I have more experience with foreigners than the average American.
One day in the spring of my senior year of high school, I stepped on a sheet of paper as I walked into my German classroom. It was the foreign exchange program info sheet of a girl named Rebecca Rutscheit from Meschede, Germany. I looked at her picture and just knew. The deadline for the program happened to be that afternoon. I ran home ecstatic. I had to have this girl as my foreign exchange student. My parents were shocked when I asked; I had expressed no interest in doing a foreign exchange program before. We talked it over and finally my mom beamed and told me to run and call the guy before we lost our chance.
"I'm sorry, Miss Watson, but there's no one left in the program named Rutscheit. She must have been selected already," the man on the line told me. I felt defeated. He suggested I look online at the other applicants. It was no use. I wanted Rebecca, not just any ol' exchange student. I didn't see any applicants online that made me want to call the man back.
Ring, ring!
I jumped. "Miss Watson?" the man asked.
"Yes, Miss Watson speaking."
"I found her! I found your girl! It's Rebecca Kutscheit, not Rutscheit! She's still available!"
***
Two weeks later my parents and I waited anxiously at the airport holding a sign. We hoped she would be a fraction as sweet as she sounded and looked on her info sheet. When I saw, it was like meeting a long lost friend. She threw her arms around me, kissed me on the cheek, and said, in the cutest German accent I've still ever heard, "Oh, hello! I'm Rebecca. It's so very nice to meet you. I'm so very thankful you chose me to be your friend." (She told me later that she'd rehearsed that speech the whole way on the plane so she could pretend she spoke English. :P) I am too, because she has remained my best friend in the world.
***
That was five years ago. She lived with me that time for a month, shadowing me at school, and begging me to translate slang in school to proper English that she could understand. I loved being able to speak rapid-fire German with her without anyone knowing what we were saying. On her first day, though, a boy in my theater class asked her, "So... do you guys think you were the good guys in World War II? Gassing people and stuff? I mean do they like teach you that that was right?" She looked at me, confused.
"Kate, what he mean?" I stared at her guiltily. "Translate please!" she requested in her sing-song voice.
"Yeah, translate!" shouted the class, all waiting to hear her answer. I felt my jaw tighten.
"I refuse to translate that question. Rebecca, tell the class what your classmates said in Germany when you told them you were going to live in Dallas, Texas."
"Ahh yes! They said, 'Oh, they murdered the president!'" Yeah. That's our reputation abroad, Texans. Is it fair to judge all of us on the actions of one man? I think not.
***
That summer I visited Rebecca in Germany for nearly a month. It would take me too many blogs to describe my experiences there. I am proud to say that I could easily converse with everyone, including Rebecca's maternal grandfather, whom her father refused to visit because he couldn't understand a word he said. This grandfather told me I speak excellent German. That was one of the highlights of the trip, since Rebecca's dad made such a fuss over how I wouldn't be able to speak to the grandparents.
***
The following summer she came to visit for the summer with her best friend, Carina. Carina speak very little English, to the point of hardly being able to communicate with my dad without a translator nearby. She had never been to America before and couldn't believe the Stockyards were real.
***
Last year we were fortunate enough to live together for the whole semester. Rebecca finished high school and wanted to live with me for a bit before going to college. It was a happy coincidence that my roommate was going to London for the fall semester, so Rebecca came and took her place. She was in the IEP program at TCU.
***
We try to meet on Skype once a week. We have always kept in touch through weekly emails, Facebook messages, et cetera, but Skype has been a real godsend. Now I have it on my iPhone so she can get ahold of me no matter where I am. I miss having her here with me, but it's not so bad, since I get to see her face-to-face on a regular basis. She suffers from reverse culture shock. She loves America and misses it desperately.
I am up for the Fulbright scholarship for Germany and one of the main reasons I want to go is so that I can spend nine months exploring Europe with Rebecca and all of the other friends I've made in Germany. She is "pressing her thumbs" for me everyday in hopes that we will end up living together again. Although my hopes are fairly high that she will eventually move to America, because she belongs here.
Needless to say, I highly recommend foreign exchange programs. I basically mail-ordered my best friend.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Literary Theory: My World
If I suddenly found myself in charge of the world, I would make the following five changes:
1. Follow Europe's lead to support local economies. This is more of an American change. I would love to see more people going to farmer's markets, supporting locally grown produce, locally raised meat, locally made cheese... well, you get the idea! It also helps with fuel emissions because the food doesn't have to travel far before hitting your plate!
2. Make voting in every country required. That way everyone has a (albeit forced) voice. Voting should be as accessible as possible and people should be fined if they don't vote. (This already exists in one country, but I can't remember which!)
3. Create livable space stations. I would love to see more technology and funding be put towards space adventures, which is a bit hypocritical since I myself have no desire to go into space.
4. Promote solar powered energy in sunny places, and find a suitable alternative source in cloudier regions. I don't know a lot about energy, so don't jump on my case if this is a bad idea. Sunshine is free and should be used! I am a big advocate of green living.
5. Cure cancer. It's tragic that this awful disease is still plaguing so many people and stealing so many lives. The US is working hard to raise money for cancer cure funding, but I wish this would be more of a unified global effort.
1. Follow Europe's lead to support local economies. This is more of an American change. I would love to see more people going to farmer's markets, supporting locally grown produce, locally raised meat, locally made cheese... well, you get the idea! It also helps with fuel emissions because the food doesn't have to travel far before hitting your plate!
2. Make voting in every country required. That way everyone has a (albeit forced) voice. Voting should be as accessible as possible and people should be fined if they don't vote. (This already exists in one country, but I can't remember which!)
3. Create livable space stations. I would love to see more technology and funding be put towards space adventures, which is a bit hypocritical since I myself have no desire to go into space.
4. Promote solar powered energy in sunny places, and find a suitable alternative source in cloudier regions. I don't know a lot about energy, so don't jump on my case if this is a bad idea. Sunshine is free and should be used! I am a big advocate of green living.
5. Cure cancer. It's tragic that this awful disease is still plaguing so many people and stealing so many lives. The US is working hard to raise money for cancer cure funding, but I wish this would be more of a unified global effort.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Intro to Literary Theory: Common Sense is Complicated
"You'd need to know how photosynthesis works to research green plants, but if your work is successful, it may change the way we understand what photosynthesis means." (The Theory Toolbox 87) This, to me, was reminiscent of Frank Navasky in You've Got Mail: "Technologically speaking, the world's out of hand. Take the VCR. The whole idea of a VCR is that it makes it possible for you to tape what's on television while you're out of the house. But the whole point of being out of the house is so you can miss what's on television." I think that Mr. Navasky would have enjoyed The Theory Toolbox more than me, but I will say that this was one of the most interesting chapters.
To say that an ideologist is someone with their head in the clouds seems counterintuitive. Don't ideologists have great ideas? Apparently not, because ideas are not realities. I have posted before that I am not a realist, therefore this is not something I can really get behind. I love ideas. I thrive on ideas. Although unlike the politicians accused by Nealon & Giroux, I actually follow through with mine.
The statement, "You have to agree with ideology, or there's something wrong with you," made me pause to consider all of the times I have been guilty of saying, "It's common sense!" In terms of fashion, it's common sense that you should never pair black and brown. Yet when done right, it can be brilliant. It's also "common sense" that you shouldn't wear white after Labor Day but I think that's ludicrous. White is a lovely winter color. So I too am guilty of committing common sense fraud.
Nealon & Giroux write that "all meaning is contextual; all contexts are social," and I think that is something that Americans lose sight of. (Nealon 91) We are so often guilty of assuming that the American ideologies are the right ones, or even the only ones. For example/zum Beispiel, it is common courtesy to extend invitations to your home or somewhere, even if you never intend to follow through. ("Hey! How's it going? We should totally grab coffee sometime!") But in Germany, it would never be considered polite to mention that off-hand and never mention it again. For that matter, it is not polite to invite yourself to see a German's home, because they are much more private than Americans about their homes.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Conversation Partner 3
Yesterday I had lunch at Starbucks with June. I got there first, bought lunch, and grabbed a table. As soon as June saw me she wanted to know what kind of sandwich I was eating because she wanted to go get one. I told her that I was about to eat a veggie sandwich. It was so hard to suppress my giggles as she kept saying "wedgie sandwich." She has been here a year and still hadn't heard that there was a shorter way to say vegetable. She was delighted with the news, because she thinks vegetable is a difficult word.
I learned that Koreans like soccer best but that they are also baseball fanatics. She thinks that football is silly, and she said that most Koreans feel the same way. She told me about her weekend hanging out with Japanese IEP friends. She lived in Japan for a short time and learned Japanese but she said they mainly speak in English to each other because she thinks Japanese is so difficult. So take that, whoever thinks that all Asian languages "sound the same!" Her English was a little bit more polished yesterday, and I think the weekend English-speaking helped considerably. She speaks Korean with her daughters at home.
I should probably come clean. I think June might think I am a celebrity. She bought my children's book and constantly refers to my website. She always says, "I know real American author! Cool!" I have to admit, I like being in the same category as my beloved Mark Twain but I feel that's really (really) blowing things out of proportion! Still, we discuss writing a lot since it's a shared interest. Her book hasn't been translated into English or else I would purchase it. She said it's only available in South Korea.
