Allegory and the Futility of Nihilistic Feminism

"When we abolish the slavery of half of humanity, together with the whole system of hypocrisy that it implies, then the 'division' of humanity will reveal its genuine significance and the human couple will find its true form." -Simone de Beauvoir "The Second Sex"

The Fairytale
Imagine this: There is a young woman, bound and tied, strategically placed on some railroad tracks by a nameless villain. As the sound of the nearing train grows more distinct, the villain and the woman wait anxiously. But who are they waiting for? Just at the very last moment, when all have begun to nearly give up hope, he arrives- confident and graceful. He is the hero. He has come to rescue the young woman- to save her from the doom that awaits her.

It is the "damsel in distress" scenario, a classic notion of the Antebellum south. And it amazes me, that despite its archaic roots- this scenario has survived. I believe that Victorian Literature has caused subliminal damages as far as western culture is concerned, and its unrealistic ideals of romance, propriety, and decadence resonates throughout the literature of the time period. These same Victorian tones were mimicked through the American Antebellum style. The brutalities of the Civil War brought to light a greater element of tragedy that exists within humanity, and has influenced this same fairytale structure. It has since been remastered, reformed through the emergence of the Southern Gothic movement in America. Its tragedy is now more frequently exposed through plots riddled with unfortunate events and twists more relevant to the trifles of human existence. Still, this tragic fairytale technique is not new, and can be dissected through Aristotelian analysis. To uncover the true coda of any story, it is important to read between, and oftentimes beyond the lines.

Self Destruction
"I was right not to be afraid of any thief but myself, who will end by leaving me nothing." ~Katherine Anne Porter

What interests me most about this scenario, is the question of who is who. Who is the hero? Who is the villain? Who is the woman? The story seems simple, with the antagonist clearly being the villain, the protagonist as being the hero, and the underdeveloped character of the woman serving little more purpose than to aid in the development of the plot. However, it occurs to me, that I witness this classic story line being played out in the lives of nearly every woman that I know. It also occurs to me, that nothing is hardly what it seems- especially in literature. I think of this story in modern terms, and again I ask myself: Who is the hero? Who is the villain? Who is the woman? Now it becomes clear to me that the most underestimated character of the story is the woman. While it would appear that the woman has little to no role in the story, on the contrary, the woman is actually the main character. The villain and the woman are actually one in the same. She has carefully bound herself in ropes. She is willing to sacrifice herself as she lies on the tracks. But why? She has set herself up for destruction and now patiently awaits for someone to come and save her. The unfortunate part, is that the story does not always end the same. Sometimes the hero may make an appearance, gracefully saving her just as she had planned. Although, more often then we would like to admit- the hero never comes. And how, in this case, does the story end?

The woman destroys herself.

The ending is most unfortunate, but we must ask ourselves why the woman acted as she did. Why would she be willing to sacrifice herself, and what is it that she was willing to sacrifice herself for? What does it mean when the hero does not show? What relevance is there to the woman and the villain being the same character? Who is the victim? Who is victimizing? What does this story really say about us?



Women have suffered at the mercy of patriarchy for hundreds of years; physically, emotionally, and mentally. Physical pain however, is temporary. It is the mental oppression, the social conditioning which manipulates our idea of femininity, that greatly concerns me. These false ideas of what it means to be a woman, are passed on from generation to generation. It is learned when daughters mimic mothers, it is learned through archaic fairy tales, it is learned through media representation, it is learned through tradition and religion, it is learned through manipulation. Above all, and the saddest realization to me, is that it is not men who are doing this. The oppression of women is self inflicted. We, as women, are denying our own freedom.

After centuries of legitimate oppression, it is not surprising that women are denying their new found liberation. It is just as if you were to take a tamed animal that has been caged all of its life, and set it free into the wild. Can this animal survive on its own? Not likely, and the best and sometimes only way to survive in this case is to be adopted into the care of another. The problem is identified, the real question is of the solution.

First, we need to cease to use human nature as a scapegoat. I have, the majority of my life, believed in some sort of solid distinction between males and females. I had believed that women were 'naturally' inclined to be more emotional, to be more submissive.I have realized however, that these inclinations to be emotional and submissive, are entirely the result of social construct. Simone de Beauvoir believed this as well, and it was through reading portions of her work that I came to my own terms with this subject. In her book, "The Second Sex," she asked the question, "Why is woman the other?" Because she was an existentialist, she operated on the concept of freedom. She came to two conclusions on why a woman could not be free. This is best explained from an excerpt of an essay I found on "The Second Sex.""...[A woman's] lack of freedom could be inflicted, in which case it constituted oppression. Or it could be chosen, in which case it represented a moral fault. In both cases, it was an absolute evil. Like Sartre, she argued that freedom requires moral courage. It is easier to forgo one's liberty and become a thing. As Beauvoir made clear, for women there were advantages to be gained from playing up to men, living through men, being kept by men. 'It is an easy road; on it one avoids the strain involved in undertaking an authentic existence.'"

Now, back to the questions regarding the initial story and why the woman acted as she did: Why would she be willing to sacrifice herself, and what is it that she was willing to sacrifice herself for? What relevance is there to the woman and the villain being the same character? Who is the victim? Who is victimizing? What does it mean when the hero does not show? What does this story really say about us?

Now we must include what I feel to be the most important question, what exactly was it that the woman wanted to be saved from? Did she wish, as de Beauvoir said, to take an easier road- to avoid the strain in undertaking an authentic existence? This is certainly possible, if not likely. In the most common of all cases, and often combined with the former- the woman is afraid and she is trying to save herself from one specific feeling, loneliness. And what is the cure for loneliness? Love. Now we have the answer to what the woman is willing to sacrifice herself for. In any case she is willing to sacrifice herself for one or more things; simplicity, security, and love. The woman and the villain being the same character says a lot about the nature of women. It shines new light on the question of whether or not the oppression of women is self inflicted. In this case, it is. The woman is certainly the victim, but because she is the villain, she is also the victimizer. This is an example of a woman choosing to take the easy way out- refusing to take responsibility for her own existence, and she does so in choosing to be a victim. She chooses to escape the burden of authenticity by playing up to men.

The Futility of Feminism and The Image

Now to look at this from a different angle, from the angle of the feminist. I do in fact believe that men and women are equal. I believe that masculinity and femininity are social terms and are results of social construct- not biology. I believe that women are certainly oppressed in some instances, but I also believe that this is drastically changing as traditional and old fashioned thinking begins to die away. I believe now more than ever, that the vast majority of the current oppression of women is self inflicted. I do believe in what de Beauvoir said, that women often choose to play up to men and live through men. I believe that they do this because in this quickly declining patriarchal society, this is still socially acceptable. I have watched females do this all of my life. I have watched my friends jump from man to man with hardly a spare moment in between. I have watched them never cease for an instant- unwilling to claim their own independence. I have noticed that these same women eventually break down, because they finally realize one day that they have been living through men their entire lives- and that in doing so, they have no real concept of who they are. They have no existence. Their existence is only the sub-product of any given man's existence. They do not exist as they are, they exist as men allow them to exist.

Women have always been, and still are, chameleons- constantly adapting and molding themselves to the idea of what a man wants in a woman. There are many reasons for this, but there is one that I find applies across the board. It is in regards to something I had mentioned earlier, "The woman is afraid and she is trying to save herself from one specific feeling, loneliness. And what is the cure for loneliness? Love." All women, in this case, no matter if they are living authentically or inauthentically, are all looking for the same thing- and that is love.

That fact alone, is the very reason that women are in search of a hero; because no matter how independent they are, they are waiting for a man to come along and save them, to give life meaning. This is something that I struggle with, and even though I consider myself to be a fairly actualized woman when it comes to the subject- I find it escapable, but futile. I find it futile because there is one thing that I have determined to be true: and that is that women have become narcissistic- they need their self worth affirmed, and men are egotistical, and the feminist movement of the past century has made them overly sensitive. It comes down to this: women need men to want them, and men want women to need them. And where does this leave us, the women? With all the power. We as women have all of the power because men will always want women, but on the other hand, women no longer necessarily need men. The solution lies solely in the hands of the woman, who now must sacrifice herself for the sake of the image, and find herself straddling the line of self deception.

