*Summary*
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The author considers the multitudes and variety of prayers made by friends and family for his sake.
*Favorite Lines/Phrases*
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Saturday, May 30, 2009
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: THE WHEELCHAIR
*Summary*
--------------
The author faces the grim reality of his condition: he will never live outside of the wheelchair.
*Favorite Lines/Phrases*
--------------------------
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The author faces the grim reality of his condition: he will never live outside of the wheelchair.
*Favorite Lines/Phrases*
--------------------------
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: PROLOGUE
*Summary*
---------------
Author awaits arrival of the emissary from his publisher to record his words, dictated by blinking his left eye.
*Favorite Lines/Phrases*
--------------------------
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Author awaits arrival of the emissary from his publisher to record his words, dictated by blinking his left eye.
*Favorite Lines/Phrases*
--------------------------
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Greater Understanding
In my Literacy Narrative so many weeks ago, I discussed all the stamps I had accumulated on my "literacy passport." Today, I hold this passport in my hands and am challenged to consider what stamps will grace this passport in the future and, furthermore, what my passport will enable me to do in the future.
A great man once sang, "Take a look; it's in a book." I have spent much of my life devouring many words and consuming many books. I have come across many truths that I feel I would never have encountered without the power of the written word. However, there is always the nagging feeling that I am missing something - that there is a book out there that is calling out to me in vain.
My experiences this semester have shown me that even those books I would not have picked up on my own hold great value. I find that, by stepping outside of my comfort zone and opening a book of poetry or an existentialist novel, I can widen my horizons and make myself receptive to truths I would not otherwise have accepted.
When I first entered this class, I had a strong desire to follow my passion for literature to a publishing house. While I still feel that publishing will be in my future, I am not confident that a publishing house will be my ultimate destination. I seem to be developing a case of uncertainty much like Binx Bolling. (Though it could be this head cold.) I feel like I need to slow down and analyze the world around me and inside of me before I can truly know where literature will lead me. And I feel that literature can give me the tools to analyze these distinct worlds.
Over the course of this semester, I have found myself making constant comparisons to my classmates. I find myself very rusty when it comes to analyzing literature, and I will admit that I often envy the skills and experiences of my classmates. I lack the perspective that gender studies offers. My comprehension of poetry is severely lacking. I am ignorant of many cultural and racial contexts that many of my peers know backwards and forwards.
If nothing else, this class has shown me my deficiencies and given me the inspiration to improve myself. But it has also shown me that I have an eye and ear for poetic constructions - I feed on metaphors and similes and cannot get enough of rhyme and meter. I get a special thrill when I happen upon a sly joke or allegory, and I live for the days when I will understand an allusion to an older literary work that others might not.
I must say that I enjoyed the opportunity to apply traditional literary analysis to non-traditional formats like graphic novel and film. These artistic forms are prevalent in today's world and I anxiously await using the tools from this class to dissect comic books I read outside of the school walls and even the summer movies. My interests outside of school no longer have to be kept separate - I have found that, in joining the two, I gain a greater understanding of every artistic input and reap a greater understanding of each.
A great man once sang, "Take a look; it's in a book." I have spent much of my life devouring many words and consuming many books. I have come across many truths that I feel I would never have encountered without the power of the written word. However, there is always the nagging feeling that I am missing something - that there is a book out there that is calling out to me in vain.
My experiences this semester have shown me that even those books I would not have picked up on my own hold great value. I find that, by stepping outside of my comfort zone and opening a book of poetry or an existentialist novel, I can widen my horizons and make myself receptive to truths I would not otherwise have accepted.
When I first entered this class, I had a strong desire to follow my passion for literature to a publishing house. While I still feel that publishing will be in my future, I am not confident that a publishing house will be my ultimate destination. I seem to be developing a case of uncertainty much like Binx Bolling. (Though it could be this head cold.) I feel like I need to slow down and analyze the world around me and inside of me before I can truly know where literature will lead me. And I feel that literature can give me the tools to analyze these distinct worlds.