We talked about the Fulbright scholarship, too, since my application was due yesterday. She had heard of Fulbright and seemed astonished that I would even ask if she knew what it was. "Very famous!" she'd replied. She told me that I would be a better European than American. Her reasons? "You eat healthy, you like museums and opera, you like walking places, you take dog all around. You are not very American!" (I should note that, in context, she meant the museums and opera are not common things to like for 21 year-old Americans, not Americans in general.)
I learned that Koreans like soccer best but that they are also baseball fanatics. She thinks that football is silly, and she said that most Koreans feel the same way. She told me about her weekend hanging out with Japanese IEP friends. She lived in Japan for a short time and learned Japanese but she said they mainly speak in English to each other because she thinks Japanese is so difficult. So take that, whoever thinks that all Asian languages "sound the same!" Her English was a little bit more polished yesterday, and I think the weekend English-speaking helped considerably. She speaks Korean with her daughters at home.
I should probably come clean. I think June might think I am a celebrity. She bought my children's book and constantly refers to my website. She always says, "I know real American author! Cool!" I have to admit, I like being in the same category as my beloved Mark Twain but I feel that's really (really) blowing things out of proportion! Still, we discuss writing a lot since it's a shared interest. Her book hasn't been translated into English or else I would purchase it. She said it's only available in South Korea.
We talked about the Fulbright scholarship, too, since my application was due yesterday. She had heard of Fulbright and seemed astonished that I would even ask if she knew what it was. "Very famous!" she'd replied. She told me that I would be a better European than American. Her reasons? "You eat healthy, you like museums and opera, you like walking places, you take dog all around. You are not very American!" (I should note that, in context, she meant the museums and opera are not common things to like for 21 year-old Americans, not Americans in general.)
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Literary Theory: Snow White & The Seven Dwarves
I never liked Snow White. I know, I said that about Little Red Riding Hood too, but it's true. As far as Disney goes, I always preferred the movies from the late 80s-90s, which I recently discovered is called the "Disney Renaissance." But, I digress.
My biggest problem with Snow White is that she's stupid. She's the fairest in all the land but she repeatedly lets strangers into her house. In my mind, it's a survival-of-the-fittest scenario and she is miraculously saved again and again despite her own naivety. In most version, Snow White "dies" multiple times! A high school teacher once told me that the definition of crazy is trying the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result. According to that teacher, Snow White is crazy because she expects to let strangers in and have it end without her dying. I also dislike that Snow White, in every version, relies on other people to save her. She just lies there helplessly. Even Maria Tartar says, "Snow White [is] so dull that she requires a supporting cast of seven to enliven her scenes." I think she is a terrible role model for girls. Beauty isn't everything.
I'll have to go watch the intro to Disney's Snow White on YouTube, because I have no recollection that the evil queen was Snow White's stepmother, as the introduction to Snow White in The Classic Fairy Tales discusses. I will say that I have always thought the queen was an excellent villain, but she's better in some versions than in others. I also never realized how violent the story of Snow White really is until I read all of the versions in The Classic Fairy Tales. Snow White gets beaten in The Young Slave, killed several times in the Brothers Grimm version (lace, comb, apple), gets her fingers cut off and is killed in Lasair Gheug, and again dies several times (lace, comb, apple) in Anne Sexton's poem. And yet things always end happily for Snow White, through no actions of her own. At least the hunter is always a virtuous character in each version, refusing to kill an innocent girl, and lying to cover for her. (Okay, so lying is particularly virtuous, but we'll forgive it in this case.)
Last note: Did it seem funny to anyone else that Snow White's name in Giambattista Basile's The Young Slave is Lisa?
My biggest problem with Snow White is that she's stupid. She's the fairest in all the land but she repeatedly lets strangers into her house. In my mind, it's a survival-of-the-fittest scenario and she is miraculously saved again and again despite her own naivety. In most version, Snow White "dies" multiple times! A high school teacher once told me that the definition of crazy is trying the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result. According to that teacher, Snow White is crazy because she expects to let strangers in and have it end without her dying. I also dislike that Snow White, in every version, relies on other people to save her. She just lies there helplessly. Even Maria Tartar says, "Snow White [is] so dull that she requires a supporting cast of seven to enliven her scenes." I think she is a terrible role model for girls. Beauty isn't everything.
I'll have to go watch the intro to Disney's Snow White on YouTube, because I have no recollection that the evil queen was Snow White's stepmother, as the introduction to Snow White in The Classic Fairy Tales discusses. I will say that I have always thought the queen was an excellent villain, but she's better in some versions than in others. I also never realized how violent the story of Snow White really is until I read all of the versions in The Classic Fairy Tales. Snow White gets beaten in The Young Slave, killed several times in the Brothers Grimm version (lace, comb, apple), gets her fingers cut off and is killed in Lasair Gheug, and again dies several times (lace, comb, apple) in Anne Sexton's poem. And yet things always end happily for Snow White, through no actions of her own. At least the hunter is always a virtuous character in each version, refusing to kill an innocent girl, and lying to cover for her. (Okay, so lying is particularly virtuous, but we'll forgive it in this case.)
Last note: Did it seem funny to anyone else that Snow White's name in Giambattista Basile's The Young Slave is Lisa?
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Conversation Partner
Today was actually my second meeting with June, but I thought we were supposed to keep a Word document journal of our sessions and turn it in as one big document so I didn't post about the first meeting on Blogger. Below I have copied & pasted my first journal entry:
-----------
Today's entry:
Today I met June for coffee. She ordered a cappuccino, her favorite. I ordered a tall mocha light frappuccino... okay, okay, and a warmed up piece of coffee cake. =\ Sue me, that stuff is delicious! We sat in the plus Starbucks chairs for two hours talking. She says she doesn't speak English very well, but she does!
I was so touched to hear that she had googled my children's book, searched for it on barnesandnoble.com and ordered it!! She said it should be here next week and she wants me to sign it. How adorable is that? She asked me to tell her the big long story of how my children's book came to be. I also learned today that she loves taking walks, so I might suggest taking her for a walk with Gabby (my dog and the main character of my children's book) on the Trinity Trails next week.
June also told me that she has two daughters who are with her in Fort Worth. She swears they speak English much better than her, but they all speak Korean at home. She also said that her daughters (who got to pick their English names) want to stay in Texas and are saddened at the thought of returning to Korea! Apparently there is a lot of pressure on Korean kids to be geniuses and go to the best colleges and get the best jobs and, "Here, no one cares." Sad, but amusing.
June and her daughters flew to NYC to meet her husband for a six day visit. This was June's second time to NYC and she says that if she were "young like [me]" she would move to NYC in a heartbeat. Her favorite part is Central Park because it reminds her of parks in Korea. She told me that she feels like a better mother here because she is a workaholic and lived at a studio near her job Monday-Friday in Korea and that her husband and mother-in-law took care of her kids during the week. She's really enjoying her time with her daughters in Texas and is also reluctant to go back to Korea, except that she misses her husband every day. These kinds of problems make my problems seem so minuscule.
Besides all that, we discussed my horses (she saw pictures on my Little Gabby Books website), health and fitness in Korea, language difficulties, books, et cetera. June is so sweet, I can't imagine anyone not liking her! Oh, and I also told her that I spoke with Rebecca over webcam last weekend and that she sends her love from Germany. June was delighted.
9-15-2010, 2-3 PM
Today I met June. She is from South Korea and has been studying in Texas for a little over a year. Her English is quite good but she is self-conscious about it. Turns out, she knows my best German friend, Rebecca Kutscheit! They were in IEP together last fall.
I don’t know much about South Korea so I was really interested to ask her about her country. She said that Americans are much more openly affectionate than Koreans and that eye contact here was shocking to her, because in South Korea, it is proper to look at someone’s nose rather than in their eyes. You only look in the eyes of close friends and family. So interesting! She also told me that the school system is very similar to American schools: elementary, middle, high school, and anyone with good enough grades can get into college.
We talked about our interests a little, too. June loves to read and write, as do I. She was so pleased to hear that I am a children’s author because she is a writer in South Korea! I gathered that all of her published books are about travel but she’s also working on some novels. She said she would love my help with her book about the United States. How cool is that, that now I know a published author in South Korea?
I can’t meet with June next week because she will be in New York with her husband. She told me that they fly back and forth to visit each other. She also mentioned that she misses her dog very much, but that her husband has everything in order. June is so kind and sweet, with a big grin! I am excited to meet with her again in two weeks.
-----------
Today's entry:
Today I met June for coffee. She ordered a cappuccino, her favorite. I ordered a tall mocha light frappuccino... okay, okay, and a warmed up piece of coffee cake. =\ Sue me, that stuff is delicious! We sat in the plus Starbucks chairs for two hours talking. She says she doesn't speak English very well, but she does!
I was so touched to hear that she had googled my children's book, searched for it on barnesandnoble.com and ordered it!! She said it should be here next week and she wants me to sign it. How adorable is that? She asked me to tell her the big long story of how my children's book came to be. I also learned today that she loves taking walks, so I might suggest taking her for a walk with Gabby (my dog and the main character of my children's book) on the Trinity Trails next week.