I believe that the feminist movement has made us become more androgynous. We have become more ambiguous in our roles as men and women. Like many women, I find myself guilty of denying the stereotypes of femininity in an attempt to embrace qualities of masculinity. We do this because we associate masculine qualities with qualities of strength and agility, whereas frivolous concepts of femininity have taught us to believe that women are sensitive, overly emotional, and therefore weaker. It has become a power struggle, in which I, like many, fight not to be seen equal in biology, but in integrity.

The problem with this, is that I believe men have become intimidated. They now feel that their role as a male is being threatened. They have been conditioned with specific ideas of gender roles, just as women have. They have become sensitive to the fact that women are socially as well as economically, able to attain an equal status, able to take care of themselves, and technically, able to live without them.

It is here that I find post feminism effects to cause a strong element of futility. As I said before, men want women to need them. When the feminist woman comes to the realization that her existence is independent from that of men, it poses a problem in the sense that she will now have great difficulty in any pursuit of genuine love. This realization is a crucial moment in her life, and it is one I have recently come to myself. I find myself realizing that the majority (if not all) of men still want to be the hero- it will be the greatest role of their life, and without it, they will not feel complete as a man because this is exactly what masculinity is to them. Here I realize that it may be a possibility that in order for me to ever find that love we are all looking for, I may have to sell myself out. I have to consider, that it may be necessary for women, even such as myself, to play up to men- to play the role they need me to play for them to feel like men. We are all the same in this sense, the sense that we need to posses a feeling of purpose. Men fill the void in their lives, by feeling a sense of purpose in filling that same void in a woman. What disappoints me most of all about these realizations, is that I am starting to think that through the idea of feminism, women have surpassed men. I think now, that men are becoming the oppressed ones, and they too are inflicting it on themselves. Perhaps there will come a day, when there will be a movement in which men struggle to reclaim, but more importantly redefine, their masculinity.

Building Walls of Resentment

This secret battle between men and women, is spawning a viscous cycle which we are failing to be aware of. Because men are now the ones stuck in socially constructed ideas of what it is to be a man, women are struggling to become authentic because they still find themselves stuck in a position in which they must fulfill the roles men wish them to fill. I find this humoring of men that women do to be unhealthy in respect to both genders. Because while the feminist women is now finding her independence to be meaningless because she is unable to find love through it- men are suffering at the hands of their resentment.

More often than not, when a women's quest for love has failed, she becomes resentful. It is also my opinion, that there is no weapon on earth more powerful than the resentment of a woman. Resentment is dangerous because it causes a domino effect. When we as women become resentful of men, I believe we develop a state of anxiety, a state commonly known as hypervigilance. Because we have been hurt, we develop defense mechanisms, we find ourselves in a constant state of fight or flight. We do this because we feel it is necessary to assure that it does not happen to us again, to show everyone as well as ourselves that we are not naive. We build a wall and label it strength. We become vindictive. The problem with this, is that through it we deny any man the same right that we have previously been denied: because we have once been denied love, we now deny love to others, and again to ourselves. In our resentment, we have in turn now taught men to be resentful of women. My friend Tony put it perfectly when he said, "I will no longer be a scapegoat for people who refuse to believe in themselves more than an object of resentment, and who use this resentment- this grudge against men- as the mechanism of damaging behavior- and no longer will I allow myself to be fooled into a love where the woman, the effeminate nihilist, forces me into nothingness."

Anagnorisis
We need to, as not just either men or women, but together as the human race, begin to take responsibility for ourselves. Men need to realize that women all ready have all of the control, but only because they are giving it to us- and that through continuing to uphold a frivolous idea of masculinity that they are still oppressing women, by giving women reason to oppress themselves. If men continue to force us to play a role, one of two things will happen: either men are only going to establish relationships with women who are naive and unaware of the power of their existence- which they will continue to manifest through their daughters, or, they will be forcing otherwise authentic women to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the futile image. It is their choice, but I suggest freeing themselves of traditional construction. On second thought, gentlemen, the power does lie in your hands. You want to be the hero? Let there be no resignation. You can free us all.

And as for women, it may seem to some of us now that there are two options- play the character, or lose the game. This leaves me distraught, because this means then that for women- there is no freedom in love. This means that true love is only disappointment. But here I am- still optimistic. I refuse to subside to this theory. We as women are creators, the bearers of life- lets end the destruction- especially to ourselves. Let us remember who we are. We are the woman, we are the villain, but though it may seem unexpected, we are also the hero. The woman alone is the tragic savior of her own existence, she is the unknown heroine.

Tao's Relevance to Western Politics?

Tao Te Ching—on war and leadership -How does this fit in with our current attitudes towards war and leadership, i.e, the Presidency?

“When the Master governs, the people are hardly aware that he exists. Next best is a leader who is loved. Next, one who is feared. The worst is one who is despised (p.156 Novak).” As of November 1^st of this year, President George Bush's approval rating has fallen to 33%, with 64% in the disapproval category. It is needless to say that I address this comparison with a moderate liberal bias. But here my bias isn't a response to crimes against the democratic party, but crimes against the American people, and crimes against humanity.

It is clear from the President's approval ratings that I am not alone in my skepticism of his ability to be an effective leader. We are after all, certainly made aware of his existence. The repercussions of his decisions are evident everywhere; whether at the gas pumps, at a going away party for friends being deployed to Iraq, watching your grandmothers take her shoes off to be searched at the airport, or on the way to a painful doctor's visit that you know you can't afford. Once again, the approval ratings make it clear that our President is a little far off from loved. Feared? Perhaps- but feared I think, in a more skeptical manner, in a manner of which his competence is put into question. As for despised? I can't say, but I presume he may be lucky enough to escape office in just enough time to avoid the complete detest of the American people.

I am not a fan of George Bush, this is evident. But in fair representation, I do not blame him for every problem resting on America's shoulders. This is not a dictatorship, it is a democracy- and the burdens of America are ours to create, ours to endure, and ours to overcome as a whole.

There is an acronym that we will never forget in thanks to Bush's presidency- WMA's. Many seem to be doubtful of their existence, as far as the proclaimed location is concerned. However, our war on WMA's is fought with weapons just the same, whether they be weapons of mass or minuscule destruction- they are destructive nonetheless. Chapter 31 of the Tao reads, “Weapons are tools of violence; all decent men detest them. Weapons are tools of fear; a decent man will avoid them except in the direst necessity.”In Hindu reference, this is the same conundrum Arjuna faced. Krishna with reason, viewed the war as a means to an end, to eliminate the potential spread of evil of the sons of Dhritarashtra. Unfortunately, I would be strongly hesitant to compare George Bush to the virtuous nature of Arjuna. Judging not only by his actions, but by his explanations of them, I am skeptical of his reluctance to commit the atrocities that war inevitable spawns.

War I think, must be viewed rationally by the same context today- as a potential for the sake of the 'greater good'. I do believe that it is difficult at this time to analyze whether American military action in Iraq can be justified by the argument of the greater good. I have heard various arguments. Perhaps the removal of dictator Saddam Hussein has potentially saved a great deal of Iraqi lives. Or perhaps his removal has caused even greater civil unrest, and merely American vindication. It is hard to judge, and the truths of the moment cannot be revealed until the smoke clears.

“Let go of fixed plans and concepts and the world will govern itself (P. 158 Novak).” I can say for certain that President Bush's adamant desire to “stay the course” has been solely in vain. Is the course really working effectively? Why is it that 64% of people do not want to “stay the course”? I am curious as to how many elements of stubbornness self righteousness and pride are really playing a role in this decision. George Bush's plan to 'stay the course' is to continue to actively impose order on what he presumes to be chaos. His methods of doing this, though he may strive to do so in the most peaceful way possible are inevitably futile, as warfare essentially is. Has George Bush really let go of the Law, Economics, and religion?

“When his work is done, the people say, “Amazing: we did it, all by ourselves!(p.156 Novak)” The fact that few of the American people actually wish to claim this work, is not a promising sign.

