I don't know how many of you know the book The Catcher in the Rye, but we read it last year in the best class I've ever taken called The Coming of Age novel. Thinking about Nicolas Scoby and how I was sobbing over his suicide, I realized some interesting parallels that Scoby has to the main character in TCITR, Holden Caulfield. For those of you who don't know, I'll do a little summarizing and biography-ing below for your edification.
So, TCITR is a short-but-long one/two day journey of a teenage boy named Holden Caulfield. It's the end of the winter semester, and Holden is slated to be expelled from his prestigious all-boys boarding school after being expelled from a long list of other schools. He decides to dip before the semester is officially over and goes wandering around Central Park (in New York) to wait things out. By the end of the novel, the day has passed and the Holden from two years later looks back on this little adventure as a time when he (maybe) grew up a little.
Holden has a very distinct characteristic in that, like Scoby, on the outside, he is very cool and has a facade of being very adult and somewhat mature, but on the inside, he likes childhood and the innocence and purity that comes with it and wants to cherish it. He's uncomfortable with sexual relations with women though he talks about it with his school buddies, he's nice to strangers, and he wants to go back to a time when things were simpler, like in his childhood.
This, I think, is the essence of Scoby's spiral into depression. Basketball, the real essence of basketball, is the childhood memory of it; the purity of just playing the game for the fun of it, no money or pride on the line, just pure simple fun. This was only possible for him during his childhood - everything past that forces some amount of expectation on him. Later, when we see his breakdown and "homesickness", we see that he's trying to bring elements of Hillside to Boston, but more than that he's trying to bring quintessential elements of his childhood back to Boston. Most importantly, these attempts are futile - the smog from the cars he brings back eventually disapates, which I think is a metaphor for how the time of his childhood is gone - time only moves forward, and Scoby can't handle that to a certain extent. His inability to go back to a simpler time when basketball and a god wasn't all he was depresses him and is what ultimately drives him to commit suicide.
Friday, December 13, 2019
Wednesday, November 20, 2019
Turtle Sex
Cast your mind back to something like a week ago. Do you remember the scene where Denver and Beloved watch at the edge of a lake/body of water and see some turtles start to have sex? Why would Morrison add this into her complex novel about life in and right after slavery? We brought this up before class started one day and Mr. Mitchell said "if you want to write a blog post to try to explicate it, go for it". So, this one is for you, Mr. Mitchell (though I suppose all of them are in a way).
The way I interpreted this was how Paul D and Sethe are attempting to love each other. Both Sethe and Paul D are keeping things to themselves at this point. Paul D has his whole backstory; his time at Sweet Home after Sethe leaves, Georgia, Delaware, and his journey to and from these places. Likewise, Sethe at this point still hasn't told Paul D about Beloved's death, why the community isolates her, why the ghost haunts them. Both are okay with reminiscing superficially about Sweet Home to a certain extent, but if they talk too long about it, they reach subjects that are painful, and neither really wants the other's rememories interfering with their own. Sethe specifically says she wishes that her mind didn't have to take in and internalize all the things that are presented to her, including the information about Halle and the butter churn. They are both trying to open up to each other while simultaneously being guarded.
Now, back to turtles. Obviously, there's a parallel here. Turtles have hard shells to protect themselves, just as Sethe and Paul D are trying to protect themselves. And the turtles are trying to make love just as Sethe and Paul D are. But still, why is the turtle sex scene here? I believe it's all for the last line of the scene; "The gravity of their shields, clashing, countered and mocked the floating heads touching". This line illuminates something about Sethe and Paul D's relationship; That even though they are trying to have a loving relationship, heal and move forward (the loving taps of the turtles' heads together), they are hindered by their guards against the world and to each other. Not only that it hinders their love, but it ultimately overrides the love they try to have. It negates their intentions for their relationship and mocks their attempt at moving forward and deepening their relationship.
So yeah. Turtles.
The way I interpreted this was how Paul D and Sethe are attempting to love each other. Both Sethe and Paul D are keeping things to themselves at this point. Paul D has his whole backstory; his time at Sweet Home after Sethe leaves, Georgia, Delaware, and his journey to and from these places. Likewise, Sethe at this point still hasn't told Paul D about Beloved's death, why the community isolates her, why the ghost haunts them. Both are okay with reminiscing superficially about Sweet Home to a certain extent, but if they talk too long about it, they reach subjects that are painful, and neither really wants the other's rememories interfering with their own. Sethe specifically says she wishes that her mind didn't have to take in and internalize all the things that are presented to her, including the information about Halle and the butter churn. They are both trying to open up to each other while simultaneously being guarded.
Now, back to turtles. Obviously, there's a parallel here. Turtles have hard shells to protect themselves, just as Sethe and Paul D are trying to protect themselves. And the turtles are trying to make love just as Sethe and Paul D are. But still, why is the turtle sex scene here? I believe it's all for the last line of the scene; "The gravity of their shields, clashing, countered and mocked the floating heads touching". This line illuminates something about Sethe and Paul D's relationship; That even though they are trying to have a loving relationship, heal and move forward (the loving taps of the turtles' heads together), they are hindered by their guards against the world and to each other. Not only that it hinders their love, but it ultimately overrides the love they try to have. It negates their intentions for their relationship and mocks their attempt at moving forward and deepening their relationship.
So yeah. Turtles.
