The Son, The Father

“My Son, My Executioner” (1955) - Donald Hall

“My son, my executioner,

I take you in my arms,

Quiet and small and just astir,

And whom my body warms.

Sweet death, small son, our instrument

Of immortality,

Your cries and hungers document

Our bodily decay.

We twenty-five and twenty-two,

Who seemed to live forever,

Observe enduring life in you

And start to die together.”

Donald Hall narrates an eccentric and somewhat mournful coming of age story through this poem. Typically such a theme would present itself in a tale of adolescence, and the transformation from teenager to what is deemed adulthood. Hall redefines adulthood as the point where one has a child or children. The speaker's son “documents [his] bodily decay,” or rather a conversion from growth to deterioration, or from youth to adulthood. As he realizes that he is now old enough to have a son, he also realizes his mortality. He states that his son serves as evidence of his long journey towards death from childhood. Hall also admits that with the birth of a son, the patriarch may live on metaphorically by a continuation of the bloodline, ideas, and traditions, while physically dead. With the narrator's genealogical duty fulfilled by procreating it is almost as if he now has permission to die, as he embraces “sweet death” and “starts to die together” with his wife. More or less these are both honest descriptions of how he feels towards aging and his role as a father in life.

The use of both true rhymes and “sound” rhymes make Hall's poem effective in delivering the theme without a distracting tone or rhythm. In the first two stanzas Hall uses an “a-b-a-b” pattern, with “a's” being the sound rhyme and “b's” the true or slant rhyme. The imperfection of the slant and true rhymes make them less noticeable, which allows the poem to flow more naturally. The last stanza has only sound rhymes, this places emphasis on the last and most poignant lines. Hall also brilliantly toys with contrasting ideas and imagery. “Sweet death” and “My son, my executioner” are almost oxymoronic phrases considering the popular conceptions of both death and children. These opposing words placed side by side make powerful lines that immediately capture the reader's attention. By utilizing both of these strategies in poetry writing, I can evolve my composition from mere elementary rhymes, to those that can carry meaning and involve the audience.

We Like It Wild

“If We Must Die” (1922) - Claude McKay

“If we must die, let it not be like hogs

Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,

While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,

Making their mock at our accursed lot.

If we must die, O let us nobly die,

So that our precious blood may not be shed

In vain; then even the monsters we defy

Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!

O kinsmen! We must meet the common foe!

Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,

And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow!

What though before us lies the open grave?

Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,

Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!”

This poem reminds me very much of Beowulf, and yes makes me want to crush a Coke can against my head and scream very loudly. This of course evokes the imagery of Beowulf fighting his last distinguished battle to the death at a ripe old age. Written shortly after WWI, the poem most likely summarizes the immensity and scope of such a war, and the sharp division, and contrastingly the brotherhood that inevitably occurred as well. One thing that is usually said of poetry is that it attempts to ward off apathy, indifference, and complacency. At the very least I can say that “If We Must Die” achieves this. I realize that I am writing a purely emotional response, but everything about this poem quickens the blood, and allows adrenaline to flow easily. Thematically it recalls the age old need of men to make legacies. Similar to another poem I analyzed in a previous blog post, “Ulysses,” “If We Must Die” contains the same imperialistic, testosterone-filled musings. Likewise, Heart of Darkness also possesses the same themes against mortal flaws. Ultimately this piece is just another in a vast collection of pieces based on the popular views of the time. How starkly it differentiates from modern sentiments; passionate then, while we are now passionless.

As mentioned above this poem conjures images of limitless unity and admirable temerity. Only through the perfection of rhyme, rhythm, and the use of inclusive pronouns does McKay successfully accomplish this. To establish such smooth and natural rhythm, McKay adapts the sonnet to fit his needs. McKay uses the usual a-b-a-b, c-d-c-d, e-f-e-f, g-g rhyming pattern of the sonnet, but deviates occasionally from iambic pentameter. As a line contains more than ten syllables, McKay places emphasis on an important phrase to incite the reader, such as with the final line of the poem. Also “making their mock at our accursed lot” contains rhyme in the same line, as if to provoke anger in the reader, as the tone drips with disdain. More importantly than all these factors McKay utilizes inclusive pronouns to unify the reader with the content of the text, and make the work more emotionally appealing in general. As an amateur writer I think that I tend to shy away from inclusive pronouns, as I fear misuse and being inadvertently cliché. However, I feel that McKay provides a perfect example of how inclusive pronouns ought to be used in writing.

Connections to Emphasis on Death in Literature and Human Reality

"This Is a Photograph of Me" (1966) - Margaret Atwood

"(The photograph was taken

the day after I drowned.

I am in the lake, in the center

of the picture, just under the surface.

It is difficult to say where

precisely, or to say

how large or small I am:

the effect of water

on light is a distortion

but if you look long enough,

eventually

you will be able to see me.)"

The intimate self reflections that flow through the poem, make it clear that Margaret Atwood uses the classic Greek myth of Narcissus to make assertions about current pyschological climates within our society. Narcissus fell in love with his reflection so much that he could not stop staring at his reflection in a lake, finally he met his death as he tried to join with it. Obviously in content „This Is a Photograph of Me“ parallels that of Narcissus, as Atwood nonchalantly describes the drowned body of a person in a picture.The first-person perspective of the poem, and the central focus of the body in the captured scene helps to convey the self-obsession apparent in Narcissus. The fact the poem describes a photo reflects modern obsession with pictures and filming oneself and the moments that comprise a life, and put undue emphasis on one person's existence, just as Narcissus did. However, while the narrator's focus is on his or her dead body, with lines like "It is difficult to say where precisely, or to say how large or small I am," and "the effect of water on light is a distortion" tell the audience that the body may not be visually evident or major in the photo being described. These facts translate Atwood's main theme. By relating the poem to the tale of Narcissus, the reader can infer that the narrator's death was self-imposed, like that of suicide. Although contrastingly the scene does not revolve around the death, only its telling. This gives the message that suicide and death do not stop the world, nor perhaps majorly affect it, but does seep through eventually. In the end we can see that the narrator's body represents the inevitable, as it was for Narcissus, but without the permanance and vanity that most people fantasize and imagine. The slow realization of death, as with the realization of a dead body in a picturesque landscape, without emphasis or immense importance thus becomes more horrifying than the tragic and poetic deaths we all dream of. 

