Coon,
I finally figured out what I am going to write about. Here it goes:
Cat's Eye is a novel about identity. Elaine, through her retrospective art show and visit to her childhood city of Toronto, embarks on a journey of self-realization. In a sense it is a twisted, circular bildungsroman. Risley does not develop and understand herself in a linear sense. Instead she has to dig through her past and uncover hidden treasures and burried memories in order to piece back the different aspects of herself. She has a complicated past that leaves her troubled and traumatized till the present. During this mid-life crisis, Elaine has to figure out her past while she wanders the streets and galleries of Toronto. What is interesting is that Elaine has no one to confide these dark memories in; she is all alone on her path to self-discovery. In the opening paragraph Atwood describes time as a set of liquid transparencies, in which different things float to the top or vanish behind the layers. Elaine's memories keep resurfacing and she must deal with each one.
I found a term that describes the archetype of this plot: künstlerroman. It is a specific sub-genre of bildungsroman, chronicaling the growth to maturity of an artist. According to Wiki, "such novels often depict the struggles of a sensitive youth against the values of a bourgeois society of his or her time." This struggle is exactly what the young Elaine faces. I have a good JSTOR source called "Constructing the Self through Memory: "Cat's Eye" as a Novel of Female Development." I will be using this as my primary source; however I'm have a lot of trouble finding more sources related to both this topic and to Cat's Eye.
Elaine's overpowering feelings of shame, confinement, paranoia, and fear hold her back from feeling the freedom that a small child should feel. She inflicts self harm and spends years of her life under constant scrutiny of her "friends" and especially under the piercing glare of Cordelia. The only place Elaine finds refuge is hiding at home or when the family goes on vacation; only then is she finally free.
If you have any advice on finding some more articles, that would be extremely helpful, Mr. Coon.
(362)
Monday, April 28, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Looking Into the Cat's Eye: Email No. 2
Continuing to read Cat's Eye, I have delved deeper into the psyche and haunting memories of Risley. Sifting through her childhood memories, she is tormented by her "girl friends" and these dreadful events are the inspiration for her artwork. Each chapter is titled after one of her paintings; just as her artwork, each memory is very chilling. Although Risley is fifty years old, memories from her childhood are still vivid and disturbing. She has not yet broken free from her past.
I'm in awe at Atwood's ability to describe the power struggles between young, seemingly innocent girls. Female society has rules of its own, and it's fascinating to see a feminist writer's depiction of sinister little girls. I am still trying to understand the complex effect Cordelia has on Risley. I have never read a novel where a character is so consumed and disturbed by the mere memory of another person. As the novel progresses, Risley's digust and repulsion towards Cordelia increases. However, although she pretends to move on from her traumatic experiences with her best friend, Risley never forgets these powerful memories. Cordelia's ability to influence the other girls to psychologically and emotionally hurt Risley is fascinating in itself. The power she holds over all her friends is a tad bit scary.
I am having a hard time deciding what to focus on for my paper. The major themes that I am interested in are Risley's psyche and how it is expressed through her art (and how it is the inspiration for her works), the complex realm of female relationships, and the concept of "memories", or Atwood's take on the the definition of "evil".
Sources:
1. Constructing the Self through Memory: "Cat's Eye" as a Novel of Female Development
Carol Osborne
Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies, Vol. 14, No. 3 (1994), pp. 95-112
Published by: University of Nebraska Press
2. Science for Feminists: Margaret Atwood's Body of Knowledge
June Deery
Twentieth Century Literature, Vol. 43, No. 4 (Winter, 1997), pp. 470-486
Published by: Hofstra University
3. Virgin Mary Motif in Cat's Eye: http://www.answers.com/topic/cat-s-eye-novel-8
I'm in awe at Atwood's ability to describe the power struggles between young, seemingly innocent girls. Female society has rules of its own, and it's fascinating to see a feminist writer's depiction of sinister little girls. I am still trying to understand the complex effect Cordelia has on Risley. I have never read a novel where a character is so consumed and disturbed by the mere memory of another person. As the novel progresses, Risley's digust and repulsion towards Cordelia increases. However, although she pretends to move on from her traumatic experiences with her best friend, Risley never forgets these powerful memories. Cordelia's ability to influence the other girls to psychologically and emotionally hurt Risley is fascinating in itself. The power she holds over all her friends is a tad bit scary.
I am having a hard time deciding what to focus on for my paper. The major themes that I am interested in are Risley's psyche and how it is expressed through her art (and how it is the inspiration for her works), the complex realm of female relationships, and the concept of "memories", or Atwood's take on the the definition of "evil".
Sources:
1. Constructing the Self through Memory: "Cat's Eye" as a Novel of Female Development
Carol Osborne
Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies, Vol. 14, No. 3 (1994), pp. 95-112
Published by: University of Nebraska Press
2. Science for Feminists: Margaret Atwood's Body of Knowledge
June Deery
Twentieth Century Literature, Vol. 43, No. 4 (Winter, 1997), pp. 470-486
Published by: Hofstra University
3. Virgin Mary Motif in Cat's Eye: http://www.answers.com/topic/cat-s-eye-novel-8
Friday, April 11, 2008
Looking Into the Cat's Eye: Email No. 1
Cat's Eye Nebula
Raccoon,I am in section three of Cat's Eye and here is what I have gathered about the story and characters so far.
Elaine Risley is a woman who is troubled by her past. The novel is told through a first person narrator with many flashbacks, so the reader is able to re witness some crucial and some not-so crucial memories. Elaine's mind is constantly bombarded with moments from the past, especially of her family and her best friend/greatest enemy Cordelia. At first, it appears that Cordelia and Elaine had a nice, childhood friendship. However, once Elaine enters Toronto she has mixed feelings about encountering Cordelia. She wants to talk to her, ignore her, she even pictures her in an iron lung, unconscious. It is apparent in the first chapter that Cordelia has had a lasting and profound effect on Elaine and, from what I've gathered, Elaine's artwork.
The flashbacks so far are about Elaine's childhood. They especially focus on her family life and how nomadic they were. She traveled a lot and never really had any close girl friends. It was always Elaine and her brother playing games that young boys would play. In a paragraph, she reveals how much she desired to have a girl friend and how she wanted to be normal. She gets that wish. Finally, her forest-entomologist father finds a stationary job, and the family settles down in Toronto. However, Elaine reveals, "In my dreams of this city I am always lost." Entering Toronto has dusted off the album of her past and her mind is flooded with memories, both good and bad.
What I love most about this novel is Atwood's use of language and how accurately and beautifully she describes things that I would have a hard time putting into words. One of my favorite lines is, " It's evening, one of those gray watercolor washes, like liquid dust, the city comes up with in fall." Not to mention, I love all of the art terminology! Atwood's style is detailed, flowing, tangential, and entertaining. I enjoy reading this story. However, I feel as if I haven't reached the meat of the plot just yet. I realize that Atwood is foreshadowing Elaine's relationships through her flashbacks. But for now, I don't know what's going to happen.