Over the course of this semester, I have found myself making constant comparisons to my classmates. I find myself very rusty when it comes to analyzing literature, and I will admit that I often envy the skills and experiences of my classmates. I lack the perspective that gender studies offers. My comprehension of poetry is severely lacking. I am ignorant of many cultural and racial contexts that many of my peers know backwards and forwards.
If nothing else, this class has shown me my deficiencies and given me the inspiration to improve myself. But it has also shown me that I have an eye and ear for poetic constructions - I feed on metaphors and similes and cannot get enough of rhyme and meter. I get a special thrill when I happen upon a sly joke or allegory, and I live for the days when I will understand an allusion to an older literary work that others might not.
I must say that I enjoyed the opportunity to apply traditional literary analysis to non-traditional formats like graphic novel and film. These artistic forms are prevalent in today's world and I anxiously await using the tools from this class to dissect comic books I read outside of the school walls and even the summer movies. My interests outside of school no longer have to be kept separate - I have found that, in joining the two, I gain a greater understanding of every artistic input and reap a greater understanding of each.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Last to jump on the boat
I'm almost ashamed to say that I didn't even notice the lack of estrogen in this play. I guess it's a credit to the playwright that he could write such an impressive piece without a single woman.
"But what does it mean?" You ask. The lack of women seems to make the statement that femininity guides morality. The characters in the play are playing each other - for more money, for better leads, for a Cadillac. Levene wants another opportunity to prove his sales skills; Moss and Aaronow want a return to the good 'ol days and they want the respect their experience demands; Roma wants power and money and attention and he won't let anyone stand in his way. All of these characters want something and no one is willing to earn it honestly.
Mr. Lingk is impulsive without his wife. She balances him and sets off Roma's balance in the process (which causes a domino effect ending with Levene). The "ex" mentioned in the beginning of the play also provides a foil for the impatient, impulsive nature of a man. Levene's daughter plays an interesting role - rather than holding her father back from his rash nature, she seems to become the cause for his desperation. Then we have Harriet, who is the epitome of caution - in such a twisted way: she agrees to a deal with no real intention of fulfilling it. She doesn't even wade in the idea of purchasing land but instead jumps the whole puddle and then splashes herself with water to make it seem different.
I have some things to stew on here. I will return.
"But what does it mean?" You ask. The lack of women seems to make the statement that femininity guides morality. The characters in the play are playing each other - for more money, for better leads, for a Cadillac. Levene wants another opportunity to prove his sales skills; Moss and Aaronow want a return to the good 'ol days and they want the respect their experience demands; Roma wants power and money and attention and he won't let anyone stand in his way. All of these characters want something and no one is willing to earn it honestly.
Mr. Lingk is impulsive without his wife. She balances him and sets off Roma's balance in the process (which causes a domino effect ending with Levene). The "ex" mentioned in the beginning of the play also provides a foil for the impatient, impulsive nature of a man. Levene's daughter plays an interesting role - rather than holding her father back from his rash nature, she seems to become the cause for his desperation. Then we have Harriet, who is the epitome of caution - in such a twisted way: she agrees to a deal with no real intention of fulfilling it. She doesn't even wade in the idea of purchasing land but instead jumps the whole puddle and then splashes herself with water to make it seem different.
I have some things to stew on here. I will return.
Monday, February 23, 2009
King Lear Cries for Mommy
I must admit, I marveled at the world of difference between Cordelia and her older sisters. How could these three be sisters? Cordelia embodies a sort of idealistic femininity with its traditional values of compassion, devotion, honesty and humility; and plays this role throughout the play. Regan and Goneril, on the other hand, are characteristically masculine (to an extreme), and possess a warrior's intensity and values - intent on obtaining and maintaining power with no consideration for those they cut down on their way there. Cordelia values her family, while her sisters care only for themselves.