June also told me that she has two daughters who are with her in Fort Worth. She swears they speak English much better than her, but they all speak Korean at home. She also said that her daughters (who got to pick their English names) want to stay in Texas and are saddened at the thought of returning to Korea! Apparently there is a lot of pressure on Korean kids to be geniuses and go to the best colleges and get the best jobs and, "Here, no one cares." Sad, but amusing.
June and her daughters flew to NYC to meet her husband for a six day visit. This was June's second time to NYC and she says that if she were "young like [me]" she would move to NYC in a heartbeat. Her favorite part is Central Park because it reminds her of parks in Korea. She told me that she feels like a better mother here because she is a workaholic and lived at a studio near her job Monday-Friday in Korea and that her husband and mother-in-law took care of her kids during the week. She's really enjoying her time with her daughters in Texas and is also reluctant to go back to Korea, except that she misses her husband every day. These kinds of problems make my problems seem so minuscule.
Besides all that, we discussed my horses (she saw pictures on my Little Gabby Books website), health and fitness in Korea, language difficulties, books, et cetera. June is so sweet, I can't imagine anyone not liking her! Oh, and I also told her that I spoke with Rebecca over webcam last weekend and that she sends her love from Germany. June was delighted.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Literary Theory: Beauty & the Beast
I shouldn't have been surprised that Beauty and the Beast has been around so long. Even Disney admits that it's a Tale as Old as Time! But still, as a Classical Studies minor, I was surprised that I had never realized that Beauty and the Beast is based on the myth of Cupid and Pysche. Loosely based.
I can't say that I'm entirely on board with all of the stories included in "The Classic Fairy Tales" counting as Beauty and the Beast. Obviously De Beaumont's version is the most similar, and someday I would like to read de Villeneuve's version since it was not included in the book due to length. My favorite quote from de Beaumont's version is: “It is not good looks nor great wit that makes a woman happy with her husband, but character, virtue and kindness and Beast has all those good qualities. I may not be in love with him, but I feel respect, friendship and gratitude for him." I feel like every little girl needs to recite that quote again and again. "The Classic Fairy Tales" states that Beauty and the Beast is a parable for arranged marriages and was meant to help ease anxieties about marriage, but I see it more as a guide for what qualities young women should look for in men.
I don't find The Pig King nearly as favorable because the beast-character doesn't have any redeemable qualities. He's a cold-blooded murderer and doesn't even have to be a pig! At least Meldina loved him, unlike the swan maiden in The Swan Maiden, who was tricked and captured by a young hunter. She doesn't have the option to fall in love with him. My least favorite is The Frog King, because the beauty-character is not virtuous and in fact throws the frog against a wall, yet is still rewarded with a handsome prince in the end! I thought Urashima the Fisherman was a lovely story, because (a) it sounds like a Greek myth and (b) they truly loved each other. Plus, I think it's a nice tale for children, since Urashima is the cause of his own grief by disobeying his love and opening the jeweled box. Finally, The Frog Princess is one of my favorite versions just because the Beauty-character is clever. It is also the only version with a suitor, so perhaps that's the foundation for Gaston. Like Urashima, Prince Ivan causes his own grief by being too impatient. Unlike Urashima, Prince Ivan searches for, fights for, and wins Elena the Fair in the end.
Beauty and the Beast has always been one of my favorite Disney movies. My parents never had a problem with me watching it again and again because they thought it held such great values for young girls. I always found it interesting that Disney changed Beauty to Belle (which obviously means "beauty") but they didn't give Beast a name, even after he transforms into a handsome prince. That always has and always will bother me.
I can't say that I'm entirely on board with all of the stories included in "The Classic Fairy Tales" counting as Beauty and the Beast. Obviously De Beaumont's version is the most similar, and someday I would like to read de Villeneuve's version since it was not included in the book due to length. My favorite quote from de Beaumont's version is: “It is not good looks nor great wit that makes a woman happy with her husband, but character, virtue and kindness and Beast has all those good qualities. I may not be in love with him, but I feel respect, friendship and gratitude for him." I feel like every little girl needs to recite that quote again and again. "The Classic Fairy Tales" states that Beauty and the Beast is a parable for arranged marriages and was meant to help ease anxieties about marriage, but I see it more as a guide for what qualities young women should look for in men.
I don't find The Pig King nearly as favorable because the beast-character doesn't have any redeemable qualities. He's a cold-blooded murderer and doesn't even have to be a pig! At least Meldina loved him, unlike the swan maiden in The Swan Maiden, who was tricked and captured by a young hunter. She doesn't have the option to fall in love with him. My least favorite is The Frog King, because the beauty-character is not virtuous and in fact throws the frog against a wall, yet is still rewarded with a handsome prince in the end! I thought Urashima the Fisherman was a lovely story, because (a) it sounds like a Greek myth and (b) they truly loved each other. Plus, I think it's a nice tale for children, since Urashima is the cause of his own grief by disobeying his love and opening the jeweled box. Finally, The Frog Princess is one of my favorite versions just because the Beauty-character is clever. It is also the only version with a suitor, so perhaps that's the foundation for Gaston. Like Urashima, Prince Ivan causes his own grief by being too impatient. Unlike Urashima, Prince Ivan searches for, fights for, and wins Elena the Fair in the end.
Beauty and the Beast has always been one of my favorite Disney movies. My parents never had a problem with me watching it again and again because they thought it held such great values for young girls. I always found it interesting that Disney changed Beauty to Belle (which obviously means "beauty") but they didn't give Beast a name, even after he transforms into a handsome prince. That always has and always will bother me.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Lit & Civ: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
*SPOILER ALERT*
I very much disliked the movie "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" so I wasn't sure how much I would like the short-story. But I gave it a go, since my main problems with the movie were: the slow-as-molasses-Nawlins drawl and the fact that Daisy is hit by car, since I first watched the film a mere month after I was hospitalized from being mowed down by a Range Rover. (The only reason I went to see was because my acting coach is in it.)
So let's start with the basic differences between the film and short-story: location. New Orleans v. Baltimore. In the film, Benjamin was raised in New Orleans by an African American woman whose name I can't remember. In the story, his parents keep him. His major love in the film is Daisy, who does not exist in Fitzgerald's short story. Benjamin has a son with Hildegarde in the story but has no children in the film. Benjamin goes to college in the story, and I don't remember him going to college in the film. Finally, Benjamin was the size of a baby when he was born in the film but was 5'8" at birth in the short story, which is inconceivable.
A common theme between both, different as they are, is that Benjamin is an outsider. He cannot live a normal life and can relate to no one. The most powerful part of the movie is that Daisy understands and accepts him for who he is and even rocks him as he dies as a newborn baby and she an old woman. But without Daisy, that powerful love theme is completely completely lost in Fitzgerald's version. Not even Benjamin's own son, Roscoe, loves him. He is embarrassed by him. Benjamin dies alone in with his nurse.
The most prevalent theme in this short story is gossip, scorn from the community, and the loneliness caused by it all. I think that Fitzgerald wrote this story for everyone who is different, who doesn't quite fit in, or even anyone who has suffered from inconspicuous glances and whispers from those around them. Benjamin couldn't help the way he looked/aged but that didn't matter to his community, peers, family. Both his wife and son accuse him of "refusing" to stop his aging. Maybe, too, Fitzgerald was trying to get across that people fear what they do not understand and people ridicule what they fear.
I very much disliked the movie "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" so I wasn't sure how much I would like the short-story. But I gave it a go, since my main problems with the movie were: the slow-as-molasses-Nawlins drawl and the fact that Daisy is hit by car, since I first watched the film a mere month after I was hospitalized from being mowed down by a Range Rover. (The only reason I went to see was because my acting coach is in it.)
So let's start with the basic differences between the film and short-story: location. New Orleans v. Baltimore. In the film, Benjamin was raised in New Orleans by an African American woman whose name I can't remember. In the story, his parents keep him. His major love in the film is Daisy, who does not exist in Fitzgerald's short story. Benjamin has a son with Hildegarde in the story but has no children in the film. Benjamin goes to college in the story, and I don't remember him going to college in the film. Finally, Benjamin was the size of a baby when he was born in the film but was 5'8" at birth in the short story, which is inconceivable.
A common theme between both, different as they are, is that Benjamin is an outsider. He cannot live a normal life and can relate to no one. The most powerful part of the movie is that Daisy understands and accepts him for who he is and even rocks him as he dies as a newborn baby and she an old woman. But without Daisy, that powerful love theme is completely completely lost in Fitzgerald's version. Not even Benjamin's own son, Roscoe, loves him. He is embarrassed by him. Benjamin dies alone in with his nurse.