Monday, November 4, 2019
From the End to the Beginning
Now that we've read through Their Eyes Were Watching God all the way through, I want to go back to the opening again and relate it to the story as a whole. I remember being really confused by it when we first read it, and going back there are some interesting connections to make. The first paragraph refers to ships, saying "For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the horizon" (1). The ships are said to carry every man's dream, which brings to mind the three men that we get to know in Janie's story; Logan, Joe, and Tea Cake. So for whom did the ships land and for whom did they sail on the horizon? Well, we don't really know with Logan, since we never saw the end of his life. For Joe, it seems that he achieved many of his goals. He started the town, became the mayor, had the prettiest wife, etc. However, he failed to reach his internal goal of owning and controlling Janie forever. She does exhibit little acts of rebellion and especially at the end of Joe's life lashes out at him. For Joe, it's like his ship was an illusion on the shore but truly on the horizon. And then there's Tea Cake. Honestly it feels like Tea Cake is the winner here because his dreams were just to live contently and be happy and in love with Janie, all of which he achieved. Even at the end, Janie loved him, and probably deep down Tea Cake also loved Janie. His ship officially landed.
The second short paragraph talks about women, who "forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget" (1). This also is interesting to look at in retrospect, as this theme is carried in the telling of Janie's story. She tells very little about her relationship with Logan, mostly because she didn't enjoy it and wants to forget it. She tells little details of her twenty year relationship with Joe because there are important lessons to have from that relationship, but there isn't much there compared to her retelling the story of her and Tea Cake, which may actually be longer than the number of pages given to her story with Joe. This is because her time with Tea Cake is actually something she holds dearly to her heart and she wants to remember every moment she spent with him down to the last second.
The second short paragraph talks about women, who "forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget" (1). This also is interesting to look at in retrospect, as this theme is carried in the telling of Janie's story. She tells very little about her relationship with Logan, mostly because she didn't enjoy it and wants to forget it. She tells little details of her twenty year relationship with Joe because there are important lessons to have from that relationship, but there isn't much there compared to her retelling the story of her and Tea Cake, which may actually be longer than the number of pages given to her story with Joe. This is because her time with Tea Cake is actually something she holds dearly to her heart and she wants to remember every moment she spent with him down to the last second.
Friday, October 18, 2019
Laughter
Let's talk about laughter. All the novels we've read have featured it. You might be thinking "But Jenna, every book with people has laughter in it! Why are we talking about this like it's some big deal?". And to that I answer, my dear friend, is because laughter means something bigger than just a funny joke in the three novels we have read so far. Let's start first with Native Son.
In Native Son, we don't often hear laughter. It's a harrowing story, after all, so this kind of makes sense. There's not many opportunities for us to laugh; it's not meant to be funny. The few times we do hear laughter, it's either at a character's expense or highly highly ironic, usually in situations that are so bad all you can do is laugh. Laughter in this context is a sign of lost hope. When all hope is lost, what can you do but laugh? Laughter is the only thing to do in such dismal circumstances, and it hurts to hear Bigger laugh. It signifies that he thinks there really is no way out of this stupid horrible circumstance.
Now let's compare that to Invisible Man. In Invisible Man, we see many characters laugh. The book is different from Native Son in that it's supposed to be funny; sometimes, we too are allowed to laugh. Laughter in this novel is used as a signal of subverting authority and expectations of the status quo. Bledsoe laughs when he finally lets down the mask in front of the narrator, the vet laughs at Norton's expense, and the narrator at the end with the committee meeting can hardly stop himself from joking around, pulling the brothers on a string, wanting to laugh so badly. We can see how much laughter plays a role in lifting people up in this novel. It gives people power rather than signifying when all power is lost.
Now let's shift to Their Eyes Were Watching God. In this novel, there isn't much mention of laughter until Tea Cake shows up. Before, in her two relationships, there's hardly any mention of laughter. Her partners seemed focused on their own goals and ideals for Janie, and never stop to consider her and her needs. Tea Cake on the other hand loves to make Janie laugh, and actually seems to care for Janie. This shows how laughter in this novel conveys lifting people up in terms of love. The laughter they share shows the connection between them, and shows that Janie is actually falling in love, and that Tea Cake (hopefully) is as well.
In Native Son, we don't often hear laughter. It's a harrowing story, after all, so this kind of makes sense. There's not many opportunities for us to laugh; it's not meant to be funny. The few times we do hear laughter, it's either at a character's expense or highly highly ironic, usually in situations that are so bad all you can do is laugh. Laughter in this context is a sign of lost hope. When all hope is lost, what can you do but laugh? Laughter is the only thing to do in such dismal circumstances, and it hurts to hear Bigger laugh. It signifies that he thinks there really is no way out of this stupid horrible circumstance.
Now let's compare that to Invisible Man. In Invisible Man, we see many characters laugh. The book is different from Native Son in that it's supposed to be funny; sometimes, we too are allowed to laugh. Laughter in this novel is used as a signal of subverting authority and expectations of the status quo. Bledsoe laughs when he finally lets down the mask in front of the narrator, the vet laughs at Norton's expense, and the narrator at the end with the committee meeting can hardly stop himself from joking around, pulling the brothers on a string, wanting to laugh so badly. We can see how much laughter plays a role in lifting people up in this novel. It gives people power rather than signifying when all power is lost.
Now let's shift to Their Eyes Were Watching God. In this novel, there isn't much mention of laughter until Tea Cake shows up. Before, in her two relationships, there's hardly any mention of laughter. Her partners seemed focused on their own goals and ideals for Janie, and never stop to consider her and her needs. Tea Cake on the other hand loves to make Janie laugh, and actually seems to care for Janie. This shows how laughter in this novel conveys lifting people up in terms of love. The laughter they share shows the connection between them, and shows that Janie is actually falling in love, and that Tea Cake (hopefully) is as well.