In my research prior to getting this novel, I found that the story revolves around female relationships, the forming of one's self-identity, and the concept of time and the past. Elaine in the opening chapter says, "But I began to think of time as having a shape, something you could see, like a series of liquid transparencies, one laid on top of another. You don't look back along time but down through it, like water. Sometimes this comes to the surface, something that, something nothing. Nothing goes away." From reading the first 50-60 pages, I see this idea illustrated through Atwood's language. She is exploring multiple layers of Elaine's life. Certain memories and emotions remain on the surface, while others sink but are not quite lost to the abyss. This is a complicated novel, and I am only beginning to explore it.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Finding Freedom
She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when a sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To everything on earth the compass round,
And only by one's going slightly taut
In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightest bondage made aware.
So often, structure denotes function. This handy saying is especially relevant when analyzing Robert Frost’s poem “A Silken Tent.” This one-sentence Shakespearean sonnet appears quite relaxed, but is really strict in nature. Frost explores the emotional ties a woman has to her relationships and the effect they have on her. At the same time, Frost exercises his artist license by toying with the sonnet and elevating it to new heights. The structure of this poem enhances the poem’s function and meaning.
Frost begins the poem with a simile that morphs into an extended metaphor. Frost departs from convention by comparing a woman to a silken tent, not merely to a silk cloth. Silk is beautiful but deceptively strong, like the woman he is describing. She is supported by a central cedar pole, which is connected to the earth by multiple silken ties. Cedar is a fragrant wood that is known for its durability. Cedar also has spiritual and religious undertones since it is famous for being used in the construction of King Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem. Not surprisingly, Frost describes it as pointing heavenward. This sturdy, heavenly-bound pole represents the strength of the woman’s soul. Although the cedar pole stretches towards heaven, the tent is grounded by a circumference of silken ties of love and thought that gently keep it stationary. These ties are delicate and the woman seems almost detached and free from their pull. In the ending couplet, Frost changes his tone. He describes the silken ties of love and thought as bondage. We, the readers, are thrown off course. Were not the ties of love and thought a good thing? Bondage is a much stronger force than a gentle tug of the fabric. Now the silk seems more like spider silk, as strong as steel. And when it tugs at her soul, it forcefully pulls her. Remarkably, the woman in this poem still seems free of any bondage whatsoever. She, the tent, softly sways in an Arcadian summer breeze.
This extended metaphor describes the nature of women and their relationships and responsibilities. The sureness of her soul is supplied by a deep investment in the world around her. She is “loosely bound / By countless silken ties of love and thought / To everything on earth the compass round.” This particular woman sees her relationships as uplifting yet grounding, but never binding or restrictive. The silken ties keep her (the tent) in place when the wind tries to sway her. The woman’s “sureness of the soul” is a product of her ties of love and thought. And yet, the ties seem like emotional bondage when circumstances cause them to tug on her. She lives happily, comfortably, and freely within these barely noticeable boundaries. Frost too seems to defy limitations in this poem.
Frost flaunts his technical mastery of language and form. The sonnet form is the backbone of the poem, like the cedar pole is the center of strength for the woman. From this point, both the woman the poem exert their freedom, while never losing sight of what supports them. He transforms a strict, Shakespearean sonnet into a loose, conversational description of a woman. Frost conceals the rhyme scheme by using a technique called enjambment. He does not place most of the natural pauses at the end of a line, thereby diminishing the effect of the ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme. However, once read with alert ears, the rhyme is clearly noticeable. By de-emphasizing the rhyme, this piece seems less formal and more personal. This conversational undertone is further enhanced by the fact that the entire sonnet is a single sentence and is in iambic pentameter, the natural meter of speech. For writing one of the strictest and most difficult poem forms, Frost achieves a great deal of freedom within the confines of a traditional sonnet.
The structure of this poem echoes the condition of the woman it describes: it exercises a great deal of freedom within strict boundaries. The tent is bound to the earth by countless silken ties but still seems free. We all exercise our freedom within the confines of life. As Robert Frost himself said, “You have freedom when you're easy in your harness."
(707)
1. Do you believe the woman in this poem is free?
2. What do you think Frost means by "bondage"? What is holding the woman down?
3. Why does Frost turn the tone of the poem in the last line?
4. What is the implied meaning of this poem?
At midday when a sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To everything on earth the compass round,
And only by one's going slightly taut
In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightest bondage made aware.
So often, structure denotes function. This handy saying is especially relevant when analyzing Robert Frost’s poem “A Silken Tent.” This one-sentence Shakespearean sonnet appears quite relaxed, but is really strict in nature. Frost explores the emotional ties a woman has to her relationships and the effect they have on her. At the same time, Frost exercises his artist license by toying with the sonnet and elevating it to new heights. The structure of this poem enhances the poem’s function and meaning.
Frost begins the poem with a simile that morphs into an extended metaphor. Frost departs from convention by comparing a woman to a silken tent, not merely to a silk cloth. Silk is beautiful but deceptively strong, like the woman he is describing. She is supported by a central cedar pole, which is connected to the earth by multiple silken ties. Cedar is a fragrant wood that is known for its durability. Cedar also has spiritual and religious undertones since it is famous for being used in the construction of King Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem. Not surprisingly, Frost describes it as pointing heavenward. This sturdy, heavenly-bound pole represents the strength of the woman’s soul. Although the cedar pole stretches towards heaven, the tent is grounded by a circumference of silken ties of love and thought that gently keep it stationary. These ties are delicate and the woman seems almost detached and free from their pull. In the ending couplet, Frost changes his tone. He describes the silken ties of love and thought as bondage. We, the readers, are thrown off course. Were not the ties of love and thought a good thing? Bondage is a much stronger force than a gentle tug of the fabric. Now the silk seems more like spider silk, as strong as steel. And when it tugs at her soul, it forcefully pulls her. Remarkably, the woman in this poem still seems free of any bondage whatsoever. She, the tent, softly sways in an Arcadian summer breeze.
This extended metaphor describes the nature of women and their relationships and responsibilities. The sureness of her soul is supplied by a deep investment in the world around her. She is “loosely bound / By countless silken ties of love and thought / To everything on earth the compass round.” This particular woman sees her relationships as uplifting yet grounding, but never binding or restrictive. The silken ties keep her (the tent) in place when the wind tries to sway her. The woman’s “sureness of the soul” is a product of her ties of love and thought. And yet, the ties seem like emotional bondage when circumstances cause them to tug on her. She lives happily, comfortably, and freely within these barely noticeable boundaries. Frost too seems to defy limitations in this poem.
Frost flaunts his technical mastery of language and form. The sonnet form is the backbone of the poem, like the cedar pole is the center of strength for the woman. From this point, both the woman the poem exert their freedom, while never losing sight of what supports them. He transforms a strict, Shakespearean sonnet into a loose, conversational description of a woman. Frost conceals the rhyme scheme by using a technique called enjambment. He does not place most of the natural pauses at the end of a line, thereby diminishing the effect of the ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme. However, once read with alert ears, the rhyme is clearly noticeable. By de-emphasizing the rhyme, this piece seems less formal and more personal. This conversational undertone is further enhanced by the fact that the entire sonnet is a single sentence and is in iambic pentameter, the natural meter of speech. For writing one of the strictest and most difficult poem forms, Frost achieves a great deal of freedom within the confines of a traditional sonnet.