The first person perspective within this poem, gives it the eccentricity that makes it so effective. The reader pays attention to the narrator foremost in the poem, allowing for the themes to become more subtle. This subtlety of theme reflects the subtlety of death, thus making the poem more striking, as the audience slowly comes to the truth just as the narrator describes in the poem "eventually you will be able to see me.“ The first person perspective also makes the narrator's dead body less dramatic and important. Third person views in such matters make death seem grand, poetic, and meaningful which would be the opposite of what Atwood wishes to convey to her readers, and would simply be copying the significance of Narcissus, instead of being ironic in connection to it. I believe that the first person perspective is often avoided in poetry, because it is so hard to effectively pull off, and because the imagery of the third person is so appealing to mere mortals. Using it in such a way makes Atwood brave and daring in her exploits to expose the human condition and reality of nature in her poem.

Triumphant Change

"Africa" (1975) - Maya Angelou

“Thus she had lain

sugar cane sweet

deserts her hair

golden her feet

mountains her breasts

two Niles her tears

Thus she has lain

Black through the years.

Over the white seas

rime white and cold

brigands ungentled

icicle bold

took her young daughters

sold her strong sons

churched her with Jesus

bled her with guns.

Thus she has lain.

Now she is rising

remember her pain

remember the losses

her screams loud and vain

remember her riches

her history slain

now she is striding

although she had lain.”

Angelou obviously speaks to the long and brutal history of African slaves and their descendants. She incorporates geographic imagery while describing physical characteristics in order to introduce African ancestry, such as “deserts,” “mountains,” and “Niles.” Accurately portraying the white captors of her race, Maya Angelou associates white with the cold harshness of winter precipitation and brewing ocean waves. These associations define not only the white man's cruelty, but also the Middle Passage and the change in climate for African slaves. Each stanza represents a particular phase in African history. The first stanza depicts the homeland: warm, beautiful, natural. The second stanza relates the horrors of slavery: the seizure, and decades of implications. The third expresses a present victory for those of African descent, overcoming tremendous abuse and racism, to becoming free and proud in society.

Some techniques that caught my eye in “Africa” were the use of past versus present tense in repeating lines, and effective rhyming schemes. Angelou constantly reuses “Thus she had lain,” and “Thus she has lain.” throughout her poem. Mostly the author does this to signify what has and hasn't changed in society for those of African descent. When describing skin color she uses “has lain,” to imply that race has been constant through the years. Also when recounting the history of African slaves she utilizes the present “has lain,” to convey to the reader that history cannot be changed. However, Angelou applies the past tense “had lain” to “sugar cane sweet” and after “now she is striding.” This demonstrates a change from passive acceptance of abuse, to firm strength and placement in society of African Americans, and those of African descent everywhere. The differentiation between the past and present helps to effectively impart thematic meaning to the reader through repetition, and the subtle distinctions between “has” and “had.” Also Angelou purposely employs a discordant rhyming scheme within the first two stanzas to create certain tones and themes, allowing for an ultimate catharsis for the reader. By using limited rhyming within the first few stanzas, the consistent rhyming in the last stanza becomes significant, and catches the audience's attention. The persistent and unchanging rhymes in the end also mirror the tone of triumphant liberation from caged desperation. With strength, the rhyme ties up the last stanza and accents the reoccurring line “she had lain,” making the poem dramatic and effective to the end. The concept of varying rhyming and repetition intrigues and surprises me. I am stunned how such easy tools could be so ingenious and emphatic. Obviously the use of the same tactics in writing could help to make themes more potent, without being overly unctuous.

Autumn Mourning

“Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling—” (1862) - Emily Dickinson

“Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling—

Sometimes—scalps a Tree—

Her Green People recollect it

When they do not die—

Fainter leaves—to Further Seasons—

Dumbly testify—

We—who have the Souls—

Die oftener—Not so vitally—”

Emily Dickinson relates God to Mother Nature in the confines of this secure and beautiful poem. An up and coming philosophy of the mid-1800s, naturalism is employed in a great deal of Dickinson's work. She sees and pays tribute to the great suffering of man, and the reality of existence. Often Dickinson does speak to the wonders of love, but not without the poignancy of impermanence. More specifically this poem deals with the concept of mortal life after death like many of Dickinson's poems; such as “I heard a Fly buzz—when I died—” and “The Bustle in a House.” Communicating the frequent state of apathy toward death, Dickinson also relays the pain felt by those who are forced to live in the absence of others. As “fainter leaves” are recycled and give life to “further seasons,” those who feel grief from a comprehension of past summers and springs “die oftener,” while living in a wintry void. The last line defines suffering as the act of dying without the relief of actually expiring; to die while living. Dickinson expresses how Nature's course is the cruelest and the most unbearable. A sapling is seared, and a tree scalped, so that more verdant things may live. In other words, life subsists on the products of death. Similar to Disappearance of the Universe, the poem contains a theme that conveys how nothing is beautiful, not even in nature, as life comprises suffering, and death, tragedy.

