Muted Lenses

The two readings I enjoyed most from the Essay Packet this week are: "Mute Dancers: How to Watch a Hummingbird" and "Lenses".  Both reflect on death in small things that can symbolize the death of people and the transitory nature of life in general. This can be seen in the first sentence of "Mute Dancers" as it states, "A lot of hummingbirds die in their sleep." It goes on to say that a hummingbird's life is a series of vigorous work throughout the day and a zombie-like sleep during the night. They have to fight to wake up in order to live another day. The author admires them for their speed, their steadfastness, their ability to communicate non-verbally. Their beauty has purpose, but to those who observe it, their beauty is like a miracle meant to be admired. Likewise, a human's life is short and fast. We must pull ourselves out of bed every day to carry on with a new day, no matter the hardships involved. Our lives are beautiful. There is probably purpose in what we do, but we do not have to focus so much on the purpose to admire the beauty.

"Lenses" uses two living organisms as an example of sic transit gloria mundi. Both are viewed through lenses: one through a microscope and the other through binoculars. The first are algae, which she would repetitively watch die by the heat of the lamp. She then looked at swans through the lens of the binoculars. Although the death of the swans are much slower than that of the creatures in the microscope, she knows that they are dying just as the tiny creatures in her lab. While looking through these lenses, she is holding up a lens to her own life and mortality.

These two stories weave nicely together, as they both try to reap the beauty of life. To do so means to live in the moment, to embrace every living thing around you and to enjoy what you do. Sometimes we can discover things about ourselves just by bird-watching. When we see a hummingbird or swan fly, we can share in their freedom, knowing that we share this living world together, part of the same universe where things live for a time and then die. It's best to enjoy it while we are still here.

Krik? Krak!

Intrigued by the title of this story, I looked up the meaning after reading it. According to the publisher of this novel, it means "When Haitians tell a story, they say 'Krik?' and the eager listeners answer 'Krak!'". After learning this, I now have the setting in my mind and can reread the text with a better understanding of the culture.

The content of the story is very interesting. "I cringe from the heat of the night on my face." This first sentence sets up the mood and the woman's attitude towards the night. She "cringes", indicating that she dislikes it. This is reaffirmed a few sentences later as she thinks, "The night is the time I dread most in my life." This puts an emphasis on her feelings of the night. The rest of short story shows why she feels this way.

The woman is a prostitute who shares a "one-room house" with her young child. Of course she feels shame in what she does and only wishes to support her son and help him to grow into a fine young man. The language and imagery used makes the story unique and compelling. Although he has the innocent traits of an average young man, he is viewed from a prostitute's point of view- even though she is his mother, even his smallest movements are made sexual. This can be seen in the following passages: "In the morning, he will have tiny blood spots on his forehead, as though he had spent the whole night kissing a woman", "In his sleep he squirms and groans as though he's already discovered that there is pleasure in touching himself", "my lips stroking his cheek", "we are like faraway lovers", "sometimes his tongue slips out of his mouth and he licks my fingernail. He moans and turns away...", "I blow on his long eyelashes", "He licks his lips". I think you get the jist. There is some serious Oedipus Rex stuff going on here. 

I think one of the themes of the story is touch and comfort. The touch between mother and son, and the touch between the lady of the night with men. The touch between mother and son isn't meant to be sexual, but a relationship builder between the two, since they only have each other. She comforts the boy with her hands and lips as he dreams while telling him stories of stars and angels. This takes him away from the real world, away from the world where his mother is doing her work on the other side of the room.

What hides behind a blackened eye?

Usually I like to include some kind of funny .gif or image in my posts, but considering the level of heaviness contained within our reading, I think it's best to go without humor this week. There is nothing light-hearted about abduction, rape, torture or murder. That's probably why so many people opt out of any conversations that include it. It's a difficult subject to talk and think about because it points to the dark side of human nature that is far beyond the line that many would think impossible to cross. To acknowledge that a fellow human being is capable of such heinous crimes takes away a part of our security and peace of mind. This is also why some people choose to ignore it when it is right in front of them. This is what Oates addresses in her work, "The Girl With the Blackened Eye".

Oates' story is a survivor discourse told by a narrator who endured a life-altering trauma. After experiencing such trauma, victims usually have gaps in their memories after repressing unpleasant moments. They experience fragmented memories that might not make sense out of context. The narrator also seems unsure about certain events, like when she wasn't sure who she was: "Weird how your mind works: I was thinking I was that woman, in the front seat wrapped in the blanket, so the rest of it had not yet happened." pg. 206. This shows the state of her psyche at that moment. Was it from the torture or from being malnourished? This confusion can also be seen in her future self in the second paragraph when she says, "Sometimes now I see myself in a mirror, like in the middle of the night getting up to use the bathroom, I see a blurred face, a woman's face I don't recognize. And I see that eye." We can see that this event changed her, in a physical way (which was temporary), and a mental way (which is still with her many years later, and probably for the rest of her life). 

