As the semester comes to a close, I feel it necessary to reflect on my work and this final high school English class of coming-of-age novels. I had previously taken all three other classes that Mr. Mitchell teaches so I came into this class with a lot of expectations of my own and suggestions provided to me by former Uni students. I also had the added stress of battling senioritis throughout the end of my senior year but hopefully this didn't affect my perception of the class too drastically.
Ok, to start with the basics, my favorite book was either Portrait or Black Swan Green. The books are very different but I liked the depth and attention to detail in both. I think they gave rise to our best discussions, too. With Portrait, we got to discuss and explore Stephen's complicated and troubled consciousness as he searched for his artistic identity among the intellectual plebeians that surrounded him in the world. It easy was see the carefully calculated symbolism and peripheral narratives that Joyce nurtured in his novel. Black Swan Green, on the other hand, was a little harder to draw the secondary levels out of. The conversational narration, provided by the young Jason Taylor, and trivial activities of a child make Black Swan Green seem far less grand than Portrait. Still, the depth is there, the reader just has to work harder to parse the meaningful from the mundane. Personally, I think books like Black Swan Green are harder to read than obviously "deep" books.
I would say that I didn't exactly have a least favorite book but I was definitely disappointed with our discussions about Housekeeping. We stayed very surface level and were unable to talk about the most interesting parts of the book, namely tone and metaphor.
I also continued to miss panel presentations. I think that they were a good way to get discussion going and stimulate a discussion above what any of our inexperienced minds could think up on our own. These days were also a good break from daily discussion, to throw a curve-ball in there every once in a while.
My two favorite papers were my reflective response to Catcher, which I adapted into a personal story, and my semester project. My least favorite paper was the revision because I had a very hard time adapting my work after I had turned it in.
Looking past this last semester, I have had the privilege of taking all four classes that Mr. Mitchell teaches. I would say that History as Fiction was my favorite of the four. We read the most challenging books, had an awesome class for discussion, and did the most interesting projects. Although this semester was fun, History as Fiction was my favorite Uni class by far.
Thanks everyone for a great semester!
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Images and meaning in the ice cream incident
We started to have an interesting discussion about the motives and meaning behind Benji's destructive act at the end of the "If I Could Pay You Less, I Would" chapter. Personally, I was having difficulties pinpointing an exact motive for Benji's sabotage so I started by trying to identify the results of such an action.
Leaving the freezer doors open during the blackout would allow the hot air into the freezer causing the ice cream to melt. This would make a huge mess for someone to clean up before the shop could function properly again and would be a financial hit for Martine because he would need to buy a new shipment of ice cream. This act could be interpreted as retaliation against the Head Patting Incident, however, Martine has no way of knowing that Benji was the culprit and thus falls flat as a revenge scheme.
Still lacking motive, I moved on to the image Ben creates about how younger Benji thought of the results of his actions. For one, he shows how a small act out leads to graver consequences over time which can be applied to a bigger picture. The open doors lead to the ice cream slowly melting and the cartons crashing to the ground. This could also be a metaphor where Benji's act is an act outside the expectation (stereotype, maybe?) Martine has for him (Benji talks about how trusting Martine is) and the ice cream in the freezer is society's biases that have to be cared for to be maintained. Thus, when Benji acts outside the norm, he tears down the biases imposed on him by society.
In a similar direction, the image portrays Benji in a way, a hard outer shell that keeps two opposites from mixing. His world is about fitting into categories, you have to act black or white. In this scene, he mixes the cold and hot air, which are not supposed to mix. The opposite forces create a hybrid that destroys the ice cream. Keeping the neatly organized freezer as a symbol for socially constructed bias and working on the principle the the hot and cold air represent black and white culture, the implication is that when the two mix, they tear down stereotypes.
