You know what's cool? When colleges send you e-mails telling you FAFSA is due TOMORROW. Guess where I most likely will not be going? I guess it doesn't really matter much, considering I already got into my number one school... but still... If you're not even going to tell me if I've been accepted until March... Grr.
So, the books I am currently reading now are On the Road by Jack Kerouac and The Road Cormac McCarthy. OH GET IT. I'm also reading them for the same person, so double the funny right there. To triplicate the funny, my dog attacked my copy of On the Road!
The Road is about a post-apocalyptic future, following a father and his son in their search for food and warmth and safety. There are also crazy smelly hobos (hoboes?). Soooo yep. Marky Mark happened to see me reading it and warned me against it--he actually told me to put it down--saying it was as disturbing as Schindler's List or Saving Private Ryan. As he put it, "There are just some images burned into my mind's eye that I don't want there". This is one of those things. I don't know. There were certainly a few skin-crawling scenes, but not what I'd say are Schindler's List-level disturbing. He also seemed quite shocked that Robby D would hand it over to me. (He said he thought I'd like it because "you're kind of dark".) Like, I have never seen such a surprised look on his face. I didn't know Marky Mark could feel fear or surprise, but there you go!
So, the way the story is told seems very reminiscent of the opening and ending chapters in 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King. There are two characters, the man and the boy, whose identities are revealed in the meat of the book. But, The Road does this as well--only you never actually learn the father and son's name, they are just 'he' and 'the boy'. Yup....
NOTE: When someone speaks in this book, quotation marks are not included, the speaker just gets a separate line. For ease, I will add quotation marks. "'You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget'" (12). Et tu, Marky Mark?
The word 'wonky' is used in this book. This is the only time I've ever seen this word used in print other than on the webcomic 'Boy Meets Boy'. Harley Goldman is proud.
"Where you've nothing else construct ceremonies out of the air and breathe upon them" (74).
"'And nothing bad is going to happen to us.' 'That's right.' 'Because we're carrying the fire.' 'Yes. Because we're carrying the fire'" (83). They're the good guys, carrying the torch--you know, of life. What have you. 'Carrying the fire' is what the father says the 'good guys' do, and that's how you can tell if a person is a 'good guy'. (Later on, a woman refers to the breath of God as something that is passed on from person to person--passing the torch, get it) Actually, I should mention this. People, other people left to survive, are so desperate they've turned to eating children. At one point the father and son come upon a headless infant body roasting over a spit. That should be disturbing--but it's so unreal to me I can't be freaked out by it. I mean--I literally cannot imagine that or anyone doing that. It does not exist for me. My mind can't comprehend it.
"Can you do it? When the time comes? When the time comes there will be no time. Now is the time. Curse God and die" (114).
A favorite scene is a brief encounter with an old man. They pass him by at first, and the father says 'No, we can't stop', etc, but the son wants to go back and help him. The father "looked down at the old man. Perhaps he'd turn into a god and they to trees" (163). I was pleasantly surprised to see this. I actually smiled. I'm not sure why such a reference should be so pleasant, but what it's referring to is something that isn't just inherent in Greek mythology, EMMA. Ahem! What was I saying? Ah yes. Every culture has at least one tale of a god or deity visiting a person as a destitute being and judging their soul by how they react. Often the spirit asks for food, and if they receive food the giver is blessed and if they are turned away the refuser is cursed. For example, I recall a Japanese tale where a servant girl was beaten and a spirit took pity on her. When her master was out, the spirit visited and the girl told him to take rice, but to flee quickly because her master would kill the visitor. The spirit gives her a magic handkerchief. The master finds out later about the food that was given away and the girl is beaten soundly, but later the girl cleans her face with the hanky and the bruises disappear and she becomes more beautiful than before. This continues until, of course, the master finds out and beats her and turns her out, then uses the hanky on himself. It works backwards with him, however--when he realized what he's done to himself he's a Frankenstein-esque beast. Talk about images that are forever burned into your mind... Uh. A more well-known example would be 'Beauty and the Beast'. I don't remember what the Beast did to make the traveling spirit-guy mad, but that's why he's... well, a beast. I can't think of any where the god turns the scorners into trees, however.
"'What do I have to do?' 'Tell us where the world went'" (166).
"'I guess God would know. Is that it?' 'There is no God.' 'There is no God and we are his prophets'" (170).
So yeah. I was kind of cool on this one. This wasn't exactly exhilarating to read, nor was it torture. It was sort of in the middle. In this genre, it didn't really bring anything new to the table but it wasn't exactly old hat, either. It simply was. It existed. As the fact that it kind of was, and just kind of happened, the ending felt kind of strange--because it could very well go on forever. To end it was kind of like, well, ending the life, but without the mourning and sadness. (Which is kind of what happens, so...) Yeah. I mean, it's a read, but it's... it's just a read. I don't know. But, as for books Robby D has suggested to me, it's a million times better than Their Eyes Were Watching God. Which sounds like it would be an oddly appropriate title for this book. Uhm. Yup.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Where does the time go when it's not around here?
Soo, I have been typecast and I've decided to blame Robby D for it. At this point, Emma probably already knows the story (update--Emma was texted) but I'm going to pretend I have other readers. We have an independent art project that's a series of whatever. I asked Maghini if she had maybe a suggestion of something I could do, and she said, "Well... maybe a comic about Jack Kerouac?" Woahh! Typecast! (Ignore the fact that I was toying with something having to do with Kerouac.) Robby D, you and your turning me into an obvious Kerouac lover! No, kidding, I'm cool with it. I appreciate it!
What did I read? I read CS Lewis's Screwtape Letters. Fun thing I wasn't aware of, CS Lewis's middle name is Staples. Staples. I'll give you a second to soak that awesomeness in.
Awesome matter #2 is this copy I picked up is an edition from 1953. Which means it is a very, very quality book. And, for once, I have a book that's older than 50 years and does reek of mold and possibly smallpox. Actually, I don't think Descent of Man or Hunchback of Notre Dame smell like either of those things, but that's besides the point. Anyway. What I'm getting at is I love it because it's pretty like that. And fun to hold. This is the kind of book I'd love to carry around all day. (Stop looking at me like that.)
The book is a series of letters from Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood. Screwtape is an elder demon, apparently quite successful in turning people from the Enemy (God, duh) and is writing his nephew letters meant to help him turn his first case away from the Enemy. So, like many of his other books, there's quite a strong Christian influence, even though in this book you may not be expecting it. (I expected nothing going into it--I liked the binding on the book and the name. Those things are enough for me.) Also, ironically enough, quite a case for Christianity--or, religion in general. Or, not being a satanist at the very least, if nothing else.
"The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn"--Luther
"The devill... the prowde spirite... cannot endure to be mocked"--Thomas Moore (Both quotes appear before the story's start.) You know, I was thinking about this, and I can't believe how silly that is. I mean, according to many religious texts--yeah, this is the truth. Whether it's the Christian devil, or some other deity of evil, or even just a tricky or playful good guy, they're ultimately powerful. Too strong, too smart, too much having the tendency to devour human souls. But, as soon as someone says something like "Oh, silly god/dess, they are stupid/not as good at weaving as me/couldn't ever fool me", they appear and are all like "Nuh-uh, it's done". They get so MAD. Hubris. It's a bad business.
In the preface, CS Lewis says: "There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them" (9). This is obvious; it hardly needs an explanation. Just thought it was worth mentioning--it can be applied to a great many things, and a great many people aren't aware of the dangers.
"There is wishful thinking in Hell as well as on Earth" (10). I just like the phrasing. Heck, there's probably more wishful thinking in hell--I point to Mephostophilis from Marlowe's Doctor Faustus. At one point, he tells Faustus that even while shadowing Faustus on earth is torture--because he can see happy people, with full lives, free of, well, hell. Damnation.
"All mortals turn into the thing they are pretending to be" (54) / "We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be"--Kurt Vonnegut Oh, hey, guys.
"No natural phenomenon is really in our favor" (80). So, through Screwtape, CS Lewis is saying that natural phenomena is 'good', right? Because it can't be an advantage to a demon. And in that case, I think CS Lewis just said people are inherently good. Yay! JOHN LOCKE. (Also believed people are inherently good. Because you care so much?)
