun intended). There’s no doubt now that the Misfit is going to finish off the killing of the family with the grandmother.

Boise State Registration Woes: A Villanelle

There is nothing more maddening than a big, red X
When it follows the heading: Art 109.
I just want to study the artistic subjects

Like Intro to Painting, but oh no, it objects
When I readily click the green “submit” sign.
There is nothing more maddening than a big, red X.

Maybe it’s some dark voodoo, a curse, spell, or hex
That rejects me the classes I need assigned
I just want to study the artistic subjects.

College class scheduling shouldn’t be so complex,
I think as I sit here, yell curses, and whine.
There is nothing more maddening than a big, red X.

So what do I do if I cannot get in next?
Work on a dairy farm, an assembly line?
I just want to study the artistic subjects.

The frustration, it builds, when I see it reject
Each class I sign up for, like Art 109.
There is nothing more maddening than a big, red X,
I just want to study the artistic subjects.

"Sestina," by Bishop

I instantly found Bishop’s “Sestina” fascinating. The tone, repetition, content, and form seem to work so harmoniously, constructing a beautiful, yet painfully sad, moment in time. It’s a snapshot of the burden of human life and its inevitable tragedies.

First thing I wondered about was the almanac. She describes it as a “clever almanac” that the grandmother and child read from and laugh over. This makes me think it could be a reference to The Old Farmer’s Almanac. Whatever it is, it is one of several things repeated throughout the poem, along with tears and the “Little Marvel Stove.”

It’s obvious that there has been a death in the family, probably that of the child’s father. When the child draws a picture of “a man with buttons like tears,” the grandmother “busies herself about the stove.” This direct aversion to the child’s picture insinuates the grandmother has not come to terms with the death and is still mourning. The child shows it “proudly” to her, suggesting the child does not know her father has died, or that she is too young to comprehend the death of her father. If the death is recent, a young child not grasping that their father is gone makes sense. However, I think the child is unaware.

It seems what the overall point of the poem is to show how the grandmother is burying her grief, keeping it to herself, rather than airing it out and coping with the devastation. She busies herself about the stove, tending to its fire. The stove’s fire and warmth it emits could represent the warmth of life she is trying to sustain despite its obvious absence, or the love that she feels for the child’s father (who is either her own son, or her son-in-law). Continuing to keep the fire burning while ignoring the tears that appear throughout the poem (like the rain outside and the steam on the kettle), is a direct reference to her refusal to cope with her overwhelming grief.

I wonder what kind of role the child’s mother plays in her life, as it seems that the grandmother is now the sole caretaker of the child after the death of the child’s father. Has the mother also died? This could be one possibility that explains why the grandmother is trying to hold in that grief. If the child has already lost her mother, the grandmother may want to put off telling the child that her father has also died, to spare her of even more pain. When the child draws a picture of their house, she only draws her dad, so maybe the mother has been gone for quite some time. Just a theory.

"Middle Passage" Follow-Up

"Middle Passage" was clearly a different kind of poem. A black man writing about a racial and moral dilemma that took place almost a century earlier, in a time when such racial hatred wasn't exactly extinct... this was a touchy subject. Hayden takes no prisoners, however, in his truthful and bleak description of the events that occurred on the passage in the late 19th century. He uses great irony throughout the poem, with the names of the boats and the turning roles of the prisoners when they take over the ship. He also puts a lot of religious context into the poem with his hymns and “O Lord”s, but basically insinuates that God doesn’t exist in the Middle Passage, for these acts are of human nature and horror, and cannot be guided by God.

I’m still trying to figure out where the perspective of the captives takes place in the poem. If I can recall correctly, the introduction to the poem in our anthology said the poem took on many perspectives, including the crewmen and the captives, but I can’t seem to find the captives’ voice. I would especially like to hear the voice of Cinquez, the revolt leader and African prince. Maybe it is in there somewhere, and we didn’t get a chance to find it in class, or maybe it’s missing altogether. But as he is a central character, it felt lacking that we only got an external glimpse of him.