However, the result as the carefully separated flavors of ice cream (racial stereotypes) mix is not pretty and uplifting. The final image seems like a perversion of the multiracial mosaic of faces hypothesized by the promoters of the Civil Rights Movement. Instead of a beautiful picture of togetherness and equality, the mixture turns into a massive, useless puddle. Now, I can think of two possible meanings. 1) The nasty puddle is the destruction of stereotypes induced by people affirming their position outside of the norm or 2) it is an omen of cultural homogeneity that comes from "colorblindness". Neither of which provide an inkling as to the motive.
So why does Benji let all the ice cream melt? He just wants to act out. He wants to affect some sort of change and study the reaction. He's just a kid testing boundaries. Young Benji might see some symbolism but not much. Ben, however, clearly presents the metaphor in the child's actions.
Leaving the freezer doors open during the blackout would allow the hot air into the freezer causing the ice cream to melt. This would make a huge mess for someone to clean up before the shop could function properly again and would be a financial hit for Martine because he would need to buy a new shipment of ice cream. This act could be interpreted as retaliation against the Head Patting Incident, however, Martine has no way of knowing that Benji was the culprit and thus falls flat as a revenge scheme.
Still lacking motive, I moved on to the image Ben creates about how younger Benji thought of the results of his actions. For one, he shows how a small act out leads to graver consequences over time which can be applied to a bigger picture. The open doors lead to the ice cream slowly melting and the cartons crashing to the ground. This could also be a metaphor where Benji's act is an act outside the expectation (stereotype, maybe?) Martine has for him (Benji talks about how trusting Martine is) and the ice cream in the freezer is society's biases that have to be cared for to be maintained. Thus, when Benji acts outside the norm, he tears down the biases imposed on him by society.
In a similar direction, the image portrays Benji in a way, a hard outer shell that keeps two opposites from mixing. His world is about fitting into categories, you have to act black or white. In this scene, he mixes the cold and hot air, which are not supposed to mix. The opposite forces create a hybrid that destroys the ice cream. Keeping the neatly organized freezer as a symbol for socially constructed bias and working on the principle the the hot and cold air represent black and white culture, the implication is that when the two mix, they tear down stereotypes.
However, the result as the carefully separated flavors of ice cream (racial stereotypes) mix is not pretty and uplifting. The final image seems like a perversion of the multiracial mosaic of faces hypothesized by the promoters of the Civil Rights Movement. Instead of a beautiful picture of togetherness and equality, the mixture turns into a massive, useless puddle. Now, I can think of two possible meanings. 1) The nasty puddle is the destruction of stereotypes induced by people affirming their position outside of the norm or 2) it is an omen of cultural homogeneity that comes from "colorblindness". Neither of which provide an inkling as to the motive.
So why does Benji let all the ice cream melt? He just wants to act out. He wants to affect some sort of change and study the reaction. He's just a kid testing boundaries. Young Benji might see some symbolism but not much. Ben, however, clearly presents the metaphor in the child's actions.
My summers
Like Benji, I definitely see Summers as a time of growing and change. You get away from the routines and schedules that lock you into one persona during the year and have a chance to explore. You're also separated from those you see everyday in school and are able to make new connections and pass off any major changes you make as a Summer induced process, rather than a conscious change. My summers are full of traditions that help me break up the monotony of school and explore my identity in other contexts.
Summer always starts with a family trip to Kiawah Island off the coast of South Carolina. We've gone for many years and thus witnessed a period of extensive growth and development on the island as more and more tourists find out about the previously hidden gem. Every year I see the same families that go out during the same week every summer. I still do some of the same activities as I did when I was seven but mostly I've made the transition from having a lot of scheduled activities when I was young to having tons of free time now. Joey has also been an addition to my family's Kiawah party.