"His faction has frequently admitted that if ever we came to understand what He means by Love, the war would be over and we should re-enter Heaven. And there lies the great task. We know that He cannot really love; nobody can: it doesn't make sense. If only we could find out what He is really up to!" (98). It would seem that by rebelling, Lucifer would have filled the hearts of his familiars with hate and lies (well, there's a reason why they call him the "father of all lies", I guess) and they've never quite regained it. If you've happened to have read Neil Gaiman's comic book Murder Mysteries, it implies that Lucifer rebelled because he was--well, heartbroken. He was God's number one angel, subservient and completely trusting in Him. However, God's wrath is enacted in front of him and disintegrates a fellow angel into little more than dust. The squares on that page are burned into my mind: crying, Lucifer says, "That wasn't fair. That... That was not just." After that, he leaves, and Raguel's commentary is something like: "X may have been the first to love, but Lucifer was the first to shed tears and I will never forget that." In his head (as I've imagined it) his image of God was ruined forever--he was heartbroken. So, being unable to feel love, and disabling his followers from feeling it makes sense in that line of thought, I guess. (Also, compare this quote to "The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell"--CS Lewis, from The Four Loves.)
Screwtape also claims you can make a person unhappy by screwing up their notion of love--that is, having them read books of the soppy sort, to make them believe love is irresistible and fantastic and descends at first sight. Then, no human love will ever make up to that ideal. Jane Austen: accidentally a satanist? Because Mr Darcy will skew my views of romance forever. This me, DYING ALONE. Don't let Screwtape know.
Screwtape also implied that through demonic doings, fashions go in and out in an effort to make a human more unattractive to another. His case in point is "the beard" (102). I practically died laughing. I mean... it just sounds so silly.
Describing a Christian girl, Screwtape says: "She makes me vomit" (111). There is a huge amount of difference between saying "She makes me want to" and "She makes me". That was really all I'm pointing out. I mean, he probably was for real throwing up. Ick. Oh, but also, the finality and truth of the statement kind of makes me giggle. I mean, you have to admit, it sounds kind of silly.
"Transformation proceeds from within and is a glorious manifestation of that Life Force which Our Father would worship if he worshipped anything but himself" (115). This is quite possibly the biggest warning flag CS Lewis puts up throughout the novel. HUBRIS IS BAD, AND IT IS WHAT SATAN HAS. WOAH RHYMING KIND OF. SWEET.
Screwtape mentions 'contemporary' writers thinking of Jesus in a new light--one of these new ways is in a Marxian light. Oh, Oscar Wilde, you wrote a whole essay on this which I own? And it's called 'The Soul of Man Under Socialism'? Huh.
"We have trained them to think of the Future as a promised land which favoured heroes attain--not as something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is" (130). In a book of quotes, this is quoted as being "The future is something which everyone reaches... (etc)" Either way, it's a delicious quote and a reminder I think a lot of people need. The future is all around us, in every single millisecond and puff of air, moving forward slower than one can imagine, but still fast enough to shock. You see?
Ooh, I have to spoil the end. I need to. It's delicious the way the end of Little King's Story is delicious. So, don't read if you don't want it spoiled, yeah? Wormwood fails. Apparently, he writes to his uncle begging for help of some sort--because he 'loves' him. His uncle's response? "Love you? Why, yes. As dainty a morsel as ever I grew fat on" (156). Earlier in the letters, he hints that those who can't feed hell (with souls) will end up on the table themselves. Screwtape ends the final letter with: "Meanwhile, I have you to settle with. Most truly do I sign myself Your increasingly and ravenously affectionate uncle SCREWTAPE" (160).
I'd recommend this book highly. Some people may be put off by the Christian overtones, but it's an interesting book, and to be quite frank, I think very little of people who reject things simply because of their ideologies. I find it quite cowardly--in that, you feel the need to abuse it thoroughly and cannot even approach a symbol of it without a yellow belly. I can't say I agree with everything I read, and I can't say I've never been offended by a book, or movie, or any other form of media that would support any sort of view--but I give it a chance. Woah, sorry to get all preachy. It's just--I deal with a lot of people like this. And I have for a great many years--and the behavior disgusts me. Ehm.
In other news, I drew and inked a 'practice picture' of Kerouac. DO NOT LISTEN TO EMMA IT IS NOT GOOD HE LOOKS LIKE HP LOVECRAFT.
What did I read? I read CS Lewis's Screwtape Letters. Fun thing I wasn't aware of, CS Lewis's middle name is Staples. Staples. I'll give you a second to soak that awesomeness in.
Awesome matter #2 is this copy I picked up is an edition from 1953. Which means it is a very, very quality book. And, for once, I have a book that's older than 50 years and does reek of mold and possibly smallpox. Actually, I don't think Descent of Man or Hunchback of Notre Dame smell like either of those things, but that's besides the point. Anyway. What I'm getting at is I love it because it's pretty like that. And fun to hold. This is the kind of book I'd love to carry around all day. (Stop looking at me like that.)
The book is a series of letters from Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood. Screwtape is an elder demon, apparently quite successful in turning people from the Enemy (God, duh) and is writing his nephew letters meant to help him turn his first case away from the Enemy. So, like many of his other books, there's quite a strong Christian influence, even though in this book you may not be expecting it. (I expected nothing going into it--I liked the binding on the book and the name. Those things are enough for me.) Also, ironically enough, quite a case for Christianity--or, religion in general. Or, not being a satanist at the very least, if nothing else.
"The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn"--Luther
"The devill... the prowde spirite... cannot endure to be mocked"--Thomas Moore (Both quotes appear before the story's start.) You know, I was thinking about this, and I can't believe how silly that is. I mean, according to many religious texts--yeah, this is the truth. Whether it's the Christian devil, or some other deity of evil, or even just a tricky or playful good guy, they're ultimately powerful. Too strong, too smart, too much having the tendency to devour human souls. But, as soon as someone says something like "Oh, silly god/dess, they are stupid/not as good at weaving as me/couldn't ever fool me", they appear and are all like "Nuh-uh, it's done". They get so MAD. Hubris. It's a bad business.
In the preface, CS Lewis says: "There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them" (9). This is obvious; it hardly needs an explanation. Just thought it was worth mentioning--it can be applied to a great many things, and a great many people aren't aware of the dangers.
"There is wishful thinking in Hell as well as on Earth" (10). I just like the phrasing. Heck, there's probably more wishful thinking in hell--I point to Mephostophilis from Marlowe's Doctor Faustus. At one point, he tells Faustus that even while shadowing Faustus on earth is torture--because he can see happy people, with full lives, free of, well, hell. Damnation.
"All mortals turn into the thing they are pretending to be" (54) / "We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be"--Kurt Vonnegut Oh, hey, guys.
"No natural phenomenon is really in our favor" (80). So, through Screwtape, CS Lewis is saying that natural phenomena is 'good', right? Because it can't be an advantage to a demon. And in that case, I think CS Lewis just said people are inherently good. Yay! JOHN LOCKE. (Also believed people are inherently good. Because you care so much?)
"His faction has frequently admitted that if ever we came to understand what He means by Love, the war would be over and we should re-enter Heaven. And there lies the great task. We know that He cannot really love; nobody can: it doesn't make sense. If only we could find out what He is really up to!" (98). It would seem that by rebelling, Lucifer would have filled the hearts of his familiars with hate and lies (well, there's a reason why they call him the "father of all lies", I guess) and they've never quite regained it. If you've happened to have read Neil Gaiman's comic book Murder Mysteries, it implies that Lucifer rebelled because he was--well, heartbroken. He was God's number one angel, subservient and completely trusting in Him. However, God's wrath is enacted in front of him and disintegrates a fellow angel into little more than dust. The squares on that page are burned into my mind: crying, Lucifer says, "That wasn't fair. That... That was not just." After that, he leaves, and Raguel's commentary is something like: "X may have been the first to love, but Lucifer was the first to shed tears and I will never forget that." In his head (as I've imagined it) his image of God was ruined forever--he was heartbroken. So, being unable to feel love, and disabling his followers from feeling it makes sense in that line of thought, I guess. (Also, compare this quote to "The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell"--CS Lewis, from The Four Loves.)
Screwtape also claims you can make a person unhappy by screwing up their notion of love--that is, having them read books of the soppy sort, to make them believe love is irresistible and fantastic and descends at first sight. Then, no human love will ever make up to that ideal. Jane Austen: accidentally a satanist? Because Mr Darcy will skew my views of romance forever. This me, DYING ALONE. Don't let Screwtape know.
Screwtape also implied that through demonic doings, fashions go in and out in an effort to make a human more unattractive to another. His case in point is "the beard" (102). I practically died laughing. I mean... it just sounds so silly.
Describing a Christian girl, Screwtape says: "She makes me vomit" (111). There is a huge amount of difference between saying "She makes me want to" and "She makes me". That was really all I'm pointing out. I mean, he probably was for real throwing up. Ick. Oh, but also, the finality and truth of the statement kind of makes me giggle. I mean, you have to admit, it sounds kind of silly.