John Berryman, 384

John Berryman’s poem numbered 384 is an autobiographical poem about a visit to his father’s grave. We know it is purely autobiographical because he references his father’s suicide, how he killed himself and where it happened. This is too reflective to indicate the speaker is anyone other than Berryman himself. Then why, praytell, does he use his reoccurring character, Henry, in the poem? In the last stanza, he writes, “We’ll tear apart / the mouldering grave clothes ha & then Henry / will heft the ax once more, his final card.” This poem is so obviously about his own father, that I can’t understand why he would use Henry as the speaker.

His tone is bitter, angry. He is raging at his father’s headstone about how he ripped himself out of his life: “I’ve made this awful pilgrimage to one / who cannot visit me, who tore his page out.” He holds such rage for this man that he “spit[s] upon this dreadful banker’s grave.” Moreover, he talks about taking an ax to his casket, tearing it apart, and finally throwing it onto his father. You’d think this source of anger for him would be one he would not want to relive, but Berryman says, “I stand above my father’s grave with rage, / often, often before…I come back for more.” Why come back to this horrible reminder of his father’s suicide? He leaves it flowerless, spits upon it and wishes to completely upheave it.

I think there is no clear answer for such an emotionally wrought piece of literature. I think the purpose Berryman wrote it for was self-cleansing. It also shows us part of his life that influenced him greatly. To ignore something so powerful would be to deny himself a part of his identity. Why does he use Henry? Maybe the issue is so personal that he has to use another speaker to throw off others who aren’t aware of his own personal past. If he never told anyone about his father, no one would suspect this poem was autobiographical at all.

"The Wasteland"

Reading through “The Wasteland” once left me scratching my head. I’m glad I wasn’t alone. I pictured T.S. Eliot as this genius madman rambling on about things only he could possibly understand. After talking about it in class, however, I started to completely understand where Eliot was coming from. In fact, I sympathized with him. Everyone has those feelings of complete helplessness, like the world around you is different, foreign. But expressing these feelings is often taboo. The stigma of mental disorder is so powerful today that I can’t imagine how bad it was in the 1920s. Eliot’s nervous breakdown could have been treated today with psychotherapy and/or pharmaceuticals, but in his time, admitting himself into an insane asylum was really his only option.

I do believe that his mental anguish fostered a great masterpiece in “The Wasteland.” I wish we could have had enough time to discuss the whole poem, since I’d like to know what every line really means. Without knowing every part of the poem, it’s hard to offer too much literary analysis. One part I found interesting though, was the image of the approaching thundercloud. To me, that signifies the existence of a renewal and passing of darkness. He says there’s no sign of rain to come because in his depressive state of mind, that’s exactly how he feels: like he’ll never get better. But the fact he even bothers to mention this rainless cloud tells me that he knows the rain, or renewal, will eventually come.


One of my favorite few lines has to be:
And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

The language here is so powerful and almost intimidating, but poignantly so. Now that I know this person speaking is acting as a guide, it makes it all the more telling. I feel like he’s gearing us toward a journey through hell, exactly what Eliot was experiencing when he wrote this poem. I can see why the poem made the impact it did. I just hope to have the chance to figure it all out sometime.

"Burnt Norton"

Because I couldn't really make heads or tails of "The Waste Land," I decided to take a stab at "Burnt Norton." What I gathered from this poem is that it's about the presence of time, specifically about it's ever-present capacity. Eliot's speaker seems to be saying that the past, present, and future coexist simultaneously, not one after the other.

I find this interesting because I recently saw an episode of "Through the Wormhole" on The Science Channel that centered around the possibility of time not existing. Many scientists suggest that time is merely a human construction of ordering events sequentially. It is innately built in our minds to order events this way, so without that connection, time itself is nonexistent.

T.S. Eliot must have thought the same, but probably not with as much scientific influence. He expresses these feelings in the following lines:

"Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable."