In translating her timeless messages to an embittered world, Dickinson relied heavily on her numerous skills as a poet. Dickinson doubles the effectiveness of this poem by personifying improper nouns. This practice makes inanimate objects human, and therefore worthy of the reader's sympathy and connection. She also eases in her harsh themes through use of impeccable rhythm. Using hyphens to separate significant clauses and fragments, she makes beautiful phrases unforgettable, such as “scalps a Tree,” “dumbly testify,” “die oftener.” These separations also place emphasis on important words like “we,” in order to include the reader with the fate of trees. The separation of clauses and fragments adds to the natural and magnetic rhythm of the poem. By cutting clauses into syllables instead of lines, thus allowing the reader to give pause to certain ideas and thoughts by means other than increasing line number. While disjointed in the use of hyphens, Dickinson reconnects the reader and specific phrases with alliteration. Even though the fragment “fainter leaves” is physically separated from “to further seasons,” they are both connected mentally in the readers mind with the phonetic 'f' sound. Dickinson does this to empower distinct diction, while remaining accessible to audiences. Alliteration also aids in creating a smooth-flowing rhythm. “Sometimes sears a sapling” roles right off the tongue, and reverberates easily in the mind. All of these tools could be useful in enhancing creative writing, and making it as precise as possible.

Forgive Me, For I Know Not What I've Done

“How to Write the Great American Indian Novel” - Sherman Alexie

Alexie employs the varied stereotypes concerning American Indians that have been compiled over the many centuries from literature, song, and film to create an honest and sorrowful commentary on the relationship between American Indians and European Americans. Throughout the duration of the poem the author refers to these stereotypes as if a “Great American Indian Novel” has already been written, as if many have been written. When he concludes the poems he reveals that there is yet to be “the Great American Indian Novel,” because there are Americans Indians still alive. Alexie wittingly alludes to the facts that Europeans have driven the Native Americans from their land, and quite nearly destroyed their culture, in the Age of Discovery. Now as European Americans we are destroying their culture still through a strange commercial fascination of the civilization we were so apt to annihilate a few hundred year ago. As “white” Americans we crave the meaning, mysticism, and spirituality that the American Indians hold. There is also a part of our heritage in which we desire to be forgiven for past grievances. The cost to obtain what we yearn is assimilation, and further destruction. We have made true American Indians ashamed of their origin, because we have distorted the cultural meaning that once defined them through years of abuse. Kids don't want to grow up to be a cliché, they want to grow up to be normal. So many American Indians purge themselves of their abused lineage. Jenny Ray, an American Indian, travels the country trying to rejuvenate the lost meaning of her culture, even her children refuse to accept her long held traditions, because of the derogatory nature of the United States' history. We have taken characteristics from certain tribes, and types of American Indians and applied them to every person with ancestral blood in America. Everyday the demographics show that American Indian tribes are only decreasing in number. Sherman Alexie states that the time in which a book about American Indians will be popular will be the time when there are none left, after which all of the cultures of every tribe will be reduced to mere stereotypes.

Los Dulces de Guerra

“Dulce et Decorum Est” - Wilfred Owen

What a profoundly powerful and scarring poem this is. The point of view of the narrator is inescapable. There is truly no way in which anyone could ever look through their eyes while reading this poem. Although Owen describes such a horrid and gruesome event, the poem embraces an effortless rhythm and rhyme. Limitless chaos and torment somehow fit into these complaisant little boxes. The containment of World War I into this neat and traditional structure alludes to the very nature of war, as something that is planned and organized, but contains atrocities beyond the imagination. In this way the traditional poetic structure helps the reader to share a small portion of the severe impact of being a soldier. We as readers start to ask the same questions: Who could arrange such a thing? Why did this have to happen? But through piercing images that transform rapidly from a surreal stream of concurrent events, into a shatteringly real depiction of war, and violence in general. Specific poetic syntax in Owen's introduction, that of sentence fragments and word pairs, creates imagery that strikes the mind. Phrases such as “bent-double,” “knock-kneed,” “blood-shod,” and “all blind,” pummel the mind into attentiveness. Once Owen has grasped the reader's attention, he then proceeds to describe the scene with brutal intricacy. In some way or another Owen has found the strength to put to paper the memory of a fellow soldier slowly dying from chlorine gas. However, without these seizing images the poem would lose its weight. Owen's use of classical literature makes the poem timeless. He expertly defines the bane of the land of men since the age of hominids. Never have I read a more unsubtle, yet poignant poem regarding the placement of aspirations versus reality; politician versus victim. In just a few short stanzas Owen identifies the unseen predicament of his era and all of history, “children ardent for some desperate glory,” a time of con men fighting for dominance in the world, with the blood of naive and willing patriots.

Seasonal Revelations from Diction and Syntax

“in Just-” - e.e. cummings

To recall innocence from the memories of the audience, e.e. cummings rebirths the traditional poem in his allusions to spring. The author throws away boxes, and reinvents words to bring the reader back to their childhood. Recollecting youthful pastimes like “hop-scotch” and “jump-rope,” e.e. cummings creates his own adjectives such as “mud-luscious” and “puddle-wonderful” to describe an infantile spring. Nostalgic, yet creative spacing in the poem leaves room for juvenile excitement and imagination. The absence of a space such as “eddieandbill” illustrates that of two boys running close together, doing everything together, as a childhood friendship can only allow. Open spaces portrays various other adolescent activities. If e.e. cummings had drawn in and around the open spaces in his poem there would be children jumping, and a balloon man calling out to them, however, e.e. cummings left those areas blank. He doesn't want you to see children jumping he wants you to jump, to hear the balloon man for yourself; he wants you to be a child once more. Still his vernal playtime image is not yet complete. In every other stanza he duplicates the scene of the “little lame baloonman,” “the queer and old baloonman,” and finally “the goat-footed baloonMan.” Cleverly e.e. cummings alludes to the Greek God Pan, the symbol of spring, to conclude his representation of the season. Half-man and half-goat balloon man watches over the immature children giving them their happiness and pure, lyrical innocence (“in Just-” is also referred to as “Chansons Innocentes I”), but remains detached from the experience similar to that of a parent or guardian. So not only does e.e. cumming recapture the resilience and delight of childhood motion, but he contrasts it to the calm and inferior contentment of adulthood responsibility. Through this e.e. cummings depicts the importance of not only receiving spring as a child, but dispensing spring as an adult.