I also attend Illinois Summer Youth Music camp for their musical theater and choral programs. Here I explore my more outgoing side, struggling to keep up with the raucous theater kids. The social hierarchy at a theater camp is extremely different, as is the vernacular, and social customs. Every year I try to adequately prepare myself and every year I experience a sort of culture shock, induced by the yelling, extreme cussing, mean humor, and touching. The kids are far more confident and outgoing than anyone I had met previously and the environment at ISYM helped me discover a very different part of myself than who I am at school (although the two become more incorporated every year).
Another summer tradition is Camp Tecumseh. It's sort of like 4-H camp, but way better. I can't even explain what it's like to there. It feels like another world. Again, I must suffer through the initial culture shock of camp as my peers excitedly volunteer to get the food for our table and saying prayers before meals. For a week or two, I am truly third and I work to develop my spiritual side in a way that is nearly impossible at home.
Both these camps give me the opportunity to be different that I am at school and they were definitely integral in establishing the self-confidence I now possess. They have taught me to work with people from different backgrounds. The first time someone asked me to define a word I used at Camp T, I thought they were making fun of me and I had used the word wrong. Actually, they just wanted to know. They said that they didn't know all the words I had been using so they finally decided to ask. They next time someone asked me, I was just ready with the answer.
Camp friends are also super important. There are different tiers of camp friends. The lowest is people you sit with at lunch once because you had nowhere else to go. You feel comfortable enough to invite yourself to sit with them but you only have superficial, fake-smiling conversation over the meal. The next level is your besties at camp but you have nothing besides camp to talk about and therefore your friendship dies at closing ceremonies. You may attempt contact later but it is futile. The line between the top two levels is very slight: there are the camp friends you maintain contact with after camp and stay close and the camp friends were you drop your camp persona when you're with them. I have all of the above. I would say that they are all important, especially at Uni, where we need to branch out and meet other people.
During the summer, I also have assorted trips to spas or see relatives and of course I hang out with school friends. I get to ride my horse a lot, which is fun and I practice my instruments more than I can in the school year. I always make a lot of memories in the summer and I am SO PUMPED to start this summer a few days from now. :D
Summer always starts with a family trip to Kiawah Island off the coast of South Carolina. We've gone for many years and thus witnessed a period of extensive growth and development on the island as more and more tourists find out about the previously hidden gem. Every year I see the same families that go out during the same week every summer. I still do some of the same activities as I did when I was seven but mostly I've made the transition from having a lot of scheduled activities when I was young to having tons of free time now. Joey has also been an addition to my family's Kiawah party.
I also attend Illinois Summer Youth Music camp for their musical theater and choral programs. Here I explore my more outgoing side, struggling to keep up with the raucous theater kids. The social hierarchy at a theater camp is extremely different, as is the vernacular, and social customs. Every year I try to adequately prepare myself and every year I experience a sort of culture shock, induced by the yelling, extreme cussing, mean humor, and touching. The kids are far more confident and outgoing than anyone I had met previously and the environment at ISYM helped me discover a very different part of myself than who I am at school (although the two become more incorporated every year).
Another summer tradition is Camp Tecumseh. It's sort of like 4-H camp, but way better. I can't even explain what it's like to there. It feels like another world. Again, I must suffer through the initial culture shock of camp as my peers excitedly volunteer to get the food for our table and saying prayers before meals. For a week or two, I am truly third and I work to develop my spiritual side in a way that is nearly impossible at home.
Both these camps give me the opportunity to be different that I am at school and they were definitely integral in establishing the self-confidence I now possess. They have taught me to work with people from different backgrounds. The first time someone asked me to define a word I used at Camp T, I thought they were making fun of me and I had used the word wrong. Actually, they just wanted to know. They said that they didn't know all the words I had been using so they finally decided to ask. They next time someone asked me, I was just ready with the answer.