"Transformation proceeds from within and is a glorious manifestation of that Life Force which Our Father would worship if he worshipped anything but himself" (115). This is quite possibly the biggest warning flag CS Lewis puts up throughout the novel. HUBRIS IS BAD, AND IT IS WHAT SATAN HAS. WOAH RHYMING KIND OF. SWEET.
Screwtape mentions 'contemporary' writers thinking of Jesus in a new light--one of these new ways is in a Marxian light. Oh, Oscar Wilde, you wrote a whole essay on this which I own? And it's called 'The Soul of Man Under Socialism'? Huh.
"We have trained them to think of the Future as a promised land which favoured heroes attain--not as something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is" (130). In a book of quotes, this is quoted as being "The future is something which everyone reaches... (etc)" Either way, it's a delicious quote and a reminder I think a lot of people need. The future is all around us, in every single millisecond and puff of air, moving forward slower than one can imagine, but still fast enough to shock. You see?
Ooh, I have to spoil the end. I need to. It's delicious the way the end of Little King's Story is delicious. So, don't read if you don't want it spoiled, yeah? Wormwood fails. Apparently, he writes to his uncle begging for help of some sort--because he 'loves' him. His uncle's response? "Love you? Why, yes. As dainty a morsel as ever I grew fat on" (156). Earlier in the letters, he hints that those who can't feed hell (with souls) will end up on the table themselves. Screwtape ends the final letter with: "Meanwhile, I have you to settle with. Most truly do I sign myself Your increasingly and ravenously affectionate uncle SCREWTAPE" (160).
I'd recommend this book highly. Some people may be put off by the Christian overtones, but it's an interesting book, and to be quite frank, I think very little of people who reject things simply because of their ideologies. I find it quite cowardly--in that, you feel the need to abuse it thoroughly and cannot even approach a symbol of it without a yellow belly. I can't say I agree with everything I read, and I can't say I've never been offended by a book, or movie, or any other form of media that would support any sort of view--but I give it a chance. Woah, sorry to get all preachy. It's just--I deal with a lot of people like this. And I have for a great many years--and the behavior disgusts me. Ehm.
In other news, I drew and inked a 'practice picture' of Kerouac. DO NOT LISTEN TO EMMA IT IS NOT GOOD HE LOOKS LIKE HP LOVECRAFT.
Friday, January 22, 2010
You're my alternate girlfriend: I love you, and now you cannot pretend
Number one on the agenda is Mansfield Park by Jane Austen. Now, you're probably expecting a rave review. You know how I feel about Jane Austen.
Well, stop now. I did not enjoy this book. I think I was a little biased against it from the start, because Oxford did a crappy job with their special edition Jane Austen collection. First of all, you'd expect it, somewhere, to give a description of the book's plot. Fine. You're saying, "Angela, how 'bout Wikipedia?" I know, I know, fine. Maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill. But still, it would be nice if research wasn't necessary just to read a book. Second, the guy who edited this book was high. So the whole introduction, instead of giving you an idea of what the book is about, just complains about how the editing for the first edition was really crappy. Fortunately, we get to experience that firsthand, as Oxford appears to have corrected about 2.2% of those errors. And, one more thing, Oxford did a weird editing choice that I can't even... I've never seen anything like it before. At the end of a page, they print the first word of the next page all the way to the right below the last line. Then, on the next page, they repeat the word. For example, pretend that this is the end of my page right here when I press 'enter'
and
and this is the next page. (Isn't that weird?)
Anyway. What the book is about--sort of--Early as a child the main character, Fanny, is adopted and raised with her cousin's family. She falls in love with her cousin Edmund over time, even though it seems like she has too-strong feelings for her actual brother for quite a long time. Then there's a play (which is really minor, actually) then adultery (Edmund's betrothed was involved in a scandal!) and I just wikapedia'd it and apparently Billie Piper played Fanny in a version of it. YES! You know, maybe I'll understand it better if I see it in film form... so I should just go get that riiiiiight now... (Or maybe not. You know I'd spend the whole movie waiting for David Tennant to show up.)
So, I've already complained about the introduction. Honestly, I don't care that the editor did a crappy job. Jane Austen probably didn't care. She was probably too busy basking in the wealth Pride and Prejudice brought her. She could care less what it looked like because she knew that every dumb bolt would pick it up simply because her name was on the cover. Stephen King employs this tactic today. And, let's be honest--if I could employ that tactic, I sure as hell would. Look. I want a yacht.
The book opens with the lines: "About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds..." (3). The rest of it doesn't matter. Only 7,000 pounds?? 'Only' seven thousand pounds two years ago would be $14,000! It's not a huge amount of money, but hell, I could dig it.
"'Sitting and calling to Pug, and trying to keep him from the flower-beds, was almost too much for me'" (74). Women in the Victorian era were lazyyyy. This is kind of like every episode of The Twilight Zone--if there's a woman of (love) interest, and she's set in the current time, she is hardly ever working. She's just rolling around in bed eating chocolates. Whose idea was women's rights. I would love to just roll around in bed and read all day. Though maybe not to the point of being unable where to even call the dog would exhaust me. Ugh. Can you imagine? "Pug! Pu--Oh, dear me. I'm about to faint. All of a sudden all my strength just left me..." Anyway, also on this page is one of the first errors I noticed--the 'e' in headache is omitted. As in, head OCH! Haha, get it, it's like the German word? No?
There's a huge boring bit about plays in the middle. It's boring and appears to just kind of be there. I figured maybe, Edmund and Fanny would play opposite, their passions would deepen, and it would be like that episode of 'As Told By Ginger'. I can't remember if that episode was the one that was the catalyst in Darren and Ginger's dating, but I do remember they had to do a kissing scene that made Ginger get all inflamed with passion and heavily make out with him. Do people even know what I'm talking about? Ginger's eyelashes made me mad. Actually, her whole face. She looked weird.
Oh, so fun fact, on page 288 this lady mentions three girls, two playing piano and one on the harp. Wait, that's not the fun fact part. Due to some accidental research (IE reading Pride and Prejudice fanfiction) I discovered that a girl playing the harp was considered sexy back then. Well, maybe not exactly sexy, but alluring. In a sexy way. Fanny is bothered because of the girls because they're eligible mates for Edmund or something like that, but look at that. I just added depth. Because one of those girls is apparently a sexy Sammy, which explains a little more why Fanny gets agitated. (Rawr, girls on harps. Those Victorian-era gents had some pretty raunchy fetishes.)
"'But I am not fishing; don't compliment me'" (289). As in... fishing for compliments? That was a phrase back then? Or did Jane Austen invent it? Dude, I don't even care. Maybe this book wasn't completely terrible.
Then, chapter XVI ends implying that Fanny and Edmund are friends and only friends, but Fanny's "friendship was all that he had to cling to" (460) implying that maybe they could get to know each other, have some wine, maybe get her a harp and see where things end up... ehm. So, being that that sentence is the last in the chapter, you can guess that the next chapter is going to pick up on what I described. Let me tell you how chapter XVII starts: "Let other pends dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore every body, not greatly in fault themselves, to tolerable comfort and to have done with all the rest" (461). WHAT. THE. EFF. JANE AUSTEN. Jane Austen, you can't do that! You're not Rod Serling; you can't just be like HEY GUESS WHAT I SUDDENLY HAVE PRESENCE HERE ON... THE TWILIGHT ZONE! Also, suddenly everything gets hunky-dory. In other news, f--k this book. It is so bad I need imply saying the f word. I try to keep this PG-13 at least, but this book is pretty goddamn trying.
This book is terrible. It's very clear that Jane Austen spent her money garnered from Pride and Prejudice on opium and wrote the book, or at least the last chapter, while on it. William S Burroughs, 140 some-odd years later, would employ this technique many a times (with various other drugs). If this is the first Jane Austen book Emma read, well, no wonder why she hates Jane Austen. Look. Don't read this book. It's not great. It's not mediocre--well, actually, if the Goosebumps series by RL Stine is 'bad' on the three-tier scale, then yes it is mediocre. If you must see her work, read what people remember her for--Pride and Prejudice. There's a reason why she's remembered for that. (And, actually, people remember Emma. Apparently there's a TV miniseries on PBS or something. I don't know. I saw it in an 'Entertainment Weekly' that's the latest-two months old.)
Number two on the agenda is that awesome Goosebumps blog. Sometimes, the things we remember fondly really aren't that great. Case in point, Voltron.
Number three is, I officially own the entire Twilight Zone series. You know what, maybe it's not fair to harp (hahahaha get it?) on Victorian-era men for finding women playing instruments sexy. I think Rod Serling is pretty sexy. Just saying. Anyway. Twilight Zone is awesome, and if you've never seen it I'm obliged to love you less. Look. It's The Twilight Zone. Twwiiiiliiiiiighhhhht Zooooooonnneeeeeee.
