Taking Time to Reflect

Well, tomorrow marks the ending of my first English class as an official English major. Although the time spent in Into to the English Major was short, I feel that I learned a lot in this small period of time and really became acquainted with the world of literature. This class allowed me to improve my oral presentation skills, and also helped me become more comfortable with analyzing poetry. Before this class, I barely knew how to approach a poem, and by the end of the term, I was able to stand in front of the class and discuss my own analysis of a poem- pretty big transformation. My favorite part of the class was definitely reading and discussing short stories. My favorite stories we read were A Rose for Emily, The Yellow Wallpaper, and A Good Man is Hard to Find. However, if I were to make a suggestion for next year's class, I would have really liked to read more world authors. I would have loved to study some Latin American authors, authors from the Middle East, and African writers. In conclusion, all though this class was fast paced due to the time constraint of J Term, I think this class provides an excellent foundation for aspiring English majors and minors.

A Good Metadrama Is Hard to FInd

"Meta" comes from the Greek prefix meaning "a level beyond." Metatheatre is typically described as a work that allows the audience to feel happiness and sadness at the same time. Metadramas allow us to feel sympathy for the characters, as well as be able to laugh at their circumstances. In a twisted sort of way, Flannery O'Connor's short story, A Good Man Is Hard to Find, can be seem as a metadrama. The story ends tragically with an entire family being killed by a murdered called the "misfit," yet at the same time, it's hard not to find the ending of the story a bit funny because each person in the family showed absolutely zero redeeming qualities. The character who seemed to have the purest heart, turns out to be the one who murders a family in cold blood. 

The Road Not Taken

Unfortunately, we didn't get the chance to read Frost's The Road Not Taken in class, but I wanted to write about it anyway because it is one of my favorite poems. Also, I believe that this poem provides a nice message for the reader, especially a message that college students can relate to, as well as anyone struggling to determine their life path. To bring the poem to life, I found this illustration that I couldn't resist sharing. Although the main character in this illustration took two completely different life paths, one traveling the world, and the other going to college, I felt comforted in the end by seeing that both versions of the man had a content expression on their face by the end of the poem. As a young twenty-something, I often stress and wonder where my life will lead my, and if I will make the right decisions. On one side, the man in the illustration is a chef, on the other he has a corporate job. The man has kids, or the man lives alone with his wife and his dog, but no matter what, the man is happy in each picture. This poem reinforces the fact that it's not exactly the path you take that determines your happiness, you yourself determine your own happiness.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

As a child, my favorite book was Alice in Wonderland, written by Lewis Carol. It was the first "chapter book" that I had completely on my own, so it always held a special place in my heart. I went through a phase where I'd carry the book around with me wherever I went, and I'd even take it to restaurants to read while awaiting the waitress to deliver my chicken tenders. Because of my antiquated obsession of Alice in Wonderland, I had trouble taking T.S. Elliot's poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock seriously because the poem reminded me of the poems within the book, particularly The Walrus and the Carpenter.

"The sun was shining on the sea, 

      Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

      The billows smooth and bright —

And this was odd, because it was

      The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,

      Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

      After the day was done —

"It's very rude of him," she said,

      "To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,

      The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

      No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead —

      There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

      Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

      Such quantities of sand:

If this were only cleared away,'

      They said, it would be grand!'

If seven maids with seven mops

      Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,

      That they could get it clear?'

I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,

      And shed a bitter tear.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!'

      The Walrus did beseech.

A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

      Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,

      To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,

      But never a word he said:

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

      And shook his heavy head —

Meaning to say he did not choose

      To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

      All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

      Their shoes were clean and neat —

And this was odd, because, you know,

      They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

      And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

      And more, and more, and more —

All hopping through the frothy waves,

      And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

      Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

      Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

      And waited in a row.

The time has come,' the Walrus said,

      To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

      Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

      And whether pigs have wings.'

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

      Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

      And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

      They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

      Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

      Are very good indeed —

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

      We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,

      Turning a little blue.

After such kindness, that would be

      A dismal thing to do!'

The night is fine,' the Walrus said.

      Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!

      And you are very nice!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

      Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf —

      I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,

      To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

      And made them trot so quick!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

      The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

      I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

      Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

      Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,

      You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

      But answer came there none —

And this was scarcely odd, because

      They'd eaten every one."