Camp friends are also super important. There are different tiers of camp friends. The lowest is people you sit with at lunch once because you had nowhere else to go. You feel comfortable enough to invite yourself to sit with them but you only have superficial, fake-smiling conversation over the meal. The next level is your besties at camp but you have nothing besides camp to talk about and therefore your friendship dies at closing ceremonies. You may attempt contact later but it is futile. The line between the top two levels is very slight: there are the camp friends you maintain contact with after camp and stay close and the camp friends were you drop your camp persona when you're with them. I have all of the above. I would say that they are all important, especially at Uni, where we need to branch out and meet other people.
During the summer, I also have assorted trips to spas or see relatives and of course I hang out with school friends. I get to ride my horse a lot, which is fun and I practice my instruments more than I can in the school year. I always make a lot of memories in the summer and I am SO PUMPED to start this summer a few days from now. :D
Friday, April 19, 2013
"Spring Awakening"
I recently went to the musical Spring Awakening at Krannert. It is a contemporary, rock musical set in Germany in the late 1800s. It is the story of a bunch of teenagers on the brink of adulthood and how they handle the transition. IT's a story of physical abuse, sexual abuse, love, sexuality, school, and death. Much like White Boy Shuffle, it starts out funny, and gets really dark but ultimately has a deep message to take away. The main theme of the show is the danger of ignorance embodied by a class of adults unwilling to spoil their children's innocence.
The show has two central plots and then a bunch of side stories. I'll start with the detours. One includes two boys who discover that while all the other boys fantasize about the mysterious opposite sex, they have feelings for the much more accessible boys. They have to figure out how to tell their crush and live with their different perspective. Even though they end up connecting, they struggle to figure out what to do with their feelings because being gay is nowhere near being on their radar they don't even know it is an option. Another story is that a girl was forced to leave the village in the play when she got pregnant. She joined a gypsy camp, out of fear and rebellion, but soon enough she wanted to come home and have a family. She couldn't though, too much shame. The other significant plots involve physical and sexual abuse of the girls in the show by their fathers.
The central plots involve the three main characters, Wendla Bergmann, Melchior Gabor, and Moritz Stiefel.
Moritz isn't a good student. He's barely getting by and unable to focus due to his mind lusting for things he knows nothing about. Melchior Gabor comes to the rescue. Melchior is a radical free-thinker. He's a star pupil yet a bother to his teachers who don't want his opinion but just for him to regurgitate their ideas. Melchior realizes the confines of what adults will tell him and looks elsewhere for answers. When Moritz asks him for help Melchior tells him all the things he's found out. Moritz is horrified.
Wendla Bergmann is obedient and kind but she wants to know more and her parents won't tell her --not even about how her sister got pregnant. She, Melchior, and Moritz were childhood friends but once they became teenagers and the boys were separated from the girls, they grew apart. Her world is so full of things she doesn't understand until she reconnects with Melchior. She's walking alone outside her village when she sees Melchior under a tree. Not unpredictably, they fall in love and Melchior has an internal battle about whether or not he can burden her with his knowledge. He thought knowing things would make him freer but it also alienates him from his peers.
Meanwhile, Moritz finds out that he has BARELY passed his classes by sneaking into the administrative office and looking at his grades. So he's happy that he's not going to fail out of school and Wendla and Melchior are happy because they actually feel something deep enough to affect them. The act is almost over so things have to start getting dark. After Wendla finds out that her friend is beaten with a belt, she talks to Melchior and tells him she's never felt pain. She rips a switch from a tree and demands he beat her. It's a really horrifying scene to watch but it yanks emotion from both parties and they part full of rage and fear. The story continues to darken when Moritz's teachers fail him, even though he has actually passed, because they feel he is a disgrace. Moritz must return home to tell his father the news.
The act ends with Wendla and Melchior is a hayloft together, Wendla trying to make amends. They kiss and Melchior begins to undress them both. Wendla protests and protests but slowly allows Melchior to go farther and farther. It is hard to tell whether Melchior overpowers Wendla, Wendla consents to his advances, or if she even understands what is happening. In the midst of this scene, the curtain falls.
Act two.