Number four is I'm rereading Dr McNinja and I'm overwhelmed with wishing I was Daniel McNinja. Yes, Dr McNinja's father.
Well, stop now. I did not enjoy this book. I think I was a little biased against it from the start, because Oxford did a crappy job with their special edition Jane Austen collection. First of all, you'd expect it, somewhere, to give a description of the book's plot. Fine. You're saying, "Angela, how 'bout Wikipedia?" I know, I know, fine. Maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill. But still, it would be nice if research wasn't necessary just to read a book. Second, the guy who edited this book was high. So the whole introduction, instead of giving you an idea of what the book is about, just complains about how the editing for the first edition was really crappy. Fortunately, we get to experience that firsthand, as Oxford appears to have corrected about 2.2% of those errors. And, one more thing, Oxford did a weird editing choice that I can't even... I've never seen anything like it before. At the end of a page, they print the first word of the next page all the way to the right below the last line. Then, on the next page, they repeat the word. For example, pretend that this is the end of my page right here when I press 'enter'
and
and this is the next page. (Isn't that weird?)
Anyway. What the book is about--sort of--Early as a child the main character, Fanny, is adopted and raised with her cousin's family. She falls in love with her cousin Edmund over time, even though it seems like she has too-strong feelings for her actual brother for quite a long time. Then there's a play (which is really minor, actually) then adultery (Edmund's betrothed was involved in a scandal!) and I just wikapedia'd it and apparently Billie Piper played Fanny in a version of it. YES! You know, maybe I'll understand it better if I see it in film form... so I should just go get that riiiiiight now... (Or maybe not. You know I'd spend the whole movie waiting for David Tennant to show up.)
So, I've already complained about the introduction. Honestly, I don't care that the editor did a crappy job. Jane Austen probably didn't care. She was probably too busy basking in the wealth Pride and Prejudice brought her. She could care less what it looked like because she knew that every dumb bolt would pick it up simply because her name was on the cover. Stephen King employs this tactic today. And, let's be honest--if I could employ that tactic, I sure as hell would. Look. I want a yacht.
The book opens with the lines: "About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds..." (3). The rest of it doesn't matter. Only 7,000 pounds?? 'Only' seven thousand pounds two years ago would be $14,000! It's not a huge amount of money, but hell, I could dig it.
"'Sitting and calling to Pug, and trying to keep him from the flower-beds, was almost too much for me'" (74). Women in the Victorian era were lazyyyy. This is kind of like every episode of The Twilight Zone--if there's a woman of (love) interest, and she's set in the current time, she is hardly ever working. She's just rolling around in bed eating chocolates. Whose idea was women's rights. I would love to just roll around in bed and read all day. Though maybe not to the point of being unable where to even call the dog would exhaust me. Ugh. Can you imagine? "Pug! Pu--Oh, dear me. I'm about to faint. All of a sudden all my strength just left me..." Anyway, also on this page is one of the first errors I noticed--the 'e' in headache is omitted. As in, head OCH! Haha, get it, it's like the German word? No?
There's a huge boring bit about plays in the middle. It's boring and appears to just kind of be there. I figured maybe, Edmund and Fanny would play opposite, their passions would deepen, and it would be like that episode of 'As Told By Ginger'. I can't remember if that episode was the one that was the catalyst in Darren and Ginger's dating, but I do remember they had to do a kissing scene that made Ginger get all inflamed with passion and heavily make out with him. Do people even know what I'm talking about? Ginger's eyelashes made me mad. Actually, her whole face. She looked weird.
Oh, so fun fact, on page 288 this lady mentions three girls, two playing piano and one on the harp. Wait, that's not the fun fact part. Due to some accidental research (IE reading Pride and Prejudice fanfiction) I discovered that a girl playing the harp was considered sexy back then. Well, maybe not exactly sexy, but alluring. In a sexy way. Fanny is bothered because of the girls because they're eligible mates for Edmund or something like that, but look at that. I just added depth. Because one of those girls is apparently a sexy Sammy, which explains a little more why Fanny gets agitated. (Rawr, girls on harps. Those Victorian-era gents had some pretty raunchy fetishes.)
"'But I am not fishing; don't compliment me'" (289). As in... fishing for compliments? That was a phrase back then? Or did Jane Austen invent it? Dude, I don't even care. Maybe this book wasn't completely terrible.
Then, chapter XVI ends implying that Fanny and Edmund are friends and only friends, but Fanny's "friendship was all that he had to cling to" (460) implying that maybe they could get to know each other, have some wine, maybe get her a harp and see where things end up... ehm. So, being that that sentence is the last in the chapter, you can guess that the next chapter is going to pick up on what I described. Let me tell you how chapter XVII starts: "Let other pends dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore every body, not greatly in fault themselves, to tolerable comfort and to have done with all the rest" (461). WHAT. THE. EFF. JANE AUSTEN. Jane Austen, you can't do that! You're not Rod Serling; you can't just be like HEY GUESS WHAT I SUDDENLY HAVE PRESENCE HERE ON... THE TWILIGHT ZONE! Also, suddenly everything gets hunky-dory. In other news, f--k this book. It is so bad I need imply saying the f word. I try to keep this PG-13 at least, but this book is pretty goddamn trying.
This book is terrible. It's very clear that Jane Austen spent her money garnered from Pride and Prejudice on opium and wrote the book, or at least the last chapter, while on it. William S Burroughs, 140 some-odd years later, would employ this technique many a times (with various other drugs). If this is the first Jane Austen book Emma read, well, no wonder why she hates Jane Austen. Look. Don't read this book. It's not great. It's not mediocre--well, actually, if the Goosebumps series by RL Stine is 'bad' on the three-tier scale, then yes it is mediocre. If you must see her work, read what people remember her for--Pride and Prejudice. There's a reason why she's remembered for that. (And, actually, people remember Emma. Apparently there's a TV miniseries on PBS or something. I don't know. I saw it in an 'Entertainment Weekly' that's the latest-two months old.)
Number two on the agenda is that awesome Goosebumps blog. Sometimes, the things we remember fondly really aren't that great. Case in point, Voltron.
Number three is, I officially own the entire Twilight Zone series. You know what, maybe it's not fair to harp (hahahaha get it?) on Victorian-era men for finding women playing instruments sexy. I think Rod Serling is pretty sexy. Just saying. Anyway. Twilight Zone is awesome, and if you've never seen it I'm obliged to love you less. Look. It's The Twilight Zone. Twwiiiiliiiiiighhhhht Zooooooonnneeeeeee.
Number four is I'm rereading Dr McNinja and I'm overwhelmed with wishing I was Daniel McNinja. Yes, Dr McNinja's father.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Walk like a dinosaur!
OH HEY! Guess what! I got into my top choice for a school! Well that's amazingly awesome.
Sooo. In other news, I reread an awesome book of sheer and complete awesomenassity: Dinotopia by James Gurney. This is the original book that inspired all the chapter books (which I never read) and probably was my basis for what I imagined the 'other side of the world' looked like. (If you're confused, ctrl+f for 'globes' or something. I don't want to rehash painful memories now.) Anyways. This is a BIG book, and by BIG, I mean a medium-sized coffee table book. It's relatively simple, and a relatively quick read. It is awash with gorgeous paintings, all done by the author himself. IT IS SO FULL OF WIN.
So, the basis is that in 1865, Arthur and Will Denison get caught in a shipwreck and wash up on the shore of an island--an island filled with dinosaurs! ROAR! And there are people too! And they live symbiotically with the dinos! (They're not symbiotically linked, however.)
The first dinosaur Arthur and Will meet (father and son, respectively) is a protoceratops. Arthur, not recognizing it, refers to it as a 'hog-parrot'. Which is way cooler than the Latin.
A popular game in Dinotopian cities is apparently a variant of dreidal--there's a painting showing children and struthiomimuses playing together. Instead of playing with chocolate or coins, however, the game is played with colorful stones.
Oh, and Arthur makes a super-awesome submarine that would do Jules Verne proud. Since the book is set as Arthur's journal, it wouldn't make any sense if the pages were numbered--but I certainly wish they were. It's a very pretty spectacle of--dare I say it--almost steampunkian* technology.
So, the book is probably intended for third or fourth graders. Hence, I was a little disappointed and surprised when I realized how quickly it had gone by. I mean, I used to pore over this book--I never really read it, but I would stare at the pictures for hours. Very impressive oil work, to be sure. There's not a real deep meaning to it, but it certainly is visually appealing and imaginatively appealing (that's actually a real word... I know... I was just as surprised as you are.) and any little kid who likes dinosaurs is going to like it. Although, I was struck with a deep sort of shame because I can no longer name or recognize every dinosaur in the book. What have I done with my life!?