While Shakespeare omits any mention of the queen, I find my mind grappling for a mother character. She is not present at the outset, that much is certain - but I wonder what role Lear's wife played in the rearing of the children. Probably, it is not key to analyzing the story itself, but it is intriguing to think about. How could a mother's sensibilities root themselves so strongly in the youngest daughter, while skipping those that came before? Or maybe my assumptions made regarding the queen's character were flawed: what if, if fact the woman was cruel and conniving? In this way, she might have bestowed her evils upon her eldest and died before she could pollute the mind of the young Cordelia. (Though my reading of the King challenges this hypothesis.) My curious nature begs a prequel to Shakespeare's tragedy. Still, such details shall not impede my analysis further.
The attributes of the daughters have [briefly] been discussed; what to say of the king himself? At the opening of the play, Lear is at the top of his game - a powerful ruler that has proven his prowess on the battlefield and on the throne. No one would or could challenge his masculinity. At the close, he has become a wandering old man clinging onto reality with little success. But what is the cause for his lack of sanity? Copellia Kahn suggests a shifting of sensibilities from a masculine to feminine mentality. She claims King Lear is initially unable to properly read the truth of his daughter's proclamations of love, as the patriarchal world in which he lives lacks the facility to comprehend truth in the matriarchal realm of love. It is not until he loses his power and his mind that his long-denied femininity surfaces, granting him a lens to see the truth of Cordelia's quiet devotion.
Indeed, when Lear's power begins to crumble, he sees more clearly. He realizes that his eldest daughters have manipulated and sabotaged him - their own father. He gets to the point where he can relate to Cordelia's plight, and he cries tears of shame for having subjected her to such severe punishment.
I must say that Kahn's observation that "[King Lear] learns to weep and, though his tears scald and burn like molten lead, they are no longer 'women’s weapons' against which he must defend himself" brings my mind back to the nonexistent prequel. (Was his wife a shrew that manipulated him with tears?) Honestly, this blurb is just for me ... overlook it. Please.
While Shakespeare omits any mention of the queen, I find my mind grappling for a mother character. She is not present at the outset, that much is certain - but I wonder what role Lear's wife played in the rearing of the children. Probably, it is not key to analyzing the story itself, but it is intriguing to think about. How could a mother's sensibilities root themselves so strongly in the youngest daughter, while skipping those that came before? Or maybe my assumptions made regarding the queen's character were flawed: what if, if fact the woman was cruel and conniving? In this way, she might have bestowed her evils upon her eldest and died before she could pollute the mind of the young Cordelia. (Though my reading of the King challenges this hypothesis.) My curious nature begs a prequel to Shakespeare's tragedy. Still, such details shall not impede my analysis further.
The attributes of the daughters have [briefly] been discussed; what to say of the king himself? At the opening of the play, Lear is at the top of his game - a powerful ruler that has proven his prowess on the battlefield and on the throne. No one would or could challenge his masculinity. At the close, he has become a wandering old man clinging onto reality with little success. But what is the cause for his lack of sanity? Copellia Kahn suggests a shifting of sensibilities from a masculine to feminine mentality. She claims King Lear is initially unable to properly read the truth of his daughter's proclamations of love, as the patriarchal world in which he lives lacks the facility to comprehend truth in the matriarchal realm of love. It is not until he loses his power and his mind that his long-denied femininity surfaces, granting him a lens to see the truth of Cordelia's quiet devotion.
Indeed, when Lear's power begins to crumble, he sees more clearly. He realizes that his eldest daughters have manipulated and sabotaged him - their own father. He gets to the point where he can relate to Cordelia's plight, and he cries tears of shame for having subjected her to such severe punishment.
I must say that Kahn's observation that "[King Lear] learns to weep and, though his tears scald and burn like molten lead, they are no longer 'women’s weapons' against which he must defend himself" brings my mind back to the nonexistent prequel. (Was his wife a shrew that manipulated him with tears?) Honestly, this blurb is just for me ... overlook it. Please.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Persepolis,continued...