Non-Communication::Family Disease

“A Primer for the Punctuation of Heart Disease” - Johnathan Safran Foer

This deeply detached, yet highly emotional short story illustrates, quite literally, the origins of heart disease for a Jewish-American family scarred by personal history. The genius of the piece is associating something that is normally dissected through scientific and medical knowledge, and puts it through the sieve of human emotion. Foer then takes this intense and unforgettable emotion and strains it back through that impersonal and categorical filter of pictographs and definition, thus making it all the more emotionally intricate. The author makes use of literal symbols to create literary symbolism. Foer knows all too well that trying to explain the actions and emotions of his daily life would not only be fruitless and ineffective, but contradictory as well. By using shapes, he allows his audience to envision a situation that they can better relate to, instead of telling the reader what to see. The application of graphics instead of commonly used words and phrases, also mirrors the communication barriers that he tries to describe. Ultimately in the end we see a combination of undefined and unrecognizable symbols that more aptly and beautifully portrays their tragic circumstances than any word ever could. The myriad hieroglyphics and unspoken words, represent unresolved chaos that piles up in each member's heart, eventually manifesting itself in physical infirmity. The emotional pressures of historical horrors and ongoing disappointments of this family are so desperately piercing as to have disabled them from living fully. The narrator describes the thought of compromise and “the 'corroboration mark'” as suffocatingly depressing, as he ponders his own fate. He knows that the “yes-man” mentality will follow him forever because the alternative is death, or near death, due to the contingency of a heart attack; and so he is doomed to a mediocre, sorrowful, unquestioning, and unfulfilled life. This emotion stagnancy is the foundation of his heart disease, a disease that has become the basis of his family relations and his overall existence in a “↓↓↓↓↓... ∞.”

Hauntingly Inclusive

“A Good Man Is Hard To Find” by Flannery O' Connor

A good deal of what made this story surprising was the fact that it was so predictable. You almost expect the expected to not occur, but it ultimately does. It creates a false sense of irony, through our expectations as people in daily life, and our expectations as readers. As people we all hold ourselves to be above statistics. For the most part we do not hope, we genuinely believe that we are above tragedy. I am sure that many who read the story find elements that resonate with their own lives, the old-fashioned grandmother, difficult children, family tensions, and what have you. But as readers we try to leave most of that behind, and confront a text objectively and rationally. The child who sees a familiar family of six does not want to think of them as the victims of violence, but the reader undoubtedly knows that they will be due to the repeated and unsubtle hints to their future, in the text. However, I did find those two mind sets dueling with each other towards the end, in a desperate desire for a happy ending. I think there is a part of all of us which is occasionally inclined to feel that way. I believe that is part of the brilliance of the irony employed in the story, because we all know what will happen, but we fight to extinguish that knowledge. Which puts us as readers in a more direct contact with the family of characters, and leads to a greater awareness of our placement in the world. We know straight from the beginning of story that something horrid will happen, from the grandmother's dread, the repeated allusions to a serial killer, and lamentations over the past versus the present. Even up to the moment when the narrator reveals that the men in the car have guns, do we hope that the family will merely be saved from their recent accident. Every victim has the same thoughts as the reader at this point. Of course the emotions of a real victim are much more intense than that of the reader, but every victim thinks that it can't happen to them, until it does. Creating that same mentality in the reader, O' Connor also instills an inevitable sense of understanding to her audience, thus making her work immensely effective. This transference of emotion from character to reader produces a greater desire on the part of the reader to explain the actions of The Misfit, in search of a befitting meaning. The Misfit is simply a person who has been corrupted by the concept of Christ, and therefore attempts to amend what he perceives as errors made by Jesus through his own delusional logic. More than once he states that Jesus has created an imbalance, and believes that his actions have saved the old woman he killed. In a haze of confusion, The Misfit considers his sins as the solution to a faith system. By killing a man you can send him to God, and prove that he exists, and if he doesn't exist then we are all doomed anyway. The Misfit parades and wallows in his own angst. His doubt in the existence of God, has shattered the concept of normal living to him, and anyone who does live normally becomes a threat to him. As he endangers the life of the grandmother he determines that her actions before her death have proved what kind of woman she truly is; someone who is not misguided past events, or obligation. In that way The Misfit is his own Christ figure. The grandmother stops to think of those other than herself, and soon dismisses her long held beliefs. “Maybe He didn't raise the dead,” the grandmother exclaims in reference to Jesus. This statement reassures The Misfit in his actions, and empowers him to continue. She is also willing to accept a total stranger as her own son. The Misfit believes he has led her to be a great person, but in his own insanity ignores the fact that she has merely been traumatized into a state of delusion herself. The end result is that of lingering unease and chaos, as so many, including the reader, are swept into an unfading and irreconcilable nightmare.