Thursday, September 26, 2019
Seeing Humanity
We have FINALLY gotten to a point where our narrator is conscious of his invisibility and how people are treating him. It's been a long ride but honestly the pay-off is pretty nice. I think the main thing that really got him to see his invisibility is his own tendency to see people's humanity. Invisibility in an essence is the removal of humanity from a person, whether you are the invisible one or the one who is cannot see another, the basis is that you see a figure instead of a person. I feel like the narrator doesn't really see anyone in his life as human for a long time; Bledsoe is a goal, then an object of hatred, the veterans are all just crazy figures, Mr. Norton is a figure of white power, Jack and the other brothers are just an avenue into history, and it's not until he gets to Harlem that he starts to really see people as people. Most importantly in my opinion are Brother Tarp and Tod Clifton.
The narrator sees Brother Tarp after they talk about his time in slavery and how he escaped. Before, perhaps he was another invisible man to the narrator, but afterwards, the narrator truly sees Brother Tarp. This is not to say that he knew everything there was to know about Brother Tarp, rather that he recognized the 3-dimensional nature of him and realized that there was more than met the eye, and made an effort to understand it. He respects Brother Tarp and sees how his history shaped him. I think one very important part in seeing people clearly is seeing and understanding their past, and the narrator's insight into Brother Tarp's past helps him see Brother Tarp.
And then there's Tod Clifton. At first, Tod is also invisible to the narrator; he is just seen as a pretty boy with a nice voice and ideas that coincided with the narrator. The narrator sees him as a partner, but doesn't see him as a man. That is, until the incident with the dolls and the abrupt ending of Tod's life. Only then does the narrator fully realize Tod as a person, which he expresses at the funeral and at the meeting with the Brotherhood. He recognizes that they put Tod onto a pedestal and turned him into a symbol, stripping away his humanity. He recognizes that Tod was much more nuanced, and that he was "full of contradictions" and that is the nature of humanity. Most importantly, the narrator pronounces him a man; not a hero, not an angel, but a man. He had flaws and the narrator acknowledges this and sees that he must have had complicated circumstances. Again, he doesn't know everything about Tod - far from it - but it's his acknowledgement of that and that there was more to Tod erases his invisibility.
The question of seeing humanity in people is the reason why the Brotherhood is blind; they can only see the numbers and big picture - they can't see the people as people.
The narrator sees Brother Tarp after they talk about his time in slavery and how he escaped. Before, perhaps he was another invisible man to the narrator, but afterwards, the narrator truly sees Brother Tarp. This is not to say that he knew everything there was to know about Brother Tarp, rather that he recognized the 3-dimensional nature of him and realized that there was more than met the eye, and made an effort to understand it. He respects Brother Tarp and sees how his history shaped him. I think one very important part in seeing people clearly is seeing and understanding their past, and the narrator's insight into Brother Tarp's past helps him see Brother Tarp.
And then there's Tod Clifton. At first, Tod is also invisible to the narrator; he is just seen as a pretty boy with a nice voice and ideas that coincided with the narrator. The narrator sees him as a partner, but doesn't see him as a man. That is, until the incident with the dolls and the abrupt ending of Tod's life. Only then does the narrator fully realize Tod as a person, which he expresses at the funeral and at the meeting with the Brotherhood. He recognizes that they put Tod onto a pedestal and turned him into a symbol, stripping away his humanity. He recognizes that Tod was much more nuanced, and that he was "full of contradictions" and that is the nature of humanity. Most importantly, the narrator pronounces him a man; not a hero, not an angel, but a man. He had flaws and the narrator acknowledges this and sees that he must have had complicated circumstances. Again, he doesn't know everything about Tod - far from it - but it's his acknowledgement of that and that there was more to Tod erases his invisibility.
The question of seeing humanity in people is the reason why the Brotherhood is blind; they can only see the numbers and big picture - they can't see the people as people.
Friday, September 13, 2019
Gradations of Grandfathers
Throughout Invisible Man our narrator has mentioned multiple people who have greatly influenced his view on race and his relationship to the race and responsibility to it, the first of which is his grandfather. His grandfather told him "I have been a traitor all my born days, a spy in the enemy's country (...) Live with your head in the lion's mouth. I want you to overcome 'em with yeses, undermine 'em with grins, agree 'em to death and destruction, let 'em swoller you till they vomit or bust wide open" (16). The narrator continues through his life meeting people who's life philosophies are often very similar to his grandfather's words, although slightly altered in some ways. The first person who we encounter who is reminiscent of his grandfather is the vet.
The vet is able to dissect the narrator's situation and consciousness with uncanny accuracy. He seems to have followed the grandfather's life advice pretty closely. He speaks to Mr. Norton without deference, speaks sarcastically to him, and laughs at his expense. One could say that the vet is a reincarnation of the grandfather or someone who follows the grandfather's footsteps. However, there is a slight difference; the vet's position in society. While the vet has been exiled to the edges of society, the grandfather was able to keep his position for all his life, effectively being a spy for all his days. The vet, on the other hand, was only able to while he was practicing and while he understood the nature of being invisible. Once he was sent of to the psychiatric ward he no longer really functioned the same way as the grandfather.
The next person we encounter who is reminiscent of the grandfather is Dr. Bledsoe. Bledsoe seems to be the perfect follower of the grandfather's doctrine; he is a public figure, he has all the white people fooled, and knows how to get what he wants. However, he lacks the community aspect that the grandfather carried. As he said "learn it to the young'ns", he is emphasizing the need to teach everyone, not just keep this technique or power hidden for oneself (16). Bledsoe on the other hand is fully in the game of life for himself and thinks of no one else.
Who really is more grandfatheresque then? What is more the essence of following the grandfather's doctrine?
The vet is able to dissect the narrator's situation and consciousness with uncanny accuracy. He seems to have followed the grandfather's life advice pretty closely. He speaks to Mr. Norton without deference, speaks sarcastically to him, and laughs at his expense. One could say that the vet is a reincarnation of the grandfather or someone who follows the grandfather's footsteps. However, there is a slight difference; the vet's position in society. While the vet has been exiled to the edges of society, the grandfather was able to keep his position for all his life, effectively being a spy for all his days. The vet, on the other hand, was only able to while he was practicing and while he understood the nature of being invisible. Once he was sent of to the psychiatric ward he no longer really functioned the same way as the grandfather.