The black eye is symbolic for the damage she received after the eight days with the unnamed abductor. It was ignored by people. At first it was a physical mark that people ignored. Eventually it faded, but it seemed a black eye developed within her, that people are just as ignorant about. Only she can see it as she looks in a mirror. She hides it so that she doesn't have to wonder what people think when they look at her. The girl that she was when she was tortured is still within her, suffering inside the cabin of isolation that is absent of time and thoughts.

The author uses detail to evoke emotion and understanding of the ordeal. One example of this is the motif of the man's rings. By bringing up the rings several times throughout the reading, this shows that the girl looked at his hands a lot. She did this because they were the objects attached to the things that grabbed her, inflicted pain on her, and ironically, nourished her with chicken. She even refers to him as "The man with the rings on his fingers" (203). She uses this also to show the fear the narrator had in looking at his face. She would rather look at his hands then into his eyes, where she would get a good description of him, possibly leading to her death. It was survival and terror, which same a central theme in the story.

Today is August 23, 1983.

Fiction packet 3 probably should have been called Death Fiction 3.0. Actually, this .gif could very well replace most of the text and relay the same message.

(Just kidding, the text is much deeper. Also, the death motif isn't so much in the first story which has something to do with...brothers and burning fish? Still working on understanding that one. I think it has something to do with perception and metaphysics/reality/etc. Or maybe it is about death...)

Anyway, I decided to focus on the short story, "August 23, 1983" by Jorge Lois Borges. Talk about perception, metaphysics, reality, and death. Oh boy, this story was filled with all kinds of philosophical goodies. Not only does the author put himself in the story as the narrator, but as a character outside of himself. This brings a new meaning to man vs. self and man vs. man.

The interaction between the two shows a sort of introspection for Borges as he explores what his meaning in life is and if it is worth living. While the older Borges says to live on to the younger, he indeed intends to kill himself. While this would seem like a contradiction, the older reassures himself with prophecy that he will fulfill many more things- that life is worth living a little bit more, not because he will be successful, but because he will try to succeed something great. Ultimately, he seems to be just delaying the inevitable, but the younger Borges learns from this experience. He says, "I won't forget it and tomorrow I'll write it down", referring to the dream. The last sentence is, "Outside were other dreams, waiting for me." This shows that he lives to dream and to write about them. As long as they are waiting for him, he has purpose. The older Borges seemed to be out of dreams, as he attempted his masterpiece and failed and had no further to go.

The dream setting makes us question the reality of what we're reading. Is it truly a prophecy for the writer or a divine vision to stop him from killing himself? Is the older dreaming of the younger, reminiscing of times past? Is there some kind of supernatural visitation; time travel through dreams? By making the setting so questionable and transitory, Borges is reflecting this into our own world, making us question the validity of our lives as we think about our mortality.

The Burro Way

I have to admit....there was a lot of reading for this week. Halfway through I found myself doing this to let my eyeballs take a break:

  

Then when it came time to write something down, I found myself doing this:

 

Needless, to say, my mind is ready for Spring Break. BUT since school is still session, I best get my writing cap on and get to work. There is a lot I got out of the Janet Burroway's readings. Writer's block is nothing new for me. I thought Burroway had an interesting way of explaining why these things happen. According to her, either 1) the piece has a hairline fracture, or 2) the book will explode if you continue. (pg. 23)

The way she talks about the latter is almost like an act of Wyrd. Fate says no, shuts the brain down and aborts whatever you had in mind to create. I never really thought of it that way. Maybe it was my destiny to write this and that. I'll have to keep this in mind when I'm banging my head against my desk, trying to slam the words out onto the page. "Calm down and try something different. You don't want this book to explode, do you?"

Another thing, mentioned on the previous page is Burroway's advice to revise. The example she uses of the aspiring photographer is very relatable to me. When someone tells me to revise a piece that I have worked very hard on, I sometimes get distraught. I climbed my mountain to take this picture and want others to see the value of my struggle to get it, even if it isn't perfect. But Burroway encourages me. Every artist has to go through it, leaving behind the bareness of the rough draft and revise, reshape, and re-imagine something better for a story. She writes, "In those early pages and chapters anyone may find bold leaps to nowhere, read the brave beginnings of dropped themes, hear a tone since abandoned, discover blind alleys, track red herrings, and laboriously learn a setting now false." Hard truths to admit, but in order to go to the next level of writing, I have to accept this and move on.

In the chapter on "The Active Voice" on page 64, she also teaches me the importance of using active verbs vs. passive verbs. I've never really paid too much attention to these things but after reading through her examples, I see the importance of paying attention to diction while writing. "Be aware of the of the vigor and variety of available verbs." (Nice alliteration, Burroway!) Using linking verbs like, "was" and "just" make a story bump along rather than flow smoothly.

Alright, that's all for now. Peace, love, and a happy white dove,

~Michelle

Goldberg Variations

No, this post has nothing to do with Bach. Though the subject is on the same creative level as composing music. In the book, Writing Down the Bones, Zen Master writer, Natalie Goldberg, walks both amateur and aged writer through the process of...well, writing down the bones. Which is to say, putting every inch of ones' self into writing.