*Orig. word--'steampunk'. It's the coolest thing ever. Time magazine recently had an article about it, which is how I found out about it: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1945343,00.html
Gee, can you say totally super-fantastic? Because I can. I can type it too. Anyway, I am going to get in on this. You know how I feel about the Victorian era, and all things associated with it.
Wow.... what an unmeaty post. Uh, it's because I had to study for my midterms? And by study I mean watch The Simpsons till my eyes bleed. It's cooler than you'd think.
Sooo. In other news, I reread an awesome book of sheer and complete awesomenassity: Dinotopia by James Gurney. This is the original book that inspired all the chapter books (which I never read) and probably was my basis for what I imagined the 'other side of the world' looked like. (If you're confused, ctrl+f for 'globes' or something. I don't want to rehash painful memories now.) Anyways. This is a BIG book, and by BIG, I mean a medium-sized coffee table book. It's relatively simple, and a relatively quick read. It is awash with gorgeous paintings, all done by the author himself. IT IS SO FULL OF WIN.
So, the basis is that in 1865, Arthur and Will Denison get caught in a shipwreck and wash up on the shore of an island--an island filled with dinosaurs! ROAR! And there are people too! And they live symbiotically with the dinos! (They're not symbiotically linked, however.)
The first dinosaur Arthur and Will meet (father and son, respectively) is a protoceratops. Arthur, not recognizing it, refers to it as a 'hog-parrot'. Which is way cooler than the Latin.
A popular game in Dinotopian cities is apparently a variant of dreidal--there's a painting showing children and struthiomimuses playing together. Instead of playing with chocolate or coins, however, the game is played with colorful stones.
Oh, and Arthur makes a super-awesome submarine that would do Jules Verne proud. Since the book is set as Arthur's journal, it wouldn't make any sense if the pages were numbered--but I certainly wish they were. It's a very pretty spectacle of--dare I say it--almost steampunkian* technology.
So, the book is probably intended for third or fourth graders. Hence, I was a little disappointed and surprised when I realized how quickly it had gone by. I mean, I used to pore over this book--I never really read it, but I would stare at the pictures for hours. Very impressive oil work, to be sure. There's not a real deep meaning to it, but it certainly is visually appealing and imaginatively appealing (that's actually a real word... I know... I was just as surprised as you are.) and any little kid who likes dinosaurs is going to like it. Although, I was struck with a deep sort of shame because I can no longer name or recognize every dinosaur in the book. What have I done with my life!?
*Orig. word--'steampunk'. It's the coolest thing ever. Time magazine recently had an article about it, which is how I found out about it: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1945343,00.html
Gee, can you say totally super-fantastic? Because I can. I can type it too. Anyway, I am going to get in on this. You know how I feel about the Victorian era, and all things associated with it.
Wow.... what an unmeaty post. Uh, it's because I had to study for my midterms? And by study I mean watch The Simpsons till my eyes bleed. It's cooler than you'd think.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Goodbye stranger; it's been nice
You know what book I finished recently and wrote an essay on that I just handed in today? Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. Good God. What a smfff book. It was alright... it had important points... and I could have killed myself while reading it. It's just one of those. So I won't be going through it. I know, you're saying, "Shankespeare, you are being a wiener right now. It doesn't matter if you didn't enjoy it! Press on, brave soldier of fortune!" I'm not sure exactly what you're quoting right now (if you're quoting something--which it certainly sounds like) but I just wrote a TWELVE-PAGE PAPER ON THIS BOOK I HATE. The only part I really liked was when this drunk guy plows into the main character and starts saying weird things like "I'mtheseventhsonofaseventhson" and that he was born with a caul and was raised on cat's milk and stuff. For you normal folks, being a seventh son of a seventh son means you're a werewolf (or being born on Christmas day. I have written a whole theory as to why Jesus was a werewolf and why exactly it makes sense). Being born with a caul makes you a vampire. Or being bitten, or if a vampire stares at a pregnant mother (the child is born a vampire) or if you're womb-cursed. Or excommunicated, supposedly, but I think that automatically makes every Episcopalian a vampire, and so far, I've been sorely disappointed.
Also, he refers to a black-and-white silent film (Birth of a Nation) which was pretty cool... I mean, not the fact that it's an incredibly racist film. Just the fact that he referred to it, you know? Old black and white films you know? Though when the book was written it probably wasn't that old... FINE. When I write my book, I'm just going to rip jokes off from Marx Brothers movies and no-one will know because they're 80 years old now. And if someone happens to call me on it? Homaaaaaaaaage.
So! What I will be writing about is a book I actually enjoyed (enjoyeds?). It is Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. The book is written about a true chain of events--A young man named Christopher Johnson McCandless (alias Alexander Supertramp) left school, left his family, and took basically nothing with him into the Alaskan wilderness. I enjoyed the story itself--not so much how it was written--and even the movie. What I mean about not really liking how it was written is that Krakauer started or still does, write in a style... uh, of journalists. It's kind of hard to explain... but you can tell. Or, maybe just I can tell, because I took a journalism class last year. Eugh. Anyway, spoiler alert: Christopher dies. Don't get mad at me--Krakauer reveals this on the second sentence eight pages in. Sooo. Yeah. Now that I've depressed you, read on!:
"I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life." This is from Tolstoy's Family Happiness, which I have not read, but it was found highlighted in one of the books that were found with Christopher's body.
"No longer would he answer to Chris McCandless; he was now Alexander Supertramp, master of his own destiny" (23).
It's thought that McCandless's infatuation with Jack London is what led partially to his walking into the Alaskan bush. Apparently, they were very romantic views of the wild--and by 'apparently' I mean they definitely are. According to Krakauer, Jack London spent "just a single winter in the North" and went on to become an obese drunk who killed himself in his CA estate. Yikes. Kind of ruins my image of Jack London, that's for sure. I'm not going to agree with Krakauer and say that McCandless "conveniently overlooked" these facts; I'm going to say he just didn't know. They would have broken his heart if he did.
A man named Ronald Franz took McCandless in for a short time. He was a leather... tanner? Leather smith? He made leather belts and stuff, that's my point. But he was very inspired by all the the things McCandless talked to him about and told him, to the point of Franz selling his home and moving onto McCandless's campsite, "awaiting his young friend's return" (58). When he discovered McCandless had died: "'When Alex had left for Alaska,' Franz remembers, 'I prayed. I asked God to keep his finger on the shoulder of that one; I told him that boy was special. But he let Alex die. So on December 26, when I learned what happened, I renounced the Lord. I withdrew my church membership and became an atheist. I decided I couldn't believe in a God who would let something that terrible happen to a boy like Alex'" (60). And, later on: "'...bought a bottle of whiskey. And then I went out into the desert and drank it. I wasn't used to drinking, so it made me sick. Hoped it'd kill me, but it didn't. Just made me real, real sick'" (60).
Many Alaskans, after Krakauer wrote an article on McCandless (in 1992, of course) many Alaskans wrote in saying how foolish he was/seemed. And true, McCandless was VERY under prepared. He didn't even have waterproof boots originally, and was carrying something like a 25-pound bag of rice. And books. So... well... he had a very, very, very romanticized view of the Alaskan wilderness. I don't believe he was stupid, just... naive. What he was doing would be okay if he was, say, Jack Kerouac. Kerouac tramped around Mexico and California. Obviously, those places aren't anything like Alaska.
"'I have known too much of the depths of life already, and I would prefer anything to an anticlimax'" (87). Everett Ruess wrote that to his brother before he disappeared into the wilderness--in his case, the desert. In Utah, apparently, near Davis Gulch.
"Everything had changed suddenly--the tone, the moral climate; you didn't know what to think, whom to listen to. As if all your life you had been led by the hand like a small child and suddenly you were on your own, you had to learn to walk by yourself." Remember when I read Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago and I couldn't find the quote I loved in it that was in Into the Wild and was ultimately the key factor in why I decided to read Doctor Zhivago in the first place? Yup. That's the one! It's about growing up, obviously. How you're suddenly an adult and on your own... something I'm not exactly clamoring for.