The next person we encounter who is reminiscent of the grandfather is Dr. Bledsoe. Bledsoe seems to be the perfect follower of the grandfather's doctrine; he is a public figure, he has all the white people fooled, and knows how to get what he wants. However, he lacks the community aspect that the grandfather carried. As he said "learn it to the young'ns", he is emphasizing the need to teach everyone, not just keep this technique or power hidden for oneself (16). Bledsoe on the other hand is fully in the game of life for himself and thinks of no one else.
Who really is more grandfatheresque then? What is more the essence of following the grandfather's doctrine?
Friday, August 30, 2019
Licensed Invisibility
Being invisible (in the case of this class) isn't about being literally invisible, it's about your true self being invisible to another person. They don't see you for you, they see whatever they want to see. This is an issue brought up both by Ellison and Young (the author of "A Poem for Players"). In his poem, Young riffs on the idea of being allowed to do things, e.g. being allowed to be sports stars or jazz musicians or even politicians. However, these are very specifically and carefully chosen players; namely, they're players who are deemed "acceptable" by the society at large, specifically white society. This is where Mr. Mitchell brought up the idea of being "licensed", meaning that you're allowed to live with some terms and conditions. You're allowed to be certain things as long as you color inside the lines. To me, being licensed and being invisible are very similar things. If you're licensed, you're allowed to go about your life doing whatever you want so long as you stay in the boundaries. This means that society as a whole is free to ignore you for who you are and slot you in as whoever they want to see you as, since you meet the status quo. However, this deal breaks once your license is revoked and you're seen as breaking the status quo. You're still invisible, as no doubt you'll still only be a figment of whatever the other person wants to see, but you'll be invisible in plain sight. This insight is what I see as the final stanza of "A Poem for Players", which ends with "They'll let you play anybody but you / That's pretty much what they will do".
But who is "they"?. We got to this in discussion in class, but at a first glance it seems like "they" is white people/societal norms, which makes sense, but there's another side to "they", which is also the black community. While you can be invisible to an outside community from your own quite easily, you can just as easily be invisible to your own. We briefly talked in class about how Wright talked about the inevitability of black critics towards Bigger Thomas, seeing him as a bad example of the black community. Likewise, we see our narrator in Invisible Man being ashamed and scoffing at the lower class non-educated black members of society. Thus, it is important to note that the figures mentioned in "A Poem for Players" are all very safe-for-families members of the black community, which members of both the white community and black community valued.
So ... Yeah !
But who is "they"?. We got to this in discussion in class, but at a first glance it seems like "they" is white people/societal norms, which makes sense, but there's another side to "they", which is also the black community. While you can be invisible to an outside community from your own quite easily, you can just as easily be invisible to your own. We briefly talked in class about how Wright talked about the inevitability of black critics towards Bigger Thomas, seeing him as a bad example of the black community. Likewise, we see our narrator in Invisible Man being ashamed and scoffing at the lower class non-educated black members of society. Thus, it is important to note that the figures mentioned in "A Poem for Players" are all very safe-for-families members of the black community, which members of both the white community and black community valued.
So ... Yeah !
Monday, August 19, 2019
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
What Happened To You?
I swear I just got slapped by Black Swan Green when I read that line in Sag Harbor, when Melanie and Benji are reminiscing about how things were when they were just kids. Melanie then asks Benji "What happened to you?". Just like Holly (?) asked Jason towards the end of his story. Which I find really interesting. In both cases, these characters kind of pop up towards the end of the book, presumably towards the end of the character's developmental arc, and asks "what happened to you?". This could, of course, be a ploy to get the reader to really think about what they just read for the last 3/4 of the book, but it could also be something to force the character themselves to reflect. What did happen to them? Did they really change?
I also think it's interesting that in both cases, the questioning character is a girl. A girl who shows up later and is nice to our main character, who seems to understand him in a way that no one else has yet. Not to say that she's perfect and understands everything about him, but she understands him and sympathizes with him. I don't really know what to make of the fact that they're girls who are insightful - maybe it's the authors acknowledging the girls' sensitivity to matters, maybe it's the authors recognizing that the entrance of girls into the boys' worlds brings something new and more intimate in a non-romantic or sexual way that the boys don't seem to really think about.
Unrelated (or related, you decide), it's interesting how both Holly and Melanie end up 1. making the first move on their guy and 2. end up kissing the guy and 3. end up splitting up with the guy not long after due to travel circumstances.
I also think it's interesting that in both cases, the questioning character is a girl. A girl who shows up later and is nice to our main character, who seems to understand him in a way that no one else has yet. Not to say that she's perfect and understands everything about him, but she understands him and sympathizes with him. I don't really know what to make of the fact that they're girls who are insightful - maybe it's the authors acknowledging the girls' sensitivity to matters, maybe it's the authors recognizing that the entrance of girls into the boys' worlds brings something new and more intimate in a non-romantic or sexual way that the boys don't seem to really think about.
Unrelated (or related, you decide), it's interesting how both Holly and Melanie end up 1. making the first move on their guy and 2. end up kissing the guy and 3. end up splitting up with the guy not long after due to travel circumstances.