Neutral Tones

Neutral Tones

by Thomas Hardy

We stood by a pond that winter day, (We- as in the speaker and another, whom I am assuming is a girl or girlfriend. Since I am from the North a pond on a winter day to me, is still and lifeless.)
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God, (“The sun was white” indicates that the sun was bright, but the next phrase “chidden of God” indicates that it was bright not in a plere rasing sense, but in almost a harsh sense. The word “chidden” comes from 'chide' which means scold. “Chidden of” God makes me believe that the harsh light of the sun represents God overlooking with distaste.)
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod; (Leaves lay on the dry and barren ground around them.)
--They had fallen from an ash, and were gray. (The gray leaves had fallen from an ash tree)

Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove (Eyes that rove= not focused, seeing through or around.)
Over tedious riddles of years ago; (Tedious=long and tiresome, riddles=altercations or possibly just memories in general. When considering the first line it seems that she is contemplating the past or reminiscing. )
And some words played between us to and fro (They conversed, 'some words' gives the impression that the conversation was mundane, or lacking passion and fervor.)
On which lost the more by our love. (He was more greatly effected and at loss by the conversation than she. )

The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing (Her smile was lackluster, without enthusiasm)
Alive enough to have strength to die; (This line contradicts the last line, it was not “the deadest thing” if here he claims it was “alive enough”. Here it is clear that she was literally smiling to some extent but it was in vain. The difference between this line and the first line is that the first interpretation of her smile was subjective, and though she was smiling, he considers it irrelevant because it was without meaning.)
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby (Her smile was resentful, supercilious.)
Like an ominous bird a-wing. . . .(Threatening, waiting to attack. The ellipses at the end represents a passing of time.)

Since then, keen lessons that love deceives, (“Since then” indicates that time has passed, the past three lines were a memory of the past. Keen=precise and clear, “keen lessons that love deceives”, this indicates that he was naive in the past, and even in the memory represented by the first three stanzas he may have been ignorant as to the nature of the relationship, or lack thereof.)
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me (Wrings=to cause distress to, the distress and wrong doing he has experienced has shaped him, he has gained wisdom through negative experience. He is no longer as naive as he was in the memory, the first three stanzas.)
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree, (Imagery, from memory, reflected in the first stanza, literal.)
And a pond edged with grayish leaves. (Again, literal imagery from the memory. Being that he ended with this line, though it is literal imagery, it is also metaphorical and sums up the moral of the poem.)

Thomas Hardy is speaking from a first person perspective in the poem and is addressing the female in the poem, as indicated by the word “your” throughout. It seems that he is not addressing her directly, but rather is reminiscing on a moment they shared together and addressing her in thought.

The first line of the poem that was not immediately understandable to me was the phrase “chidden of God”. The word chidden comes from the word “chide” which means 'to scold'. I was unsure of what context Hardy was using the word. The immediate usage of the word 'of' following it left me a little confused as to whether he meant that the sun appeared scolded by God, or if the sun represents God, whom is scolding. The line “on which lost the more by our love” was the most difficult for me to understand because of its odd wording. When starting with “on which”, I asked myself on which what? I thought that it meant “on which the conversation.” I don't think that the conversation is what is being effected though, but rather he is effected based on the conversation. The remaining words, “the more by our love”, means that he is left more effected by their relationship (and breakup) than she is or will be. I think that some added punctuation in this line would have made it more clear.

The language of the poem is solemn and somewhat dismal. Because I have such an appreciation for fall and winter, the images in the poem are very vivid to me because this is my favorite time of the year, and one of which I have many memories of myself. I like the imagery in the poem because I believe that the setting and the landscape that Hardy uses is a direct representation of the situation itself. The environment around them was dying, just as their love was essentially dying. Even though Hardy may not have known at the time that they were breaking up, in looking back he sees death in everything, not just the surroundings. I think this is somewhat ironic.

In the first stanza Hardy is describing a specific day and laying out and describing the setting. The second and third stanzas bring another character in the poem, a girl. He describes the interaction that took place between them. The words in these stanzas are in past tense, meaning that the interaction took place in the past. I especially like the end of third stanza with the line, “Like an ominous bird a-wing. . . .” This line indicated that she had intentions he was not yet aware of and the use of the ellipses represents a passing of time. The final stanza is written in present tense and it becomes clear that the rest of the poem was a memory of which he is reminiscing. It is obvious now that the memory is of a break up and in the last stanza he describes how it has effected him presently.

Another line that I liked was the very ending lines of the poem, “Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree, And a pond edged with grayish leaves.” The lines “Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree” I think is written literally as to what he saw. But the last line, “And a pond edged with grayish leaves,” I think is full of symbolism and sums up the poem. Earlier in the poem in the first stanza there was another line that is similar, “And a few leaves lay on the starving sod.” I believe that the starving sod represents himself. He desires something that she cannot supply him with. The gray leaves represent the woman, where he is in need, she is the gray and dead leaves which cannot alleviate his wants/needs. The final line of the poem only reiterates this fact, whereas he is the ground surrounding the pond, the grayish leaves on that ground represent the woman, possibly other women after, and his disappointments in general.

The title of the poem really is applicable to the overall meaning of the poem. Neutral means, indifference or without hue. Tones means a color or shade, or a characteristic. The title describes both the environment in the poem as well as the situation. The title is an oxymoron.

Where are you going, where have you been?

Literature Journal 4

Where are You Going, Where Have You Been?

By Joyce Carol Oates

Examine the ways in which the story Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? develops its characters. For example, what narrative techniques does it use to explore the character’s thoughts?

The author uses a variety of literary and narrative techniques in telling the story and relating the characters. The story is very scenic, so that the action of the story can be closely followed and is easily understood by the reader. The attitude portrayed by Connie is both relevant and believable. The qualities of Connie's character are portrayed in a near discursive manner, plainly stated and emphasized in the beginning paragraphs of the story. Arnold on the other hand, is a more dramatic character whose disposition in the story is used to create suspense. Arnold is a more eclectic character, and his qualities are unfolded as he speaks and acts. His actions and statements are out of the ordinary, and are more dramatically received because no background information was offered on him.

The author used a great deal of sensory detail and imagery throughout the story, just enough to maintain an element of suspense without causing the reader to lose train of thought. This detail of the story, especially in the beginning, helps to emphasize the superfluous nature of Connie and her lifestyle.

The author also uses juxtaposition to more greatly distinguish the qualities of Connie versus the rest of her family, particularly her sister. In the beginning, Connie's mother compares her to her sister with questions and statements such as, “Why don't you keep your room clean like your sister?” and “You don't see your sister using that junk (Oates, 501).” This is a recurring theme throughout the story. The character of Arnold also uses juxtaposition to try to lure Connie to him, by contrasting her so greatly to her sister through lines such as, “There's your sister in a blue dress, huh? And high heels, the poor sad bitch- nothing like you, sweetheart (Oates, 507)!” This juxtaposition serves as a mechanism to more distinctly set the main character (Connie) apart from the other characters of the story.

I also noticed that the author used a framing device halfway through the story, in regards to the house and its surroundings. When Connie opens her eyes after she has been tanning, she suddenly sees her surroundings differently. “...When she opened her eyes she hardly knew where she was, the back yard ran of into weeds and a fence line of tress and behind it the sky was perfectly blue and still. The asbestos 'ranch house' that was now three years old startled her-it looked small (Oates, 503).” She sees the house as small, and the yard as unimpressive and unfamiliar. This is again referenced in the last lines of the story with, “...so much land that Connie had never seen before and did not recognize except to know that she was going to it (Oates, 511).”

The perception of Connie's surroundings halfway through the story could also be interpreted as foreshadowing, another common theme present in the story. The most particular element of foreshadowing was both the statements made by Arnold earlier in the story, and Connie's perception of him. When Connie passed Arnold earlier in the story, he had uttered the words, “Gonna get you, baby (Oates, 502),” which only Connie had heard or noticed. This is somewhat ironic because in the end of the story Connie was again alone with only herself conscious of Arnold's presence, it was almost as if he were haunting her throughout the story.

There is also a minor theme of poetic justice presented. It seems so, due to the fact that Connie's vanity was so exaggerated throughout the story. And in the end, Connie's vanity became possibly quite literally, the death of her.

Everyday Use

Literature Journal 3

Everyday Use

by Alice Walker

Examine the function of the quilt as a symbol.