"For children are innocent and love justice, while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy"--GK Chesterton
"The father is taken aback. What he usually says, in such a confrontation, is 'I changed your diapers for you, you little snot.' First, this is not true... and second, it instantly reminds Sam II of what he is mad about. He is mad about being small when you were big, but no, that's not it, he is mad about being helpless when you were powerful, but no, not that either, he is mad about being contingent when you were necessary, not quite it, he is insane because when he loved you, you didn't notice"--Donald Barthelme
"HAPPINESS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED"--written by Christopher Johnson McCandless in his copy of Doctor Zhivago, found with his corpse
"I HAVE HAD A HAPPY LIFE AND THANK THE LORD. GOOD BYE AND MAY GOD BLESS ALL!"--written by Christopher Johnson McCandless shortly before death
Well, there you have it. The unspoken question--one that becomes more apparent after seeing the film--is if he really shortened his life, or in those few short months he lived more than most do. I'd like to say he lived more than most. Quality over quantity.
Curiously, this struck an interesting chord with me: shortly before reading this book for the first time, I heard about how my grandfather (my mother's father, Charles) went into the woods himself. He apparently hated my great-grandmother, as he was stubborn and unyielding and she was controlling and nasty. Before he left, he said he'd come back in two years--and he did come back, exactly two years later, on the same day and everything. Of course, Connecticut is a lot different from Alaska. It's not the same hardly, but he did live in the woods and scrounge and steal food and live off his wits. In fact, so the story goes, after not getting adequate food for a week he finally managed to steal a chicken. He had taken his dog with him, and the dog was hungry as well (you'd think the dog would have been eating bunnies or something, but no) and it stole the chicken. He took a shovel to the dog's back... well. It didn't have much to do with anything, but it's one of my mom's favorite anecdotes about her father. I wish I had met him.
(I've been really busy this month! You'll probably get maybe two more updates this month, but seriously, it took me NINE days to write this all!)
Also, he refers to a black-and-white silent film (Birth of a Nation) which was pretty cool... I mean, not the fact that it's an incredibly racist film. Just the fact that he referred to it, you know? Old black and white films you know? Though when the book was written it probably wasn't that old... FINE. When I write my book, I'm just going to rip jokes off from Marx Brothers movies and no-one will know because they're 80 years old now. And if someone happens to call me on it? Homaaaaaaaaage.
So! What I will be writing about is a book I actually enjoyed (enjoyeds?). It is Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. The book is written about a true chain of events--A young man named Christopher Johnson McCandless (alias Alexander Supertramp) left school, left his family, and took basically nothing with him into the Alaskan wilderness. I enjoyed the story itself--not so much how it was written--and even the movie. What I mean about not really liking how it was written is that Krakauer started or still does, write in a style... uh, of journalists. It's kind of hard to explain... but you can tell. Or, maybe just I can tell, because I took a journalism class last year. Eugh. Anyway, spoiler alert: Christopher dies. Don't get mad at me--Krakauer reveals this on the second sentence eight pages in. Sooo. Yeah. Now that I've depressed you, read on!:
"I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life." This is from Tolstoy's Family Happiness, which I have not read, but it was found highlighted in one of the books that were found with Christopher's body.
"No longer would he answer to Chris McCandless; he was now Alexander Supertramp, master of his own destiny" (23).
It's thought that McCandless's infatuation with Jack London is what led partially to his walking into the Alaskan bush. Apparently, they were very romantic views of the wild--and by 'apparently' I mean they definitely are. According to Krakauer, Jack London spent "just a single winter in the North" and went on to become an obese drunk who killed himself in his CA estate. Yikes. Kind of ruins my image of Jack London, that's for sure. I'm not going to agree with Krakauer and say that McCandless "conveniently overlooked" these facts; I'm going to say he just didn't know. They would have broken his heart if he did.
A man named Ronald Franz took McCandless in for a short time. He was a leather... tanner? Leather smith? He made leather belts and stuff, that's my point. But he was very inspired by all the the things McCandless talked to him about and told him, to the point of Franz selling his home and moving onto McCandless's campsite, "awaiting his young friend's return" (58). When he discovered McCandless had died: "'When Alex had left for Alaska,' Franz remembers, 'I prayed. I asked God to keep his finger on the shoulder of that one; I told him that boy was special. But he let Alex die. So on December 26, when I learned what happened, I renounced the Lord. I withdrew my church membership and became an atheist. I decided I couldn't believe in a God who would let something that terrible happen to a boy like Alex'" (60). And, later on: "'...bought a bottle of whiskey. And then I went out into the desert and drank it. I wasn't used to drinking, so it made me sick. Hoped it'd kill me, but it didn't. Just made me real, real sick'" (60).
Many Alaskans, after Krakauer wrote an article on McCandless (in 1992, of course) many Alaskans wrote in saying how foolish he was/seemed. And true, McCandless was VERY under prepared. He didn't even have waterproof boots originally, and was carrying something like a 25-pound bag of rice. And books. So... well... he had a very, very, very romanticized view of the Alaskan wilderness. I don't believe he was stupid, just... naive. What he was doing would be okay if he was, say, Jack Kerouac. Kerouac tramped around Mexico and California. Obviously, those places aren't anything like Alaska.
"'I have known too much of the depths of life already, and I would prefer anything to an anticlimax'" (87). Everett Ruess wrote that to his brother before he disappeared into the wilderness--in his case, the desert. In Utah, apparently, near Davis Gulch.
"Everything had changed suddenly--the tone, the moral climate; you didn't know what to think, whom to listen to. As if all your life you had been led by the hand like a small child and suddenly you were on your own, you had to learn to walk by yourself." Remember when I read Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago and I couldn't find the quote I loved in it that was in Into the Wild and was ultimately the key factor in why I decided to read Doctor Zhivago in the first place? Yup. That's the one! It's about growing up, obviously. How you're suddenly an adult and on your own... something I'm not exactly clamoring for.
"For children are innocent and love justice, while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy"--GK Chesterton
"The father is taken aback. What he usually says, in such a confrontation, is 'I changed your diapers for you, you little snot.' First, this is not true... and second, it instantly reminds Sam II of what he is mad about. He is mad about being small when you were big, but no, that's not it, he is mad about being helpless when you were powerful, but no, not that either, he is mad about being contingent when you were necessary, not quite it, he is insane because when he loved you, you didn't notice"--Donald Barthelme
"HAPPINESS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED"--written by Christopher Johnson McCandless in his copy of Doctor Zhivago, found with his corpse
"I HAVE HAD A HAPPY LIFE AND THANK THE LORD. GOOD BYE AND MAY GOD BLESS ALL!"--written by Christopher Johnson McCandless shortly before death
Well, there you have it. The unspoken question--one that becomes more apparent after seeing the film--is if he really shortened his life, or in those few short months he lived more than most do. I'd like to say he lived more than most. Quality over quantity.
Curiously, this struck an interesting chord with me: shortly before reading this book for the first time, I heard about how my grandfather (my mother's father, Charles) went into the woods himself. He apparently hated my great-grandmother, as he was stubborn and unyielding and she was controlling and nasty. Before he left, he said he'd come back in two years--and he did come back, exactly two years later, on the same day and everything. Of course, Connecticut is a lot different from Alaska. It's not the same hardly, but he did live in the woods and scrounge and steal food and live off his wits. In fact, so the story goes, after not getting adequate food for a week he finally managed to steal a chicken. He had taken his dog with him, and the dog was hungry as well (you'd think the dog would have been eating bunnies or something, but no) and it stole the chicken. He took a shovel to the dog's back... well. It didn't have much to do with anything, but it's one of my mom's favorite anecdotes about her father. I wish I had met him.
(I've been really busy this month! You'll probably get maybe two more updates this month, but seriously, it took me NINE days to write this all!)
Monday, January 4, 2010
I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad, I got sunshine in a bag
Well, although William S Burroughs's book The Yage Letters looks long and intimidating, it's only about 80 or so pages. It's pretty enjoyable, until a little more than halfway through when Burroughs decides (predictably) that it would be a good idea to write while drugged (I assume it's while on yage) and writes something weird and gross about FDR. At which point I just kind of clasped my hands over my eyes and sighed: "Oh, William." After that point, I just kind of zoned in and out, to be honest. Hey, you want me to be fully immersed in your book, try not to have written whilst tripping. Yeah. Work on that, Will.
Anyway, the book is mainly Burroughs in South America searching for the fabled drug yage. (Which comes from the yage vine and has affects reportedly similar to marijuana.) The story is told through letters written to his buddy Allen Ginsberg. So, even though it's under 'fiction', it's technically true. Except for the part about FDR and his administration. Uh... I think.
I had a note about all the awful things Burroughs did say about FDR, but honestly, I don't feel comfortable copying them down. However, if you're really that interested, pick up a copy of The Yage Letters Redux. The cover is creamy white/yellow with a map on it and a piece of written on notebook paper that looks like a face. The worst of it is on page 44 of this edition, but it starts on page 41.