In the second part of this book, many things stuck out to me. One of which being the section on Obsessions. I can relate completely with being obsessed with writing. There was a solid three months last year when every day a friend and I would go back and forth, writing a story. We would post a response to the previous chapter and just build and build. I usually replied in the morning and she replied at night. I wouldn't be able to sleep until she wrote back. After reading her chapter, I would lay in bed, planning the chapter that I would write in the morning with anticipation. My heart would beat and sometimes I wouldn't be able to fall asleep unless I wrote down some nice sentences I had thought out, in fear of forgetting them overnight. If, for some reason, I wasn't able to write out my chapter in the morning, I would pine all day until I was able to get home and get the story out of my head and into word. I was obsessed. Going back and re-reading the pages of intricate little plots and funny one-liners made me fill accomplished and proud. I felt like I was doing what I was meant to do. I understand what Goldberg meant when she wrote, "There is freedom in being a writer and writing. It is fulfilling your function." pg. 70

On page 81, Goldberg quotes Katagiri Roshi. "Literature will tell you what life is, but it won't tell you how to get out of it." I really like this quote. It is enveloped nicely between paragraphs stating the importance of detail. As writers what we reveal truths about the world using detailed accuracy. We are like a mirror. But when a person looks into a mirror and sees something, the mirror can do nothing to change the appearance of the person that looks into it. If he or she does not like what they are seeing, then they have to actively change it by stepping away from the mirror and acting. If hair is messy, it can be easily brushed. Things like being overweight is slightly harder and takes time and effort to change. In the same way, reading can tell us truths about the world, things that we don't like, but it is up to us to take action. The reader can learn from books, but we must act upon it if we truly want to learn.

Other things Goldberg taught me:
~Writing is listening
~Learn specific names of flowers, animals, and basically everything (even that rock!)
~Everything is both ordinary and extraordinary
 ~Indefinite modifiers= a big no-no. Points to doubt in writing.
~"And what great writers actually pass on is not so much their words, but they hand on their breath at their moments of inspiration."
~I want to do a snake dance!
~Show, Don't Tell
~It's okay to be weird

In conclusion, here's a clip from Silence of the Lambs that features The Goldberg Variations.

The Tocqueville Perspective

The poem, "Tocqueville", contained within the book with the same title, has many difficult and heavy themes that most people don't tend to talk about. The topics make us feel uncomfortable, disheartened, or just angry at our society as it reflects all of the wretched things that oppress us. As a nation, we like to think of ourselves as one united body held by the values of liberty, equality, and freedom. When we read this poem, it is an introspection of who we are as "The United States" and how our values are sometimes compromised in the midst of a power struggle with our leaders (which at times is the government, and other times economical powers, or sometimes one in the same).

Before reading the poem, I wanted to learn a little bit more about the title. The fact that the entire book has the same title as the poem draws my attention to it. At first, I thought "Tocqueville" would be a name of a place. Maybe an ideal, fictional utopia that Mattawa would contrast with the world. To my surprise, it is a name of a person. After doing some research, and reading the links provided on the class blog page (http://223winter2015.blogspot.com/), I learned that Alexis de Tocqueville was a great French political thinker and historian. In the 1800s, he traveled from a Revolutionary French to America in search of understanding of a democracy, in hopes of being able to establish it back home. What he found had both pros and cons.

The pros Tocqueville saw were equality and individuality. Without the traditions of monarchy, America was able to start anew and create a system without an aristocracy, allowing upward mobility for those who are poor and the downward mobility for those who rich. This is the defining features of democracy, which ultimately creates equality. This is a form of individuality because it strives each person to try their hardest to achieve. Unfortunately the cons are also created because of this. People who strive for their own well-being over those of others hinder equality. It turns into a tyranny. Tocqueville noted that without checks on all levels of government, then a tyrannical society will emerge with the majority oppressing the minority. When we read the poem, "Tocqueville", we can keep this in mind. Mattawa seems to be suggesting that this is what happened to America. The white people are the tyrannical majority while the "brown/yellow folks" are the minority.

The poem is like a loud room filled with people who are having different conversations. They intersect and weave in and out. Some are overtly about the government, while some are subtle. Some are foreigners, thinking about their homes. The whole book is like this as well. While Tocqueville, a stranger to America, came and wrote a book about America, defining it, the people, the culture with all of its' beauties and flaws, Mattawa did the same. The troubles that Mattawa defines are exactly what Tocqueville predicted.

Tocqueville coined the term, "soft despotism". This means a country that rules over people with small, complicated laws that degrade the people, though it may not be obvious to the people. It gives people the illusion that they are in control, but they actually have little power. Mattawa states that this is the current state of the US. He writes on page 28, "It just doesn't look like racism. What do you call it then? A kind of mould, software, bedrock. You can make all sorts of people buy into it. Blacks, Hispanics, Jews, Asiatics, Arabs, Indians. That's what happens to them when they're on your side. There's already fear that makes all kinds of violence legitimate, or a desire to kill that rationalizes itself as fear of violence. In the end, it doesn't matter which."