The most prevalent theme in this short story is gossip, scorn from the community, and the loneliness caused by it all. I think that Fitzgerald wrote this story for everyone who is different, who doesn't quite fit in, or even anyone who has suffered from inconspicuous glances and whispers from those around them. Benjamin couldn't help the way he looked/aged but that didn't matter to his community, peers, family. Both his wife and son accuse him of "refusing" to stop his aging. Maybe, too, Fitzgerald was trying to get across that people fear what they do not understand and people ridicule what they fear.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Lit & Civ: The Yellow Wall-Paper
I have always adored "The Yellow Wall-Paper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. I first read this six thousand-word short-story in high school a few days before Halloween as part of our Ghost Story week. The interpretation of the story is apparently what stuck in my mind, because I was quite surprised to re-read it and discover a key fact missing: I was taught that the yellow wall-paper was the narrator's skin!
*pauses for reaction*
Doesn't that interpretation make the story a million times creepier? The mental image of her husband walking in to find her bloody, mangled self, totally unaware that she had just peeled off her own skin instead of the "wall-paper" she so hated. Grosssssss. I could have sworn that it was an explicit part of the story, but alas, the story ends with her husband fainting.
I then googled "The Yellow Wall-paper" to read some interpretations and was dismayed that I found none claiming that the wallpaper was her skin. Was my high school teacher wrong? Whatever. I like that interpretation and I'm stickin' with it!
But that wasn't the only reason I liked this short story so much then and now. I love how easy it is to read the narrator's mental decline to insanity. You can pinpoint exactly where she snapped: one minute she's worried about what her husband thinks and by the next entry, all is well and she's fine! She's not fine. But crazy people never know they're crazy!
I also love the self-denial in this piece. The narrator believes that her husband loves her and spends time with her, but I think he never saw her until the end of the story. Several times she mentions her "imagination;" I think she imagined that her husband cared enough to see her, when really, he locked her in a room because she scared him and he didn't want to deal with him. That's my take anyway.
All in all, I think this is a fantastic piece. It's an easy read showing the woe-some ways of past recovery techniques. Now we can see how ridiculous it is to put a mentally unstable person in a room by herself for months without anything to occupy her. It would drive anyone crazy! And that was precisely Gilman's point.
*pauses for reaction*
Doesn't that interpretation make the story a million times creepier? The mental image of her husband walking in to find her bloody, mangled self, totally unaware that she had just peeled off her own skin instead of the "wall-paper" she so hated. Grosssssss. I could have sworn that it was an explicit part of the story, but alas, the story ends with her husband fainting.
I then googled "The Yellow Wall-paper" to read some interpretations and was dismayed that I found none claiming that the wallpaper was her skin. Was my high school teacher wrong? Whatever. I like that interpretation and I'm stickin' with it!
But that wasn't the only reason I liked this short story so much then and now. I love how easy it is to read the narrator's mental decline to insanity. You can pinpoint exactly where she snapped: one minute she's worried about what her husband thinks and by the next entry, all is well and she's fine! She's not fine. But crazy people never know they're crazy!
I also love the self-denial in this piece. The narrator believes that her husband loves her and spends time with her, but I think he never saw her until the end of the story. Several times she mentions her "imagination;" I think she imagined that her husband cared enough to see her, when really, he locked her in a room because she scared him and he didn't want to deal with him. That's my take anyway.
All in all, I think this is a fantastic piece. It's an easy read showing the woe-some ways of past recovery techniques. Now we can see how ridiculous it is to put a mentally unstable person in a room by herself for months without anything to occupy her. It would drive anyone crazy! And that was precisely Gilman's point.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Literary Theory: Little Red Riding Hood
I can tell already that studying and challenging fairy tells in this course is going to be endlessly fascinating to me. I have heard several versions of Little Red Riding Head but never have I sat down and compared them, nor have I ever likened any of the stories to rape. I do have to say though, I always thought Little Red Riding Hood was stupid. (I was surprised and disappointed to learn that my revered Charles Dickens refers to LRRH as his "first love." That says a lot about his taste in women, doesn't it?) It's actually better, in my opinion, to know that this particular fairy tale was never initially meant for children, but rather used as entertainment for adults. Thinking about LRRH as victimless in a rape situation shines a new light on the story and makes me appreciate it in a way I never have before. Besides, the moral of this Kindergeschichte is good: never talk to strangers, and (at least in one story) listen to your mother.
On the same note of being having new light shone on an old idea, did anyone else find themselves stopping to consider practically every example in chapter two of Jonathan Culler's "Literary Theory?" I kept stopping and thinking, "My God, what is a weed?" and "What does Hamlet stand for?" This chapter further confuses the conversation we had in class about What is Literature. Is it a fortune cookie? Is it a song? Is it a recipe? My mind was blown... just a little. Before this Fall, I have never before questioned what falls under the umbrella of Literature but now I find myself questioning everything. Next to my computer right now is a picture of me leaning in to kiss the Frog statue in the snow. The picture frame says "KISS LIKE YOU MEAN IT." Literature? If that were a sentence in a novel, sure. What about a lyric in a song? If it can fit into either of those mediums, does the sentence as it stands on the frame count as literature?
On the same note of being having new light shone on an old idea, did anyone else find themselves stopping to consider practically every example in chapter two of Jonathan Culler's "Literary Theory?" I kept stopping and thinking, "My God, what is a weed?" and "What does Hamlet stand for?" This chapter further confuses the conversation we had in class about What is Literature. Is it a fortune cookie? Is it a song? Is it a recipe? My mind was blown... just a little. Before this Fall, I have never before questioned what falls under the umbrella of Literature but now I find myself questioning everything. Next to my computer right now is a picture of me leaning in to kiss the Frog statue in the snow. The picture frame says "KISS LIKE YOU MEAN IT." Literature? If that were a sentence in a novel, sure. What about a lyric in a song? If it can fit into either of those mediums, does the sentence as it stands on the frame count as literature?
Monday, August 30, 2010
Lit & Civ: Ezra Pound
I am not a realist.
That is one of those things you vaguely know about yourself but are rarely confronted with actually admitting such a label aloud, or here, through a blog. I do not like Ezra Pound's poetry, plain and simple. (At least the pieces we were required to read.) The Cambridge Introduction to Modernism states that Ezra Pound believed that poetry should "imitate spoken language rather than conventional meters and should contain 'nothing, nothing, that you couldn't, in some circumstance, in the stress of some emotion, actually say'" and that his slogan was "Make it New."
*Heavy sigh* That's like people who argue that "real movies" don't have happy endings because "life isn't full of happy endings." Yes, which is exactly why I don't want to pay $12 to see a movie end badly: there are enough bad endings in real life! I watch movies for the romantic notion that things do end happily ever after, that good triumphs evil, that the protagonist always gets his girl.
To me the very point of poetry is the beautiful, lyrical language employed by the poet, not to hear everyday language. Will contemporary poets soon be using texting slang in their poetry? Will they insert LOL after certain couplets? Shorten people to ppl? Insert brb instead of breath marks?
Label me a romantic, but I prefer my poetry to be poetic.
That is one of those things you vaguely know about yourself but are rarely confronted with actually admitting such a label aloud, or here, through a blog. I do not like Ezra Pound's poetry, plain and simple. (At least the pieces we were required to read.) The Cambridge Introduction to Modernism states that Ezra Pound believed that poetry should "imitate spoken language rather than conventional meters and should contain 'nothing, nothing, that you couldn't, in some circumstance, in the stress of some emotion, actually say'" and that his slogan was "Make it New."
*Heavy sigh* That's like people who argue that "real movies" don't have happy endings because "life isn't full of happy endings." Yes, which is exactly why I don't want to pay $12 to see a movie end badly: there are enough bad endings in real life! I watch movies for the romantic notion that things do end happily ever after, that good triumphs evil, that the protagonist always gets his girl.
To me the very point of poetry is the beautiful, lyrical language employed by the poet, not to hear everyday language. Will contemporary poets soon be using texting slang in their poetry? Will they insert LOL after certain couplets? Shorten people to ppl? Insert brb instead of breath marks?
Label me a romantic, but I prefer my poetry to be poetic.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Literary Theory: Intro to Fairy Tales
I can honestly say that I have never enjoyed an introduction of any book as much as I enjoyed the introduction to The Classic Fairy Tales, edited by Maria Tatar. I am sitting in my bedroom at my lakehouse, doing homework aside three of my best friends after an afternoon on our seadoos. I was guffawing so loudly they insisted on having me read aloud. I mean really, how is spinning straw into gold the same story as downing seven plates of lasagna??
Joking aside (really only the first page is laugh-out-loud funny), I am pleased to learn that fairy tales are 'indispensable," even in times of war. I'm a bit surprised that fairy tales are second only to the Bible but maybe that's for the same reason - most people know Bible stories just like most people know fairy tales. The familiarity is what makes both comforting.
In another class, Lit & Civ 2, we were asked to define Literature and had to identify whether Shakespeare, a car manual, comic books, and a picture book about the state fair were all considered Literature. I was thinking about this discussion while reading about "the merit" of fairy tales.
The mention of "happily ever after" struck me as odd, because not all fairy tales end happily! American fairy tales do because Americans like happy ending. Many fairy tales are based on the Grimm brothers stories and in the original German of these stories, most all of them end with "und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind, dann leben sie noch heute" which roughly translates to "and if they're not dead, then they're still alive today." That's not only not "and then they lived happily ever after," but it ends that way to remind the reader/listener that the stories are FAKE because if they weren't, the characters would still be alive. (I should note I took a course on German fairy tales. I'm a German major.)