The quilt represents a number things including primarily, heritage. The quilt was first brought to light as a symbol by Dee, who most certainly regards the quilt as an object that represents her heritage. She finds sentimental value in the quilt and firmly believes that the only way to honor her heritage is through its preservation. Mama on the other hand, does not see the quilt as necessarily an object of heritage, but as simply a material object. Mama wishes to give the quilts not to Dee, but to Maggie as a wedding gift. Dee is upset at this because she feels that Maggie does not have the capacity to fully utilize the quilts as heirlooms, but instead will use them for 'everyday use'. Maggie insists that she does not mind if Dee takes the quilts, as she says in the story, “ She can have them, Mama; I can ‘member Grandma Dee without the quilts (Walker,93).” The quilt also somewhat represents differentiation and values, as well as differentiation in values. Dee and her mother and Maggie all appreciate and value their heritage, but have different methods of doing so. Maggie and Dee both think in terms of different philosophies. Dee has chosen items as heirlooms to represent her heritage. She has chosen a fake name. She has chosen flamboyant clothing. Heritage has become materialistic to Dee. Dee is upset at her mother for not understanding the value of the quilts, but this is a misconception on Dee's behalf. It seems that as represented through her behavior, Dee is the one who does not truly understand the value of the quilts. She understands the value of the quilts as objects but she does not fully recognize the very intrinsic value she speaks of. This is apparent in Dee's comments to Maggie as she departs, “It's really a new day for us. But from the way you and Mama still live you'd never know it (Walker 93).” Dee was always very modern, very progressive, and ready for a new and different life. However, what Dee does not realize is that both Maggie and Mama's heritage show through their work and their demeanor. Everyday Use is the title because Maggie and Mama utilize their heritage everyday, unlike Dee. Tradition differs from heritage. Heritage is a trait, tradition is a practice. Maggie knows how to make her own quilts, and she has acquired this skill from the teachings of her grandmother. The skill Maggie has attained from her ancestors transcends the material value of the quilts. Mama finally realizes the gifts that Maggie has absentmindedly acquired that have bypassed her sister. With this realization, Mama also realizes that she has misappropriated her pride in her daughters by failing to previously see the stronger quality in Maggie's humility.

I think the quilt may also represent another ideal. It may not be coincidental that the object at hand is not any other object, not even any other type of blanket- but a quilt. A quilt is made up of different patterns, different colors, different textures, but all sewn into one. The quilt represents difference, but a oneness in that difference. I think that it would be fair to say that the story addresses a change in society, and the confusion and struggle of establishing a truly African-American culture. Early in the story Dee almost seems as though she is eager to separate herself from her home life, ready to establish herself in a new era, free of oppression. Dee appears to have everything but what she crucially lacks is her own identity. Dee was so eager to detach herself from her inherited lifestyle, that she had missed the entire point. As philosopher Jean Baudrillard said, “It is always the same: once you are liberated, you are forced to ask who you are.” The quilt, as well as Dee herself, represent a struggle in cultural identity with African-Americans, as well as many other ethnic groups.

Analyze the opening two paragraphs of the story to show how they set the tone and establish the tension of the story.

In the first paragraph of the story Mama speaks of only of the yard, which she describes in detail with much imagery. She uses many adjectives such as, clean, wavy, comfortable, hard, fine, tiny, and irregular. She also uses many natural terms; yard, clay, sand, tree, and breezes. The yard is simple, and yet Mama speaks with great pride in regards of it. There is a reflective tone to this opening paragraph as indicated to me by the first line, “I will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yesterday...(Walker, 87).” Also, the last line of the paragraph indicates the same, “...anyone can come and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never come inside the house (Walker, 87).” The words, 'yesterday' and 'never' used in both the opening and closing line signify that Mama is to some extent, reminiscing. The tone changes in the second paragraph to create a more somber and dismal feel. The syntax of the paragraph is conducive to this, using such words as; hopelessly, homely, ashamed, envy, and awe.
The first two paragraphs establish a sense of tension in the story through their tone. At first we are introduced to a sense of simplicity, yet pride in that simplicity. Next we are introduced to the opposite, a sense of abashment in the character of Maggie. There is some foretelling of a character whose pride and decadence is the reason for these feelings of belittlement in Maggie. The pride of this character seems to contradict the humility of Maggie, and the seeming decadence of this character could potentially contradict the simplicity presented in the first paragraph. It seems that these two contradictions will manifest into the primarly element of conflict later on in the story.

Soneto español

Dígame lo que usted desea de decir,
No hay nada que yo no sé, así-
Crea lo que usted desea creer,
Usted no encontrará verdad en mí.

La honradez verdadera no es de saber verdad-
Para bailar un baile irónico.
La verdad será silenciosa mientras preparad,
Para ser mano y mano con el diablo.


"¿Puedo tener este baile?"
Es verdad para el amor ablandamos.
Aunque usted lo confie,
Es cierto, no hay verdad en nosotros.

Es cierto,
Fe es todo tengo.


tell me what you desire to tell
there is nothing that I do not know
believe what you wish to believe
you will find no truth in me

real honesty is to know no truth
to dance an ironic dance
The truth will be silent while you prepare
to be hand and hand with the devil

"Can I have this dance?"
it is true for love we soften
Although you trust it
It is certain, there is no truth in us

it is certain,
faith is all I have.





















Awaken

A Call to Apathy

In literary terms, there is a first person narrative point of view called 'stream of consciousness' that I particularly like. It often lacks traditional sentence structure and grammatical validity. I like it because it extends on the first person perspective by not omitting the absurd and irrational parts of the thought process. I like this because without that, any written form of expression would lack authenticity.

As usual, I feel like I'm losing my mind. Its been two solid weeks now that I've fought against having another bad anxiety attack...but I really doubt I'm going to win this battle. The only explanations I have are random sentences I scribbled down on countless pieces of scrap paper for the past couple of weeks. I really have an issue with putting into perspective whatever it is my conscious is trying to tell me- that's really the only reason I've ever liked to write in the first place.

Liz told me once that since she's known me I've lost my mind at least twice a year. She's right. And in fact, I remember the nervous breakdown I had last year around this time. I even found the old blog I wrote about my paranoia, dated November 4th, almost exactly one year ago. I've become pretty good at keeping my anxiety at bay, but it seems that every November and March the anxiety of the past year suffocates me all at once. I'm not even so sure that I could call this anxiety. Actually, it's all most the opposite.

Nothing is weighing down on me.

I can't even recall the last time I really put my heart into something. If I had to guess I would say a little over a year and a half ago. Since then, I've mastered a new art. The art of indifference. What's so great about indifference....its equivalent to nothing. There are always two sides to every spectrum, love-hate, beauty-ugliness, life-death, et cetera. You can manage to find a balance between anything, however, indifference is the anti balance. When I was barely a teenager, the therapists my mom dragged me to were convinced I was bi-polar. As you can imagine, I suffered a lot from extremity. I loved it though. I loved to feel. I never went to get a psychiatric assessment test because I didn't want the drugs. I might drive myself a little crazy, but I'd rather have been crazy than numb.

I was so self righteous then.

But that was then. That was before I ever got involved with the situations that do real damage. I was my own person when I was young, I had a lot of feelings but they were mine, I didn't share them with anyone. And ironically, my mother took me to those counseling sessions because she told the psychologist, "She's cold hearted and emotionless, it's like she has no feelings," but yet the professionals told me the opposite, that my emotions were to extreme. Apparently I was a living paradox?

After going through all the hell that juvenile relationships bring you, and the final falling out between my parents and myself, I was done. Two years ago I started to drastically change my entire disposition. The result is what you see now. I'm independent, strong willed, smart, and social. What is my problem then? I've been uneasy with the direction I've been going for awhile, mentally and emotionally speaking anyway. No matter how I feel about something, I rarely take the initiative to act on it. I've gotten a lot of criticism for this, which is pretty justified. But it was never enough to make me reconsider the way I handle situations. I finally found something I could relate my point of view to. When I was reading some excerpts from Kierkegaard's journals I came across this, "I too have both the tragic and the comic in me: I am witty and the people laugh-but I cry...If I can continue with this to my last day in life, I shall have had my revenge." I couldn't highlight this fast enough. That's it, that's exactly it. It's exactly what I was trying to explain before, when there have been situations where someone may have been expecting me to seek some kind of revenge on them. Most people see my friendly disposition is a facade. How can I be being real when anyone else would be angry? My friendliness is always real. And I've talked about how I always get revenge before, but its different. Unlike most people I invite you to do whatever you wish to me, and I won't do a thing about it. Karmic retribution. People will fall apart on their own, with no assistance from myself. "Passive vengeance," is what I call it.

But now I'm suffering from my own karmic retribution. Maybe.

I'm cynical, apathetic, but I'm also scared. After days of wondering if maybe I've killed off the part of my spirit that genuinely cares about anything at all...I realized that the fact that I was concerned and scared and worried about it- proves that I obviously care about something. After all, if you're truly indifferent, no other emotions will survive.