Eliot also touches on events, as hinted in that last line of the stanza. He considers that if time is "unredeemable," then what could have happened only has value in a "world of speculation." Eventually, it all comes back to the present. But I like how Eliot constructs those "what-if" scenarios almost as other worlds -- like the paths we did not take are actually taking place in some other reality somewhere.

But if we were down that imaginary road, we'd still be questioning the other road not taken, in which case this means that no matter what events happen, there will always be an alternate present that may or may not exist adjacent to our reality.

Follow-up to Friday's Discussion

I thoroughly enjoyed last Friday's discussion over Hemingway's "Big Two-Hearted River." I was especially enlightened when Scott posed the possibility of Nick Adams being gay. I thought that this could definitely be the case.

I originally read the line about Hopkins giving his gun away and thought it said that Nick gave Hopkins his gun and then never heard from him again, so I thought this meant Hopkins had committed suicide. I didn't think much else about the matter. After being corrected, I see the multitude of possibilities for this character and his relationship to Nick, and he obviously played an important role in his life if he was one of the only people Nick reminisced about during his trek into nature.

One scene in particular is when he's talking about their argument over how to make coffee the right way. Hemingway says Nick laughs at it, but he makes the coffee Hopkins' way, rather than his own. Why would he do that? I think it was a sentimental action, one that brought him closer to this person he obviously cared so much about.

"Big Two-Hearted River"

“Big Two-Hearted River,” by Ernest Hemingway, at first seems like a simple story of a man finding peace in the wilderness. Upon further scrutiny, however, there are great allusions hidden within the text.

Nick Adams is a soldier returning home from war, where he finds his home completely burnt to the ground. He decides from there to take a hike into the wood. We don’t know much about Nick Adams since the story focuses on his actions more than his thoughts, but as the story continues, we learn more about the troubled life the young man seeks to escape. Reading Hemingway’s biography, we know that Nick, a frequent character in much of his work, is an autobiographical character in many ways. In this story, Nick finds solace in nature, as did Hemingway.

One thing I noticed was that as Nick traveled uphill, he was happy and delighted by his surroundings. Whenever he stopped his hike, however, and sat down, he began to think about the tragedies in his life, like the suicide of his friend Hopkins and an execution he once witnessed, as well as other gruesome scenes he probably witnessed in the war. Noting these two stark contrasts – the traveling Nick who basks in the glee of the natural setting, and the Nick who sits and ruminates those depressing memories – I think the big, two-hearted river is a metaphor for Nick’s lightheartedness and happiness, as well as his pain and turmoil.

I also found that the heavy backpack he carries is a metaphor for the emotional burden he carries. He carries it with him wherever he goes, even as he ascends the river. Even in a happy escape, the burden of life is present and heavy. It can be taken off from time to time, like the backpack, but ultimately it still sits beside you, ready to be worn yet again.

The river acts as a guide for Nick. He is seeking a sense of solace in this outdoor oasis, somewhere he can distract his mind by fishing and cooking and hiking and wading in the river. It acts as a sort of other world for him, away from his horrible reality, the demolished hometown he found when he stepped off that train.

The town being totally abandoned adds to the weight any soldier carries upon return to normal life. They feel alone since nobody else can understand the terrors they’ve experienced. Nick is undoubtedly a lost soul and can find little comfort, even from his birthplace. The only happiness he feels is when, exercising his newfound freedom, he ventures upstream.

A few discussion questions I have:
1. What or who do the grasshoppers represent? Are they representative of the soldiers, blackened by war, or are they a metaphor for a type of tool being used to catch fish (which really seems like a struggle between Nick and something/one else).

2. What about the swamp? He has already exhausted himself climbing this river and catching trout, so it seems acceptable that he would be weary of such a challenge like the swamp. But is there more to it? Does the swamp represent the emotional mess that he must, at some point, confront? Is it representative of his memory of the war, somewhere he would not like to return to just yet? Or is it just a swamp?