Okay, off my soapbox for today.
P.S. Ladies, comment if you definitely do NOT dream of being Sleepy Beauty, as page xiii claims, but rather dream of being Mulan and saving yourself and your country. (I realize Mulan is not technically a fairy tale but hey, it's Disney, so I'm going with it.)
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Lit & Civ: A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
The conciseness of the language used in Ernest Hemmingway's "A Clean, Well-Lighted Place" is what makes the piece such a quick read as well as adds to the overall callous tone. But the tone is a direct contradiction, in my opinion, to what the piece is really about. The sentence defining this is "He had a wife once." I love pieces that slap youth across the face with the idea that "old people" are not "nasty things," as the waiter claims, but that they were young once too and that young people could find themselves to be the sad old man looking for a clean, well-lighted place to drink. Hemmingway also suggests that youth arrogantly believes that their time is more valuable than the time of the elderly, as seen in the following exchange: "I want to go home to bed." "What is an hour?" "More to me than to him." How sad. I feel exactly the opposite. I imagine that time would seem much more precious the older you get.
One fairly irrelevant note: one thing about this piece that struck me was the inclusion of the sentence, "The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him." I love tiny details like that.
Another theme I scoffed at was the idea that money equals happiness. Now normally I laugh at that, saying that obviously no one ever bought a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel if they think money can't buy happiness. But in all seriousness, I wanted to smack the waiter for not being able to imagine why someone with plenty of money would want to kill himself. Money isn't everything; it certainly doesn't solve all of your problems aside from money-related ones!
One fairly irrelevant note: one thing about this piece that struck me was the inclusion of the sentence, "The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him." I love tiny details like that.
Another theme I scoffed at was the idea that money equals happiness. Now normally I laugh at that, saying that obviously no one ever bought a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel if they think money can't buy happiness. But in all seriousness, I wanted to smack the waiter for not being able to imagine why someone with plenty of money would want to kill himself. Money isn't everything; it certainly doesn't solve all of your problems aside from money-related ones!
Friday, April 30, 2010
The Story of the Good Little Boy / Bad Little Boy
These are two of the most interesting MT stories in my opinion because they are dripping with irony. Just by the title, you have a preconceived notion of how the stories are going to go, especially since I think most of us had not idea about MT's dark side.
The Story of the Good Little Boy is concise: boy is good, boy helps people, boy follows Sunday school teachings to a T, boy has bad thing happen to him, boy dies. The end! Righteousness is punished. In The Story of the Bad Little Boy, the boy is a total jerk and does awful things to everyone, grows up, murders his family, and becomes a respected politician. Sinfulness is rewarded.
Now, this could be categorized under the theme of Luck, but could just as easily fall under Training, in the sense that training ISN'T everything, that you can be trained to do the right thing but still find yourself unrewarded. MT must have had little respect for Sunday school teachings and organized religion in general.
There I go, off on religion again. It's just one of my favorite MT themes! His views on religion in this story fascinate me. Thoughts?
The Story of the Good Little Boy is concise: boy is good, boy helps people, boy follows Sunday school teachings to a T, boy has bad thing happen to him, boy dies. The end! Righteousness is punished. In The Story of the Bad Little Boy, the boy is a total jerk and does awful things to everyone, grows up, murders his family, and becomes a respected politician. Sinfulness is rewarded.
Now, this could be categorized under the theme of Luck, but could just as easily fall under Training, in the sense that training ISN'T everything, that you can be trained to do the right thing but still find yourself unrewarded. MT must have had little respect for Sunday school teachings and organized religion in general.
There I go, off on religion again. It's just one of my favorite MT themes! His views on religion in this story fascinate me. Thoughts?
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Diaries of Adam and Eve
Tom Sawyer aside, The Diaries of Adam and Eve are my absolute favorite writings by Twain. I think they are absolutely hilarious and I have recommended them to pretty much anyone and everyone. Mark Twain must have been fascinated by Adam and Eve, for he mentions them often in many of his other writings, fictional and essays alike. But in their own diaries, they really shine.
Funny enough, The Diaries of Adam and Eve are less about religion than much of his other stories, which is quite ironic since you'd think it would be one of the ultimate religious stories. Twain's Diaries are more about love and, in my opinion, the relationships between men and women in general. Twain clearly loved Olivia and was amused by stereotypical womanly personality traits, such as chattering incessantly. Adam claims to be annoyed by Eve but he eventually admits that life is more fruitful (get it?!) with Eve in his life, obnoxious as she can sometimes be. The pair contrasts yet complements. Their diaries, in typical Twain style, are also true to Man and Woman form: Adam writes concisely and not as often whereas Eve's diaries are wordy and ornate with copious amounts of often erroneous details. Both have an immense amount of subtle humor.
The stories of Adam & Eve also has my absolute favorite line ever written by Twain: "Wheresoever she was, there was Eden." I don't think anyone has ever written such a powerfully romantic line. I believe that Twain was talking about Olivia in that line, for she was his very own Eden.
Was It Heaven? Or Hell?
Mark Twain's short story "Was It Heaven? Or Hell?" has stuck with me, though we read it nearly two months ago. I even used it as one of the main components in my final video project. It's such a strong stance on religion and one that I can really get behind.
The crescendo of the piece is when the doctor lectures two aunts about their morals and their souls. They adamantly believe that lying for any reason is sinful and would cause them the loss of their own souls. The doctor asks if they would lie to help someone - to ease their pain or to save a friend's soul. They stand strong that they would still never tell a lie, even to save someone else's soul. The doctor then poses the question: What kind of souls do they have? Why are their souls worth saving but no one else's? It's selfish to always look out for yourself and no one else! In fact, it's sinful, which makes them hypocrites. I love that the doctor yells at them to "Reform! Tell lies!" If their lies help people, I'd like to believe that God would forgive them. I am Catholic, after all, and we believe in forgiveness!
I'm so glad that Twain wrote this piece. He and I often see eye-to-eye when it comes to organized religion. The thing I have been the most surprised about in this class has been that Twain writes about religion so much. Since my previous knowledge of Twain includes mainly Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer, I was shocked to learn that religion is such a major theme in his writings.
Monday, April 12, 2010
4/12/2010 Readings
I can't begin to pick my favorite of these three essays: "The Turning-Point of my Life," "A Scrap of Curious History" and "Bible Teaching and Religious Practice." Well, the second one was not my favorite but it's a toss up between the former and latter.
In "The Turning-Point of my Life," Twain explains that the crossing of the Rubicon was the turning point because he, like so many others, was a result of that action. This first part of his essay really made me stop and think. You could drive yourself mad, living life thinking that way! "If only my grandpa had spotted the RIGHT 'girl in the green dress' then maybe I wouldn't have naturally meaty thighs." Obviously it is true that everything is an effect of something and a cause of something else, but Twain's portrayal of the crossing of the Rubicon really drove that home.
The second part of "The Turning-Point of my Life" had much more to do with Twain, describing how his case of the measles lead him to be the literary figure he became. I could easily connect with that, because had I not been bullied and teased in high school, I would not have become chemically addicted to exercise and had I not spent 2-3 hours in the gym nearly every day for four years, I would have broken my jaw, hip, and right knee when I was run over by a Range Rover my sophomore year of college. My doctor told me that my love of exercise saved my life. Funny how fate works!
"A Scrap of Curious History" interested me less than the previous reading because I had no personal connection to the stories mentioned, but one of the last paragraphs really pulled at my heart strings: "He was hanged. It was a mistake." I also appreciate the comparison between France and America and that Martyrdom is universal.
I was particularly excited by "Bible Teaching and Religious Practice" because my final project focuses largely on Twain's view of Religion. The analogy between the Bible and a drug store tickled my funny bone but had me nodding along thinking, "So true, so true." I am Catholic but not a particular fan of organized religion. I believe that religion should be between a person and God and that there's no need to brag about going to church three days a week, mainly because the worst people in my town are all the people who go to church every Wednesday and Sunday and look down on those who don't. One girl who tried to steal my now ex-boyfriend by doing the most dreadful of things actually told me that I was going to hell because I swear like a sailor. Apparently do not covet thy neighbor's wife didn't mean anything to her?
People pick and choose which parts of the Bible to adhere to and it makes no sense to me. Interpretations are different too. Twain's description of the witch fiasco drives that home. People thought they were ridding the world of people who offend God but shouldn't murder of those people offend God? I am totally on Twain's side here.
In "The Turning-Point of my Life," Twain explains that the crossing of the Rubicon was the turning point because he, like so many others, was a result of that action. This first part of his essay really made me stop and think. You could drive yourself mad, living life thinking that way! "If only my grandpa had spotted the RIGHT 'girl in the green dress' then maybe I wouldn't have naturally meaty thighs." Obviously it is true that everything is an effect of something and a cause of something else, but Twain's portrayal of the crossing of the Rubicon really drove that home.