And I'm self destructive. I'm completely self destructive. A lot of people are. I find that my reasons for being so might be a little different from most. I'm self destructive because I'm bored. I thrive on chaos, and I will completely fuck my world up- all for the sake of the story. All I've ever wanted to do was be some form of writer. Someone who could relate to other people, or teach lessons about things that someone may never have known. But all of this requires some sort of experience, and usually not the best of experience, but I take the good with the bad. As lame a metaphor as I can come up with, my life is like a still pond, and when its like a still pond, you can always count on me to be standing on the side of it throwing rocks- because I'm not interested in 'still', I'm not interested in 'peace', I don't want to watch something to do nothing. I want movement, I want cause and effect, I want some sign of life. It kind of reminds me of the title of a Chuck Klosterman book about the degenerative lifestyle of rock stars, cleverly titled with the oxymoron- "Killing yourself to live"...

Luckily I don't feel that any of this really reflects my disposition. I'm not very emotional, I'm very rational, and causing problems is not my objective. It seems interesting though, that those who appear most content are the most ill at ease.

Another reason, I've decided, that I live life by throwing caution to the wind... is simply because I can. I'm lucky. I've always been lucky. But a lot of people would argue with me over what exactly 'luck' qualifies as. To me, its me doing whatever I feel like while oftentimes passively evading the traditional consequences. I've determined, that I am lucky only because I have purpose, and this is a dangerous thought because if it were to be wrong, I will die a death that has no justification in it... and death, is the only thing that has ever really mattered to me in life.
But if I'm right, that I will continue to live truly and completely freely because there really is some sort of pattern to the universe, and in it lies some form of destiny.

As another result of my apathy, and probably the only best result, is that I finally am content with the perception of myself by others. I no longer care if anyone knows how I think or what I feel. I've come to appreciate this though some would say I'm not being genuine if I do not defend my integrity at all costs, or if I don't correct the wrongs done to me by others, or if I refuse to vindicate myself. I don't see it as a lack of authenticity on my part- I enjoy the mystery, after all.

Most of these minor yet quintessential revelations came to me on Friday afternoon, when I stood in my driveway in my pajamas and stared at the cows way out in the field as absolutely nothing caught my attention. But I was suddenly transfixed with thoughts of all the Friday afternoons I had ever had. I thought about how for 14 years of my life my Friday afternoons were almost always spent in a public classroom...which I only did because I had to and there was no other reason than that. I thought about how I had nothing most of my life so was never inclined to desire or demand, but still had dreams about when I had my first car, I would be happier...when I turned 18, I would be happier....when I graduated high school, I would be happier... when I had more money, I would be happier...when I moved out, I would be happier....and here I was having all ready acclaimed all of those things to some extend and still found myself less happy than I had probably been on any other given Friday afternoon. And though I hate to use the word this seemed like such a truly existential moment because I knew the only reason I had ever thought that any of those things would have made me happier is because I truly believe they would bring me more freedom, which they did. I had clearly associated the idea of freedom with the idea of happiness...and this was the unfortunate fallacy of the nature of my thinking. And I thought immediately about Satre saying that "every man is condemned to freedom"...and here it was another of those moments when some quote or saying I finally find myself completely relating to. Here I have more freedom than ever, and yet I am more discontent than ever.

So here I find myself discontent, apathetic, cynical, borderline passionless, self destructive, free...willing to sacrifice everything I have ever valued, my integrity, my pride, my emotions, my entire physical being...and here I am again to some extent justifying all of these things. But not because I'm being self righteous, but because, through the destruction I impose on myself, comes creation of new ideas...new realizations... new perspective...new understanding. And I must say that if I never were to have sacrificed myself for the sake of the story, I would never have come to be as understanding of other people as I now am. But above all, and the best and only reason I can really defend any of this behavior, is because ironically, I've only become everything I've ever wanted to be.

Notes on Truth

La vérité vous donnera la liberté

La verdad le dará libertad

事實將給你自由

Die Wahrheit wird Ihnen Freiheit geben

La verità le darà la libertà

真実はあなたに自由を与えます

De waarheid zal aan u vrijheid geven

A verdade lhe dará liberdade

правда даст Вам свободу

Sannheten vil gi du frihet

The truth will set you free...

“Truth is a power. But one can see that only in rare instances, because it is suffering and must be defeated as long as it is truth. When it has become victorious others will join it. Why? Because it is truth? No, if it had been for that reason they would have joined it also when it was suffering. Therefore they do not join it because it has power. They join it after it has become a power because others had joined it.” - Kierkegaard

Sartre once said that, “Every man is condemned to freedom.” Every person is also condemned to his or her own existence. This freedom that Sartre speaks of, comes with our existence, we are born inherently free. In John chapter 8 verse 32 it is said, "And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." In this case, how shall the truth make us free, if we are all ready born with complete freedom? Perhaps it is because that when we reach a certain age, we begin to ask questions. We ask these questions for one purpose, to search for the truth. Nearly any observation can be argued and debated. Even through scientific deduction we can only determine so much. How much factual information, how many conclusions, how many truths can we actually regard as universally objective? I think that there is only one truth in this universe we can ever know for certain, without any debate. This truth was the conclusion that Rene Descartes came to when he attempted to determine what is true. And that truth is the famous quote, “I think, therefore I am.” Anything else in existence is open for debate, whether it be space or time. Some people theorize that physical objects do not exist, some people wonder if they themselves exist. Hypothetically speaking, lets say that physical objects do not exist, and this includes living beings. Nonetheless, the very subjective thought of anything brings it into reality, particularly ourselves. The very fact that our stream of consciousness is able to question, proves that at least something exists, and that something is us.

Everything else is theory and faith.

So while every man is indeed, “Condemned to be free,” with this still comes a certain confinement in that freedom. We are all relative. The fact that other objects exist force us to be relative. And if other objects include other people, we now have questions of ethics. Besides the question of, “Why am I here?” we also ask ourselves questions such as, “How shall I live?” We ask ourselves these questions in search of a greater truth. We seek an explanation as to how we are relative to everything else. This greater truth, I feel, is impossible to ever attain, and therefore we can never completely be 'free'. It's these questions, the futile quest for answers, that causes a certain anxiety. This anxiety, is a result of the fact that though we are born inherently free, we find ourselves unable to fully indulge in this freedom. It is the irony of the human condition that causes us anxiety. And this is why Kierkegaard said it best when he said that, “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”

I've felt this anxiety all of my life. Unfortunately, there is no more difficult task in this world than getting a person to entertain a thought. There is also no greater accomplishment. Oftentimes I have viewed people as being so off basis and far from the truth, that I have tried in vain to offer them further knowledge on the subject. Eventually I've found that in doing so I'm only being hypocritical. How can I expect someone to entertain a thought when I refuse to entertain theirs? When had I become so esoteric that I believed myself to be the only person capable of coming to any reasonable conclusions? Even if I had the right idea, I was driving myself crazy in trying to explain that same idea to others. Within a span of years I had changed some of my beliefs somewhat dramatically. I've elaborated on them. As Walt Whitman said, “Do I contradict myself? Very well...I am large, I contain multitudes.” Eventually I've found it nonsensical to try to convince others of what I believe, knowing well that through time and experience those beliefs would alter. Certainly I could not go back and correct those arguments which I had proposed to everyone in the past. With this realization came the comfort and the contentment of learning and researching but never considering anything to be absolute. Instead of arguing a belief with others I more so openly discuss different perspectives. And what beliefs I do have, I take refuge in. “Convinced myself, I seek not to convince.”

It has delighted me to further investigate into various subjects over the years. I've long been interested in history, theology, literature, metaphysics, quantum mechanics, art, mathematics, music, linguistics, philosophy, psychology, and economics. As you can see, I've found interest in nearly everything, because to me, everything is of interest. What has pleased me, is that in recent years as I ascended from adolescence into adulthood I have taken certain aspects of these subjects and really studied beyond the surface of them. Any previous elitist quality I had possessed had faded away and was replaced with a new found humility. This humility had come from the realization that I was naive to have ever believed that any particular belief of mine was right. Even more so, I was naive to believe that any particular opposing belief, was wrong. I've found such astonishing correlations between nearly every various medium of science, that it baffles me that anyone can disregard another. I've found this the case with special regards to theology, metaphysics, mathematics, and philosophy.