The structure of this poem echoes the condition of the woman it describes: it exercises a great deal of freedom within strict boundaries. The tent is bound to the earth by countless silken ties but still seems free. We all exercise our freedom within the confines of life. As Robert Frost himself said, “You have freedom when you're easy in your harness."
(707)
1. Do you believe the woman in this poem is free?
2. What do you think Frost means by "bondage"? What is holding the woman down?
3. Why does Frost turn the tone of the poem in the last line?
4. What is the implied meaning of this poem?
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Behind the Mask
A Doll’s House is a play of mistaken identities. Not only are the characters within the play deceived by appearances, but so are the readers. Nora in particular is a victim of prejudice from the players and the viewers.
In our first encounter with Nora, we see a silly, weak, marionette-like woman who is controlled by her fear of disappointing her husband. However, as the play ensues, circumstances reveal different layers of Nora’s persona. Each character and memory teaches us something new about the Nora beneath the façade.
Although Torvald has been married to Nora for eight year, he knows nothing about her. He squeezes her into his mold for a wife: obedient, innocent, spend thrifty, etc. He treats her like his pet, his doll so to speak. However, Nora soon has an epiphany in which she realizes that Torvald is selfish, careless, and shallow. He does not care for Nora’s needs. She hopes that a miracle will come true and he will be a changed man. But when the opportunity for him to prove himself as a good husband arises, he fails to take charge. At this point, Nora gathered the courage to do what was socially unacceptable: she leaves Torvald. (Interesting thought, she always says, “Torvald loves me,” never “I love Torvald”)
Mrs. Linde is a vital character in the play because she shows Nora that a woman can survive on her own. Mrs. Linde is a widow and has been forced to fend for herself. Seeing this, Nora talks to her maid and we hear her first ponderings of leaving. She asks if her children will be well taken care of if she leaves the house, and the maid reassures her that they will.
By the end of A Doll’s House, we see that Nora is a passionate, motivated, and confident woman who is not a puppet, but rather the puppeteer of her own show. She cuts the strings that connect her to her home and takes control of her life. In Victorian England, the ending of a play was at best taboo. Women, especially married women, could never walk out on their husbands or family because it was considered socially and morally wrong. However, Ibsen was ahead of his time and he shows us that the conviction of a person is stronger than the norms of a society.
In our first encounter with Nora, we see a silly, weak, marionette-like woman who is controlled by her fear of disappointing her husband. However, as the play ensues, circumstances reveal different layers of Nora’s persona. Each character and memory teaches us something new about the Nora beneath the façade.
Although Torvald has been married to Nora for eight year, he knows nothing about her. He squeezes her into his mold for a wife: obedient, innocent, spend thrifty, etc. He treats her like his pet, his doll so to speak. However, Nora soon has an epiphany in which she realizes that Torvald is selfish, careless, and shallow. He does not care for Nora’s needs. She hopes that a miracle will come true and he will be a changed man. But when the opportunity for him to prove himself as a good husband arises, he fails to take charge. At this point, Nora gathered the courage to do what was socially unacceptable: she leaves Torvald. (Interesting thought, she always says, “Torvald loves me,” never “I love Torvald”)
Mrs. Linde is a vital character in the play because she shows Nora that a woman can survive on her own. Mrs. Linde is a widow and has been forced to fend for herself. Seeing this, Nora talks to her maid and we hear her first ponderings of leaving. She asks if her children will be well taken care of if she leaves the house, and the maid reassures her that they will.
By the end of A Doll’s House, we see that Nora is a passionate, motivated, and confident woman who is not a puppet, but rather the puppeteer of her own show. She cuts the strings that connect her to her home and takes control of her life. In Victorian England, the ending of a play was at best taboo. Women, especially married women, could never walk out on their husbands or family because it was considered socially and morally wrong. However, Ibsen was ahead of his time and he shows us that the conviction of a person is stronger than the norms of a society.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
A little more than text, and less than obvious: Subtext
SCENE IV. The Queen's closet.
Enter QUEEN MARGARET and POLONIUS
LORD POLONIUS
He will come straight. Look you lay home to him:Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,And that your grace hath screen'd and stood betweenMuch heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.Pray you, be round with him.
HAMLET
[Within] Mother, mother, mother!
QUEEN GERTRUDE
I'll warrant you,Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.
[Gertrude frantically gesticulates to the arras, commanding Polonius in harsh whisper]
POLONIUS hides behind the arras
Enter HAMLET
HAMLET
Now, mother, what's the matter?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. [Gertrude speaks her lines before the murder in a concerned tone. She is troubled and confused by the recent lunacy of her only son, Prince Hamlet]
HAMLET
Mother, you have my father much offended. [Hamlet retorts in a jokingly snide manner]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
HAMLET
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. [With every line, Hamlet takes a step closer to Gertrude--increasing the tension between them while decreasing the distance between them. Also, he speaks faster and faster until Gertrude screams for help]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Why, how now, Hamlet!
HAMLET
What's the matter now?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Have you forgot me?
HAMLET
No, by the rood, not so:You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.
HAMLET
Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;You go not till I set you up a glassWhere you may see the inmost part of you. [By now, Hamlet has encroached uncomfortably close to his mother, frightening her. He stares deep into her eyes, dominating her with his gaze]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?Help, help, ho!
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help!
HAMLET
[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead! [Hamlet, in a moment of blind rage and shock murders Polonius, unaware of who he is actually killing]
Makes a pass through the arras
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] O, I am slain! [Polonius, in severe pain, utters his last and unfortunately PGIO-ish words]
Falls and dies
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET
Nay, I know not:Is it the king? [Hamlet is terrified that he may have killed Cladius; however, he secretly wishes he had]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
HAMLET
A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,As kill a king, and marry with his brother. [Hamlet has found the perfect moment to reveal the truth about King Hamlet’s murder. He takes his time to say these lines powerfully]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
As kill a king! [Gertrude: Paralyzed by truth]
HAMLET
Ay, lady, 'twas my word.
Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,If it be made of penetrable stuff,If damned custom have not brass'd it soThat it is proof and bulwark against sense. [Hamlet, enraged and disgusted by Polonius, insults the corpse]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongueIn noise so rude against me? [quivers in fear, but holds onto her strength, because now she has no one to protect her if Hamlet does try to kill her]
HAMLET
Such an actThat blurs the grace and blush of modesty,Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the roseFrom the fair forehead of an innocent loveAnd sets a blister there, makes marriage-vowsAs false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deedAs from the body of contraction plucksThe very soul, and sweet religion makesA rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow:Yea, this solidity and compound mass,With tristful visage, as against the doom,Is thought-sick at the act. [Here, Hamlet disregards her question and stabs his mother with a philosophical rant about how she has, in essence, “sinned” against the act of marriage. Hamlet, “speak[s] daggers to her but use[s] none.”]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Ay me, what act,That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?