The Varsity Drag

“I think Laura has just gone to hell. Hades, actually, the classical underworld, the realm of the dead. Not only that, she hasn't gone as Laura Sheridan, but as Persephone... Persephone's mother is Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, fertility, and marriage... Remember: the guests admiring the flowers at Mrs. Sheridan's garden party go about in couples, as if she has in some way been responsible for their pairing off...” - Chapter Twenty-Seven: “A Test Case” pages 273-274

First off I would like to say that any grievances that I mentioned earlier concerning inaccuracies and oversights have been atoned for by this last chapter, that along with the apology Foster issues in Envoi. I thought Foster's analysis was nearly flawless, and the fact that he gave me the opportunity to read “The Garden Party” by Katherine Mansfield made the whole book worthwhile. I don't think that I would ever read it more than once, but the overall experience was constructive. However, there were some elements of the story that Foster could have taken the opportunity to elaborate on. The analysis that Foster provides perceptively uses every detail to confirm his argument, yet he doesn't seem to relate what the use of that specific Greek myth asserts in terms of social context. What does it mean when Mansfield portrays the elite and wealthy as Gods and their impoverished counterparts as the inhabitants of hell? She means just that. The ultimate luxury of the rich is the ability to live life as you please, the option of affording yourself every possible materialistic wonder, and more importantly the leisure of being apathetic to the woes of the world. Mrs. Sheridan can't care for the death of a mere carter down the street, because she is a god. Her prosperity cannot allow her to feel sorrow, because to do so would be denying her monetary powers. In her eyes it would be the same as eating out of a dumpster, when she can afford to eat from diamond encrusted china. She need not stoop to such emotion, so why should she? The rich can afford to be frivolous with life, and as Mrs. Sheridan begins to shape Laura, that is exactly the sort of image she takes away from her journey: that life is frivolous, because in the end Mr. Scott can't care about anything either, so why should we? In contrast, however, we see the gap in responsibility of which Mrs. Scott will have to fill, and the children who may starve. What makes this difference in perspective? Hell, reality, whatever synonym you like. The working class do not have the means to luxuriate in droll illusions. That truly is what creates the class system, the separation between fantasy and reality; paradise and hell.

Physicality In Literary Signification

“Are deformities and scars therefore always significant? Perhaps not. Perhaps sometimes a scar is simply a scar, a short leg or a hunchback merely that. But more often than not physical markings by their very nature call attention to themselves and signify some psychological or thematic point the writer wants to make. After all it's easier to introduce characters without imperfections.” -  Chapter Twenty-One: “Marked for Greatness” page 200

What is easier for an author? Of course this varies from person to person, but I would think the creation of perfect characters would be more difficult, than that of imperfect characters. Since perfection has never been reached, how can one write of it? More pertinent would be the degree to which they are damaged, and at what point in the novel the writer inflicts such damage. Were they scarred by birth, or later in life? If later in life when, and at what point in the novel? Is it merely a scar, freckles, a birthmark? Or loss of limb, severe burns, or boils? Self-inflicted? Each state of being in context can enlighten the reader further in matters such as symbolism, theme, plot development, and so on. Take Tuesday Lobsang Rampa's The Third Eye, for example. A young Tibetan boy, has every possibility laid out to him, he was fortunate to be born into a wealthy family, and career opportunities were seemingly endless. As he chooses to become a monk, much to the vexation of his family, the boy is thrust into adversity. The routine of pain and silence defines his life as he progresses with his studies. One day he makes the mindless error of tripping and falling onto a portion of the heated furnace, during his cooking duties. His overwhelming dedication and suffering further develops his spirituality, and promotes in terms of his responsibilities as a monk. Ultimately that one scar catalyzes the entirety of his spiritual journey, as the event behind the scar comes to symbolize the first of the Four Noble Truths. As readers we must also take into account physical appearance in general, and even the evolution of physical deformity or beauty. In Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter, Roger Chillingworth's skin complexion and overall appearance gradually changes to mirror his sinister actions and intentions, while that of Arthur Dimmesdale is increasingly seen as a martyr and a saint by his congregation, due to his physical and emotional ailments. An author could quite easily make a seemingly perfect character, but only to subvert our initial reactions, or offer commentary on popular clichés. In that sense every reader should read a book by its cover, at least initially, in order to more fully comprehend the basic elements that comprise a text.

Anthropomorphic Scenery

“Literary geography is typically about humans inhabiting spaces, and at the same time the spaces that inhabit humans. Who can say how much of us comes from our physical surroundings? Writers can, at least in their own works, for their own purposes... Geography is setting, but it's also (or can be) psychology, attitude, finance, industry—anything that a place can forge in the people who live there. Geography in literature can be so much more. It can be revelatory of virtually any element in the work.” - Chapter Nineteen: “Geography Matters...” pages 165-166

Personally I couldn't agree more with the content of Chapter Nineteen, and furthermore I believe it is one of the most ignored, or overlooked, elements in literature, concerning that of the everyday, casual reading experience. Due to this perceived deficiency, I wish that Foster could have expanded on a few of the potentials of settings in literature. Foster examines the the possibilities of creating expectations for audiences, the necessities of context, plot progression, etcetera, through the means of geographical decisions made on the part of the writer. Little time is spent, however, on the use of setting to reflect certain qualities in characters. Similarly, Foster does describe how specific geographic settings can foreshadow character development (or decay) and plot action, but does not explicitly confront the way in which setting can be utilized as mirrored images. Opportunities lay at hand when appraising the landscape of fiction, more so even than Foster relays in his brief discussion of the matter. As readers we must not only recognize how a location affects the tone, plot action, and context, but also how environments can resemble the characters themselves, in order to understand them more fully. Unfortunately the first example that comes to mind is The English Patient. László de Almásy, one of the main characters of the novel, is a desert cartographer who is very learned, yet abrasive. European social customs seem arbitrary to him, and somewhat limiting. The desert that he so fondly explores, in many ways personifies his personality: solemn, severe, and passionate when a storm arises. The very shape of the land drives him to his desires, that later construct his entire future. From a writer's perspective it is much easier to compare a person's hostility to the heat of the desert, or his love as vast and immense as the Sahara. Michael Ondaatje manages to relay both just by placing his complex character in an even more cryptic region. Geographical locations of literary works can intensify, if not define character attributes, adding to the effectiveness and symbolism of a text.