What is so unfortunate about the sciences, and especially religion, is that people elect one and choose to remain in it. As Anais Nin would say, this is a kind of death. Every approach to studying life is attempting to answer the same questions. I could ask the question, “Why do we exist?” to a philosopher, a priest, a physicist, a biologist, et cetera, and they will more than likely give me varying answers. The point is that all of these different mediums are searching for the same truth. This frustrates me often, as it did tonight when one of my friends said he is interested in “truth, not science”. Naturally this is silly to me, considering that through use of the scientific method, we hypothesize, experiment, observe, and retest, in an attempt to come to some objective conclusions. Though I love both philosophy and religion, they are certainly (in most cases) based on more theory than method. They are inapplicable to all realms. However, I find these two studies to be important because of exactly what I said in the beginning, the only truth is subjective truth.

Nonetheless, I traditionally view things from a scientific point of view. I am fascinated with possibility. Or as my friend would say, I'm a “positivist”. Knowing him he more than likely meant it as an insult, but I don't accept it as so. The point is that we speak different languages. He speaks the language of philosophy, whereas I speak the language of science, or more particularly, metaphysics. Because I am also interested in philosophy, though I am not fluent with it, I usually have no problem understanding what he his trying to say. I rarely see the difference in our observations. He however, completely disregards my observations (if based on science) without simply realizing that the only differentials are the terms.

Think about language. I will site a biblical story as a reference. The tower of Babel. Because God did not want the tower built, he bestowed on the men different languages. Because the men could no longer understand each other, they could not effectively communicate to finish the tower. As many of you probably know, this is where the word “babel” comes from in the first place. This is the interesting thing about language though. This is the point I was trying to make in my introduction, with eleven different languages and differing characters. But in looking beyond the actual words of the phrases, what is their meaning? Are they not all saying the same thing? “The truth, shall set you free.”

Lastly, is a visual as described by the author of my world religions book, Huston Smith. In an interview, he had described everything I am trying to say with the best visual I have come across. In regards to religion, he described it as this:

God (Truth)

It looks kind of silly, but really, it is dead on. All of the different lines represent a different path. In the case of religion, these paths represent possibly, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, Et cetera. The point is, that no matter the layout of the path, every path leads to the same destination. Every path leads to the ultimate truth.

All of the great Christian prophets spoke of one central theme. They spoke of life in terms of a mountain, and one day that mountain would fall flat. Then everything would be of clear perspective and we would be able to see all of the different paths up that mountain, and observe how they all lead to the same peak.

Anxiety with reference to Poe

I've re-read many of the Poe's works that I last read so long ago. Since I was 14 he has remained at the top of my list of favorite writers. I find it important to re-embrace any medium of art periodically throughout life. Whether it be music, art, or writing, as I grow older and change so does my perspective. I like to re-read either important or favorite pieces of writing at least every two years. When I read, I now analyze literature with a different approach. Tonight in my re-reading of Poe, I realize fully why I was so captivated by his work as a teenager.

There is a recurring theme in Poe's work of which I can strongly relate too. Nearly all of his work is dark, and though most certainly gothic, his diction contains a large element of passion. I first read again The Tell-Tale Heart. This is one of my favorites to read because it is written just as it would be spoken. There was an actor who once presented in my high school a rendition of this story. Though the assembly bored the majority of my peers I will never forget it. Now in reading the story I read it in my mind just as I remember the actor shouting it. The content is undoubtedly grotesque but I find it relatable to people whom possess a certain type of personality, I being one of them. There is a theme to everything Poe writes. For example, in The Tell-Tale Heart, the man telling the story kills an elderly man he loves dearly. He does so, because he can no longer stand to look at the old man's eye, which is described as a pale blue, with a film over it- a vulture's eye.

The story is written from as a stream of consciousness. The thoughts that entertain the man's mind as he plans to kill him are creepily familiar. Poe writes with the intent on creating a very distinct emotion within the reader. For example, there is a great deal of emphasis placed on the adjectives describing just how carefully the man acts in the events leading to the murder."I moved it slowly-very, very slowly,"and, "I undid the lantern cautiously-oh, so cautiously-cautiously," as well as, "I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily." Then, once he opens the door to the old man's room, and the old man awakens-he describes what he knows the old man is thinking and feeling. "His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself-'It is nothing but the wind in the chimney-it is only a mouse crossing the floor,' or 'it is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp.' Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain." It was when I read these lines that I realized how similar Poe's various works are. Those lines reminded me immediately of The Raven.
"...While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door'-Only this and nothing more."
...And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; so that now to still the beating of my heart I stood repeating, 'Tis some vistor entreating entrance at my chamber door'...This it is and nothing more.
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer...here I opened wide the door. Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before..."

It is clear from both The Tell-Tale Heart and The Raven alone that the central concept of Poe's revolves around fear and anxiety. I can relate because I've suffered from anxiety most of my life, and had a particularly difficult time when I was younger, when I first read Poe. As well as being riddled with anxiety, I also have many notes of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I believe that these two go hand in hand. Just as in The Black Cat the man comes to loathe the second cat as well, the thought of avoiding the cat, the thoughts of hatred, preoccupy his mind. And in The Tell-Tale Heart the man demonstrates the same behavior. He comes to hate the old man's eye. The idea of it begins to haunt him. He becomes obsessed with it.

It's this fear and anxiety and obsession that I find myself relating to. Reading the stories alone give me a familiar sense of anxiety. I've had panic attacks before, bad ones. I know what it is like to become obsessed with a thought. It seems that your mind is stuck in a loop and there is no way out. You begin to panic and your body reacts physically as well. Your having trouble breathing, your body switches temperatures rapidly, your tense, your shaking, and in the worst cases there is that feeling of disillusionment. That last feeling is always the worst, its with that that I finally abandon all my thoughts and the only one left is that I don't want to die.

Human beings experience a broad range of emotions every minute. Within one instance it is quite common and natural to flip through countless emotions. We are narrative creatures, which means we always, always have at least inner monologue. For example, say I wake up in the morning, what thoughts and feelings run through my head within a minute? I'm awake, I'm feeling irritated. The sun is shining through the window, I feel happy. I realize I'm late for class, I become worried, confused, discomforted, annoyed. I remember that I don't actually have class that day, I'm relieved. It is when we get stuck with one emotion that we begin to panic, in most cases that emotion is fear.

I found another common theme in Poe's writing. His characters are in such situations that you begin to become aware that love and hate are the same emotion. These emotions are felt and dealt with with equal passion.

...to be continued

Notes on cummings

I have fallen in love with the poetry of e.e. cumings.

Anyone who knows me well would understand why the seemingly illiterate poet, first made me cringe. His work was hard to swallow, but still the words were surprisingly sweet. I read these poems over and over again. Eventually I stumbled upon a plethora of appreciation for what I would call the "indefinite errors" of cummings. Now when I read, I read not only the words, but the spaces; the irregular punctuation and impractical use of parenthesis. I no longer see these errors as errors, but as essentials to cummings abstract style.
His use of grammar and phonetics, (and/or lack thereof) is closer to literary genius than to illiteracy. Words and punctuation have been a meaningful way to express myself. Cummings and I have this in common, we write as we would speak. I have accepted the laws of the English language and have dedicated myself to upholding it in its purest form, it's just kind of a pet peeve of mine...
Cummings however, has managed to manipulate language more effectively than anyone else ever has. He forces language to cater to him, and his own form of expression. I would consider myself somewhat of an artist- and poetry, writing- they are arts.
I have now overcome my fear of illiteracy by remembering that art transcends all boundaries, all laws, all guidelines. "Since feeling is first, who pays any attention to the syntax of things?"

Anyway...I picked a few of my favorite ones out of my book...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
suppose

Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.

young death sits in a cafe
smiling, a piece of money held between
his thumb and first finger

(i say "will he buy flowers" to you
and "Death is young
life wears velour trousers
life totters, life has a beard" i

say to you who are silent- "do you see
Life? he is there and here,
or that, or this
or nothing or an old man 3 thirds
asleep, on his head
flowers, always crying
to nobody about something les
roses les bluets
yes,
will He buy?
Les belles bottes-oh hear
, pas cheres")

and my love slowly answered I think so, But
I think I see someone else

there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards
she is sitting beside young death, is slender
likes flowers.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"next to of course god america i
love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country 'tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?"

He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which woud be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard.