HAMLET
Look here, upon this picture, and on this,The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.See, what a grace was seated on this brow;Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;A station like the herald MercuryNew-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;A combination and a form indeed,Where every god did seem to set his seal,To give the world assurance of a man:This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?You cannot call it love; for at your ageThe hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,And waits upon the judgment: and what judgmentWould step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,Else could you not have motion; but sure, that senseIs apoplex'd; for madness would not err,Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'dBut it reserved some quantity of choice,To serve in such a difference. What devil was'tThat thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,Or but a sickly part of one true senseCould not so mope.O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shameWhen the compulsive ardour gives the charge,Since frost itself as actively doth burnAnd reason panders will.
[Hamlet is stern, but confronts his mother in a pleading way. He wants her realize her wrongs]
[Hamlet doesn’t need any paintings of his father and Cladius to demonstrate his point in this monologue. He paints the Queen a majestic image of his father, as if to remind her what an incredible man he was. He accuses her of being blind.]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, speak no more:Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;And there I see such black and grained spotsAs will not leave their tinct. [His speech has struck a chord with the queen. She turns and says these lines, because she needs to explore this revelation by herself, if only psychologically alone]
HAMLET
Nay, but to liveIn the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making loveOver the nasty sty,-- [says in a disgusted tone]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, speak to me no more;These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears;No more, sweet Hamlet! [tears welling in her eyes]
HAMLET
A murderer and a villain;A slave that is not twentieth part the titheOf your precedent lord; a vice of kings;A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,And put it in his pocket!
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No more!
HAMLET
A king of shreds and patches,--
Enter Ghost
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? [reaches to the Ghost, as if to an angel]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, he's mad!
HAMLET
Do you not come your tardy son to chide,That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go byThe important acting of your dread command? O, say!
Ghost
Do not forget: this visitationIs but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:O, step between her and her fighting soul:Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:Speak to her, Hamlet. [a firm reminder than Hamlet must no stray from his mission (and that he can't go overboard)]
HAMLET
How is it with you, lady? [comforts mother]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, how is't with you,That you do bend your eye on vacancyAnd with the incorporal air do hold discourse?Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,Upon the heat and flame of thy distemperSprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
HAMLET
On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;Lest with this piteous action you convertMy stern effects: then what I have to doWill want true colour; tears perchance for blood.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
To whom do you speak this? [bewildered]
HAMLET
Do you see nothing there?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
HAMLET
Nor did you nothing hear? [momentarily questions his sanity]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No, nothing but ourselves.
HAMLET
Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!My father, in his habit as he lived!Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! [points, tries to show mom]
Exit Ghost
QUEEN GERTRUDE
This the very coinage of your brain:This bodiless creation ecstasyIs very cunning in. [thinks Hamlet's gone off the deep end]
HAMLET
Ecstasy!My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,And makes as healthful music: it is not madnessThat I have utter'd: bring me to the test,And I the matter will re-word; which madnessWould gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,Lay not that mattering unction to your soul,That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;And do not spread the compost on the weeds,To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;For in the fatness of these pursy timesVirtue itself of vice must pardon beg,Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. [wanting to prove his sanity, Hamlet makes a case for himself. He turns the conversation onto Gertrude's mistakes, telling her to repent.]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. [Gertrude releases this line like a sigh. (translation: Hamlet, You have broken my heart in two) She is emotionally torn between her son's madness and her recent revelation about her former husband's murder. The queen is burdened with truth and confusion.]
HAMLET
O, throw away the worser part of it,And live the purer with the other half.Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;Assume a virtue, if you have it not.That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,That to the use of actions fair and goodHe likewise gives a frock or livery,That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,And that shall lend a kind of easinessTo the next abstinence: the next more easy;For use almost can change the stamp of nature,And either [ ] the devil, or throw him outWith wondrous potency. Once more, good night:And when you are desirous to be bless'd,I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,
Pointing to POLONIUS
I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,To punish me with this and this with me,That I must be their scourge and minister.I will bestow him, and will answer wellThe death I gave him. So, again, good night.I must be cruel, only to be kind:Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.One word more, good lady. [Hamlet assumes the role of a godsend, whose duty was to kill Polonius and expose the truth. He says these lines proudly and heroically]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What shall I do?
HAMLET
Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,Make you to ravel all this matter out,That I essentially am not in madness,But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?No, in despite of sense and secrecy,Unpeg the basket on the house's top.Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape,To try conclusions, in the basket creep,And break your own neck down. [domineeringly commands her not to tell anyone of his false madness. ]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Be thou assured, if words be made of breath,And breath of life, I have no life to breatheWhat thou hast said to me. [fraily assures Hamlet, that she has no life or will to speak ill of him or reveal his 'secret']
Enter QUEEN MARGARET and POLONIUS
LORD POLONIUS
He will come straight. Look you lay home to him:Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,And that your grace hath screen'd and stood betweenMuch heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.Pray you, be round with him.
HAMLET
[Within] Mother, mother, mother!
QUEEN GERTRUDE
I'll warrant you,Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.
[Gertrude frantically gesticulates to the arras, commanding Polonius in harsh whisper]
POLONIUS hides behind the arras
Enter HAMLET
HAMLET
Now, mother, what's the matter?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. [Gertrude speaks her lines before the murder in a concerned tone. She is troubled and confused by the recent lunacy of her only son, Prince Hamlet]
HAMLET
Mother, you have my father much offended. [Hamlet retorts in a jokingly snide manner]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
HAMLET
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. [With every line, Hamlet takes a step closer to Gertrude--increasing the tension between them while decreasing the distance between them. Also, he speaks faster and faster until Gertrude screams for help]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Why, how now, Hamlet!
HAMLET
What's the matter now?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Have you forgot me?
HAMLET
No, by the rood, not so:You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.
HAMLET
Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;You go not till I set you up a glassWhere you may see the inmost part of you. [By now, Hamlet has encroached uncomfortably close to his mother, frightening her. He stares deep into her eyes, dominating her with his gaze]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?Help, help, ho!
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help!
HAMLET
[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead! [Hamlet, in a moment of blind rage and shock murders Polonius, unaware of who he is actually killing]
Makes a pass through the arras
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] O, I am slain! [Polonius, in severe pain, utters his last and unfortunately PGIO-ish words]
Falls and dies
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET
Nay, I know not:Is it the king? [Hamlet is terrified that he may have killed Cladius; however, he secretly wishes he had]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
HAMLET
A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,As kill a king, and marry with his brother. [Hamlet has found the perfect moment to reveal the truth about King Hamlet’s murder. He takes his time to say these lines powerfully]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
As kill a king! [Gertrude: Paralyzed by truth]
HAMLET
Ay, lady, 'twas my word.
Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,If it be made of penetrable stuff,If damned custom have not brass'd it soThat it is proof and bulwark against sense. [Hamlet, enraged and disgusted by Polonius, insults the corpse]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongueIn noise so rude against me? [quivers in fear, but holds onto her strength, because now she has no one to protect her if Hamlet does try to kill her]
HAMLET
Such an actThat blurs the grace and blush of modesty,Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the roseFrom the fair forehead of an innocent loveAnd sets a blister there, makes marriage-vowsAs false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deedAs from the body of contraction plucksThe very soul, and sweet religion makesA rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow:Yea, this solidity and compound mass,With tristful visage, as against the doom,Is thought-sick at the act. [Here, Hamlet disregards her question and stabs his mother with a philosophical rant about how she has, in essence, “sinned” against the act of marriage. Hamlet, “speak[s] daggers to her but use[s] none.”]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Ay me, what act,That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?