Oh, but Burroughs does name-drop HG Wells later on. "Did you ever read HG Wells' The Country of the Blind? About a man stuck in a country where all the other inhabitants had been blind so many generations they had lost the concept of sight. He flips. 'But don't you understand? I can see'" (46). I actually have read it; I read it over the summer. Not that I remember very much about it... I do remember thinking it was one of his few short stories I was really impressed with. The stuff of his that's not famous and well-known today really is kind of 'eh'.
"Yage is space time travel. The room seems to shake and vibrate with motion. The blood and substance of many races, Negro, Polynesian, Mountain Mongol, Desert Nomad, Polyglot Near East, Indian--new races as yet unconceived and unborn, combinations not yet realized passes through your body. Migrations, incredible journeys through deserts and jungles and mountains... across the Pacific in an outrigger canoe to Easter Island. The Composite City where all human potentials are spread out in a vast silent market" (50).
"They succumb to a creeping apathy and die of inertia" (85). Conclusion: when Burroughs isn't high as a kite, he's a wonder at phrasing and eloquence. Too bad that more often than not, he's high as a kite. If you really want to read him, try Junky. Do NOT for the love of God try Naked Lunch. You just want to kill yourself afterwards. I'm not even being over dramatic. I honestly wanted to die.
Anyway, the book is mainly Burroughs in South America searching for the fabled drug yage. (Which comes from the yage vine and has affects reportedly similar to marijuana.) The story is told through letters written to his buddy Allen Ginsberg. So, even though it's under 'fiction', it's technically true. Except for the part about FDR and his administration. Uh... I think.
I had a note about all the awful things Burroughs did say about FDR, but honestly, I don't feel comfortable copying them down. However, if you're really that interested, pick up a copy of The Yage Letters Redux. The cover is creamy white/yellow with a map on it and a piece of written on notebook paper that looks like a face. The worst of it is on page 44 of this edition, but it starts on page 41.
Oh, but Burroughs does name-drop HG Wells later on. "Did you ever read HG Wells' The Country of the Blind? About a man stuck in a country where all the other inhabitants had been blind so many generations they had lost the concept of sight. He flips. 'But don't you understand? I can see'" (46). I actually have read it; I read it over the summer. Not that I remember very much about it... I do remember thinking it was one of his few short stories I was really impressed with. The stuff of his that's not famous and well-known today really is kind of 'eh'.
"Yage is space time travel. The room seems to shake and vibrate with motion. The blood and substance of many races, Negro, Polynesian, Mountain Mongol, Desert Nomad, Polyglot Near East, Indian--new races as yet unconceived and unborn, combinations not yet realized passes through your body. Migrations, incredible journeys through deserts and jungles and mountains... across the Pacific in an outrigger canoe to Easter Island. The Composite City where all human potentials are spread out in a vast silent market" (50).
"They succumb to a creeping apathy and die of inertia" (85). Conclusion: when Burroughs isn't high as a kite, he's a wonder at phrasing and eloquence. Too bad that more often than not, he's high as a kite. If you really want to read him, try Junky. Do NOT for the love of God try Naked Lunch. You just want to kill yourself afterwards. I'm not even being over dramatic. I honestly wanted to die.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
You love you, I love me--so what are we to do?
Guess who's blogging in lieu of finishing her rough draft of an evil project based on a terrible novel assigned by a teacher who most likely enjoys making children cry? If you guessed Angela Shankespeare D, you are correct. If you guessed wrong... well, whose blog do you think you're looking at? Of course I'm going to be talking about myself. God.
So, I read Ovid's Metamorphoses. Contrary to how it may sound, it is not about Ovid's satanic shapeshifting abilities; it is, however, about all the crazy Greek/Roman legends where people shape shift. Which happens quite a lot. Mostly people turn into trees, but they're also turned to dolphins... cows... snakes... you know. The usual. My Wednesday night. (What?)
Anyway, it was interesting. It linked together all these myths, so you'd see things like, ohh, this girl who was turned in a tree had an incestuous affair with her father (true story), who was grandson of this guy who turned into X who happened to be the cousin of Y who is descended straight from Z himself, who can also turn into a snake, an ox or an eagle whenever he feels like it. And even when it doesn't link stories together by lineage, per se, it still ropes them together to create a more complete whole than ever they were before (at least, in any experience of mine reading them). I guess it helps to be familiar with the individual myths, at least some of them, before tackling this. And, of course, it doesn't hurt to be into Greek/Roman mythology. So, Emma, maybe you wouldn't be so hot on this.
At the start of it, Ovid chronicles the beginning of time, from the land growing out of chaos and men being created by Prometheus and all. Of course, the Titans, or demigods, arose out of the union of the earth and sky. Cronus, youngest titan, was urged by his mother to kill his father (she was mad because her husband was horrified by her other sons, who were the Cyclops, and locked them away) and he did. It was said his son would overthrow him, however, so Cronus ate his wife's children to prevent this. Zeus, however, was hidden away till he grew up and attacked his father--and out sprung Zeus's five siblings. Anyway, what's funny is Ovid describes the land as a paradise before Zeus succeeds his father--"Wheat grew wild in the fields; streams flowed with milk and nectar, and honey dripped like sap from hives in the trees" (4). Zeus takes over and basically everything goes to hell. It's kind of strange, actually--well, one that everything would go to hell like that, and two, the awful things that were described. An interesting line says that wives "cooked up their deadly poisons" (4) to kill their husbands, obviously. Something which was still pretty common in Roman times. (The popular method was to boil a toad. The toad's poison would float to the caldron's top, and the woman would skim this off and mix it with her husband's food/wine.) So that's odd, because obviously it wasn't stopped at all... even though Zeus intervened (we'll be there in a second)... So maybe Ovid just wasn't aware of it happened, or denied its existence? Well, whatever. The point is...
Zeus's intervention was, surprise surprise, a great flood! Hmm, that sounds familiar... No? (A 'great flood' shows up in many ancient mythical and religious texts. The one the Biblical story is thought to be based off a flood of the Tigris and Euphrates that went a little overboard.) Which apparently knocked out all of the sinners and terrible people, but obviously, it didn't work well at all... which was clear about thirty seconds after the waters receded. Okay, no surprise, but you'd expect it to be a human sinning, not Zeus himself. Good job raping everyone, Zeus. Setting a great example.
So, I read Ovid's Metamorphoses. Contrary to how it may sound, it is not about Ovid's satanic shapeshifting abilities; it is, however, about all the crazy Greek/Roman legends where people shape shift. Which happens quite a lot. Mostly people turn into trees, but they're also turned to dolphins... cows... snakes... you know. The usual. My Wednesday night. (What?)
Anyway, it was interesting. It linked together all these myths, so you'd see things like, ohh, this girl who was turned in a tree had an incestuous affair with her father (true story), who was grandson of this guy who turned into X who happened to be the cousin of Y who is descended straight from Z himself, who can also turn into a snake, an ox or an eagle whenever he feels like it. And even when it doesn't link stories together by lineage, per se, it still ropes them together to create a more complete whole than ever they were before (at least, in any experience of mine reading them). I guess it helps to be familiar with the individual myths, at least some of them, before tackling this. And, of course, it doesn't hurt to be into Greek/Roman mythology. So, Emma, maybe you wouldn't be so hot on this.
At the start of it, Ovid chronicles the beginning of time, from the land growing out of chaos and men being created by Prometheus and all. Of course, the Titans, or demigods, arose out of the union of the earth and sky. Cronus, youngest titan, was urged by his mother to kill his father (she was mad because her husband was horrified by her other sons, who were the Cyclops, and locked them away) and he did. It was said his son would overthrow him, however, so Cronus ate his wife's children to prevent this. Zeus, however, was hidden away till he grew up and attacked his father--and out sprung Zeus's five siblings. Anyway, what's funny is Ovid describes the land as a paradise before Zeus succeeds his father--"Wheat grew wild in the fields; streams flowed with milk and nectar, and honey dripped like sap from hives in the trees" (4). Zeus takes over and basically everything goes to hell. It's kind of strange, actually--well, one that everything would go to hell like that, and two, the awful things that were described. An interesting line says that wives "cooked up their deadly poisons" (4) to kill their husbands, obviously. Something which was still pretty common in Roman times. (The popular method was to boil a toad. The toad's poison would float to the caldron's top, and the woman would skim this off and mix it with her husband's food/wine.) So that's odd, because obviously it wasn't stopped at all... even though Zeus intervened (we'll be there in a second)... So maybe Ovid just wasn't aware of it happened, or denied its existence? Well, whatever. The point is...