Sunday, May 5, 2019
Transfer Patient 134
Here's a link to my semester project, if you're interested! All I'll say is that it features a lovely little doctor by the name of Dr. Gordon and a not-so-mysterious narrator, so I'm sure that'll be a fun ride for all of us. Link
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Be NICE
I just finished reading the chapter "rocks" and I gotta say I'm really feeling Jason, and not super feeling anyone else (except maybe Julia a little more than before). Mitchell does a really good job of weaving the scenes back and forth between the war overseas and the war raging in Jason's house. He does a really good job of capturing Jason's frustrations and make the reader really empathetic towards them. Reading about how Jason's mom and dad were being petty and sarcastic and just nasty towards each other made me want to gauge my brain out with a spoon, and part of the reason is because of the background of the war. The community just lost at least one member, a young member, and it feels like Jason's mom and dad don't even flinch. The rocks and stuff feel completely trivial in the light of how close the war is hitting home, and it's like Jason's parents can't get their heads out of their asses.
Normally, it would be kind of fun to watch the verbal sparring, like with Julia and Uncle Brian in the earlier scene, but it's not. Both Jason's mom and dad are kind of witty, sarcastic, and that would be fun if it wasn't for the war that killed someone's son. Mind you, someone close in age to both of their children.
Also, it's just frustrating to watch people who could be okay throw everything away just from stubbornness and lack of communication. Michael had a chance when Helena sat him down to talk about the finances, but instead he exploded. Helena had the chance with the mix-up about the delivery date. But instead, they chose to be spiteful and passive aggressive, and that gives me such a gross feeling. The solution to the problem isn't simple, no, but certainly there are better ways to make the situation better.
To sum it all up, and to quote Jason, "I want to kick this moronic bloody world in the bloody teeth over and over till it bloody understands that not hurting people is ten bloody thousand times more bloody important than being right"
So, if you're feeling passive aggressive towards someone or being spiteful or mean or whatever, please take a second to reconsider why you're doing it, if it's the best way to fix the problem, and if you can, just BE NICE for the love of the world.
Friday, April 5, 2019
Apathy... not
Sylvie's way of life and outlook on life struck me as kind of admirable. Not that I'd like to be a person in her life, but that maybe having a little bit of her outlook in my life would probably relieve some of my stress. She kind of takes things as she goes and accepts whatever life throws at her. Life gives her lemons and she shrugs and eats them and is fine with it. It seems like the ultimate stress-free way to live, and that's super attractive as someone who is plagued by stress. However, there is a problem and I kind of foreshadowed it in the first sentence, as much as a paragraph can have foreshadowing; it's only good for yourself. For the people around you, apathy can become kind of horrible because it feels like you don't care about them. That's Lucille's problem with Sylvie; she thinks that Sylvie is apathetic towards the girls and feels she isn't cared for. Which is one of the worst feelings in the world, like when you're with a group of friends and it feels like it wouldn't matter if you were there or not. Just a really lonely feeling.
However, I don't think Sylvie's outlook on life is actually apathy, or at least not full-blown complete and total apathy. Sylvie is kind of just go-with-the flow taken to an extreme. It's clear that she does care about the girls. Why would she come back to Fingerbone if she was completely apathetic? If she truly didn't care, then she would have just kept moving with her life. It's not like Fingerbone is a big town either, and any harsh words that might be said about Sylvie would almost definitely never have any repercussions for her. She came back because she does care, she just doesn't know how. Why would she stay if she didn't care? Why would she do anything with the girls or try to play nice with them if she didn't care? She really isn't apathetic. She just doesn't know how to show that she cares. Her "go-with-the-flow" way of life and caring for others aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, as we can see at the end when Ruth goes with her.
I'm not saying that Sylvie's not to blame for Lucille leaving, however. Lucille desperately wanted someone stable in her life, and Sylvie definitely did not feel stable. Of course she left. She wanted to be cared for and Sylvie didn't make her feel cared for. This is the product of Sylvie's way of life being her double-edged sword - she clearly did care for Lucille, but the way that she cared for Lucille wasn't enough and it pushed her away.
However, I don't think Sylvie's outlook on life is actually apathy, or at least not full-blown complete and total apathy. Sylvie is kind of just go-with-the flow taken to an extreme. It's clear that she does care about the girls. Why would she come back to Fingerbone if she was completely apathetic? If she truly didn't care, then she would have just kept moving with her life. It's not like Fingerbone is a big town either, and any harsh words that might be said about Sylvie would almost definitely never have any repercussions for her. She came back because she does care, she just doesn't know how. Why would she stay if she didn't care? Why would she do anything with the girls or try to play nice with them if she didn't care? She really isn't apathetic. She just doesn't know how to show that she cares. Her "go-with-the-flow" way of life and caring for others aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, as we can see at the end when Ruth goes with her.
I'm not saying that Sylvie's not to blame for Lucille leaving, however. Lucille desperately wanted someone stable in her life, and Sylvie definitely did not feel stable. Of course she left. She wanted to be cared for and Sylvie didn't make her feel cared for. This is the product of Sylvie's way of life being her double-edged sword - she clearly did care for Lucille, but the way that she cared for Lucille wasn't enough and it pushed her away.
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Esther as my reflection
Okay, if you're here for a fun, interesting blog post, this ain't it, come back later. This is going to be a much more serious and kind of intimate post, so if that makes you uncomfortable, this is your heads up. Also, it's going to be quite a bit longer, so if you're in, stick in for a long haul. Also also, I guess, a trigger warning for detailed descriptions of depression and suicidal thoughts - if that stuff isn't your cup of tea or triggers you in any way, you should probably stop now. Last chance to turn away ends here.
In The Catcher in the Rye while Holden and Mr. Antolini talk, Holden brings up how he doesn't feel school brings him anything. Mr. Antolini says that books can really help him, saying there are people who feel the same way as he does and have written about their experiences, and reading about them will help Holden not feel so alone. The Bell Jar honestly is that book for me.
