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.