Close Reading "America"

"America," by Claude McKay:

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate.
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, nor a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time's unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.""

My understanding of this poem is that it is a black man's perspective of his home country, a place he loves but feels hate reciprocated from. He talks about America with the pronouns "her" and "she," claiming that she has done horrible things to him (or more likely, all African-Americans), but has also inspired and invigorated him with her spirit and strength.

Questions:
1. The title of this poem clarifies who exactly "she" is; without it, we could guess what the speaker may be referring to, but it could prove vague if we don't know who the author/speaker is.

2. The only word I am uncertain of here is unerring. According to Dictionary.com, unerring here means: "invariably precise or correct."

3. There is definitely rhyme in this poem, e.g. tooth/youth, blood/flood. There is also some alliterations in the first two sentences, and in the thirteenth line. The meter is fairly even -- the lines are equal in length.

4. What is literally happening in this poem is the oppression of blacks in America, the American spirit explained through the eyes of one of its compromises (slaves and black people), and the foreseeing of a near-future demise of some kind in America.

5. Some strong images I found in this poem include the "bread," "her tiger's tooth," "tides in my blood," "flood," "Darkly I gaze into the days ahead," "granite wonders," and "priceless treasures sinking in the sand." He's using the "bread of bitterness" and "tiger's tooth" to show how America has hurt the black people. The "vigor [flowing] like tides into [his] blood" and the flood represent the spiritedness of America that, though working against blacks, inspires them as well. "Darkly gazing into the days ahead" and the sinking treasures acts as a prediction of the downfall of America as the speaker sees it now.

6. I know the speaker is living in America because the poem takes place there. I know that America has been an enemy of sorts to him. I know that he recognizes in America an ability to strengthen its constituents though a sense of pride and patriotism. I know he feels that strength flowing through him as well. He also is not scared or hateful toward America. He seems to know something the reader does not. He predicts an ominous future for the America he lives in now. He speaks of this future as a source of revolution for him and his fellow sufferers. He wants good for America, but wants it through a change he finds essential for the success of its future. And finally, he is an oppressed youth, as he states clearly in the poem.

7. The tone of this poem starts out ominous but ends with a sense of hope for what's to come. Words that help set these tones include bitterness, stealing, confess, hell, vigor, strength, hate, rebel, terror, malice, jeer, darkly, might, unerring, priceless, and sinking.

8. This poem is formally structured with even rhymes and length of lines. It offers an almost lyrical feel, like the speaker is telling a story, though we know that the end of the story has yet to come. The structure also lends a strong and powerful voice to the people who are often mistaken to be completely devoid of strength.

9. The tension I find in the poem is really in the beginning and end of the poem, specifically:
(1) "And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,"
(2) "Stealing my breath of life, I will confess"
and (3) " Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand."

10. Some resonating images and words that still strike me from this poem include the tiger's tooth and treasures sinking in the sand. I think both of these lines showcase the most tense and emotional parts of the poem, the tiger's tooth showing the pain that the black people feel America has inflicted upon them, and the sinking treasures being a beacon of hope. When I see the treasures sinking, I see a black man watching them from a distance with a smirk on his face, like he knew it was coming all along.

After close reading this poem, I understand the emotions more deeply than at first glance. From the first reading, you feel those blatant emotions like injustice and revenge, but underneath all of that is a strange sense of gratitude for America and a sense of belonging from the speaker. I feel it pains him to see America in this light despite the truth in it. I feel he also has a great deal of hope and sees great potential in America and what it could be capable of after retiring its anti-black attitude. There's a lot of contradiction but not in a senseless way. The contradiction stems from the speaker's experiences of suffrage from the past and his hope and prophecy for the future.

Midterm Essay Prompt

I found number 5 on the list of possible prompt topics to be very interesting:

"Examine the role of death in multiple texts. In what different ways is death portrayed? Why might death be thought of or experiences differently in different texts?"