Zeus's intervention was, surprise surprise, a great flood! Hmm, that sounds familiar... No? (A 'great flood' shows up in many ancient mythical and religious texts. The one the Biblical story is thought to be based off a flood of the Tigris and Euphrates that went a little overboard.) Which apparently knocked out all of the sinners and terrible people, but obviously, it didn't work well at all... which was clear about thirty seconds after the waters receded. Okay, no surprise, but you'd expect it to be a human sinning, not Zeus himself. Good job raping everyone, Zeus. Setting a great example.
Okay, one myth that I thought was weird--well, it's Greek--was the story of Semele. First, because she actually allowed Zeus to have his way with her, second, how the child of this union was born. Okay, let me back up. Semele's all happy, having her affair with Zeus. Hera finds out and visits Semele, putting doubt into her head--you know, anyone can say he's a god, has he appeared to you as a god and all that jazz. Semele gets agitated, and of course she asks Zeus if he will. Zeus had previously sworn by the river Styx he would fulfill her wish (it's kind of like triple-dog-daring in that you cannot back out. The difference is, a god physically can't back out of a Styx-swearing. You can back out of triple-dog-daring, but you'll get branded as a wiener forever.) So he does, and burns her to a crisp, but--before she fizzles out completely--he plucks their unborn child from her womb and "inserted it into his thigh, where he could keep it safe as it grew to term" (52). What? I don't care who you are. Thighs cannot incubate children properly. That's why babies don't come out of them!
The story of Narcissus seems a little ridiculous, too. If you really think about it. (This seems to be a problem with a lot of myths, come to think of it.) He never saw himself before? Not even in a rain puddle? Come on. (Narcissus was a man who was so beautiful that one day whilst hunting he happened to glance at himself in a pond and fell completely in love with himself. He stared at himself until he wasted away to nothing, and left in his place was a beautiful flower... go on, guess the name of it. There's a joke about this in Disney's Hercules, too. Something like, "There hasn't been this much love in a place since Narcissus discovered himself." I love that movie.
"What has become of us, a race of warriors, sailors, and statesmen? We braved the weapons of enemies; we dared the perils of the sea and came here from Tyre with honored household gods. Are we now to abandon that and give into superstition and excess, enthusiasm? Are we eager to exchange for the soldier's spear the magic thyrsus of this soi-disant god? Or helmets for flower power and these absurd garlands? 'Love, not war', is an empty and ridiculous slogan; that easy choice is never on the menu... What will we do? Should we go out to meet our enemies holding bouquets?" Okay, so what's being said is basically, you peace mongers are cute, but also you're naive. Which I think is very true. Sing your anti-war slogans till you go blue in the face, but it's not going to stop, realistically, unless we get nuclear winter and everything (and I do mean EVERYTHING, except for maybe prions) dies. And I'm not saying I'm some sort of hardened evil warmonger general guy a la every military-related movie ever, but I'm just saying: peace is an ideal. It's a nice thought, I would certainly like it--some of it--(I'm not certain people really understand the completeness of peace. Peace means no conflict ever. Basically, like being dead. I mean, what's life without conflict? Every interaction is filled with it. Maybe half-peace. Medieval peace.) but it's not realistic. It can't happen, unless you believe in heaven. So, it can't happen until after. And even then, I suspect the angels might be carrying around cattle prods to keep it the way it is. ...I feel like my rant is turning into a Dinosaur Comic. RYAN NORTH! HEY! HOW DOES THIS SOUND FOR A COMIC IDEA? IN EXCHANGE I WOULD LIKE THE T-SHIRT OF T REX HOLDING A MASS OF BALLOONS. IT'S ADORABLE.
The story of Pyramus and Thisbe is interesting as well. You know how it's said that Shankespeare stole from a lot of historical events and other stories? Very Romeo and Juliet. Thisbe is waiting for Pyramus to meet her at their secret meeting-spot, when a lioness comes by to get a drink of water from a nearby spring after eating a calf. Thisbe gets the hell out of there, leaving her cloak behind somehow, and the lioness leaves as well. Pyramus finds bloody footprints and the cloak and stabs himself in the side. Thisbe comes back, puts it all together, and stabs herself in the heart. There's more all around this, but I gave you the bare-bones minimum. Quite honestly, I prefer the Greek version. Romeo and Juliet is my least favorite of all Shankespeare's plays.
So! Who wonders where the word 'hermaphrodite' comes from? Well, it's fair to say it probably has Greek origins, being that 'Aphrodite' was the god of love. But how much do you really know? (How much do you really want to know, for that matter?) Well, this is one of the myths I didn't previously know, so I felt I must include it... Basically, a naiad sees a gorgeous boy. She comes onto him, but he remains impartial, so she apologizes and backs off... and then watches him bathe in a river. She gets so, uh, hot and bothered that she jumps into the water and clings to him, like a "giant squid whose tentacle suckers kiss what they embrace" (73) or ivy that grows up the trunk of a tree and kills it" (73). She prayers that they can always be together like that, and they form into one, multi gendered being. Hermaphroditus, understandably peeved at what has happened, prays that any other man who bathes in that pool should suffer the same fate. And there you have it. Those Greeks, they have an explanation for everything! (What about women?)
"The couple stared in fascinated loathing to see a hooded serpent's head appear from her bosom's cleavage, hiss and spit, flicker its tongue, and retreat into that unimaginable valley" (76). No point to this. This just made me die laughing.
Ohh, at one point (Book VII) describes a plague. The symptoms of the epidemic are as follows: "a burning feeling inside, and a flush on the face from the fever. The tongue is rough and swollen, the lips are parched, and the breathing is strenuous and labored" (140). Aside from that, victims go mad from thirst, dying around wells trying to get to water. Those who reach water drink until bloated, and then until they die. Undoubtedly, this is based on a number of plagues which ripped through Greece at various times. I know for a fact the plague that caused great thirsting was real--not even the vultures would touch the bodies, supposedly. As for the bloating, there was a disease which caused this. A famous thinker of the time decided if he buried himself in manure on a hot day he'd dispel the disease somehow. Surprise, surprise... he died.
"An astonishing thing! A marvel. But they did not rejoice. They wept at the ruin of all their neighbors, and quaked with fear at the power that could, in an instant, transform an earth they had taken for granted and make it strange. Or worse, that the strangeness is always lurking, always there but seldom visible" (167).
Oh, and apparently the Greeks though weasels bear their young through their mouth. Uh? It's probably safe to assume a Greek somewhere thought this and spread it because they saw a mother weasel toting a pup around in her mouth. But still. Mammals, guys! Mammals!
There's also a story about a girl in love with her brother. I find it odd that this would be taboo in Greek or Roman culture. I mean, Zeus is Hera's brother. And if it's okay for guys to sleep around because the head honcho is doing it (it really was okay for a Greek man to sleep around--but if you were a woman you were shamed forever) you think it'd mean anything else he does would be cool with the people. (Did R Kelly use that in his defense? He should have.) And there was a lot of Egyptian influence--and they were definitely cool with that sort of behavior. You want to marry your sister? Sure, whatever. Just make sure your heart isn't heavier than the feather of Truth, you hear?
Another interesting tidbit I noticed: You know how Beowulf is a pagan story with Christian ideals coming into form? Well, this isn't exactly the same thing, but I notice something very un-Greek and very Christian appearing in the text... the mention of Lucifer (IE, Satan). Now, Lucifer means 'morning star'--a term one would figure to be the sun. That is, Helios. Apollo. But he's specifically called Lucifer. Curiouser and curiouser. Lucifer's character isn't described explicitly, merely name-dropped as a character's father, but still. Then again, this was written around 7 AD--so Christianity wouldn't exist yet. So, actually, there's a good chance I just BSed a little. (But then why would Ovid bring in a new name like that instead of just using Helios or Apollo?) Hm... maybe Lucifer was present in the Torah then? (Didn't he got by the name Beelzebub in the Torah, though?) Well... I don't know. Idle wondering, that's all. But if you happen to come across an interesting explanation...
"And now is my poem finished, which not even Jupiter's rage, or fire and sword, or even the greedy gnawings of age shall ever undo. I await my death at some random hour, but all it can take is my body. Over this, it shall have no power. My work, my fame, will continue, ascending as high as the sky, and among the stars the name Ovid will never die but twinkle on forever--wherever the eagle has spread its wings and as long as the Latin language is written and read. If the words of poets have any truth or worth, they give this hope to me, who wrote them--that I shall become them, and live."
So, I forgot to mention earlier, it's an epic poem. So if you're not cool with that sort of thing, also pass this by--though it is much easier than, say, Paradise Lost. It's like a beginner epic poem, I guess.
So, I enjoyed this. Would I buy this? Well... I wouldn't search for it till my blood ran dry and I crumbled to the ground, but if I saw it at a book sale or flea market (where Robby D appeared to have procured this copy) I'd probably pick it up.
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