"Politics and sentiment don't mix."
The most intriguing path for me to traverse first is one that leads to religious sentiment. It seems to me that the words of Marji's father express an unrealized dream. For if politics and sentiment didn't share the same governmental cage, the country would be a different place. Her father remembers Iran before the revolution, when the nation's politics weren't as enmeshed in religion.
Though, as we have seen through our own eyes, it is truly impossible to keep the two entities separate. (Remember prayers for rain in our state's capital?) Not to say that that's a bad thing; in my personal opinion, faith is a strength. But as far as I'm concerned, no faith should be forced on anyone (I am perfectly content to read my Bible while you study your Koran). Iran should stand as a cautionary tale - what could happen if the separation between church and state totally dissolves.
History seems to require frequent glances at the rearview mirror. We must constantly examine our successes and failures so as to proceed forward.
The most intriguing path for me to traverse first is one that leads to religious sentiment. It seems to me that the words of Marji's father express an unrealized dream. For if politics and sentiment didn't share the same governmental cage, the country would be a different place. Her father remembers Iran before the revolution, when the nation's politics weren't as enmeshed in religion.
Though, as we have seen through our own eyes, it is truly impossible to keep the two entities separate. (Remember prayers for rain in our state's capital?) Not to say that that's a bad thing; in my personal opinion, faith is a strength. But as far as I'm concerned, no faith should be forced on anyone (I am perfectly content to read my Bible while you study your Koran). Iran should stand as a cautionary tale - what could happen if the separation between church and state totally dissolves.
History seems to require frequent glances at the rearview mirror. We must constantly examine our successes and failures so as to proceed forward.
Persepolis
In regards to the statement that "Politics and sentiment don't mix":
I don't think Marji believes that the two things are completely immiscible. To her, nostalgia and sentiment were her boat on the sea of politics. She makes light of difficult situations - joking about the veil, and takes joy in moments that less oppressed people [we] might take for granted - flowers falling from her grandmother's bra.
Sentiment seems to sustain her mother and grandmother as well. Her mother joins in demonstrations against the veil because she remembers the freedoms she has lost to the new regime. Her grandmother continues to wear her pearls - alluding to the wealth of a bygone era - throughout the upheaval.
I think that even Marji's father realizes that life is not worth living without some sort of sentiment. And as much as he may yearn for a numbness which will allow him to endure the regime without pain, he knows that humanity is incomplete without sentiment.
It seems to me that Marji's father may have been referring to religious sentiment, in which case his words express an unrealized dream. For if politics and religious sentiment didn't share the same governmental cage, the country would be a different place - the Iran of his youth. A country so influenced by the tenets of religion confines everyone involved - whether or not they share these same ideas.
It seems impossible to completely separate or completely combine the two ideas. We can see from Satrapi's memoirs that a country which seeks to fill the same spot with politics and religion is capable of great evils and instability. Alternatively, the complete separation of religious sentiment and politics seems to threaten 1984-like conditions. Yet even in these conditions, it seems that the rhetoric of the politicians becomes a sort of religion. Humans need something into which they can feed their emotions.
Politics is designed to secure the rights of a citizen, allowing him to express himself and his emotions freely. In the perfect mixture of politics and sentiment, people can pursue their individual interests and rest assured their neighbor's actions do not harm their well-being. This mixture restricts everyone at some point or another but is well-balanced and maintains itself.
-- Please forgive me if this blog didn't flow very well. I should have thought it out before I began to type, but I didn't. As a result, I jumped back and forth as new thoughts sprung out of my mind. I'm sure it verges on nonsensical mumbo-jumbo at times. Sorry.
I don't think Marji believes that the two things are completely immiscible. To her, nostalgia and sentiment were her boat on the sea of politics. She makes light of difficult situations - joking about the veil, and takes joy in moments that less oppressed people [we] might take for granted - flowers falling from her grandmother's bra.