The second part of "The Turning-Point of my Life" had much more to do with Twain, describing how his case of the measles lead him to be the literary figure he became. I could easily connect with that, because had I not been bullied and teased in high school, I would not have become chemically addicted to exercise and had I not spent 2-3 hours in the gym nearly every day for four years, I would have broken my jaw, hip, and right knee when I was run over by a Range Rover my sophomore year of college. My doctor told me that my love of exercise saved my life. Funny how fate works!
"A Scrap of Curious History" interested me less than the previous reading because I had no personal connection to the stories mentioned, but one of the last paragraphs really pulled at my heart strings: "He was hanged. It was a mistake." I also appreciate the comparison between France and America and that Martyrdom is universal.
I was particularly excited by "Bible Teaching and Religious Practice" because my final project focuses largely on Twain's view of Religion. The analogy between the Bible and a drug store tickled my funny bone but had me nodding along thinking, "So true, so true." I am Catholic but not a particular fan of organized religion. I believe that religion should be between a person and God and that there's no need to brag about going to church three days a week, mainly because the worst people in my town are all the people who go to church every Wednesday and Sunday and look down on those who don't. One girl who tried to steal my now ex-boyfriend by doing the most dreadful of things actually told me that I was going to hell because I swear like a sailor. Apparently do not covet thy neighbor's wife didn't mean anything to her?
People pick and choose which parts of the Bible to adhere to and it makes no sense to me. Interpretations are different too. Twain's description of the witch fiasco drives that home. People thought they were ridding the world of people who offend God but shouldn't murder of those people offend God? I am totally on Twain's side here.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Pudd'nhill... I mean... Pudd'nhead Wilson
I cannot get the title of this story correct. I keep calling it "Pudd'nhill Wilson" because there is a fabulous little sandwich / chocolate shop in Greenville that my family loves stop at for lunch on our way to our lake house. I feel like I'm going to embarrass myself in class today by slipping up and referring to Mark Twain's piece at Pudd'nhill!
Now that that's out of the way, I am ready to discuss Pudd'nhead Wilson. First of all, for most of the book I was wondering why Twain chose to title the book Pudd'nhead when most of the story was about Roxy and "Tom." It wasn't until the last few chapters that I had the lightbulb moment.
I found the end quite satisfying, but predictable. I rarely fault anything for being predictable though - I hate that criticism about chick flicks, in particular. Hello! You're at a chick flick! Of course they're going to end up together! But, I digress. I was immensely pleased that "Tom" was sold down the river rather than be locked up in the slammer - having to be a slave after spending 23 years treating them so poorly was simply poetic.
The legal bits bored me compared to the rest of the story, to be quite honest. The twins weren't my favorite characters either. I much preferred the scenes with Roxy in them, because I found her terribly interesting. I also wish there was more of "Chambers" in the story - I felt like he was barely in it, except for the fact that he wasn't really Chambers!
The biggest surprise to me in this piece is that it is much more plot-driven than Twain's other Mississippi writings and he really doesn't go off on tangents and side-stories like in other books. It made for a fast and simple read.
All in all I enjoyed Pudd'nhead Wilson very much and continue to marvel at Twain's use of dialect. Anyone who wants to learn an accent needs to just pick up Pudd'nhead Wilson and read Roxy's monologues out loud again and again!
Now that that's out of the way, I am ready to discuss Pudd'nhead Wilson. First of all, for most of the book I was wondering why Twain chose to title the book Pudd'nhead when most of the story was about Roxy and "Tom." It wasn't until the last few chapters that I had the lightbulb moment.
I found the end quite satisfying, but predictable. I rarely fault anything for being predictable though - I hate that criticism about chick flicks, in particular. Hello! You're at a chick flick! Of course they're going to end up together! But, I digress. I was immensely pleased that "Tom" was sold down the river rather than be locked up in the slammer - having to be a slave after spending 23 years treating them so poorly was simply poetic.
The legal bits bored me compared to the rest of the story, to be quite honest. The twins weren't my favorite characters either. I much preferred the scenes with Roxy in them, because I found her terribly interesting. I also wish there was more of "Chambers" in the story - I felt like he was barely in it, except for the fact that he wasn't really Chambers!
The biggest surprise to me in this piece is that it is much more plot-driven than Twain's other Mississippi writings and he really doesn't go off on tangents and side-stories like in other books. It made for a fast and simple read.
All in all I enjoyed Pudd'nhead Wilson very much and continue to marvel at Twain's use of dialect. Anyone who wants to learn an accent needs to just pick up Pudd'nhead Wilson and read Roxy's monologues out loud again and again!
Monday, February 22, 2010
Interview with Mark Twain
I wrote this six page interview with Mark Twain for my Creative Nonfiction Workshop II class with Alex Lemon. We had to choose a person in history to interview and I chose Mark Twain solely so I could share it with everyone on my blog :)
Kate Watson
CNF Workshop II
February 21, 2010
Interview with Mark Twain
I must have looked nervous. I could feel myself twirling my hair self-consciously but had no power to stop myself. There I was, sitting in front of Mark Twain – Mark Twain! – or Samuel Langhorne Clemens, as he was known in his boyhood. He wore an all white suit with brass buttons and had graying dark hair. The crinkles around his eyes made him look downright jolly, as if he was going to break into laughter at the drop of a hat. The lines contrasted starkly with his dark, sincere eyes, the kind of eyes that seemed to look straight through you.
Twain coughed deliberately in an attempt to get my attention. I jolted in my seat. “I am so sorry, Mr. Twain! I am so very nervous to be in your presence.”
“Come now, dahlin’! I won’t bite!” he drawled with a smile. “Never in mah life have I seen such a shy interviewer! Get on with it, dahlin’!” His words may have been a touch insulting but his tone and manner made me relax. He was the kind of man who made you feel like you’ve known him your whole life.
“Well, I… I suppose we should start with, with um… your family?” I squeaked.
“Is that a question, dear, or a statement?” He paused. I must have look terrified, or mortified, or both. “Well, let us begin then with mah family. Mah dear sweet wife Olivia is the best mother this side of the Mississippi.”
I furiously scribbled notes, nodding. “And how many children do you have?”
“Three: Susy, Clara and Jean. Those girls are the little apples of these eyes,” he remarked while pointing at his right eye with his index finger. He chuckled.
“Did your daughters inspire you to write the children-centric novel Tom Sawyer?” I asked, this time without squeaking or stuttering.
He gestured to the cup of tea he had given me upon my arrival. Best this side of the Mississippi, he’d told me. I had yet to take a sip and that clearly wasn’t acceptable. I took a big gulp. Mr. Twain looked pleased.
“I wish I could say they inspired me to write Tom Sawyer but I am afraid they did not. You see, I was a bit of a rapscallion when I was young – well, I still am a bit of a rapscallion now that I think of it! – and I got into trouble of all sorts.”
“So… Tom Sawyer is you?” I had not ever even considered that!
He chuckled again, such a soothing chuckle. “Why yes, dahlin’, Tom Sawyer is me. And what messes I got into! Now, I might have embellished just a bit, to make my childhood a touch more interestin’, you see.”
I asked, “How much schooling did you have, Mr. Twain?”
Twain hesitated. I glanced around the extravagant house I was sitting in to conduct this interview. Mr. Twain’s house was three stories, nineteen rooms and the epitome of luxury. The marble floors kept my feet pleasantly cool on that warm summer’s day.
“Dahlin’ I had schooling until the ripe age of eleven, until mah father died of pneumonia and I had to join the work force. Everything I learned that is not taught in primary school I learned from livin’ life, talkin’ to interesting people and readin’ interesting books.”
“Mr. Twain, er, Clemens…” I paused. “I’ve noticed your accent comes in and out. Sometimes it’s more southern and other times you could pass for a New Englander!”
Twain found this very amusing. “Now I could never pass for a New Englander, darhlin’! I was born in Florida, Mississippi on November 30, 1847 and I grew up in Hannibal, Missouri, a port town on the Mississippi River. That’s the bona fide South, mah dear! But see, I got out of the South pretty quick and I pride myself on havin’ an ear for dialects and accents. I fancy writing in dialects and accents, too. I test them out and speak them out loud while I’m writing, of course, to make certain it’s real.” His accent may have sneaked in and out, but his speech was the slow, relaxed type found in the South.
“November thirtieth… wasn’t that-“
Twain interrupted me, clearly thrilled that I noticed the date. “November 30, 1835 was the day that Halley’s comet flew past the Earth. And I plan to live to see Halley’s comet again!” Halley’s comet only came by every seventy-five years but Twain seemed so sure of himself. He radiated good-natured confidence.
“Could we go back to Tom Sawyer for a bit?” I asked.
“Ah, right darlin’. Tom, Tom Sawyer. Me!”
I pondered a moment on what exactly I wanted to know, what my readers would want to know. “What characteristics of yours did you write into Tom’s character?”
He didn’t need the blink of an eye to think. “Well, Tom is a romantic. Now, he’s a bit skewed as to how a romantic behaves himself but I was too, at that age. He’s always fallin’ in love with beauties in the town. Only two romances are mentioned in the book but I imagined him to have many more.”
“So you’re a romantic as well?”