Humanity i love you because
when you're hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you're flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shop and because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
esecially in yur own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down

on it
and because ou are forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you
------------------------------------------------------------

Since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

Wholly to be a fool
While spring is in the world

My blood approves
And kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
Lady I swear by all the flowers. Don't cry
-The best gesture of my brain is
less than your eyelids' flutter which
says

We are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death I think is no parenthesis

American Lit. Essay Exam 2

Were the founding fathers/mothers in fact, exceptional?

Depending on one's definition of 'exceptional,' I think it would still be fair to say that yes, they were exceptional. My English teacher senior year of high school once said that the American constitution has withstood the test of time longer than any other legal document. Those who composed the constitution, as well as the Declaration of Independence wrote these exceptional documents because they had exceptional ideas. Though in American History, the founding mothers/fathers tend to fade away as some sort of deities, further in depth reading of their work and autobiographies humbles them. This bumbling, however, does them justice. I was at first confused about Thomas Jefferson's "paradoxical views" of the Native Americans and the African Americans. His relations with Sally Hemming's are certainly a contradiction of his attitude towards blacks. For Jefferson to clearly state that, "All men are created equal," while also plainly stating in Notes ..."and proves that their inferiority is not the effect of their condition of life (in reference to blacks)," causes him to appear very hypocritical. This is confusing but nonetheless I find myself all most respecting Jefferson more for not necessarily wanting to act on the right notion personally, but putting personal desires aside to recognize what is morally right for the country. I also was impressed by the letters of Abigail Adams. Though it would appear that women were certainly suppressed during this colonial era, Abigail is one of many that did not sit quietly. Her request to John Adams regarding the rights of women in the new code of laws shows that all men (and women!) are created equal. The most exceptional attribute of these men and women were not their perfection, but rather their imperfection, and their ability to even still develop the exceptional ideas that have founded this country.

Discuss one of the writers whose work you admire.

I admire Thomas Paine because he accomplished the highest set goal of a writer- to get people to consider, to influence. Common Sense is an excellent piece of writing. It is not to difficult to read or interpret. The ideas in Common Sense are plainly stated and explained so rationally that they can not be doubted. He makes clear that America is only of instramental value to Great Britain through passeges such as, "We have boasted the protection of Great Britain, without considering that her motive was interest not attachment, and that she did not protect us from our enemies on our account, but from her enemies on her own account, from those who had no quarrel with us on any other account, and who will always be our enemies on the same account." This statement is great because not only does it show that Great Britain has no true altruistic value for America, but that also Great Britain is of no value at all to America. In fact, Paine points out very plainly that ties with Great Britain are only proving to be a burden. He makes other solid points such as when he points out that William the conqueror, the first king of England, was French. He makes a valid argument here when he makes it clear that everything has to start somewhere, and that if Great Britain really belives that it should have dominion over America, then by the same argument France is entitled to England. This piece of writing has been one of my favorites primarily for its simple yet effective langauge and I believe it had the strongest impact on colonists during the confusing times of the Revolutionary War.

American Lit. Essay Exam 1

Of these authors whom we've read whom would you include/exclude in your own anthology of American Literature?

Of all the authors we have read this far, Anne Bradstreet has interested me the most and bored me the least. As a borderline feminist, or just someone who takes pride in intelligent women, I think that Bradstreet's literary accomplishments do a lot of justice not only for American Literature, but also for the roles of women in it. I can name very few women whose work I am familiar with from this era and I was unfamiliar with Bradstreet until today. I think that she writes eloquently and uses diction that is not to incomprehensible but still powerful. Judging by the critiques of her work and what little I know of her life, she appears to have been not only a strong and passionate woman, but also one of great virtue and faith. I think that these things are reflected in her work and represent a good example of a woman who is intelligent but also humble and unpretentious. Many of the women and feminists of the 20th century and current seem to use abrasion to make themselves heard, or demand respect. This is all and well but I have much greater respect for a woman who is smart and skilled and presents herself in a respectable manner. All personal attributes aside, I really like her poetry. The themes of the poems are very real, and she approaches this reality with not cynicism, but with great faith and optimism.

Who was right-Morton or Bradford?

It would be nonsensical to assume that either men were right in their convictions. They were both somewhat extreme men in their beliefs. Perhaps I am being biased by taking Morton's side since I've all ready had to argue on his behalf. Though I think the manner of which Morton presented himself could have been more effective had he possessed a little more finesse, I would agree with his perspective. I would only agree with his perspective based on my own views and beliefs, and obviously if his beliefs correlate with my own, then I consider them 'right' or I would not believe them at all. Based on my own views of religion and humanity and just my general personality, I would have embraced the Native Americans as well. I think it is important, though it may seem naive, to strive for some element of peace, at least for the sake of a universal and comfortable coexistence. And also, I am the kind of person who likes to try to relate to people. Bradford may have seen Morton as a traitor or a menace, but Morton was really a businessman. His networking with the Native Americans won their favor and in turn won him the ability to live a more comfortable life. I think that Morton was right to not disregard the Native Americans and instead look at them as humans. He saw them as humans functioning civilly, with their own sets of laws, practices, and beliefs, and he was able to see that the real difference between their culture and his own was minimal. Morton's only problem was that he was too much of a progressive thinker for his time.

To whom it may concern

October 1st 2007

I'm keeping this collection of epistolary essays. This is the part of the first one I added to it. It's addressed to my future first child....and that concept seems a little weird. But...we had a debate in one of my literature classes the other day about whether or not letters could be considered 'literature'. I would say absolutely, if essays are considered so. I've grown up learning to write through letters. This is why now I write in essay format, because I've always been in the habit of addressing someone. Well beyond that, one of Anne Bradstreet's works was a letter she left for her children. Her children were all ready born of course, but I guess you could say I was also influenced by the Bright Eyes song "No Lies just Love", I love the concept...I'm pretty sure you can tell...


"I wrote this for you who has yet to be born. I wrote this for you who may never be born. Nonetheless, you all ready exist in my thoughts and dreams, your well being all ready concerns me.

My mother was younger than I am now when she gave birth to me. To be exact, she was four years younger, only eighteen. I think that now, though I am at a both selfish and unstable point in my life, it is only natural that I begin to think and even dream, in a more maternal dialect. I have dreams, realistic ones in which (I assume) I fabricate my own future. What has especially caught my attention, is that these dreams are never of me on my wedding day. They are not of me and my potential husband. And also, they are not far fetched or lavish. In these dreams it is only me and you.

You see, my greatest and only real true fear, is that I may ruin (for lack of a better term) the life of another person. It is for this reason that I am afraid to someday get married. I am afraid that I may in someway hold my husband back from accomplishing what he is meant to, or wants to, accomplish. I'm afraid that I may not possess enough emotional and intellectual strength to ensure that I do not suppress his freedom as an individual. For this same reason, I am afraid to be a mother. Even more so than I am afraid to marry am I afraid to be a mother. I have friends all around me, my age and all ready raising children. The responsibility of this terrifies me. The responsibility of a grown man is one concern, but the responsibility of a child- naive, impressionable, and optimistic- is an incredible obligation. How can I be certain that I will be strong enough as a person, mentally, physically, and emotionally, to raise you? Everything I say and do will potentially affect you, and I can only hope that it will be positively. I want you to grow up strong, virtuous, fierce, and intelligent. What and whom you choose to be, you shall be. But I promise you now, that I will do my best to give you the foundation you deserve so that you may learn to be successful in all of your endeavors.

There is a long list of virtues we are told to live by. I however, do not want you to live a certain way because you are told or made to believe that it is right. I want you to understand them, realize why they are important, weigh them carefully and exercise them wisely. Do not just possess them, but be active with them, this is truly virtuous.

Just as Aristotle comprised virtues into Nicomachean ethics, which he named after his son so that he and others may one day live by them, I am writing this letter to you with the same intent.

I have asked people that I consider to have known me fairly well, what my greatest qualities are. I was caught off guard when I was most often told curiosity, but have since realized it to be my greatest attribute. For this reason, I will raise you to always ask questions. Children are notorious for asking countless questions, and while I have all ready been guilty of finding this irritating, I promise you my patience. You will almost certainly hear in your childhood the phrase, "Curiosity killed the cat," but curiosity only killed the cat if the cat was reckless. It is more believable, that curiosity persecuted the cat. Do not be frightened of judgment. Ask questions, seek truth, and do so with conviction.

