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.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
"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.
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.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
"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.
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.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
"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.
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:
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.
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