Sentiment seems to sustain her mother and grandmother as well. Her mother joins in demonstrations against the veil because she remembers the freedoms she has lost to the new regime. Her grandmother continues to wear her pearls - alluding to the wealth of a bygone era - throughout the upheaval.
I think that even Marji's father realizes that life is not worth living without some sort of sentiment. And as much as he may yearn for a numbness which will allow him to endure the regime without pain, he knows that humanity is incomplete without sentiment.
It seems to me that Marji's father may have been referring to religious sentiment, in which case his words express an unrealized dream. For if politics and religious sentiment didn't share the same governmental cage, the country would be a different place - the Iran of his youth. A country so influenced by the tenets of religion confines everyone involved - whether or not they share these same ideas.
It seems impossible to completely separate or completely combine the two ideas. We can see from Satrapi's memoirs that a country which seeks to fill the same spot with politics and religion is capable of great evils and instability. Alternatively, the complete separation of religious sentiment and politics seems to threaten 1984-like conditions. Yet even in these conditions, it seems that the rhetoric of the politicians becomes a sort of religion. Humans need something into which they can feed their emotions.
Politics is designed to secure the rights of a citizen, allowing him to express himself and his emotions freely. In the perfect mixture of politics and sentiment, people can pursue their individual interests and rest assured their neighbor's actions do not harm their well-being. This mixture restricts everyone at some point or another but is well-balanced and maintains itself.
-- Please forgive me if this blog didn't flow very well. I should have thought it out before I began to type, but I didn't. As a result, I jumped back and forth as new thoughts sprung out of my mind. I'm sure it verges on nonsensical mumbo-jumbo at times. Sorry.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The Moviegoer
Prior to logging into blogger.com, I sent a brief email to my mother. Just everyday topics: school, money, boys, what have you. I closed with a P.S. which read:
"Have you ever read The Moviegoer? I just did for my American Literature class and I'm not quite sure what to think of it. It didn't stir up any strong emotions in me, just half-formed impressions and opinions. What a foggy novel."
That is truly my response to this piece. There were pieces within it which appealed to me - descriptive passages with a twisted narration, dialogue which expressed much more at second glance. About a third of the way through this book, I grabbed a pencil and started underlining intriguing elements (my God, the abundance of cultural references!). Binx Bollings' investigations and observations were appealing to me ... but he had a sort of attention deficit disorder which jumped from one thing to another and once he had pulled me in with the description of newlyweds he jumped to another character and so on he proceeded, jumping from one lilypad to the next like a frog seeking a fly across the pond. So went his search, search for meaning, search for a higher power, search for a cure to the malaise.
And what to say of Kate? She is both better and worse than our protagonist. She herself admits that it is better to lose hope and admit it rather than lose hope and hide it from oneself, accusing Binx of the latter. She also admits that she is always frightened, and is not sure she will ever be able to overcome her anxiety. She needs Binx to keep the fear at bay.
Binx is an ordinary man when viewed from a distance, but a storm of questions is trapped within him. Kate, however, has sacrificed external calm for self acceptance - she knows she is flawed, maybe permanently. She is strong in her weakness; she is weak in her strength. They both seem to envy each other somehow. Binx aches to pursue his quest by escaping the rigidity of the everyday ... I think part of him wants Kate's freedom. Kate has no grip on the everyday and has made several quests - at the end of each of her "dark times" she came to an answer which seemed life-changing at the time but never resulted in any change ... her situation always remains the same.
They prove that there is no path to the answers. Or rather, the path leads nowhere. The answers do not exist. but perhaps, by accepting a common life, can one survive.
So many things arose in my mind throughout the reading. I don't know quite how to express them looking back; perhaps I will have to go over my underlined phrases...
"Have you ever read The Moviegoer? I just did for my American Literature class and I'm not quite sure what to think of it. It didn't stir up any strong emotions in me, just half-formed impressions and opinions. What a foggy novel."