Once I read the line "And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells," I could think of nothing else, and began to picture one of the characters reciting this poem to Alice as she graciously and nervously tries to listen. Instead of Tweedledee and Tweedledum performing The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, I instead picture the Mad Hatter doing so at his tea party, reflecting back on his life, while his guests patiently listen. Also, lines 120-125 ("I grow old...I grow old.../I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled./ Shall I part my hair behind?/ Do I dare to eat a peach?/ I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach./ I have hear the mermaids singing, each to each.") give off a Lewis Carol vibe because of Elliot's funky word choice and because of how the poem sounds a bit "sing-song" at this point.

If nobody has any idea where I am coming from, I'll understand. But that is the beautiful thing about literature, due to the individual readers own experiences and interests, each person is able to identify with a piece in different ways.

Interpreting Lahiri's Literary Work

For class we read Interpreter of Maladies, a short story by Jhumpa Lahiri, about an American-Indian family returning to India as tourists. This is the second work I have read of Lahiri's, the first being her novel, The Namesake. After reading both Interpreter of Maladies and The Namesake, it came to my attention that both works contain characters that feel out of place with themselves and their surroundings. If I were to approach these works through a biographical lens,  I could say that because Lahiri is an American with Bengali parents and a strong Indian heritage, she uses her character's as a way to express and explore her own insecurities as a woman coming from two different worlds. I became more interested in this theory and wanted to know more about Lahiri's background. I found a Youtube video of Lahiri being interviewed on the Diane Rehm show. In the interview, she admits that she will never be able to feel "fully American or fully Indian", that she will always feel as if she is in an "in between zone." It's interesting that in some cases, a reader is able to learn quite a lot about an author through reading their creative works, seeing what secrets the writer chooses to reveal, what insecurities they are willing to expose, and how their background influences their work.

A photo of Jhumpa Lahiri and her husband Alberto Vourvoulias, from Guatemala, having a traditional Indian wedding. 

Click here to watch Diane Rehm's interview with Jhumpa Lahiri.

There's a White Elephant in the Room

Most of us have heard the expression "there's an elephant in the room," which means that there is a truth being ignored or unaddressed. In Hemingway's Hills Like White Elephant's, the story begins with a couple sitting at a bar. However as you begin to read the story, you realize that there is tension between the man and woman.    

"Everything tastes of licorice Especially all the things you've waited so long for, like absinthe."

"Oh, cut it out."

"You started it," the girl said. "I was being amused. I was having a fine time."

"Well, let's try and have a fine time."

"All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn't that bright?"

"That was bright."

"I wanted to try this new drink. That's all we do, isn't it-look at things and try new drinks?"

"I guess so."

                       

There's obviously an elephant in the room that the two can't seem to address just yet. As I read this story, the tension between the two characters made me feel uncomfortable and I felt like I was spying on someone's private conversation. Once the man attempts to abruptly address the elephant, the woman still doesn't want to talk about it, as if she is in denial over the whole situation. Later the reader can assume that an unwanted pregnancy was in fact the elephant in the room. 

Bartleby and the White Man's Burden Attitude

As I read Herman Melville's Bartleby, the Scrivener, I couldn't help but notice how the narrator seemed awfully entitled. The narrator of the story is a lawyer who has employed three copyists, Turkey, Nippers, and Bartleby, as well as an "office boy" called Ginger Nut. Although this story was published decades before Rudyard Kipling's The White Man's Burden, it seems as though the narrator possesses this kind of mentality.

For example, the narrator obsesses over Turkey's appearance saying that his clothes "look oily and smell of eating houses." The narrator is especially concerned about Turkey's coat and thinks that it isn't fit for an Englishman like himself. The narrator decides to take matters into his own hands and gives Turkey "a highly respectable coat" from his own closet. Expecting Turkey to appreciate the gesture, the narrator is surprised when this act instead makes Turkey angry and "insolent."

The narrator likes to portray himself as pious and kind man, but in reality I felt as though he looks down upon his employees and thinks he is better than they are. By giving Turkey a "respectable" coat it is almost as if the narrator is trying to civilize his employee. Also, the fact that the narrator refers to his employee's with unflattering nicknames shows that there is a lack of respect from the employer.