By now we have established that Esther almost definitely has some sort of depression, and as we get deeper into the novel, it seems to be getting worse. More and more she struggles to get out of bed, feels herself disappearing, loses her self-identity, and just generally feels that she's living a lie. Not only that, but she doesn't seem to have the vocabulary or knowledge to realize exactly what is going on or what she can do to help herself. She knows something is off about herself, especially in terms of not being the "perfect girl" anymore, but she doesn't seem to realize how deeply it is affecting her. She feels she's being dragged along by people and life and doesn't know where she wants to go.
Honestly, I wish I had found this book earlier, or had been introduced to it earlier (thank you Mr. Mitchell for giving it to us) because just about everything Esther has gone through emotionally really resonated with me. It's a struggle every morning to get out of bed, to make myself pay attention in class, to do my homework, and just to keep up with everything. There's almost no motivation in me to keep going. Life feels like a treadmill that is on a setting that's a smidge too fast for me, but because I can just barely keep up, I can't make myself give up, and even if I take a break to regain my footing, the treadmill gets faster so when I try to get back on, it's even harder than before. So I keep going, getting closer and closer to breakdowns and hoping I make it through the day. It got to a point where I would just walk around aimlessly between activities in the evening and hope a car would hit me, or that I'd catch hypothermia and die, or I'd think about finding a high place to fall off of just to stop the joyless life that I had. Which seems selfish, but that's how it was.
The crazy part about all of this is that like Esther, I didn't realize this was depression for a long time. I thought it was just burnout, that it would go away with Thanksgiving break, then winter break, and with each break that follows. I thought that's just what junior year does to you. I realize now that it's not (and should not be) just junior year, but the onset of depression. I got a diagnosis about a month ago.
The even crazier part was that even after the diagnosis, I kind of doubted if I really have depression. That is, I questioned if it was all in my head, if I just wanted to feel special and this was my messed up brain's really messed up way of making myself feel different from everyone else. That is, until we started into this book.
Reading Esther's thoughts was like staring at myself in a mirror, if that mirror was a few years down the road for my life and about fifty years in the past. Nonetheless, hearing Esther struggle through the same things I struggle through and being able to clearly pinpoint them as signs of depression made me realize just how real the mental illness is. Plath does an amazing job with her descriptions on the thoughts one has with depression and just a general outlook on life. And of course she does; she went through it too.
But also, reading about Esther and her thoughts has given me a kind of way out, or a view of a way out. She alludes briefly to how this was "before" and how she has a life now, and that she did come out of the situation. After reading her thoughts and getting to know her, I really hope that she will or can also share that process of getting out of the hole. Even if she can't just knowing that someone who felt the same way as me came out of it gives me hope. I know my problems, and now Esther's problems, and knowing that there are solutions to those problems gives me hope.
If you feel yourself uncomfortably staring at yourself as you read about Esther, I strongly encourage you to talk to someone, and don't ignore those feelings or put them off. They are real and they are valid.
In The Catcher in the Rye while Holden and Mr. Antolini talk, Holden brings up how he doesn't feel school brings him anything. Mr. Antolini says that books can really help him, saying there are people who feel the same way as he does and have written about their experiences, and reading about them will help Holden not feel so alone. The Bell Jar honestly is that book for me.
By now we have established that Esther almost definitely has some sort of depression, and as we get deeper into the novel, it seems to be getting worse. More and more she struggles to get out of bed, feels herself disappearing, loses her self-identity, and just generally feels that she's living a lie. Not only that, but she doesn't seem to have the vocabulary or knowledge to realize exactly what is going on or what she can do to help herself. She knows something is off about herself, especially in terms of not being the "perfect girl" anymore, but she doesn't seem to realize how deeply it is affecting her. She feels she's being dragged along by people and life and doesn't know where she wants to go.
Honestly, I wish I had found this book earlier, or had been introduced to it earlier (thank you Mr. Mitchell for giving it to us) because just about everything Esther has gone through emotionally really resonated with me. It's a struggle every morning to get out of bed, to make myself pay attention in class, to do my homework, and just to keep up with everything. There's almost no motivation in me to keep going. Life feels like a treadmill that is on a setting that's a smidge too fast for me, but because I can just barely keep up, I can't make myself give up, and even if I take a break to regain my footing, the treadmill gets faster so when I try to get back on, it's even harder than before. So I keep going, getting closer and closer to breakdowns and hoping I make it through the day. It got to a point where I would just walk around aimlessly between activities in the evening and hope a car would hit me, or that I'd catch hypothermia and die, or I'd think about finding a high place to fall off of just to stop the joyless life that I had. Which seems selfish, but that's how it was.
The crazy part about all of this is that like Esther, I didn't realize this was depression for a long time. I thought it was just burnout, that it would go away with Thanksgiving break, then winter break, and with each break that follows. I thought that's just what junior year does to you. I realize now that it's not (and should not be) just junior year, but the onset of depression. I got a diagnosis about a month ago.
The even crazier part was that even after the diagnosis, I kind of doubted if I really have depression. That is, I questioned if it was all in my head, if I just wanted to feel special and this was my messed up brain's really messed up way of making myself feel different from everyone else. That is, until we started into this book.
Reading Esther's thoughts was like staring at myself in a mirror, if that mirror was a few years down the road for my life and about fifty years in the past. Nonetheless, hearing Esther struggle through the same things I struggle through and being able to clearly pinpoint them as signs of depression made me realize just how real the mental illness is. Plath does an amazing job with her descriptions on the thoughts one has with depression and just a general outlook on life. And of course she does; she went through it too.
But also, reading about Esther and her thoughts has given me a kind of way out, or a view of a way out. She alludes briefly to how this was "before" and how she has a life now, and that she did come out of the situation. After reading her thoughts and getting to know her, I really hope that she will or can also share that process of getting out of the hole. Even if she can't just knowing that someone who felt the same way as me came out of it gives me hope. I know my problems, and now Esther's problems, and knowing that there are solutions to those problems gives me hope.