That is truly my response to this piece. There were pieces within it which appealed to me - descriptive passages with a twisted narration, dialogue which expressed much more at second glance. About a third of the way through this book, I grabbed a pencil and started underlining intriguing elements (my God, the abundance of cultural references!). Binx Bollings' investigations and observations were appealing to me ... but he had a sort of attention deficit disorder which jumped from one thing to another and once he had pulled me in with the description of newlyweds he jumped to another character and so on he proceeded, jumping from one lilypad to the next like a frog seeking a fly across the pond. So went his search, search for meaning, search for a higher power, search for a cure to the malaise.
And what to say of Kate? She is both better and worse than our protagonist. She herself admits that it is better to lose hope and admit it rather than lose hope and hide it from oneself, accusing Binx of the latter. She also admits that she is always frightened, and is not sure she will ever be able to overcome her anxiety. She needs Binx to keep the fear at bay.
Binx is an ordinary man when viewed from a distance, but a storm of questions is trapped within him. Kate, however, has sacrificed external calm for self acceptance - she knows she is flawed, maybe permanently. She is strong in her weakness; she is weak in her strength. They both seem to envy each other somehow. Binx aches to pursue his quest by escaping the rigidity of the everyday ... I think part of him wants Kate's freedom. Kate has no grip on the everyday and has made several quests - at the end of each of her "dark times" she came to an answer which seemed life-changing at the time but never resulted in any change ... her situation always remains the same.
They prove that there is no path to the answers. Or rather, the path leads nowhere. The answers do not exist. but perhaps, by accepting a common life, can one survive.
So many things arose in my mind throughout the reading. I don't know quite how to express them looking back; perhaps I will have to go over my underlined phrases...
Monday, January 26, 2009
Part Two, Chapter 1
I get a strange joy out of reading those passages which are derogatory and/or politically incorrect. As Binx's private thoughts form the narrative of this novel, we are treated to gems he would have censored if he knew he was being watched:
Am I a sparrow? I always found sparrows interesting, hopping about and watching their surroundings with their beady eyes. Not quite sure why....but I digress.
Poor Walter. Yet, not as poor as Binx ... I admit. At least Walter has some idea of what he wants (Kate); Binx just has some vague search. I don't know what he's searching for. I don't think even he knows what it is he is pursuing.
Kate wants to be kicked out of the house and forced to stand on her own. I can relate: she feels sheltered, protected ... but part of her can't sever her ties to her family, and she will never leave the nest until it falls out from beneath her.
The word "love" is tossed around so nonchalantly in this narrative. He is in "love" with Sharon and every other secretary that has come before her. His description of her is full of phrases so natural to our narrator ... but to me his style is borderline insulting:
"...her arms come out of the armholes as tenderly as a little girl's. But when she puts her hand to her hair, you see that it is quite an arm."
"...it is this very crowding of the cheekbone into the eye socket, narrowing the eye into a squint-eyed almost Chinese treacherousness, which is so ugly in him [Sharon's father] and so beautiful in her."
In the 1960s, China was shifting to a communist state. It is possible that Sharon's father was unattractive to Binx because he resembled a man of Chinese ancestry ... a group of people in ill repute among U.S. citizens.
"I have been as aloof and correct as a Nazi officer in occupied Paris."
What an ironic statement - ironic, yes, but only "correct" in the officer's own mind. The response of an outsider looking in on the officer runs parallel to that of a reader looking in on Binx's behavior.
"My Sharon should not read this kind of stuff [Peyton Place]."
My Sharon? I really scorn the thought that anyone can be the property of someone else. Nor is one person entitled to guide another's pursuits; I suppose I am a bit of an isolationist in this case. Though I do not think it wrong to vocalize one's opinions in an attempt to persuade another to alter their actions. However, it is ultimately a person's decision to make for himself.