HAMLET
Look here, upon this picture, and on this,The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.See, what a grace was seated on this brow;Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;A station like the herald MercuryNew-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;A combination and a form indeed,Where every god did seem to set his seal,To give the world assurance of a man:This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?You cannot call it love; for at your ageThe hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,And waits upon the judgment: and what judgmentWould step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,Else could you not have motion; but sure, that senseIs apoplex'd; for madness would not err,Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'dBut it reserved some quantity of choice,To serve in such a difference. What devil was'tThat thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,Or but a sickly part of one true senseCould not so mope.O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shameWhen the compulsive ardour gives the charge,Since frost itself as actively doth burnAnd reason panders will.
[Hamlet is stern, but confronts his mother in a pleading way. He wants her realize her wrongs]
[Hamlet doesn’t need any paintings of his father and Cladius to demonstrate his point in this monologue. He paints the Queen a majestic image of his father, as if to remind her what an incredible man he was. He accuses her of being blind.]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, speak no more:Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;And there I see such black and grained spotsAs will not leave their tinct. [His speech has struck a chord with the queen. She turns and says these lines, because she needs to explore this revelation by herself, if only psychologically alone]
HAMLET
Nay, but to liveIn the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making loveOver the nasty sty,-- [says in a disgusted tone]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, speak to me no more;These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears;No more, sweet Hamlet! [tears welling in her eyes]
HAMLET
A murderer and a villain;A slave that is not twentieth part the titheOf your precedent lord; a vice of kings;A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,And put it in his pocket!
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No more!
HAMLET
A king of shreds and patches,--
Enter Ghost
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? [reaches to the Ghost, as if to an angel]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, he's mad!
HAMLET
Do you not come your tardy son to chide,That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go byThe important acting of your dread command? O, say!
Ghost
Do not forget: this visitationIs but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:O, step between her and her fighting soul:Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:Speak to her, Hamlet. [a firm reminder than Hamlet must no stray from his mission (and that he can't go overboard)]
HAMLET
How is it with you, lady? [comforts mother]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, how is't with you,That you do bend your eye on vacancyAnd with the incorporal air do hold discourse?Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,Upon the heat and flame of thy distemperSprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
HAMLET
On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;Lest with this piteous action you convertMy stern effects: then what I have to doWill want true colour; tears perchance for blood.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
To whom do you speak this? [bewildered]
HAMLET
Do you see nothing there?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
HAMLET
Nor did you nothing hear? [momentarily questions his sanity]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No, nothing but ourselves.
HAMLET
Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!My father, in his habit as he lived!Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! [points, tries to show mom]
Exit Ghost
QUEEN GERTRUDE
This the very coinage of your brain:This bodiless creation ecstasyIs very cunning in. [thinks Hamlet's gone off the deep end]
HAMLET
Ecstasy!My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,And makes as healthful music: it is not madnessThat I have utter'd: bring me to the test,And I the matter will re-word; which madnessWould gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,Lay not that mattering unction to your soul,That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;And do not spread the compost on the weeds,To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;For in the fatness of these pursy timesVirtue itself of vice must pardon beg,Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. [wanting to prove his sanity, Hamlet makes a case for himself. He turns the conversation onto Gertrude's mistakes, telling her to repent.]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. [Gertrude releases this line like a sigh. (translation: Hamlet, You have broken my heart in two) She is emotionally torn between her son's madness and her recent revelation about her former husband's murder. The queen is burdened with truth and confusion.]
HAMLET
O, throw away the worser part of it,And live the purer with the other half.Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;Assume a virtue, if you have it not.That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,That to the use of actions fair and goodHe likewise gives a frock or livery,That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,And that shall lend a kind of easinessTo the next abstinence: the next more easy;For use almost can change the stamp of nature,And either [ ] the devil, or throw him outWith wondrous potency. Once more, good night:And when you are desirous to be bless'd,I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,
Pointing to POLONIUS
I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,To punish me with this and this with me,That I must be their scourge and minister.I will bestow him, and will answer wellThe death I gave him. So, again, good night.I must be cruel, only to be kind:Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.One word more, good lady. [Hamlet assumes the role of a godsend, whose duty was to kill Polonius and expose the truth. He says these lines proudly and heroically]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What shall I do?
HAMLET
Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,Make you to ravel all this matter out,That I essentially am not in madness,But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?No, in despite of sense and secrecy,Unpeg the basket on the house's top.Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape,To try conclusions, in the basket creep,And break your own neck down. [domineeringly commands her not to tell anyone of his false madness. ]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Be thou assured, if words be made of breath,And breath of life, I have no life to breatheWhat thou hast said to me. [fraily assures Hamlet, that she has no life or will to speak ill of him or reveal his 'secret']
Monday, February 18, 2008
Hamlet Websites
Mr. Coon,
I've been doing some research for some good websites on Hamlet. Here's what I've found so far:
1)Shakespeare-Online
2)To paint or not to paint? That is the question. Art of Hamlet
3)Critical Appreciation of Hamlet
4)An essay on how Disney's The Lion King was loosely based on Hamlet!
Hamlet and the Grave Digger
Pascal A.J. Dagnan-Bouveret
I've been doing some research for some good websites on Hamlet. Here's what I've found so far:
1)Shakespeare-Online
2)To paint or not to paint? That is the question. Art of Hamlet
3)Critical Appreciation of Hamlet
4)An essay on how Disney's The Lion King was loosely based on Hamlet!
Hamlet and the Grave Digger
Pascal A.J. Dagnan-Bouveret
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Maktub
A quick note:
Ignorance is bliss. Normally I would not agree with this saying. However, Oedipus would have benefited from not knowing his true nature. Also, my own ignorance of the play’s dramatic irony would have saved my endocrine system a lot of misery while reading this painfully ironic play. Despite my struggle for wanting to slap Oedipus in the face many times during the tragedy, this is my favorite piece of literature we have read all year.
Sophocles was a master of his art. It broke my heart to find out that only seven of his alleged 120 plays survived for my eyes to read. Sophocles weaved an elegant tapestry of truth, light, sight, and destiny. What touched me most about Oedipus Rex was the dynamic struggle of a man against his fate. However, Mr. Coon, today you said that “fate is character.” And how can one escape that?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is one word in Arabic that describes fate: maktub. Translated, maktub means, “It is written.” The word is commonly used in the contexts of chance and destiny. Applying this word to Oedipus’ story, I believe that both he and the gods wrote his fate. Now, I know you may be thinking, “Deepa…fate and free will are NOT compatible! They are like oil and water, dinosaurs and giant asteroids, Bush and any life form of reasonable intelligence!” How could Oedipus write his own fate, when presumably it was already written? Well, I’m not sure. However, sifting through this Theban play, I found that Sophocles incorporates both possibilities into this tale.