One of my most common weaknesses, is that I am at the mercy of my pride. This has oftentimes gotten me into trouble. My pride as a teenager would not allow me to accept the possibility that I may be wrong. My pride as a young adult has made it difficult for me to be as open and forthcoming with others as I would like to be. My pride has gotten me into many fights and it has prevented me from accepting justified criticism. You see, with great pride we become self righteous. We develop and utilize defense mechanisms so that we are constantly justifying ourselves and our actions. Do not, however, assume that this means that you should not be proud of who you are. Pride is considered one of the seven deadly sins, but still I insist that you possess some element of pride, as this is necessary in gaining self respect. In this manner, this is not pure pride, but integrity. You can be proud of your existence, but be free of haughtiness. Have the audacity to challenge but the humility to consider.

It has long been said that patience is a virtue. And again, here is another virtue that I am guilty of not exercising as frequently as I should. Sometimes it seems as though I am in a constant state of rushing. I oftentimes have to catch myself in this habit and remind myself to slow down. This American society revolves around speed, consistency, punctuality, and convenience. I beg you to take your time. Know that it is not necessary to be constantly busy and that though with patience you may move slowly, you can still be diligent and productive. Do not let work and responsibilities distract you from who you are and what is around you. You have an obligation to acknowledge your surroundings. Do not put aesthetics at the center of your life, but certainly do not disregard beauty. Life is indeed a journey but take time in getting acquainted with the people and things along the way. Do not underestimate the power of silence and stillness. I encourage you to be patient in both your thoughts and actions. Learn to master impulse. Do not get caught up in the quickness of things, when situations escalate quickly, they erode even more quickly. With patience comes a sense of contentment and ease, that could not otherwise be achieved.

Commandment number 9, "Thou shalt not bear false witness." Your childhood will be riddled with stories whose moral is honestly. You will hear about George Washington and the cutting down of the cherry tree, and you will undoubtedly hear about the boy who cried wolf. I can assure you, that this is one of the most difficult virtues to comprehend. There will be times when you will find yourself in a conundrum, in which case you may feel that honesty does not alleviate the greater good. You will find yourself wanting to lie in order to maintain a 'greater truth". Honesty is certainly not easy, but it is for this reason that it is possibly the most virtuous. Be honest, be bold, but do so when it is deemed necessary. As you will hear, as well as feel for yourself, that the truth hurts. The truth is, we live in a universe in which we cannot be certain of truth. I realize that this is ironic, but it is irony that is at the root of the human condition. The only thing a person has in this world is their word and their own truth, do not sacrifice it.

My favorite of Christian ideals, above all, is the beatitudes. As my grandmother would say, I am to think of the beatitudes as a set of 'attitudes' in which I should live by. I've all ready mentioned the importance of humility, which is a beatitude in itself, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." I've chosen a great deal of the beatitudes to quote for you because they are testaments of God, because after each statement comes a promise, just as this letter is my testament to you.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." Mercy, is another of the many virtues that is consistently misconstrued as a weakness. Be sure that you never mistake mercy as weakness. Do not underestimate the power in forgiveness. Remember that the Christian bible regards God as both "powerful and merciful." Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. I can not stress to you enough the importance of forgiveness. With forgiveness comes freedom. You may not want to free those who have done you wrong from the burden of guilt that their wrong doing has probably granted them. However, realize that in forgiving others, you free yourself. Keep yourself free of all bitterness and resentment. It is okay to be weary, it is okay to be skeptical, but do not allow yourself to harbor anger. Read again the beginning of this paragraph and take note of the promise God makes, "for they shall obtain mercy." Just as you have forgave, so shall you be forgiven.

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." I have, in my life, been accused of being a sadist. Though it is certain that the term was used in an exaggerated sense, it unsettled me. I acknowledged suffering in a way that others did not, and though some may have saw that as exploitation, my goal was to make them aware of it, and their response only affirmed my goal. Always, always remain sympathetic to the human condition. Remember that we are all forced to have the same struggle, we are all on the same path in search of truth. You will experience many misfortunes and sufferings in your lifetime. Just as you will experience these things, so will others, and some will experience them ten fold. Our lives are infested with obstacles. Be sympathetic, yes, but do not be just that. Be actively sympathetic. When you see someone who has been set back, do not merely sympathize, but do your best to give them your hand and help to guide them back on course. Do this even if it temporarily sets you back, and do this for the sake of charity, and never self gratification.

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled." I can only hope that you, like your mother, possess a strong passion for justice. Do not let others try to fool you with false ethics to try to justify wrong doing. Everyday of your life you will be fighting for a freedom that is all ready yours. You will be fighting for the same ideal that everyone around you will be fighting for. Do your best to always uphold justice, in being sure to not condemn, or impede on, the right of everyone to be free. But be forewarned, that with this virtue comes a lifetime of unrest. Know that things will never be right in the world, but do not let this prevent you from making even the smallest difference. Fight for yourself, and fight for each other.

There is a virtue that I hold dearly to my heart. It goes hand in hand with honesty, and that is loyalty. It is going to be difficult for me to explain to you the value of loyalty. This is difficult because I also want to stress to you someday attachments and the application of emotion. But for now, I will keep it more simplistic. First you must learn to be completely independent before you can understand the true concept of loyalty and love. Firstly, never mistake loyalty for dependency. Be loyal because you care about the cause or person you are loyal to. Be loyal to your friends and your family.

You may find this to be one of the hardest virtues, and in that case you would be right. There are especially contradictions in loyalty. There will most definitely come times when the loyalty of one subject contradicts the loyalty you have to another. Again, you will have to evaluate what is the greater good in this manner, and it will not be easy. Most importantly, be loyal to yourself. Be loyal to your values. You must remember to never sell yourself out.

All of your experiences and inexperiences will amount to your perspective on life. Perspective is the subjective view of how you see the world. It is yours alone and no one will ever see things as you do. Be cautious on how you articulate this perspective as it will influence all of your thoughts and actions. Find good balance between darkness and light. Appreciate your good fortunes but also remember the misfortunes of others. Do not let this get you down, but rather use it to even more so appreciate the things that you are lucky enough to have. You will not be overtaken with resentment if you keep in mind that someone somewhere is dealing with something much, much worse. Do not get angry when you have so much, and be appreciative even when you have little.

Remain open minded at all times so that your outlook on life is broad and always allows for growth. Remember these lines as written in the Tao and live by them, "The sound traveler stays two steps back and remains awake to all that is possible."

Do not be pretentious. Not everyone will agree with you, or you them. Have the respect to let them be heard. Do not become frustrated if your belief is not the same as another. Do not be overly aggressive about your beliefs. People do not respond positively to aggression and will only become defensive. Trying to force someone to entertain an idea will only cause them to resent you, and will earn you no respect. Remember that silence is a virtue in itself. Sometimes the most profound revelations in life go unspoken. Think of the words of Poe, "Convinced myself, I seek not to convince."

With your birth is also born great responsibility. I do not even mean to me, but in this case, to you. You will be responsible for yourself, and your development as an individual. You will be responsible for others, as a member of the human race. You have a responsibility to life, and the protection of all living creatures. And lastly, you will have a responsibility to civilization and society. It is a machine that we have created in order to maintain our freedom with respect to that of others. It oftentimes may become corrupt or broken, but you have a responsibility to fix it and keep it running. Apply all of these virtues to your responsibilities, and be aware that they may at times contradict. Do not be afraid of contradictions. We, like this universe, as Walt Whitman said, are "large, and contain multitudes."

Value the concept of balance. Acknowledge that everything that is, is because it isn't somewhere or something else. Realize that love and hate are the same ailment and contain equal passion. Without hate, there would be no love. Remember this also in respect to life. Learn to respect death, and do not be afraid of it. Know that it is the very abruptness and uncertainty of death that gives this life any meaning at all. As I will teach you to Remember this, my favorite quote, "Those living deeply have no fear of death."

Just as life compliments death, and love compliments hate, always keep in mind that everything is really the same. Everything will appear to be contrary to something else, but this is not true. There are no real opposites in life. There is only what is, the things that we can conceive. The opposite of anything is nothing, and nothing, like the idea of God, is something that we cannot comprehend. So with this I want you to also realize the dangers of indifference. The only emotion that is neither positive nor negative, and that has no alternative, is indifference. And this is because to be indifferent is to apathetic, to have no passion. Indifference is tempting because it appears to be safe, but do not be fooled. Emotion is what makes us human. Learn to feel, and to feel effectively. Never be afraid of emotion, but always be conscious of it..."