This seems like a strong place to start, tough as I begin to write, I may find a more specific question to ask. For now, I think I want to focus on these four texts: "As the Lord Lives, He Is One of Our Mother's Children," by Pauline E. Hopkins, "Chickamauga," by Ambrose Bierce, poems numbers 340, 448, and 479 by Emily Dickinson, and poems numbers X, XIV, and "I [Do Not Weep, Maiden, For War Is Kind]," by Stephen Crane.

I chose these because the two stories are very heavy on race and the Civil War, while Dickinson's and Crane's poems are more about the general idea of death (though there is emphasis on war in Crane's). I want to make sure I'm able to compare and contrast the differences between these writers in terms of their interpretations of death in the different contexts of which they are represented.

Crane Parody

In the depths of Misty Mountains
I saw a creature, haggard, grotesque,
Who, hiding in the shadows,
Held a ring in his hands
And worshipped it.
I said, "What is it friend?"
"It is my precious," he answered
"My own, my love... my... preciousssss."

Washington Vs. Du Bois

W.E.B. Du Bois and Booker T. Washington were both intelligent, hard-working, successful black men. The roots of their fruition, however, were vastly different.

Washington was a young boy when he began working in a salt factory. He learned to read on his own and later attended a school for freed black slaves and worked in a coal mine. He paid his way through college working as a janitor. After his graduation there, he worked as a teacher, which would later become his career.

Conversely, Du Bois was born to non-slave parents and attended a school right off the bat and thrived there. He wrote for African American newspapers and was elected valedictorian. He attended the prestigious Fisk University by the aid of a scholarship raised just for him by local ministers and teachers after his mothers's death. He was awarded grants, went to college in Berlin, earned a Ph.D., and started publishing books.

These divergent boyhoods, in my opinion, greatly influenced both Du Bois' and Washington's views on the course of black people. Respective to their upbringings, Washington suggested the black people to, in Du Bois' words, "give up, at least for the presesnt, three things, -- First, political power, Second, insistence on civil rights, Third, higher education of the Negro youth" (466). Instead, he wanted the Negro to "Cast down [their] bucket[s] where [they] [were]" (442), emphasizing that they should use the resources available to them at the time being to prosper, rather than fight for other (but more desirable and powerful) resources that are out of reach. This ideal is very reflective to how his childhood defined him: by a modest beginning and hard work in physical labor.

Du Bois' suggestions to gain the right for black people to vote, demand civil equality, and offer quality education to all black children reflect his upbringing as well, considering his lifetime of education and attending schools with whites, never being held back because of his race and instead being encouraged forward because of his intellect. His views are more militant in the sense that he is urging for an upheaval of sorts to get what the black people deserve, rather than quietly bide time waiting for a gradual revolution of the black man like Washington suggests. Washington's slow and subtle tactics are more conservative. He wants black people to work in the vocation known well to blacks already; "in agriculture, mechanics, in commerce, in domestic service, and in the professions" (443).

I understand and respect what Washington meant when he said that "there is something in human nature which we cannot blot out, which makes one man, in the end, recognize and reward merit in another, regardless of color or race" (449), meaning that by fighting and forcing the white man to accept and equal himself to that of the black race, the recognition of that race is not sincere. Instead, he believes allowing the white man to come to the conclusion himself to give recognition to that race allows for a more amiable and less violent form of revolution.

Despite my respect for his theory, I must side with W.E.B. Du Bois. This may be because living in 2012 America, I know that race is still a touchy subject and that the freedom of blacks wasn't really fully accepted until the 60s or so. Knowing this influences me to want the black people of 19th century America to fight for their equality, right to vote, and education (and more). I think the incredible plight against the black race merits an equally incredible crusade for their well-earned equality in this country. Had I been asked the same question in the 1890s, I may have answered quite differently, but Washington's passive approach to black equality doesn't earn my vote. Du Bois has, in my opinion, the superior strategy.