Moritz has been thrown out of his house and after failing to accrue enough wealth to flee to America, is wandering around the streets with a gun, planning to end his life. After an interaction with a childhood friend, he can stand life no matter and kills himself. During an inquiry into his death by school officials, an essay about sex written by Melchior and given to Moritz is found and Melchior is expelled and sent to reform school out of town.
With Melchior gone, it appears that Wendla becomes chronically ill until a doctor tells her mother she is pregnant. After her mother screams at her, Wendla figures out the connection between the hayloft and the baby and writes Melchior a letter. Her mother secretly finds a "doctor" willing to abort the child. When Melchior receives the letter, he escapes boarding school and races to get home to Wendla to marry her. However, shortly after Wendla's doctor's appointment, her mother takes her to the "doctor" who is going to get rid of the child quietly, Wendla completely unaware of the consequences.
After a grueling trip. Melchior returns home in search of Wendla and goes to their meeting place in the cemetery, Moritz's grave. Next to his best friends grave is a fresh plot. He wipes the leaves and dirt off the gravestones and reads the name "Wendla Bergmann". He pulls out a razor from his pocket and holds it to his throat, dreaming of his two friends and the life they could have had. Before he can commit to killing himself, visions of Wendla and Moritz come to him and tell him to continue and help them live on into adulthood and never let their stories be forgotten. He eventually decides to continue on and live his life with them in mind.
It's definitely a harrowing show but I thought the themes are very relevant to our class this semester.
The show has two central plots and then a bunch of side stories. I'll start with the detours. One includes two boys who discover that while all the other boys fantasize about the mysterious opposite sex, they have feelings for the much more accessible boys. They have to figure out how to tell their crush and live with their different perspective. Even though they end up connecting, they struggle to figure out what to do with their feelings because being gay is nowhere near being on their radar they don't even know it is an option. Another story is that a girl was forced to leave the village in the play when she got pregnant. She joined a gypsy camp, out of fear and rebellion, but soon enough she wanted to come home and have a family. She couldn't though, too much shame. The other significant plots involve physical and sexual abuse of the girls in the show by their fathers.
The central plots involve the three main characters, Wendla Bergmann, Melchior Gabor, and Moritz Stiefel.
Moritz isn't a good student. He's barely getting by and unable to focus due to his mind lusting for things he knows nothing about. Melchior Gabor comes to the rescue. Melchior is a radical free-thinker. He's a star pupil yet a bother to his teachers who don't want his opinion but just for him to regurgitate their ideas. Melchior realizes the confines of what adults will tell him and looks elsewhere for answers. When Moritz asks him for help Melchior tells him all the things he's found out. Moritz is horrified.
Wendla Bergmann is obedient and kind but she wants to know more and her parents won't tell her --not even about how her sister got pregnant. She, Melchior, and Moritz were childhood friends but once they became teenagers and the boys were separated from the girls, they grew apart. Her world is so full of things she doesn't understand until she reconnects with Melchior. She's walking alone outside her village when she sees Melchior under a tree. Not unpredictably, they fall in love and Melchior has an internal battle about whether or not he can burden her with his knowledge. He thought knowing things would make him freer but it also alienates him from his peers.
Meanwhile, Moritz finds out that he has BARELY passed his classes by sneaking into the administrative office and looking at his grades. So he's happy that he's not going to fail out of school and Wendla and Melchior are happy because they actually feel something deep enough to affect them. The act is almost over so things have to start getting dark. After Wendla finds out that her friend is beaten with a belt, she talks to Melchior and tells him she's never felt pain. She rips a switch from a tree and demands he beat her. It's a really horrifying scene to watch but it yanks emotion from both parties and they part full of rage and fear. The story continues to darken when Moritz's teachers fail him, even though he has actually passed, because they feel he is a disgrace. Moritz must return home to tell his father the news.