And then when Binx derides himself for reading Arabia Deserta, having only read "fundamental" books in the past - War and Peace, A Study of History, What is Life?, The Universe as I See It, The Expanding Universe, The Chemistry of Life.
For everyone's benefit, I have included a brief description of each book, courtesy of Wikipedia:
I will end with these lines, which left me wondering what caused the change in Binx's life.
"During those years I stood outside the universe and sought to understand it. ...Before, I wandered as a diversion. Now I wander seriously and sit and read as a diversion."
"From the sleaziest house in the sleaziest town, from the loins of redneck pa and rockface ma spring these lovelies, these rosy-cheeked Anglo-Saxon lovelies, by the million. They are commoner than sparrows, and like sparrows they are at home in the streets, in the parks, on doorsteps. No one marvels at them; no one holds them dear. They flush out of their nests first thing and alight in the cities to stay, and no one misses them. ...But I marvel at them; I miss them; I hold them dear."
Am I a sparrow? I always found sparrows interesting, hopping about and watching their surroundings with their beady eyes. Not quite sure why....but I digress.
Poor Walter. Yet, not as poor as Binx ... I admit. At least Walter has some idea of what he wants (Kate); Binx just has some vague search. I don't know what he's searching for. I don't think even he knows what it is he is pursuing.
Kate wants to be kicked out of the house and forced to stand on her own. I can relate: she feels sheltered, protected ... but part of her can't sever her ties to her family, and she will never leave the nest until it falls out from beneath her.
The word "love" is tossed around so nonchalantly in this narrative. He is in "love" with Sharon and every other secretary that has come before her. His description of her is full of phrases so natural to our narrator ... but to me his style is borderline insulting:
"...her arms come out of the armholes as tenderly as a little girl's. But when she puts her hand to her hair, you see that it is quite an arm."
"...it is this very crowding of the cheekbone into the eye socket, narrowing the eye into a squint-eyed almost Chinese treacherousness, which is so ugly in him [Sharon's father] and so beautiful in her."
In the 1960s, China was shifting to a communist state. It is possible that Sharon's father was unattractive to Binx because he resembled a man of Chinese ancestry ... a group of people in ill repute among U.S. citizens.
"I have been as aloof and correct as a Nazi officer in occupied Paris."
What an ironic statement - ironic, yes, but only "correct" in the officer's own mind. The response of an outsider looking in on the officer runs parallel to that of a reader looking in on Binx's behavior.
"My Sharon should not read this kind of stuff [Peyton Place]."
My Sharon? I really scorn the thought that anyone can be the property of someone else. Nor is one person entitled to guide another's pursuits; I suppose I am a bit of an isolationist in this case. Though I do not think it wrong to vocalize one's opinions in an attempt to persuade another to alter their actions. However, it is ultimately a person's decision to make for himself.
And then when Binx derides himself for reading Arabia Deserta, having only read "fundamental" books in the past - War and Peace, A Study of History, What is Life?, The Universe as I See It, The Expanding Universe, The Chemistry of Life.
For everyone's benefit, I have included a brief description of each book, courtesy of Wikipedia:
- Peyton Place follows the lives of three women—lonely and repressed Constance MacKenzie; her illegitimate daughter Allison' and her employee Selena Cross, a girl from "across the tracks," or as it is called in the book, "from the shacks." The novel describes how they come to terms with their identity as women and sexual beings in a small New England town.
- War and Peace tells the story of Russian society during the Napoleonic Era. It offered a new kind of fiction, with a great many characters caught up in a plot that covered nothing less than the grand subjects indicated by the title, combined with the equally large topics of youth, marriage, age, and death.
- A Study of History is a twelve volume magnum opus which traces the birth, growth and decay of some 21 to 23 major civilizations in the world.
- What is Life?is a non-fiction book on science for the lay reader written by physicist Erwin Schrödinger.
- The Universe as I See It is actually titled The World as I See It. It is a collection of essays, articles and letters that reveal the other side of the Albert Einstein: the advocate of a world of peace and mutual helpfulness.