"Of Great Pitch And Moment"

“Ulysses” - Alfred Lord Tennyson

Tennyson creates the image of a man who is driven by a duty that soon turns to desire. Such stories are often characteristic of adventurers of all types. My mind instantly turns to Ernest Shackleton, who despite failed voyages, near death experiences, pain beyond all tolerance, and a loving family back in Great Britain, pursued Antarctica time and time again. In fact I believe that Shackleton read Lord Tennyson, and even “Ulysses” on numerous occasions. The same holds true for T.E. Lawrence, drawn by duty to kill, then compelled by desire. Forced to go at the start, Odysseus soon needed to go, because it was all he knew, or could be fond of. At one time his only longing was to return to his wife and child, but the journey home took him captive as his blood turned to adrenaline. When Tennyson speaks of Telemachus bearing the burden of his father's fame, he references that of his generation, constantly striving to live up to past crusades. Tennyson's use of The Odyssey, and more specifically Odysseus, reflects popular support of imperialist efforts internationally, especially those of Great Britain, in the 19th century. In this era the world seems to be getting increasingly small. Few lands are yet to be discovered. The explorers of the mid-1800s grew up hearing stories of legendary proportions about their grandfathers and great-grandfathers, provoking them to regain the esteem that seemed lost. Soon drugged by the exhilaration of conquering foreign lands, many could not let go of their wanderings. Tennyson employs The Odyssey to magnify the desire he sees about him. He witnessed on a daily basis men signing up for the Royal Army, with the sole desire to obtain that renown status as a soldier, and for king and country. Whose enterprises are more famed or emulated than that of the classic hero Odysseus? Through the use of Greek literature, “Ulysses” explains the nature and patterns of male obsession, to define social and political tendencies of the period.

Simple Linguistics in 19th Century Literature

“The Masque of the Red Death” - Edgar Allan Poe

Immediately I found the Gothic, yet fable-like tone of “The Masque of the Red Death” intriguing. A short, yet impeccable story with morally destitute characters and objective narration. “The Masque (or Mask as it was originally printed) of the Red Death” evokes a time of gruesome cautionary tales told to children in the darkness of candle light. Of course that is the appeal of virtually all Poe stories, but there are many clues to indicate the sway of fairy tales within his writing. A popular technique of the time was to name characters by their qualities, such is the case with Nathaniel Hawthorne in The Scarlet Letter, with characters like Roger Chillingworth and Pearl. It was customary for a writer of that era to invent names that reflected the personality or symbolism of a character. Much of this popularity can be linked to the release of Children's and Household Tales earlier in that same century. Cinderella reflects a character who sleeps in a fireplace, Snow White a girl with a pale complexion, and so on. Edgar Allan Poe appropriately names his character Prince Prospero, a rich and happy noble, in “The Masque of the Red Death.” Despite horrid and despicable events within the story the narration is aloof, simply stating the people, events, and scenery nonchalantly. Poe describes his heartless protagonist as “peculiar,” and “bizarre,” making sure to italicize the word several times, rather than uncaring or cruel. Not once does Poe pass judgment on the Prince's licentious and untimely partying, more than to call them “unusual,” and “wanton.” This type of tone is seen frequently in fairy tales or folklore. Impersonal and almost child-like narration such as “There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine,” is apparent in most of the climbing action of the story, making the ending so powerful. The short story concludes with a memorable image to sear in a moral. All such things indicate the influence of the recent Grimm Brothers' publication. Even the title is straightforward and reflects elements of the story like that of a fairy tale, for example “The Mouse, The Bird, and The Sausage,” or “The Elves and the Shoemaker.” However, the references to Hernani, and Herod the Great from the New Testament makes the story engaging for adults. Political commentary concerning nobility, also appeals to more mature audiences. The story borrows typical fairy tale features to create a humbling tale for adults.

A Therapeutic Rant

“Is that a symbol? Sure, why not. It's the next question where things get hairy: what does it mean, what does it stand for? When someone asks about meaning, I usually come back with something clever, like 'Well, what do you think?' Everyone thinks I'm either being a wise guy or ducking responsibility, but neither is the case. Seriously, what do you think it stand for, because that's probably what it does. At least for you.” Chapter Twelve: “Is That A Symbol?” page 97
I chose to reflect on the introduction of Chapter 12 rather than the more descriptive passage at the top of page 103, because this section is the first time in which Foster gives full responsibility and ownership of the reading experience to his audience. It was almost impressive, I was unsure his ego would allow it. Instead of demanding that his readers inherently trust him that all quests lead to self-knowledge, or that rain is cleansing Foster finally gives the reader permission to interpret symbols as they please, as long as they have sufficient textual support. For once Foster stops being a sophist and infuses a small amount of self-doubt into this chapter. It doesn't last for long though as he relays his theories on A Passage To India, but I appreciated the sentiment, and rightly so. Literature belongs to all readers. Besides that, when talking about symbols it helps to be vague. Why say that one thing represents something, when more than likely there is an author who has used a symbol ironically or with a different intention? Why describe one set of symbolic actions, such as eating dinner, when most novels and the like consist of more than plot developing event, all of which are symbolic and essential? Individual analysis of reoccurring events and objects in literature can be helpful if all you intend to do is cover the most common devices used in the literary world. However, if a book were to include analyses concerning prevalent conventions used in literature, and a catch-all section declaring that all symbols can be interpreted in this way, why wouldn't you just cut to the chase and only insert that single section, since it encompasses the entirety of the content?! Or at least leave it as a disclaimer for the end of the book, by saying “all symbols not addressed in this book are up to you to figure out.” But, no. This chapter is in the middle of the book saying “hey you know all that time you spent reading about specific symbols, where I told you that certain symbols mean certain things? Well, I take it back, but not really because I am going to spend the rest of the book doing the exact same things I did in the beginning. Aren't you excited for more?” In reality this book hasn't been the most horrid thing I have ever read, I save that title for the Book of Mormon. No really, I just find the placement and context of Chapter Twelve to be odd, and hilarious in many ways. I do feel that the structure of this book is rather unconvincing, as Foster comes across as somewhat indecisive in his approach to his audience. More than that though, the book has reminded me of a good deal of literary information that I do think many readers may tend to forget or take for granted. And the narration is fairly interesting too. All in all, I find myself in a sort of purgatory between rage and respect.