Here is my mystery to solve: Who is the culprit of Oedipus’s tragic destiny, free will or Fate?
Searching Stanford’s philosophy site, I found a quick dissection of the fate vs. free will debate. It states:
a.Fatalism is the thesis that human acts occur by necessity and hence are unfree. Theological fatalism is the thesis that infallible foreknowledge of a human act makes the act necessary and hence unfree. If there is a being who knows infallibly the entire future, then no human act is free.
b.The theological fatalist argument just given creates a dilemma because many people have thought it important to maintain both (1) there is a deity who infallibly knows the entire future, and (2) human beings have free will in the strong sense usually called libertarian.
c.In order to accept 1, one needs to deny 2, and vise versa.
Oedipus encounters his fate “at a place where three roads meet.” I may be extrapolating a bit much here, but the paths could symbolize a crossroads of past, present, and future, or man, gods, and fate. (1303) Here he slays his father, later replacing him as king, and mating with his mother/wife.
First let us examine Oedipus’ opinion on fate vs. free will. Rex states, “But no man in the world can make the gods do more than the gods will.” (Scene 1: 63) From this sentence, I gained the sense that he believed in a preordained fate—yet, he tried desperately to escape his own. The tragedy is that Oedipus, in trying to escape his prophecy, actually fulfilled it. Maybe it was fate, a series of bad decisions, or the gods’ punishing Oedipus for trying to outwit divine will (by running away from Corinth).
Oedipus conversely believed that a man’s actions (free will) could change his fate. That is why Oedipus attempted to run away from his home-city of Corinth, consequently putting him on the path of Fate. Perhaps Oedipus’s tragic flaw is his Fate. What’s so painful about this tragedy is that so much of Oedipus’s fate seems out of his control. Yet his reckless actions, whether out of self defense, pride, or ignorance, lead to a horrible conclusion. In Shakespear’s plays the tragic hero often has a character flaw that iniates his downward spiral. However, Oedipus has the gods against him! So no matter how hard he tries to lead a good life, he will loose. But there is still that issue of free will. Did Oedipus have to hastily marry Jocasta? Did he have to kill the king out of self defense? Or is his fate his character?
After his dreadful realization and blinding, Oedipus speaks to his children about his fate. He says, “Apollo. He brought my sick, sick fate upon me. But the blinding hand was my own!” (éxodos: 112) Reading this line metamorphically, it says that the gods created his twisted fate but he himself formed it. Oedipus on his search for truth, shed light on his dark fate. Unable to cope with the pain of his reality, he blinded himself to ease his suffering. I agree with Choragos when he frankly tells Oedipus, “You were better dead than alive and blind.” (éxodos: 139)
Teiresias is a blind seer, gifted with second sight. The prophet reveals Oedipus’ future. But Teiresias warns the king by saying, “You weave you own doom.” (Scene 1: 162) How can the seer of fate itself, say that Oedipus is the crotchetier of his own destiny? I think Teiresias’ statement is a vital clue to this murder case of free will vs. fate. A prophet, a reader of destinies, is telling us that one can weave his own fate. So that means Oedipus’s free will is the culprit.
Jocasta shares Oedipus’ view of fate. When discussing Oedipus’ prophecy, she states, “Why should anyone in this world be afraid, since Fate rules us and nothing can be foreseen? A man should live only for the present day.” (Scene III: 65) However she differs from her husband because he believes that he can change his fate. Jocasta believes that Fate rules man and that nothing can be changed; only lived out. In this instance, Fate is the culprit.
So, here is what I can conclude after gathering and examining the evidence:
1) Man is flawed.
2) Therefore Teiresias (being the closest to the gods) has a better if not accurate understanding of Fate.
3) Oracles are charlatans!
a. The nature of oracles is that they are ambiguous, mysterious, and often misunderstood. I wonder if the oracle’s words were a “self-fulfilling prophecy”, where the prophecy “itself sets in motion events that conclude with the oracle’s own fulfillment.” (wiki) As the Stanford blurb stated, “…foreknowledge of a human act makes the act necessary and hence unfree.” If the prophecy was never told or heard, would it have come true?
4) While Teiresias tells Oedipus of the crimes he has already committed, he does prophesize one thing: that Oedipus will go “out of this land some day, with only night upon your [his] precious eyes.” (Scene 1: 204) If Oedipus had never heard this prophecy, would he have gouged his eyes out. He could have chosen a less painful end: death.
5) I am with Teiresias. We weave our own destiny. If our character is our fate, then we must learn to control what we can control and leave the rest to the gods.
6) I still don’t know who is guilty! Fate or free will? The mystery lives on another day…
Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (French, 1780-1867), Oedipus Solves the Riddle of the Sphinx, oil on canvas, 1808.
All this makes me wonder…am I in control or have the gods written my destiny?
Ignorance is bliss. Normally I would not agree with this saying. However, Oedipus would have benefited from not knowing his true nature. Also, my own ignorance of the play’s dramatic irony would have saved my endocrine system a lot of misery while reading this painfully ironic play. Despite my struggle for wanting to slap Oedipus in the face many times during the tragedy, this is my favorite piece of literature we have read all year.
Sophocles was a master of his art. It broke my heart to find out that only seven of his alleged 120 plays survived for my eyes to read. Sophocles weaved an elegant tapestry of truth, light, sight, and destiny. What touched me most about Oedipus Rex was the dynamic struggle of a man against his fate. However, Mr. Coon, today you said that “fate is character.” And how can one escape that?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is one word in Arabic that describes fate: maktub. Translated, maktub means, “It is written.” The word is commonly used in the contexts of chance and destiny. Applying this word to Oedipus’ story, I believe that both he and the gods wrote his fate. Now, I know you may be thinking, “Deepa…fate and free will are NOT compatible! They are like oil and water, dinosaurs and giant asteroids, Bush and any life form of reasonable intelligence!” How could Oedipus write his own fate, when presumably it was already written? Well, I’m not sure. However, sifting through this Theban play, I found that Sophocles incorporates both possibilities into this tale.
Here is my mystery to solve: Who is the culprit of Oedipus’s tragic destiny, free will or Fate?
Searching Stanford’s philosophy site, I found a quick dissection of the fate vs. free will debate. It states:
a.Fatalism is the thesis that human acts occur by necessity and hence are unfree. Theological fatalism is the thesis that infallible foreknowledge of a human act makes the act necessary and hence unfree. If there is a being who knows infallibly the entire future, then no human act is free.
b.The theological fatalist argument just given creates a dilemma because many people have thought it important to maintain both (1) there is a deity who infallibly knows the entire future, and (2) human beings have free will in the strong sense usually called libertarian.
c.In order to accept 1, one needs to deny 2, and vise versa.
Oedipus encounters his fate “at a place where three roads meet.” I may be extrapolating a bit much here, but the paths could symbolize a crossroads of past, present, and future, or man, gods, and fate. (1303) Here he slays his father, later replacing him as king, and mating with his mother/wife.