If you feel yourself uncomfortably staring at yourself as you read about Esther, I strongly encourage you to talk to someone, and don't ignore those feelings or put them off. They are real and they are valid.
Friday, February 15, 2019
Catcher and a Toy
Yesterday in class we talked about Holden's ideal job of being a catcher in the rye (roll credits). He wants to be in a world filled with children and just help them and make sure they don't fall. We then moved to what job in reality Holden could actually do, and I immediately thought of an elementary school teacher or something. He would be able to see kids at their prime innocent stage where no one's being phony, he wouldn't get a whole bunch of recognition that could potentially go to his head. And, as Emma pointed out, the kids in his life would keep coming back the same age, essentially never growing older. This immediately made me think of Toy Story 3, where Andy is heading off to college and the toys haven't been played with for a while. Spoilers ahead.
The toys are taken to a day care on accident, where they realize the magic of being day care toys instead of just one kid. They get played with a bunch, lots of love, and all their anxieties about the kids growing up and forgetting them is taken care of by the fact that new kids cycle in every year, so they get lots of love all the time. This is directly related to Holden becoming a teacher, the whole cycling kids out and them never really growing up thing really resonates with Woody, the main toy. However, the toys soon realize that there's corruption in the daycare toy system, yada yada, and eventually come to realize that Andy never meant to send them to the daycare! They realize how much more it means to be toys who belong to someone, something that really makes a difference in a person's life more so than just a passing toy they have for a year.
This made me realize that maybe if Holden became a teacher, he wouldn't have come of age to his potential. He would still be stuck in the state of bliss that the toys were in before the whole epiphany of bonding with one special kid, even if that means watching them grow up and leave. In this way, I think Holden needs to stop wishing that he could keep cycling around and being a kid himself (think; he's the only big person in the field of rye - basically one of the kids?), and realize that him growing up is okay, and getting to know himself and bonding with himself and the kids in his life (think Phoebe) and watching them grow up is worth more than just trying to preserve a view on the world with innocent kids being the only population.
The toys are taken to a day care on accident, where they realize the magic of being day care toys instead of just one kid. They get played with a bunch, lots of love, and all their anxieties about the kids growing up and forgetting them is taken care of by the fact that new kids cycle in every year, so they get lots of love all the time. This is directly related to Holden becoming a teacher, the whole cycling kids out and them never really growing up thing really resonates with Woody, the main toy. However, the toys soon realize that there's corruption in the daycare toy system, yada yada, and eventually come to realize that Andy never meant to send them to the daycare! They realize how much more it means to be toys who belong to someone, something that really makes a difference in a person's life more so than just a passing toy they have for a year.
This made me realize that maybe if Holden became a teacher, he wouldn't have come of age to his potential. He would still be stuck in the state of bliss that the toys were in before the whole epiphany of bonding with one special kid, even if that means watching them grow up and leave. In this way, I think Holden needs to stop wishing that he could keep cycling around and being a kid himself (think; he's the only big person in the field of rye - basically one of the kids?), and realize that him growing up is okay, and getting to know himself and bonding with himself and the kids in his life (think Phoebe) and watching them grow up is worth more than just trying to preserve a view on the world with innocent kids being the only population.
Thursday, January 24, 2019
Blame
Okay, so Stephen is growing up pretty fast. He's doing a lot of things that I think most of us can say are objectively not great. He's also got some pretty unsavory thoughts about other people. What I started thinking about was how much is Stephen to blame for all of these things that he thinks and does? How much is he to blame for his own mental state?
For example, in class today Emma brought up how ironic it is that because of the Catholic church, Stephen is pushed to have sex with prostitutes, which I agree with, at least partly. I agree that the Catholic church and the way they taught Stephen about sex (hint: not at all) is one of the pushing factors that sent Stephen spiraling into sin. However, I also wonder what other factors there are to his straying. Specifically, I'm curious as to how much Stephen himself is to blame for wandering into the brothels all the time. If we're to take Stephen's word completely seriously, we could be tempted to say he's not responsible at all, and it was simply human sin that drew him into the neighborhood - fate led him there, lust kept him there. But I think most of us don't take Stephen's word for how everything went down, and that complicates things, because we don't have a purely objective point of view of what happened. So how do we split the blame for Stephen's actions? 75-25, 75 for Stephen? 50-50? 32-68?
On a very related note, we briefly talked about Stephen's objectification of women. We talked about how he has the whore-virgin binary in his mind whenever he's encountered a woman so far. He also seems to only think of women in terms of what they can do for him. Hopefully we can all agree that this is not a good mentality to have. So I ask the same question about his objectification of women: how much is he to blame for his thoughts? Here are the other contenders for blame: the time period, his upbringing away from women, the church, and probably more. The first's reasons are probably obvious - in the time when Joyce is writing and when Stephen is living, it was the norm to objectify women and all that good stuff. His upbringing away from women probably only accentuate that. If he never had the chance to interact with girls until he grew up quite a bit, he wouldn't know how to treat them like normal human beings. So when he gets to interact with girls in his early teen years, it's like an exotic meeting with another species. The church has taught him the whore-virgin dynamic, at least as far as my limited knowledge of the Bible (please correct me if I'm wrong, I don't mean to offend) portrays women either as pious beings of God who can do no wrong or beings of sin. Again, I don't know all that much about Christianity, so if this isn't believable to you, feel free to scratch that off the list and slap me with a rosary or something. Anyways, Stephen has all of these factors in his life that need to be taken into account when thinking about his outlook on women. So where does Stephen himself fit into this mix of factors to blame? I honestly don't have an answer. Again, I don't think Stephen deserves 0% or 100% of the blame, but I have no idea where in between that he does deserve the blame.