- The Expanding Universe applies the theory of relativity to astronomy.
- The Chemistry of Life provides a clear and authoritative introduction to the world of biochemistry.
- Arabia Deserta details a man's travels through Saudi Arabia.
I will end with these lines, which left me wondering what caused the change in Binx's life.
"During those years I stood outside the universe and sought to understand it. ...Before, I wandered as a diversion. Now I wander seriously and sit and read as a diversion."
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Moviegoer: PART ONE
So... I read it. And while it didn't exactly make me cry out for more...
(the fact that this innocuous phrase throws my mind into the gutter is probably indicative of severe psychological issues)
...I can definitely relate. I feel numb sometimes...
(and no, that's not a fetish thing)
...and get lost in a never-ending cycle of eat-sleep-poop.
(Crude? Maybe. I think I ripped it off from a book or movie; I never say "poop". It's just a misleading word ... with the soothing "oo" sound flanked by two percussive Ps. It's like just when the word becomes endearing, it's ended abruptly. And then the meaning sets in and I am lost in a state of disgust. Alas, we have happened upon more evidence of my mental issues.)
I can relate, but I don't have much concern for the character at this point.
(Proof of this point: I can't even remember his name without looking at the back cover. I've never read a book and forgotten the name of the character after sixty pages. Not even that trash Twilight. ...But I won't go there.)
He has chosen to wrap himself up in this meaningless world where he doesn't have to live up to anyone's expectations. He doesn't have to try because all of his dreams are coming true on the movie screen. He escapes to the movies because problems are posed and solved in the span of two hours and he isn't even involved. He cycles through secretaries because they are readily available at work and he doesn't want to make an effort to find a woman that is right for him. He works at a job where he can basically just show up and get paid. He joined a fraternity and did just enough to get in with the inner circle. Then, upon making it to this point where he could avoid criticism from his fraternity brothers, he returned to his vegetative state.
He is a passenger in the vehicle of life.
(Which is, of course, a bus.)
He watches out the window as he is driven through it.
Sigh. Perhaps this book is so far below my radar right now because I'm reading Beowulf in my other course...I sure hope PART TWO gets on with this vague search ... because I am searching for justification for the glowing reviews on the back cover.
(the fact that this innocuous phrase throws my mind into the gutter is probably indicative of severe psychological issues)
...I can definitely relate. I feel numb sometimes...
(and no, that's not a fetish thing)
...and get lost in a never-ending cycle of eat-sleep-poop.
(Crude? Maybe. I think I ripped it off from a book or movie; I never say "poop". It's just a misleading word ... with the soothing "oo" sound flanked by two percussive Ps. It's like just when the word becomes endearing, it's ended abruptly. And then the meaning sets in and I am lost in a state of disgust. Alas, we have happened upon more evidence of my mental issues.)
I can relate, but I don't have much concern for the character at this point.
(Proof of this point: I can't even remember his name without looking at the back cover. I've never read a book and forgotten the name of the character after sixty pages. Not even that trash Twilight. ...But I won't go there.)
He has chosen to wrap himself up in this meaningless world where he doesn't have to live up to anyone's expectations. He doesn't have to try because all of his dreams are coming true on the movie screen. He escapes to the movies because problems are posed and solved in the span of two hours and he isn't even involved. He cycles through secretaries because they are readily available at work and he doesn't want to make an effort to find a woman that is right for him. He works at a job where he can basically just show up and get paid. He joined a fraternity and did just enough to get in with the inner circle. Then, upon making it to this point where he could avoid criticism from his fraternity brothers, he returned to his vegetative state.
He is a passenger in the vehicle of life.
(Which is, of course, a bus.)
He watches out the window as he is driven through it.
Sigh. Perhaps this book is so far below my radar right now because I'm reading Beowulf in my other course...I sure hope PART TWO gets on with this vague search ... because I am searching for justification for the glowing reviews on the back cover.
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