First let us examine Oedipus’ opinion on fate vs. free will. Rex states, “But no man in the world can make the gods do more than the gods will.” (Scene 1: 63) From this sentence, I gained the sense that he believed in a preordained fate—yet, he tried desperately to escape his own. The tragedy is that Oedipus, in trying to escape his prophecy, actually fulfilled it. Maybe it was fate, a series of bad decisions, or the gods’ punishing Oedipus for trying to outwit divine will (by running away from Corinth).
Oedipus conversely believed that a man’s actions (free will) could change his fate. That is why Oedipus attempted to run away from his home-city of Corinth, consequently putting him on the path of Fate. Perhaps Oedipus’s tragic flaw is his Fate. What’s so painful about this tragedy is that so much of Oedipus’s fate seems out of his control. Yet his reckless actions, whether out of self defense, pride, or ignorance, lead to a horrible conclusion. In Shakespear’s plays the tragic hero often has a character flaw that iniates his downward spiral. However, Oedipus has the gods against him! So no matter how hard he tries to lead a good life, he will loose. But there is still that issue of free will. Did Oedipus have to hastily marry Jocasta? Did he have to kill the king out of self defense? Or is his fate his character?
After his dreadful realization and blinding, Oedipus speaks to his children about his fate. He says, “Apollo. He brought my sick, sick fate upon me. But the blinding hand was my own!” (éxodos: 112) Reading this line metamorphically, it says that the gods created his twisted fate but he himself formed it. Oedipus on his search for truth, shed light on his dark fate. Unable to cope with the pain of his reality, he blinded himself to ease his suffering. I agree with Choragos when he frankly tells Oedipus, “You were better dead than alive and blind.” (éxodos: 139)
Teiresias is a blind seer, gifted with second sight. The prophet reveals Oedipus’ future. But Teiresias warns the king by saying, “You weave you own doom.” (Scene 1: 162) How can the seer of fate itself, say that Oedipus is the crotchetier of his own destiny? I think Teiresias’ statement is a vital clue to this murder case of free will vs. fate. A prophet, a reader of destinies, is telling us that one can weave his own fate. So that means Oedipus’s free will is the culprit.
Jocasta shares Oedipus’ view of fate. When discussing Oedipus’ prophecy, she states, “Why should anyone in this world be afraid, since Fate rules us and nothing can be foreseen? A man should live only for the present day.” (Scene III: 65) However she differs from her husband because he believes that he can change his fate. Jocasta believes that Fate rules man and that nothing can be changed; only lived out. In this instance, Fate is the culprit.
So, here is what I can conclude after gathering and examining the evidence:
1) Man is flawed.
2) Therefore Teiresias (being the closest to the gods) has a better if not accurate understanding of Fate.
3) Oracles are charlatans!
a. The nature of oracles is that they are ambiguous, mysterious, and often misunderstood. I wonder if the oracle’s words were a “self-fulfilling prophecy”, where the prophecy “itself sets in motion events that conclude with the oracle’s own fulfillment.” (wiki) As the Stanford blurb stated, “…foreknowledge of a human act makes the act necessary and hence unfree.” If the prophecy was never told or heard, would it have come true?
4) While Teiresias tells Oedipus of the crimes he has already committed, he does prophesize one thing: that Oedipus will go “out of this land some day, with only night upon your [his] precious eyes.” (Scene 1: 204) If Oedipus had never heard this prophecy, would he have gouged his eyes out. He could have chosen a less painful end: death.
5) I am with Teiresias. We weave our own destiny. If our character is our fate, then we must learn to control what we can control and leave the rest to the gods.
6) I still don’t know who is guilty! Fate or free will? The mystery lives on another day…
Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (French, 1780-1867), Oedipus Solves the Riddle of the Sphinx, oil on canvas, 1808.
All this makes me wonder…am I in control or have the gods written my destiny?
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Magic
Oedipus: Your infantile riddles! Your damned abracadabra!
SYLLABICATION: ab·ra·ca·dab·ra
NOUN: 1. A magical charm or incantation having the power to ward off disease or disaster. 2. Foolish or unintelligible talk.
ETYMOLOGY: Late Latin, magical formula.
WORD HISTORY: “Abracadabra,” says the magician, unaware that at one time the thing to do with the word was wear it, not say it. Abracadabra was a magic word, the letters of which were arranged in an inverted pyramid and worn as an amulet around the neck to protect the wearer against disease or trouble. One fewer letter appeared in each line of the pyramid, until only a remained to form the vertex of the triangle. As the letters disappeared, so supposedly did the disease or trouble. While magicians still use abracadabra in their performances, the word itself has acquired another sense, “foolish or unintelligible talk.”
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
It's Turtles All the Way Down!
The Turtle
by Pablo Neruda, as translated by Jodey Bateman
The turtle who
walked so long
and saw so much
with
his
ancient
eyes,
the turtle
who ate
olives
from the deepest
sea,
the turtle who swam
for seven centuries
and knew
seven
thousand
springtimes,
the turtle
hooded
against
the heat
and cold,
against
sunrays and waves,
the yellow
turtle
plated
with severe
amber
scales
and feet for catching prey,
the turtle
stopped
here
to sleep
and didn't know it.
So old
that he kept
getting harder,
he quit
loving the waves
and became rigid
like a clothing iron.
He closed
the eyes which
had defied
so much
sea, sky, time and earth,
and went to sleep
among the other
stones.
Ode to a Large Tuna in the Market
Among the market greens,
a bullet
from the ocean
depths,
a swimming
projectile,
I saw you,
dead.
All around you
were lettuces,
sea foam
of the earth,
carrots,
grapes,
but
of the ocean
truth,
of the unknown,
of the
unfathomable
shadow, the
depths
of the sea,
the abyss,
only you had survived,
a pitch-black, varnished
witness
to deepest night.
Only you, well-aimed
dark bullet
from the abyss,
mangled
at one tip,
but constantly
reborn,
at anchor in the current,
winged fins
windmilling
in the swift
flight
of
the
marine
shadow,
a mourning arrow,
dart of the sea,
olive, oily fish.
I saw you dead,
a deceased king
of my own ocean,
green
assault, silver
submarine fir,
seed
of seaquakes,
now
only dead remains,
yet
in all the market
yours
was the only
purposeful form
amid
the bewildering rout
of nature;
amid the fragile greens
you were
a solitary ship,
armed
among the vegetables
fin and prow black and oiled,
as if you were still
the vessel of the wind,
the one and only
pure
ocean
machine:
unflawed, navigating
the waters of death.
~Pablo Neruda
Monday, January 21, 2008
Okie Dokie Artichokie
Ode to the Artichoke by Pablo Neruda
The artichoke
of delicate heart
erect
in its battle-dress, builds
its minimal cupola;
keeps
stark
in its scallop of
scales.
Around it,
demoniac vegetables
bristle their thicknesses,
devise
tendrils and belfries,
the bulb's agitations;
while under the subsoil
the carrot
sleeps sound in its
rusty mustaches.
Runner and filaments
bleach in the vineyards,
whereon rise the vines.