Fall From Love

“Araby” - James Joyce

“Araby” displays a brilliant analogy between the fall of man in the Bible, and the disillusionment of falling out of love. When in love, or at least infatuation, there is no such thing as shame. Daily life is centered around the power and enthusiasm held for love, and truly all else seems like “ugly monotonous child's play.” Joyce aptly describes a lack of awareness, and the joy in such bliss. “I was thankful that I could see so little,” conveys a joy and numbing desire for ignorance. From the very start of the story, the narrator illustrates his place of residence through the context of “being blind,” and the streets are silent. The main character lives in a priest's house, where religious works have been left behind, and a small yet “central apple-tree” looms in the backyard. All of these characteristics and qualities reflect the Garden of Eden. Living blindly in a priest's home, with the silence of ignorance and loneliness, represents living in the Lord's house before the fall. A fall which occurred by means of knowledge and companionship. While the apple-tree is never partaken of, its presence merely alludes to the central metaphor and theme of the story. After Eve (Mangan's sister) enters into Adam's (the protagonist's) world, it suddenly becomes noisy with life, and he has to fight to keep his love. Such is evident in the passage “these noises converged in a single sensation of life for me: I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes.” The “chalice” suitably symbolizes the protagonist's love, and the “throng of foes” the temptations that face him in his newly dualistic world; a world consisting of both males and females. The main character strives only to profess his love to his neighbor, and suddenly the opportunity finds him, as she puts him to the test of buying a trinket. This quest overtakes his being, and signifies Eve's plea for Adam to join in the consumption of the apple. Despite the unfulfilled request, when the protagonist leaves Araby he has learned enough about the world to demean his love, and he has fallen. He becomes conscious of the great lengths to which he has gone for Mangan's sister, of her ability to control his very thoughts and actions. This knowledge, or “vanity,” drives away his love and replaces it with “anguish and anger.” One could conclude that James Joyce held the same view of the Fall from Eden in the Bible. That hatred took the place of pure love in the time of Adam and Eve, to the point that they hated themselves, covered their bodies, and tried desperately to rationalize this evil conversion through the search for knowledge. In any case, “Araby” displays various theological and philosophical implications that perhaps even devout Christians may not have considered, thus proving the genius in Joyce's work.

Literary And Physical Realizations On Violence

“Violence is one of the most personal and even intimate acts between human beings, but it can also be cultural and societal in its implications. It can be symbolic, thematic, biblical, Shakespearean, Romantic, allegorical, transcendent. Violence in real life just is. If someone punches you in the nose in a supermarket parking lot, it's simply aggression. It doesn't contain meaning beyond the act itself. Violence in literature, though, while it is literal, is usually also something else.” Chapter Eleven: “... More Than It's Gonna Hurt You: Concerning Violence” page 88

Since my discussion on the impact of truth on life and literature, I have to find this statement to be gravely false. Real life violence is not “simply aggression,” and while I will admit that this violence is daily, and somewhat commonplace, we cannot allow ourselves to simply ignore its implications. All of the authors Foster presents as examples for his argument in the chapter have been directly affected by violence in their lives. Foster says for himself in reference to Robert Frost, “only a person who has been around the ceaseless danger of farm machinery could have written the poem.” The personal memories of readers and writers alike affect the very nature of literature. The experiences of writers will inevitably affect the themes, archetypes, and overall content of their work. While the events that occur in a reader's life will affect how they interpret the writer's work. Since violence influences both the writing and reading experience, it seems nonsensical to ignore the implications of actual violence on literature. Perhaps Foster makes this claim simply with the knowledge that literature enhances and magnifies real life stories through the usage of omniscient narrators and bold language. Even though I agree entirely with that premise, being aware of the causes and effects of everyday violence can only enrich our lives within and outside of literature. To enhance our literary “instincts” and further our comprehension of the world we live in, as readers we should use the tools of decoding literature that Foster describes when we encounter violence on a day-to-day basis. Just like in literature violence in real life can be “symbolic, thematic, biblical, Shakespearean, Romantic, allegorical, transcendent.” At this very moment Christian interference in Muslim jihad wars conjures a scene of biblical proportions, does it not? When a member of MS 13 stabs an innocent bystander, does it mean nothing? Is it “simply aggression?” I think not. Rather I look back to the societal impact of civil wars in Latin America, such as in Nicaragua, that led to the formation of the MS 13. Did not Shakespeare borrow the violence from history to make Henry V, Julius Caesar, Othello, and countless other great masterpieces? Have not real people committed acts of violence in the name of love? Wasn't the death of Emerson's dear wife the source of his personal transcendentalist movement? I tell you that if each man and woman devoted more time to contemplating the violence present within their own lives, the world might have more meaning, and the apathetic tendencies of humanity might come to an end, or maybe not. But as more attention is placed on tangible violence in the world, readers will undoubtedly be better suited to understand the symbolism of violence in literature.