In general, this has brought me back to The Stranger from last semester, which brought up the question of judgement and how much we can truly judge each other. And now I'm questioning how much we can truly judge others again and my head is spinning so yeah if you'd like to help a confused little girl comment your thoughts.
For example, in class today Emma brought up how ironic it is that because of the Catholic church, Stephen is pushed to have sex with prostitutes, which I agree with, at least partly. I agree that the Catholic church and the way they taught Stephen about sex (hint: not at all) is one of the pushing factors that sent Stephen spiraling into sin. However, I also wonder what other factors there are to his straying. Specifically, I'm curious as to how much Stephen himself is to blame for wandering into the brothels all the time. If we're to take Stephen's word completely seriously, we could be tempted to say he's not responsible at all, and it was simply human sin that drew him into the neighborhood - fate led him there, lust kept him there. But I think most of us don't take Stephen's word for how everything went down, and that complicates things, because we don't have a purely objective point of view of what happened. So how do we split the blame for Stephen's actions? 75-25, 75 for Stephen? 50-50? 32-68?
On a very related note, we briefly talked about Stephen's objectification of women. We talked about how he has the whore-virgin binary in his mind whenever he's encountered a woman so far. He also seems to only think of women in terms of what they can do for him. Hopefully we can all agree that this is not a good mentality to have. So I ask the same question about his objectification of women: how much is he to blame for his thoughts? Here are the other contenders for blame: the time period, his upbringing away from women, the church, and probably more. The first's reasons are probably obvious - in the time when Joyce is writing and when Stephen is living, it was the norm to objectify women and all that good stuff. His upbringing away from women probably only accentuate that. If he never had the chance to interact with girls until he grew up quite a bit, he wouldn't know how to treat them like normal human beings. So when he gets to interact with girls in his early teen years, it's like an exotic meeting with another species. The church has taught him the whore-virgin dynamic, at least as far as my limited knowledge of the Bible (please correct me if I'm wrong, I don't mean to offend) portrays women either as pious beings of God who can do no wrong or beings of sin. Again, I don't know all that much about Christianity, so if this isn't believable to you, feel free to scratch that off the list and slap me with a rosary or something. Anyways, Stephen has all of these factors in his life that need to be taken into account when thinking about his outlook on women. So where does Stephen himself fit into this mix of factors to blame? I honestly don't have an answer. Again, I don't think Stephen deserves 0% or 100% of the blame, but I have no idea where in between that he does deserve the blame.
In general, this has brought me back to The Stranger from last semester, which brought up the question of judgement and how much we can truly judge each other. And now I'm questioning how much we can truly judge others again and my head is spinning so yeah if you'd like to help a confused little girl comment your thoughts.
Thursday, January 17, 2019
Sympathetic Stephen?
As we near the midpoint (I think) of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, I realize that I've been thinking of Stephen in kind of a harsh way. I've thought of him as kind of this pretentious kid, someone who would fit right in on tumblr with lots of other teenagers who reckon themselves too mature for their age, born in the wrong era, all that good stuff. But I also want to take a step back and really look Stephen in the eye. He is human and only sixteen or so. I think a lot of us have a little arrogance or pride or something of that nature that we tuck into a little corner of our minds and do our best not to show. I think he is at least a little overdramatic, a bit of a drama queen, but we know people who are drama queens who we still enjoy the company of. He seems to be struggling with the financial situation of his family, which he is aware of and affecting his boyhood greatly. One of my friends moved to another state while their brother was in high school, and he was extremely upset by it and, according to my friend, was like a completely different person from the time their parents told them to the time that they moved. I think big events that cause a disruption in people's lives, especially teenagers, are really upsetting and I don't think I personally give Stephen enough credit for the things he's going through.
I was also thinking that Stephen gradually is getting harder and harder for me to sympathize with. When he was at Clongowes, I felt really bad for him for the bullying and just how clueless he seemed of the social dynamics around him. I laughed a little at the dramaticism of the funeral he imagined for himself. I felt bad again as we as readers saw how he was being brushed off by the rector without him realizing. But as he got older, I found it harder to sympathize with him. I thought his biting little sarcastic remarks about Uncle Charles and Simon weren't super cool of him. I thought that his whole "brooding" thing was kind of obnoxious to say the least. But again, I think I have to step back and really take in Stephen's situation, and I have a feeling that as the story progresses, I will have to continue to remind myself to at least try to understand Stephen's viewpoint more, because even though he is growing older and ideally would be getting better, that's not really how life works, and Joyce does an amazing job of portraying this through Stephen. I have realized I not only need to understand and open my eyes to Stephen more, but probably to a lot of people in my life who I don't resonate with or understand very well.
I was also thinking that Stephen gradually is getting harder and harder for me to sympathize with. When he was at Clongowes, I felt really bad for him for the bullying and just how clueless he seemed of the social dynamics around him. I laughed a little at the dramaticism of the funeral he imagined for himself. I felt bad again as we as readers saw how he was being brushed off by the rector without him realizing. But as he got older, I found it harder to sympathize with him. I thought his biting little sarcastic remarks about Uncle Charles and Simon weren't super cool of him. I thought that his whole "brooding" thing was kind of obnoxious to say the least. But again, I think I have to step back and really take in Stephen's situation, and I have a feeling that as the story progresses, I will have to continue to remind myself to at least try to understand Stephen's viewpoint more, because even though he is growing older and ideally would be getting better, that's not really how life works, and Joyce does an amazing job of portraying this through Stephen. I have realized I not only need to understand and open my eyes to Stephen more, but probably to a lot of people in my life who I don't resonate with or understand very well.
Wednesday, January 9, 2019
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