Twain glowed as he told me about Olivia. “Dahlin’, it was love at first sight when I first laid eyes on mah dear, sweet Olivia. Her brother, Charles, was a good friend of mine at the time and showed me a picture of her. Why she was the loveliest thing I had ever seen! She seemed to be 100% woman and 100% girl all at the same time. She never lost her imagination, her childhood spirit, her girlish giggles. We are kindred spirits that way. Neither Olivia nor I have forgotten how to laugh.” He paused a beat. “Now Tom is foolish, but so am I. We both get into trouble and sometimes, we’re both too creative for our own good!”
This sounded like an opportunity to inquire about the harsh social commentary apparent in his writings. “Mr. Twain, you often criticize ‘civilized’ people and organized religion as well as politics and, well, America society in general!”
“Now that’s not entirely fair, dahlin’. I criticized European society in Innocents Abroad, too!” He couldn’t even finish the sentence before chuckling. “I was brought up in a church so it’s not fair to say I haven’t a clue as to what I’m criticizin’. People try and say that, you see. They say I shouldn’t criticize things I know nothing about but I do know!”
I nodded. My hand was starting to ache from writing everything down. I took another sip of tea. This pleased him. “Your Cannibalism in the Cars, for example-“
“Was a piece written after talking to a gentleman over scotch one night,” Twain interrupted. “I frequent taverns while traveling around giving lectures, you see. Taverns are the greatest places, in mah opinion, to find the most interesting people. And interesting people tell interesting stories. And those stories need to be written down, by me.” He paused for a beat and said with a smile, “And perhaps embellished, just a little.” He winked at me, his dark eyes as bright as stars.
I just couldn’t let it go. “But… Cannibalism in the Cars involves politicians literally eating each other!”
“This gentleman – the one I drank scotch with – explained to me the uncouth nation of United States politicians. I thought it would make a fine story, seein’ as how the American people aren’t often made aware of their backstabbing behavior. But you can’t very well tell people in black and white, now can you? You have to spice things up a bit, to make them interesting. You have to add a little flair, a little cannibalism.”
I stared at Mr. Twain, enthralled. “So it’s really metaphorical cannibalism.” I suppose I meant it as a question, but it came out as more of a statement.
“Sure, dahlin’!” Twain winked jovially at me once more.
I tapped my pen on my notepad, thinking. “Mr. Twain, many people find The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to be…offensive.”
“I am aware.”
“…and…how do you feel about… about Huck Finn being banned from some libraries?”
“Well, I know the problem is the certain level of … vulgarity, particularly the-“
For the first time, I felt bold enough to interrupt Mr. Twain. “Please, sir. I know the word. No need to repeat it.”
Mr. Twain opened his mouth to speak but instead, narrowed his eyes with a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Ahh, so you mean to say that you are offended by the language in Huck Finn.” I opened my mouth to protest but he wouldn’t give me the chance. “In Huck Finn I wrote a true account of life in the south. I correctly represented the vernacular and ideologies of the area. So whomever that may offend is really offended by the people of the South, not by me.”
“That was very eloquently worded, Mr. Twain.”
“Daddy! Daddy!” a little girl’s voice echoed from the front room, where Olivia had entered with Mr. Twain’s three daughters. Jean, the youngest, ran into the study, where we were conducting the interview. She leapt into his lap and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him on both cheeks.
Twain was chuckling helplessly. It was easy to see how smitten he was by his daughters. “Well, hello, little Princess! Aren’t you excited to see me! You only left not four hours ago!” Olivia had taken the girls into town to go shopping so that her husband could have privacy for the interview. “Show me what your fine purchases might be!”
Jean scrambled off his lap and ran to fetch Olivia and the bags. She came back in with Twain’s other women in tow and asked for her shoes to show him. Olivia rummaged through the bags and pulled out a pair of little girls’ shoes. Twain squealed with delight and requested that Jean try them on. She did and spun around in little ballerina circles while Twain applauded her taste in shoes. Olivia stared at her husband adoringly throughout the episode. The Twain family may be wealthy in the economical sense, but it is their abundance of love that makes them rich.
I decided to thank Mr. Twain for his time and take my leave.
Kate Watson
CNF Workshop II
February 21, 2010
Interview with Mark Twain
I must have looked nervous. I could feel myself twirling my hair self-consciously but had no power to stop myself. There I was, sitting in front of Mark Twain – Mark Twain! – or Samuel Langhorne Clemens, as he was known in his boyhood. He wore an all white suit with brass buttons and had graying dark hair. The crinkles around his eyes made him look downright jolly, as if he was going to break into laughter at the drop of a hat. The lines contrasted starkly with his dark, sincere eyes, the kind of eyes that seemed to look straight through you.
Twain coughed deliberately in an attempt to get my attention. I jolted in my seat. “I am so sorry, Mr. Twain! I am so very nervous to be in your presence.”
“Come now, dahlin’! I won’t bite!” he drawled with a smile. “Never in mah life have I seen such a shy interviewer! Get on with it, dahlin’!” His words may have been a touch insulting but his tone and manner made me relax. He was the kind of man who made you feel like you’ve known him your whole life.
“Well, I… I suppose we should start with, with um… your family?” I squeaked.
“Is that a question, dear, or a statement?” He paused. I must have look terrified, or mortified, or both. “Well, let us begin then with mah family. Mah dear sweet wife Olivia is the best mother this side of the Mississippi.”
I furiously scribbled notes, nodding. “And how many children do you have?”
“Three: Susy, Clara and Jean. Those girls are the little apples of these eyes,” he remarked while pointing at his right eye with his index finger. He chuckled.
“Did your daughters inspire you to write the children-centric novel Tom Sawyer?” I asked, this time without squeaking or stuttering.
He gestured to the cup of tea he had given me upon my arrival. Best this side of the Mississippi, he’d told me. I had yet to take a sip and that clearly wasn’t acceptable. I took a big gulp. Mr. Twain looked pleased.
“I wish I could say they inspired me to write Tom Sawyer but I am afraid they did not. You see, I was a bit of a rapscallion when I was young – well, I still am a bit of a rapscallion now that I think of it! – and I got into trouble of all sorts.”
“So… Tom Sawyer is you?” I had not ever even considered that!
He chuckled again, such a soothing chuckle. “Why yes, dahlin’, Tom Sawyer is me. And what messes I got into! Now, I might have embellished just a bit, to make my childhood a touch more interestin’, you see.”
I asked, “How much schooling did you have, Mr. Twain?”
Twain hesitated. I glanced around the extravagant house I was sitting in to conduct this interview. Mr. Twain’s house was three stories, nineteen rooms and the epitome of luxury. The marble floors kept my feet pleasantly cool on that warm summer’s day.
“Dahlin’ I had schooling until the ripe age of eleven, until mah father died of pneumonia and I had to join the work force. Everything I learned that is not taught in primary school I learned from livin’ life, talkin’ to interesting people and readin’ interesting books.”
“Mr. Twain, er, Clemens…” I paused. “I’ve noticed your accent comes in and out. Sometimes it’s more southern and other times you could pass for a New Englander!”
Twain found this very amusing. “Now I could never pass for a New Englander, darhlin’! I was born in Florida, Mississippi on November 30, 1847 and I grew up in Hannibal, Missouri, a port town on the Mississippi River. That’s the bona fide South, mah dear! But see, I got out of the South pretty quick and I pride myself on havin’ an ear for dialects and accents. I fancy writing in dialects and accents, too. I test them out and speak them out loud while I’m writing, of course, to make certain it’s real.” His accent may have sneaked in and out, but his speech was the slow, relaxed type found in the South.
“November thirtieth… wasn’t that-“
Twain interrupted me, clearly thrilled that I noticed the date. “November 30, 1835 was the day that Halley’s comet flew past the Earth. And I plan to live to see Halley’s comet again!” Halley’s comet only came by every seventy-five years but Twain seemed so sure of himself. He radiated good-natured confidence.
“Could we go back to Tom Sawyer for a bit?” I asked.
“Ah, right darlin’. Tom, Tom Sawyer. Me!”
I pondered a moment on what exactly I wanted to know, what my readers would want to know. “What characteristics of yours did you write into Tom’s character?”
He didn’t need the blink of an eye to think. “Well, Tom is a romantic. Now, he’s a bit skewed as to how a romantic behaves himself but I was too, at that age. He’s always fallin’ in love with beauties in the town. Only two romances are mentioned in the book but I imagined him to have many more.”
“So you’re a romantic as well?”
Twain glowed as he told me about Olivia. “Dahlin’, it was love at first sight when I first laid eyes on mah dear, sweet Olivia. Her brother, Charles, was a good friend of mine at the time and showed me a picture of her. Why she was the loveliest thing I had ever seen! She seemed to be 100% woman and 100% girl all at the same time. She never lost her imagination, her childhood spirit, her girlish giggles. We are kindred spirits that way. Neither Olivia nor I have forgotten how to laugh.” He paused a beat. “Now Tom is foolish, but so am I. We both get into trouble and sometimes, we’re both too creative for our own good!”
This sounded like an opportunity to inquire about the harsh social commentary apparent in his writings. “Mr. Twain, you often criticize ‘civilized’ people and organized religion as well as politics and, well, America society in general!”