Connecting To Substance

“The great man responded simply that 'sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.' I don't really care if the story is true or not. Actually, I think I prefer that it be apocryphal, since made-up anecdotes have their own kind of truth. Still, it is equally true that just as cigars may be just cigars, so sometimes they are not. Same with meals in life and, of course, in literature. Sometimes a meal is just a meal, and eating with others is simply eating with others. More often than not, though, it's not.” Chapter Two: “Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion” page 7

This wasn't the first passage that I actually liked in How to Read Literature Like a Professor because of its comedic content, or because of the fact that the word “apocryphal” always makes me think of Andrew Bird, but because it was the first passage that actually had content. I remember distinctly lingering over this passage, reading it several times. “Made-up anecdotes have their own kind of truth.” Substance. When Harry Smith tells the world in all sincerity that he was raised by Aleister Crowley, that tells me more about him than when some over serious man forces him to relay his father's true identity. This is what Foster speaks of when he confronts the usage of previous texts and history in modern literature. That simple sentence concerning “made-up anecdotes” is why we are all reading this book. The uncertain, mysterious, deceitful, enshrouded quality of great anecdotes, folk tales, Shakespeare, the Bible, the Iliad, etcetera, holds true with all literature. There is the perception of truth. An author strives hard to create something that could be true, and perhaps is. This basis in truth, or the illusion of truth, allows readers to immerse themselves into the narrative, and discover more about an event, themselves, or life than reality could ever convey. The figurative language and dramatics of literature could never be fully absorbed in real life. Romeo and Juliet is supposedly based in truth, but Shakespeare rewrote a timeworn regional folk tale to create something that has become timeless, internationally renown, and tangible. Was all of womankind forged from the rib of a man along with a single breath? I severely doubt it but the imagery is moving enough to allow billions to believe it. Was the civil war of one of the greatest nations of all of human history fought because of jealously over women? Who knows? But Homer took the opportunity to take the fame of a tremendous event and translate it in terms of human emotion rather than politics. A few weeks after the story of the Holcomb killings was published in newspapers nationwide, all those who weren't directly affected or involved forgot of the tragic occurrence, until Capote blended truth with fiction to connect the world with Kansas. I can see a homeless man lying on a park bench, but when I am told who he is, whether the story is based in truth or not, my emotions are guaranteed to increase exponentially. Literature unites us all to events, emotions, and truths previously untapped. I can hear facts and statistics all day, but the pathos of literature was the only thing that honestly introduced me to the Civil War, or Jesus, or life in a gulag. This delicate balance of truth and man-made creation allow for greater comprehension when it comes to all things.

Objectives and Interpretation

In reference to the whole of the Introduction: “How'd He Do That?” of Thomas C. Foster's book How To Read Literature Like A Professor.
I think there is something to be said about the lack of attention spent on individuality and subjectivity. Of course I would say that “Memory. Symbol. Pattern.” is a great mantra when confronting a text, because writers ponder all such things when creating. However, Foster simply ignores the role of individual interpretation and experience in literature for the majority of his book, which I find to be an inexcusable faux pas. Part of what makes literature vastly successful in the first place is this consideration on the part of the writer. A writer wants his/her work to be personal for each member of his audience. The writer wants the audience to be able to derive special meaning from a text, while also retaining a larger theme. Through the medium of the human mind a work can be dissected differently depending on the person, thus giving a text infinite meaning, which is why authors fight so hard to have their work proliferated. However some elements of a text were indeed crafted to have universal symbolism. So an advanced writer composes with two objectives: making a work intimate for the individual, while leaving some components consistent for all. Most writers strive for multiple meanings in their writing, and I don't think any of them would condone a 'blank will always represent blank' mentality. Most writers want certain aspects of their work to be subjective, but a text is always written for a specific reason. So whether the main purpose of a work is expressed in the tone, figurative language, or syntax, not all the ingredients that make up a piece of literature have to be resolute. Keeping that in mind, the clues and suggestions Foster speaks of, can be used to discover the ultimate motives of a writer if they so happen to elude a reader. Nevertheless one must acknowledge the influence of the singular, subjective understanding of literature.

Individual Perception and Literary Effects of Intertextuality

“This dialogue between old texts and new is always going on at one level or another. Critics speak of this dialogue as intertextuality, the ongoing interaction between poems or stories. This intertexual dialogue deepens and enriches the reading experience, bringing multiple layers of meaning to the text, some of which readers may not even consciously notice. The more we become aware of the possibility that our text is speaking to other texts, the more similarities and correspondences we begin to notice, and the more alive the text becomes.” Chapter 5 “Now, Where Have I Seen Her Before?” page 34-35

While I have always believed that the interaction of texts and various forms of culture was more similar to an evolutionary cycle rather than a dialogue, I agree with the basic principle. Every writer and reader has their own literature memory, alongside a personal memory. It is simply impossible for a reader or writer to continue their ventures devoid of such memory. Therefore every sentence read or written is influenced entirely by what we know or have experienced. Whether it be the Bible or the recent BP oil spill, the way in which humans interact with internal mental processes relates entirely to the information that is stored within our own minds. I can't necessarily agree with the somewhat idealistic statement that this “dialogue” will always enhance the former text. I'm sure I would have a far greater respect for Shakespeare if his work wasn't constantly hackneyed by pop culture, but the familiarity Foster talks so highly of allows the reader to review previous assessments of classic works, like Foster's example of “Master Harold”... and the Boys. When a reader is exploring that vast world of the written word without the guidance of say a professor, the references intentionally used in literature from past works allow a reader to more fully understand the text in use. When readers don't have the option of discussing an complex passage with fellow readers, an individual person may still be able to fully experience a text via the means of past literature. And if a reader has not yet been exposed to the work being referenced in a current text, the work being referenced will then widen their literary memory, opening doors to deeper understanding and connection between a reader and a text. In my opinion it would be more accurate to say that as writers reform the work of other writers literature evolves by itself, due to the breadth of literary work, “literature” in many ways is a life form unto itself, as contributions are unending, and isolated human omniscience concerning such is impossible. While the dialogue that Foster mentions, in reality, occurs between the text and the singular reader, because the context of knowledge is separate from person to person.