The act ends with Wendla and Melchior is a hayloft together, Wendla trying to make amends. They kiss and Melchior begins to undress them both. Wendla protests and protests but slowly allows Melchior to go farther and farther. It is hard to tell whether Melchior overpowers Wendla, Wendla consents to his advances, or if she even understands what is happening. In the midst of this scene, the curtain falls.
Act two.
Moritz has been thrown out of his house and after failing to accrue enough wealth to flee to America, is wandering around the streets with a gun, planning to end his life. After an interaction with a childhood friend, he can stand life no matter and kills himself. During an inquiry into his death by school officials, an essay about sex written by Melchior and given to Moritz is found and Melchior is expelled and sent to reform school out of town.
With Melchior gone, it appears that Wendla becomes chronically ill until a doctor tells her mother she is pregnant. After her mother screams at her, Wendla figures out the connection between the hayloft and the baby and writes Melchior a letter. Her mother secretly finds a "doctor" willing to abort the child. When Melchior receives the letter, he escapes boarding school and races to get home to Wendla to marry her. However, shortly after Wendla's doctor's appointment, her mother takes her to the "doctor" who is going to get rid of the child quietly, Wendla completely unaware of the consequences.
After a grueling trip. Melchior returns home in search of Wendla and goes to their meeting place in the cemetery, Moritz's grave. Next to his best friends grave is a fresh plot. He wipes the leaves and dirt off the gravestones and reads the name "Wendla Bergmann". He pulls out a razor from his pocket and holds it to his throat, dreaming of his two friends and the life they could have had. Before he can commit to killing himself, visions of Wendla and Moritz come to him and tell him to continue and help them live on into adulthood and never let their stories be forgotten. He eventually decides to continue on and live his life with them in mind.
It's definitely a harrowing show but I thought the themes are very relevant to our class this semester.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
"A poem exists before it is written"
Madame Crommelynck invites Jason to her house to talk about Eliot Bolivar's poetry. In their discussions, they stumble across the definition of beauty and the inception of a poem. Basically, what Crommelynck is saying is that a creation doesn't really count as beautiful if it is made from pretty ingredients. The pretty ingredients trick a casual observer into seeing beauty that is really just a superficial facade. True beauty exists where words fail to exist. Something that is purely beautiful fills in a sentiment or expression that isn't articulate-able.
For me, this is especially true in music, particularly music without words. I find that words often become too cumbersome to express precise things. Also, a lot of the time, words just make music less international and meanings are lost in translation. For the most part, words tend to be the cosmetics used to dress up the music. Really good lyrics add to music in a way that doesn't compromise the independence of the piece but are hard to come by. Words are far more tolerable in poetry written by good poets because poets have no tune to hide behind; they are forced to make a tune with pitchless syllables. Anyway, inspiring music leaves a some sort of paradoxical void full of something that you can't really describe and that thing you can't describe is exactly what Madame Crommelynck is talking about. Words fail but the feeling still exists and a the opus becomes the definition.
I think that the progression of classical musical periods shows this well. Each period is a reaction to the period before. It's sort of like rebellion, yet a bit like an homage, and the contemporary periods always build off the one before. It's hard to express exactly how and why composers choose to do what they do but the music speaks for itself as composers add allusions to their mentors and foreshadow to future themes. Good music both becomes timeless and marks a period of time that is embodied in no other way.
As for the existence of poetry before the pen actually touches the paper, I have to say I am intrigued. I am, by no stretch of the imagination, a poet. It'd be cool to have poems descend on me, but for the most part, they steer clear of me. However, I do write a lot of vignettes. They aren't consolidated in any way because I don't really plan them out but they usually just take shape. Initially, I thought I could make the picture in my mind and then save it for later to record but after many lost scenes I just take a second to write them down in the moment. They are something that exists before, in my previous experience or observation, and I have been mulling over in the back of my mind but they don't take shape until I stumble across a context that embodies them.