“Now that’s not entirely fair, dahlin’. I criticized European society in Innocents Abroad, too!” He couldn’t even finish the sentence before chuckling. “I was brought up in a church so it’s not fair to say I haven’t a clue as to what I’m criticizin’. People try and say that, you see. They say I shouldn’t criticize things I know nothing about but I do know!”
I nodded. My hand was starting to ache from writing everything down. I took another sip of tea. This pleased him. “Your Cannibalism in the Cars, for example-“
“Was a piece written after talking to a gentleman over scotch one night,” Twain interrupted. “I frequent taverns while traveling around giving lectures, you see. Taverns are the greatest places, in mah opinion, to find the most interesting people. And interesting people tell interesting stories. And those stories need to be written down, by me.” He paused for a beat and said with a smile, “And perhaps embellished, just a little.” He winked at me, his dark eyes as bright as stars.
I just couldn’t let it go. “But… Cannibalism in the Cars involves politicians literally eating each other!”
“This gentleman – the one I drank scotch with – explained to me the uncouth nation of United States politicians. I thought it would make a fine story, seein’ as how the American people aren’t often made aware of their backstabbing behavior. But you can’t very well tell people in black and white, now can you? You have to spice things up a bit, to make them interesting. You have to add a little flair, a little cannibalism.”
I stared at Mr. Twain, enthralled. “So it’s really metaphorical cannibalism.” I suppose I meant it as a question, but it came out as more of a statement.
“Sure, dahlin’!” Twain winked jovially at me once more.
I tapped my pen on my notepad, thinking. “Mr. Twain, many people find The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to be…offensive.”
“I am aware.”
“…and…how do you feel about… about Huck Finn being banned from some libraries?”
“Well, I know the problem is the certain level of … vulgarity, particularly the-“
For the first time, I felt bold enough to interrupt Mr. Twain. “Please, sir. I know the word. No need to repeat it.”
Mr. Twain opened his mouth to speak but instead, narrowed his eyes with a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Ahh, so you mean to say that you are offended by the language in Huck Finn.” I opened my mouth to protest but he wouldn’t give me the chance. “In Huck Finn I wrote a true account of life in the south. I correctly represented the vernacular and ideologies of the area. So whomever that may offend is really offended by the people of the South, not by me.”
“That was very eloquently worded, Mr. Twain.”
“Daddy! Daddy!” a little girl’s voice echoed from the front room, where Olivia had entered with Mr. Twain’s three daughters. Jean, the youngest, ran into the study, where we were conducting the interview. She leapt into his lap and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him on both cheeks.
Twain was chuckling helplessly. It was easy to see how smitten he was by his daughters. “Well, hello, little Princess! Aren’t you excited to see me! You only left not four hours ago!” Olivia had taken the girls into town to go shopping so that her husband could have privacy for the interview. “Show me what your fine purchases might be!”
Jean scrambled off his lap and ran to fetch Olivia and the bags. She came back in with Twain’s other women in tow and asked for her shoes to show him. Olivia rummaged through the bags and pulled out a pair of little girls’ shoes. Twain squealed with delight and requested that Jean try them on. She did and spun around in little ballerina circles while Twain applauded her taste in shoes. Olivia stared at her husband adoringly throughout the episode. The Twain family may be wealthy in the economical sense, but it is their abundance of love that makes them rich.
I decided to thank Mr. Twain for his time and take my leave.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Huck Finn
It turns out I prefer Tom Sawyer to Huck Finn. I hadn't read either since middle school and I thought I liked them both equally, if not Huck Finn more , but upon second reading, I like Tom Sawyer considerably more.
Huck is a great sidekick, I think, but he lacks the onion-layers to be a strong leading character. This book is also more difficult to read because speed-reading really isn't an option with the way Jim speaks. Sometimes I get so bogged down, I have to read out loud to make sense of it!
I've just gotten to the point where Huck decides that the duke really isn't a duke at all. Huck Finn also lacks and interesting plot. (We discussed in class that Tom Sawyer arguably lacks plot as well but TS has WAY more of a plot that HF, what with the love story between Tom and Becky and the murder of Dr. Robinson.) Maybe it's the fact that HF is written in first person that makes it less interesting. I'd rather hear MT's commentary than Huck's thoughts.
I should clarify that I don't DISLIKE Huck Finn by any means. It's entertaining and fun and Jim's thick dialect adds depth. Hopefully it will pick up soon!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tom Sawyer
I adore Tom Sawyer. I always have.
I read the book for the first time probably in middle school, if not around sixth grade. I knew the story before then though. My brother played Tom Sawyer in a one-act play when he was in middle school and he told me the whole story. Usually stories are better when told by my brother but I remember not at all being disappointed when I read TS.
I feel like TS evokes a lot of personal memories. I wonder if it's that way for everyone or just me... I was always adventurous and a dreamer. It would have suited me just fine to run off and be a pirate for a couple of days. (I ran away once when I was very young but only made it to my fort in the back because I remembered I wasn't allowed to cross the street without an adult and I was not about to disobey a rule.)
I love Tom's character, to start. He's clever and adventuresome and that perfect balance of a good-bad boy that I have always loved. Ten year old me definitely had a crush on Tom. I also love that the book is largely for entertainment value. I like Twain's ability to spend pages talking about totally normal things, like children's make believe Robin Hood games.
I chose TS for my Lead Respondent project because of my previous admiration for this novel. I could really go on and on talking about it, but since I already spent the majority of class talking about it, I will shall some of my favorite quotes from TS, something I wish I had discussed more. (For some reason I sort of skimmed over the quotes section and realized it after I had already sat down. Whoops!)
“He had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing – namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain.” (Twain 20)
“Now he found out a new thing – namely, that to promise not to do a thing is the surest way in the world to make a body want to go and do that very thing.” (Twain 139)
“She would be sorry some day – maybe when it was too late. Ah, if he could only die temporarily!” (Twain 59)
“There comes a time in every rightly constructed boy’s life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure.” (Twain 150)
I definitely felt the need to go off and have adventures and find treasure when I was little, so I resent this last quote is exclusive to boys. Although my mom jokes that I was raised by my older brother, who pretty much adored me the minute he met me and dubbed me "his baby" from then on. I was a total tomboy when I was younger, played with boy toys, watched boy cartoons and grew up to be able to kick any of my brother's friends' butts at several video games.
The latter is statement is rather sad, though. I feel like nowadays kids have their adventures through computers INSTEAD of living them. I appreciate that I was the bridge between the two, since computers came into popular/common use around middle school, so at least my elementary years were spent outside. My twelve year old nephew, however, has spent his entire childhood thus far staring at his glowing screen which I think is criminal. His birthday is in May... maybe I should buy him Tom Sawyer :)
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County
I giggled out loud reading "he never betrayed the slightest suspicion of enthusiasm" because it reminded me of Alan Rickman's portrayal of Professor Snape in Harry Potter, which I just watched yesterday.
One thing I enjoy about this piece and all of Mark Twain's works is that although his character are ridiculous, they are also so familiar. Don't we all know someone of the above description? Don't we all know of a reverend who gambles on everything, including whether or not a woman will pull through an illness? Didn't we all know a little mischievous boy who picked fights with everyone, such as Tom Sawyer? I feel like his characters are caricatures of people that Twain's audience know and that hasn't changed in the hundred years since Twain lived.
Twain's style makes me smile. (Are your corners twitching upwards because that rhymed? I hope so!) His works just scream "READ ME OUT LOUD! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!" He writes as if he's speaking to rather than writing to you. For example, "...and kicking up m-or-e dust and raising m-o-r-e racket with her coughing and sneezing and blowing her nose." I so wish I could jump back in time and hear Mark Twain read any of his works at one of those "the trouble starts at 8" events.
The pup with no hind legs upset me a bit; I found myself grimacing at the mental image he painted. But, to Twain's credit, he always paints a vivid picture without at all overwhelming the reader with unnecessary adjectives.
I also admire Twain's ability to create stories out of the tiniest things, such as this jumping frog. I find the following line particularly amusing: "He can out jump any frog in Calaveras County." I just imagined the smug voice of Smiley, sounding like a proud parent gushing about his kid's math scores. After all, a frog SHOULD shine in the realm of jumping! And how does one even go about accurately measuring any one frog's jump against another's?
Ah, but the loveliness in Twain's lying characters. Twain must have found great joy in deception, as many of his characters have this bad-boy quality. I liked the ending of Jumping Frog for the simple fact that you can imagine future stories about Jim/Leonidas W. Smiley. The adventures never end for Twain's characters!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Introduction
This is my first blog entry!
The first reading for my Roman Traditions class with Scott Williams was an excerpt from Mark Twain's Innocence Abroad, which I found hilariously ironic considering I have never read a Mark Twain piece in college and all of a sudden he's popping up in all of my classes in addition to this class!
The first reading for my Roman Traditions class with Scott Williams was an excerpt from Mark Twain's Innocence Abroad, which I found hilariously ironic considering I have never read a Mark Twain piece in college and all of a sudden he's popping up in all of my classes in addition to this class!
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