Response to Natalie on Grandison

I agree with Natalie that there is great situational irony when Grandison escapes at the very end of the story with his family, because the whole story built him up to be a faithful, happy slave who wanted to return home desperately. He even returns after being abandoned in Canada by Dick Owens; now that shows commitment. Then, he turns around and escapes. That's the last thing to be expected when throughout the whole story Grandison is seemingly completely dedicated to his life as a slave.

I must disagree, however, with the passage Natalie used to exemplify verbal irony. In her bog she said that the line, "You could have knocked me down with a feather," on page 240, is an example of verbal irony. In this case, I think because it is an expression, it does not qualify. When someone says, "You could have knocked me down with a feather," we know that they are implying they were so excited or shocked about the news they just received that they were weak in the knees and could therefore be knocked over with even the lightest touch -- like that of a feather.

Instead, we must look for something that, when said, the speaker (or narrator) means the exact opposite, usually unbeknownst to the receiver of the dialogue. For example, on the same page is the sentence we discussed in class: "The poor nigger could hardly crawl along, with the help of a broken limb." By using the word help the narrator means the exact opposite. A broken limb is anything but helpful. This is verbal irony.

It's small tidbits like this one that can be easily overlooked as irony, so maybe instead of looking at longer sentences or paragraphs, speculate over those choice words that just don't sound quite honest, be it from the voice of a character or that of the narrator.

Oh, the Irony

Charles Chesnutt's "The Passing of Grandison" is a story with hidden ironies, both verbal and situational. Let's take a look:

A first example of verbal irony is written in narrative about Owens' determination to lead Grandison to freedom. The narrator says:
"When two weeks had passed without any apparent effect of evil example upon Grandison, Dick resolved to go on to Boston..."
Here, I believe the author is using "effect of evil" as irony against Colonel Owens' opinion of the abolitionists up North who try to persuade visiting Southern slaves to run away. The author doesn't really believe these free blacks' intent is evil at all, but the opposite - it is virtuous. Their intentions are, anyway.

The second example of verbal irony I found was during their stay in Boston:
"Dick sent [Grandison] on further errands from day to day, and upon one occasion came squarely up to him - inadvertently of course - while Grandison was engaged in conversation with a young white man in clerical garb."
At this point, Dick has been trying different tactics to get Grandison to run away on his own accord. He's had him run errands and left him alone countless times, but each time he returns home, Grandison is there, ready to wait on him. When the author says "inadvertently, of course" in this sentence, he does not mean it. To be inadvertent is to be careless, but Dick is very concerned with Grandison and is indeed very attentive to him in his secret mission to "lose" to the North on this vacation.

Two situational ironies I found are when Charity Lomax and Dick have a discussion about his leaving Grandison in Canada, and the obvious one - when Grandison runs away after returning to the Owens' home, along with his family.

First, when Dick tells Charity that he left Grandison in Canada, she is somewhat angry with him for doing such an "outrageous" thing, which I have reason to doubt she really means since in the beginning she thought the man who had been tried for leading off a slave to be a man of some action, unlike the indolent Dick, and even compared them, saying that at least the other man had tried to do something virtuous and courageous. Here, she is reacting in the opposite. Next, she says:
"But I presume I'll have to marry you, if only to take care of you. You are too reckless for anything; and a man who goes chasing all over the North, being entertained by New York and Boston society and having negroes to throw away, needs some one to look after him."
So now she suddenly decides to marry him. I certainly did not see that coming. I thought she would at most find Dick Owens to be of enough action to give him a chance. And the fact that the reason she will marry him is to care for him and his recklessness, the very recklessness he did to sway her to love him, is a reason I would not have thought. I figured if she did give him the time of day after his return, they would be together and if they did eventually marry, it would be because she delighted in his sudden accomplishment and truly loved him for it.