For me, this is especially true in music, particularly music without words. I find that words often become too cumbersome to express precise things. Also, a lot of the time, words just make music less international and meanings are lost in translation. For the most part, words tend to be the cosmetics used to dress up the music. Really good lyrics add to music in a way that doesn't compromise the independence of the piece but are hard to come by. Words are far more tolerable in poetry written by good poets because poets have no tune to hide behind; they are forced to make a tune with pitchless syllables. Anyway, inspiring music leaves a some sort of paradoxical void full of something that you can't really describe and that thing you can't describe is exactly what Madame Crommelynck is talking about. Words fail but the feeling still exists and a the opus becomes the definition.
I think that the progression of classical musical periods shows this well. Each period is a reaction to the period before. It's sort of like rebellion, yet a bit like an homage, and the contemporary periods always build off the one before. It's hard to express exactly how and why composers choose to do what they do but the music speaks for itself as composers add allusions to their mentors and foreshadow to future themes. Good music both becomes timeless and marks a period of time that is embodied in no other way.
As for the existence of poetry before the pen actually touches the paper, I have to say I am intrigued. I am, by no stretch of the imagination, a poet. It'd be cool to have poems descend on me, but for the most part, they steer clear of me. However, I do write a lot of vignettes. They aren't consolidated in any way because I don't really plan them out but they usually just take shape. Initially, I thought I could make the picture in my mind and then save it for later to record but after many lost scenes I just take a second to write them down in the moment. They are something that exists before, in my previous experience or observation, and I have been mulling over in the back of my mind but they don't take shape until I stumble across a context that embodies them.
Waiting
On page 166 of Marilynne Robinson's Housekeeping, Ruth says, "I hated waiting. If I had one particular complaint, it was that my life seemed composed entirely of expectation."
This quote definitely resonates with me, as a senior, quickly approaching graduation. I literally don't know where I will be next year and this definitely made me think about how shortsighted teenagers are. Applying for college is like 30% work 70% waiting. First, you wait for common app to open. Then, you wait for the supplements. Then, you wait for the deadlines. Then to do the FAFSA and then acceptances, then aid packages and then May 1. But even after you wait all summer to finally go to college, you're still only in a holding period. College passes quickly and you still haven't found a stable position.
Sometimes the lack of stability annoys me and I just want to fast forward to where I go to the same job everyday and come home to the same people in the same house. The waiting is a little anxious. At times, I just want to know how everything is going to turn out. At this point, things that seem like a big deal will end up having no effect on my life and it's hard to gauge which decisions I make now will have a lasting effect. With all this waiting for all of the work to pay off, it's easy to idealize the stability of adult life.
On the other hand, adult life could seem boringly stagnate. Being with the same people and doing the same work everyday could be just as uncomfortable as not knowing where you'll be in a few months. Stability can be seen as a comfort or a cage.
Maybe this is why Sylvie acts so childishly. She prefers the inconsistency of youth to the constancy of adulthood.
This quote definitely resonates with me, as a senior, quickly approaching graduation. I literally don't know where I will be next year and this definitely made me think about how shortsighted teenagers are. Applying for college is like 30% work 70% waiting. First, you wait for common app to open. Then, you wait for the supplements. Then, you wait for the deadlines. Then to do the FAFSA and then acceptances, then aid packages and then May 1. But even after you wait all summer to finally go to college, you're still only in a holding period. College passes quickly and you still haven't found a stable position.
Sometimes the lack of stability annoys me and I just want to fast forward to where I go to the same job everyday and come home to the same people in the same house. The waiting is a little anxious. At times, I just want to know how everything is going to turn out. At this point, things that seem like a big deal will end up having no effect on my life and it's hard to gauge which decisions I make now will have a lasting effect. With all this waiting for all of the work to pay off, it's easy to idealize the stability of adult life.
On the other hand, adult life could seem boringly stagnate. Being with the same people and doing the same work everyday could be just as uncomfortable as not knowing where you'll be in a few months. Stability can be seen as a comfort or a cage.