Second, the obvious situational irony of the whole story: Grandison's real escape at the end of the story. Throughout the whole narration, Grandison's character is rendered unambiguous in any way. Time after time, when given the chance to run away, he does not. In fact, he is scared of the abolitionists - of being taken by them. He seems totally faithful and grateful for his master, almost like a son's love for his father. Never does he waiver in conviction. There is not one moment given to suggest he is considering to run away. Furthermore, after Dick leaves him in Canada, he finds his way back home and through terrible conditions to boot. Then, after all this determination, he ends up running away with Betty, his wife, his mother, aunt, father, uncle, two brothers, and sister. It seems this truly faithful servant was not faithful at all. He simply wouldn't run away without his family.

Responses to Small Blogs (Week 3)

Response to Natalie:

"If we were to take the “storm” as a metaphor, then one could state that the storm was the feelings Alcee Laballiere was having while he was at Calixta’s home."

Though I agree that the "storm" acted as a metaphor for feelings, I believe it was for Calixta's feelings, not Alcee's. I say this because the emphasis was put on Calixta and her emotions, emulating the pattern of the storm outside. However, the storm could have also simply been a metaphor for the encounter. Like we talked about in class, maybe the storm is a means of cleansing for Calixta, who feels contained in her role as a housewife to Bobinot and mother to Bibo. The storm rolls in (i.e. Alcee and his desires) and makes its turmoil (the act of infidelity), but then passes, leaving a cleaner and brighter day behind it (the clarity Calixta has that allows her to resume her role as loving mother and caring housewife). Then again, maybe we are all totally wrong and Kate Chopin meant the storm to be simply that, a storm.

Bierce and Twain

Bierce's "Chickamauga" and Twain's "The Private History of a Campaign That Failed" are both compelling and alternative ways of showing the experiences of war. I personally loved "Chickamauga." The language Bierce uses and the point of view through which he tells his story drew me in right away. Using the innocence of this boy and his play sword seeing for the first time the terrors of wartime was deeply stirring. I found Bierce's detail and uncensored truth gripping. The most terrible, but best line (in my opinion) in "Chickamauga" was this:

"The man...turned upon [the boy] a face that lacked a lower jaw - from the upper teeth to the throat was a great red gap fringed with hanging shreds of flesh and splinters of bone" (127).

Twain's story, on the other hand, was funny. The scenes with the soldiers bickering and tumbling over each other in the wood showed just how unprepared they were for the military life. Like the innocence of the boy, these soldiers don't know what they're really doing and are risking their safety, constantly fleeing from Union soldiers rumored to be hovering their fleet. They never really knew how to handle a confrontation of that nature, despite the role they chose to take as soldiers. The old man at the house they retreated to chastising them shows just how little they knew of what they were doing:

"The old gentleman made himself very frank, and said we were a curious breed of soldiers, and guessed we could be depended on to end up the war in time...He wanted to know why we hadn't sent out a scouting party to spy out the enemy and bring us an account of his strength...before jumping up and stampeding out of a strong position upon a mere vague rumor" (100).

And in both stories, the main characters have a moment of somber realization of the danger they'd been in. The men in "The Private History" shoot a man who had no backup, no weapon, and they weep over their kill, even though in war, that's what any other soldier would have done. Similarly, the boy finds his mother shot in the head at the end of Bierce's story, and only then truly feels the severity of the happenings around him.

Both stories show a view of the Civil War unlike any other wartime story I've read. In fact, I grumbled to myself when I found out we had to read these stories. But when I realized they were so different, I was pleasantly surprised. Bierce and Twain used innocents for perspective. The average American - especially women and children and the affluent - would know nothing about fighting in the war, but neither did these characters. It was a way to open the eyes of the public through characters just like them. Killing a man and feeling the guilt of his death, and running into a swarm of mutilated, dead and dying bodies - those experiences would greatly affect any American just as it did the boy and fleet of soldiers.

The following lines are of (1) the moment with the soldiers shot dead the man on horseback, and (2) the moment when the boy finds his mother shot dead:

"The thought shot through me that I was a murderer; that I had killed a man - a man who had never done me any harm...[The boys] hung over him, full of pitying interest, and tried all they could to help him...I thought with a new despair, 'This thing that I have done does not end with him; it falls upon [his wife and child] too, and they had never did me any harm, any more than he" (Twain 104).

"There...lay the body of a woman...the long dark hair in tangles and full of clotted blood...The child moved his little hands, making wild, uncertain gestures. He uttered a series of inarticulate and indescribable cries - a startling, soulless, unholy sound" (Bierce 129).

Responses to Natalie's and Chelsey's Qustions

Natalie - What was life like for Emily Dickinson?

Emily Dickinson is my all-time favorite poet. One of her poems, called "Hope," is one that I've loved since middle school. Fortunately I once researched Dickinson for a paper and was fascinated by the way she lived her life. I don't remember too many specifics, but I remember reading about how greatly she was affected when her cousin and best friend died at a young age. It seems that may have been a source for her strong views on death. And after attending school she slowly became more and more secluded, like Scott mentioned in class. She was very depressed after another friend of hers died suddenly, but it was during that time of depression and seclusion that she wrote her best work. She actually rewrote many poems and structured them in an orderly way. She really never left her house, which a lot of scholars seem to think shows evidence of some type of mental disorder like agoraphobia. I can only imagine something like that or her severe depression caused her to cut herself off from the outside world. I think she may have been living at home this whole time, never marrying or having children, so I can see how not having the responsibilities of being a homemaker would allow her the time needed to write her poems.

Chelsey - If the Civil War caused the Literary change from Romanticism to Realism, what change has September 11 cause in the Literary world today?

This is a great question, and one could be argued over. I think there was more change from the Civil War because of how many Americans died and because it literally split the country in two. But 9/11 was an event that happened to us from outside sources. I'm not sure that literature itself has changed, but there has definitely been a surge of fictional stories surrounding the events of 9/11. I think it's been long enough to absorb what happened and America is now able to read novels about that day. One example I really enjoyed is Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer. Maybe it just hasn't been enough time since 9/11 to notice a shift in literature. Or maybe 9/11 wasn't the right kind of traumatic event to trigger a movement in literature. We have definitely seen the repercussions in other areas of our culture - our sense of safety, how our government, airports, and war policy has changed... but has it affected the arts? I'm not so sure about that one.

Blog #1: Two Questions

After reading the packet assigned this week, I am scratching my head at Walt Whitman's purpose in "Song of Myself." I'm not the biggest fan of long poetry (I find it arduous to read and impossible to care about, save for Poe's "The Raven"), so naturally I got bored after the first few stanzas. As I started to read "Song of Myself," I noticed that the stanzas in which he talks about himself, I feel repelled by his language, his contradiction and his subtle egoism. With declarations like, "Walt Whitman am I, a Kosmos, of mighty Manhattan the son...No sentimentalist - no stander above men and women, or apart from them," and "I celebrate myself...For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you," he straddles between tooting his own horn and raving about the world and his modesty. So I question what his true intention is in this poem: to celebrate himself, as his first line declares, or to emphasize the greatness of the world around him.

My second question comes from "The Freedman's Story." The article, written by William Parker, recounts his confrontation with slave-catchers. When I finished the article, I wondered why, throughout this time in history, slave owners were so intent on catching runaway slaves. Was it because if they let one go, they might all try to escape? Or is it more than for show? Does the slave owner actually find worth in one escaped slave, enough to send a whole gang of slave-catchers after him? Are slaves that hard to replace? Wouldn't it be easier to let a troublesome slave run away rather than struggle to beat the work out of him (assuming that the slaves most likely to chance their life by running away are the ones most resistant to working)? I want to understand better the dynamics between a slave owner and his slaves - not just that they owned them, but how valuable a slave was to them, and what conditions decided whether or not they sent pursuers after an escapee.