Maybe this is why Sylvie acts so childishly. She prefers the inconsistency of youth to the constancy of adulthood.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Closing thoughts on The Bell Jar
Overall, I really enjoyed Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. I just have a few closing points I would like to touch on:
- I thought that our class discussion on the relevance of the title of the book was quite illuminating. The metaphor of Esther's illness being a bell jar is quite apt and precise. For one, she becomes a subject of study due to her illness and unable to hide and is comparable to a specimen under observation in a bell jar. Second, like a bell jar traps what ever is underneath it, Esther's condition traps her in asylums and even inside her own head. Furthermore, she is isolated from others by circumstances that are hard to understand for her loved ones. The glass of a bell jar indisputably exists, however it's transparent so not really distinct for observers like Esther's illness. The part of this metaphor I did not think of was the effect on Esther's perception under the bell jar. The jar distorts her vision and changes the way she sees the world around her. This information is crucial for understanding Plath's narrative voice and Esther's portrayals of the people around her. It nuances so many of the topics we've discussed in class.
- I'm extremely interested to read the note at the end of book for Friday. Unfortunately, I will not be in class on Friday because of a college visit so I will not get to weigh in with the context it provides.
- There aren't that many central male characters in The Bell Jar. The most important men seem to be Buddy Willard and Doctor Gordon, both being representatives of males and medical professionals. Esther is not very nice about either. In fact, I think she says that she hates them both. Esther's intense reservations about men also tie into her reservations about marriage. However, Esther's ideas about medical professionals seem to change with her bond to Doctor Nolan. Unfortunately for guys, this probably just makes her more sure that men are generally pretty bad. It's interesting that despite Esther's concerns about men, marriage, and the expectations of heterosexual relationships, that she reacts so strongly against Joan's proposed homosexuality. Maybe this shows that some social customs still strongly influence Esther...?
- I think that expectations are very central to this novel. It seems that Esther lives for her expectations and they push her in so many directions that she eventually is driven mad by them. The first asylum setting puts a whole new set of expectations onto her. She is supposed to be crazy and badly behaved so she is. Then, she is moved to Doctor Nolan's care and things change. I would say that this is largely tied into the fact that Nolan doesn't seem to have many expectations that she is always throwing at Esther. She merely observes and lets Esther live as she likes. I think that Esther is so reluctant to move up in treatment because she is afraid of the new expectations in the new house. She will have a score of new privileges and Esther isn't eager to cope with the responsibility tied to the privileges. Maybe Esther realizes that the people in the next house are also sane enough to judge and this scares her as well. Other expectations that bother her are kind of a chain: that she will get married--> serve her husband--> give up her career and poetry--> have children--> care for the children --> continue to cook, clean, and serve for the rest of her life. She finds these expectations limiting. I guess you could say that they put her in a bell jar, just like illness, in a way.
- It's amazing how aware Esther always is about her social status. Maybe most of this lucidity can be attributed to the fact that she's writing this novel in retrospect, rather than in the moment. However, I find it intriguing that she continually asses what others think of her. Two striking examples are when she decides not to mope when she moves to the house where Joan is because she doesn't want to give the other tenants the satisfaction and when she doesn't want Irwin to drive her back to the asylum.
- I find a compelling case to argue that Esther's condition is a regressive condition rather than her just spinning wildly out of control. First, it seems to be triggered by her conversations with her boss in New York and her not getting into the summer writing course. These two events stop the forward progress of her life but her fixation on social expectations keeps her on the tracks, so to speak. She simply retreats from the failure. Egocentricity in the form of paranoia, crawling about on the floor/not being allowed out of bed, being constantly cared for, Doctor Nolan as a new mother figure, living at home, etc support a case for regression. Then, as Esther improves, she loses her virginity, the quintessential coming of age/loss of innocence moment and begins again to progress in life.
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