The sedulous cabbage
arranges its petticoats;
oregano
sweetens a world;
and the artichoke
dulcetly there in a gardenplot,
armed for a skirmish,
goes proud
in its pomegranate
burnishes.
Till, on a day,
each by the other,
the artichoke moves
to its dream
of a market place
in the big willow
hoppers:
a battle formation.
Most warlike
of defilades-
with men
in the market stalls,
white shirts
in the soup-greens,
artichoke field marshals,
close-order conclaves,
commands, detonations,
and voices,
a crashing of crate staves.
And
Maria
come
down
with her hamper
to
make trial
of an artichoke:
she reflects, she examines,
she candles them up to the light like an egg,
never flinching;
she bargains,
she tumbles her prize
in a market bag
among shoes and a
cabbage head,
a bottle
of vinegar; is back
in her kitchen.
The artichoke drowns in a pot.
So you have it:
a vegetable, armed,
a profession
(call it an artichoke)
whose end
is millennial.
We taste of that
sweetness,
dismembering scale after scale.
We eat of a halcyon paste:
it is green at the artichoke heart.
Beneath the Crunchy Exoskeleton Lies the Heart of a Struggling Man: the True Story of a Man Battling his Id
Sigmund Freud the great Viennese psychologist changed modern psychology and thought with his theory of the id, ego, and super ego. First, a quick lesson:
1) Id: inner desire- the id is responsible for basic desires, infantile emotions, amoral and egocentric urges, and it is in constant struggle with the super-ego. The Id is divided into two portions: life and death. The life instincts are essential for a pleasurable life. While the death instincts are our unconscious desire to die, as to relieve us of earthly struggles. The id is expressed through art, anger, fiction, media, and mind-toying substances like alcohol and drugs.
2) ego: the I-the ego’s task is to mediate between the id and the super-ego. It forms a set of morals, a reality, and drives that satisfy the id and super ego. It must balance inner desires and the external world.
3) super-ego: the conscience- the super ego is the internalization of the father-figure and the regulations of society. It is in conflict with the often amoral, unrealistic desires of the id. The super ego maintains our sense of morality and makes sure that our behaviors is in-line with society.
In Franz Kafka’s novella Metamorphosis, the clear struggle between Gregor Samsa’s id, ego, and superego are displayed through the dream-like experience. Freud’s approach to understanding the three layers of the mind was through dream-analysis. Kafka, sets the stage for Freudian examination through his fantastical transformation of Gregor into an insect. Through this metamorphosis the inner layers of Gregor’s mind and the Samsa’s family dynamics are exposed.
Oedipal Complex?
The struggle for authority between Gregor and his father may be an extension of the Oedipal Complex that Freud believed in. Gregor’s father is in great debt and is out of work. Gregor is the bread winner and is forced to work in order to support his family. However with the transformation and deterioration of Gregor, his father reassumes his position as the authority head of the Samsa family. Father Samsa represents the super-ego, the father figure and the regulations of society. Just as Gregor’s office manager, the father embodies the pressure of society on an individual to make money, work, and survive for the sake of others. Gregor slaved away for years like a drone ant in order to help the ‘colony’ of his family. However, he was betrayed by his family (most importantly his father) when he overheard that a portion of Gregor’s earnings were not being used to pay off debt but were being saved for a rainy day! Gregor was filled with shame and grief after hearing this.
The fact that Gregor has a voice and conscience but cannot express himself in understandable terms, is a direct reflection of his id’s inner struggle. His voice is a murmured insect tongue; but his thoughts are clear. Gregor’s id is in constant struggle with his father and his super ego. Gregor must keep supplying the family with money at the expense of his happiness.
When reading this novella I felt strong feelings of compassion and admiration for Gregor. Despite the disgust, disrespect, and harm he received from his family members, Gregor was still considerate towards them. He spent hours trying to cover himself with a sheet in order to sheild his family from the site of him. Although he acted this way out of consideration, he ultimately saw himself in the same light that his parents and sister did. Especially after hearing his sister’s desire to get rid of Gregor, his self-image drastically deteriorated. Kafka said, ''The rotting apple in his back and the inflamed area around it, all covered with soft dust, already hardly troubled him. He thought of his family with tenderness and love. The decision that he must disappear was one that he held to even more strongly than his sister, if that were possible.” Soon, Gregor died. But throughout his struggle, pain, and alienation, Gregor remained loving and understanding of his family.
Finally, Gregor's id's balance between life and death instincts falters. Gregor sees death as his escape from his worldly situation. His unacknowledged desire to die, consumes him in his state of grief and shame. While his family continues living at the expense of their loyal son, brother, and worker.
Interesting observation: There are many aspects of this novella that are coupled in groups of three
There are three:
- family members of Gregor
- layers of the mind: id, ego, super-ego
- metamorphosis typically has three stages (caterpillar)
- story is in three parts
- the three Samsas write three letters
- doors to Gregor’s room
- lodgers
I apologize for the disjointedness of this blog entry. I really loved the story; however, writing about it was hard for me because there was so much to think about. I had trouble organizing my thoughts this time. I’ll make sure the next one is more logical and coherent.
(836)
1) Id: inner desire- the id is responsible for basic desires, infantile emotions, amoral and egocentric urges, and it is in constant struggle with the super-ego. The Id is divided into two portions: life and death. The life instincts are essential for a pleasurable life. While the death instincts are our unconscious desire to die, as to relieve us of earthly struggles. The id is expressed through art, anger, fiction, media, and mind-toying substances like alcohol and drugs.
2) ego: the I-the ego’s task is to mediate between the id and the super-ego. It forms a set of morals, a reality, and drives that satisfy the id and super ego. It must balance inner desires and the external world.
3) super-ego: the conscience- the super ego is the internalization of the father-figure and the regulations of society. It is in conflict with the often amoral, unrealistic desires of the id. The super ego maintains our sense of morality and makes sure that our behaviors is in-line with society.
In Franz Kafka’s novella Metamorphosis, the clear struggle between Gregor Samsa’s id, ego, and superego are displayed through the dream-like experience. Freud’s approach to understanding the three layers of the mind was through dream-analysis. Kafka, sets the stage for Freudian examination through his fantastical transformation of Gregor into an insect. Through this metamorphosis the inner layers of Gregor’s mind and the Samsa’s family dynamics are exposed.
Oedipal Complex?
The struggle for authority between Gregor and his father may be an extension of the Oedipal Complex that Freud believed in. Gregor’s father is in great debt and is out of work. Gregor is the bread winner and is forced to work in order to support his family. However with the transformation and deterioration of Gregor, his father reassumes his position as the authority head of the Samsa family. Father Samsa represents the super-ego, the father figure and the regulations of society. Just as Gregor’s office manager, the father embodies the pressure of society on an individual to make money, work, and survive for the sake of others. Gregor slaved away for years like a drone ant in order to help the ‘colony’ of his family. However, he was betrayed by his family (most importantly his father) when he overheard that a portion of Gregor’s earnings were not being used to pay off debt but were being saved for a rainy day! Gregor was filled with shame and grief after hearing this.
The fact that Gregor has a voice and conscience but cannot express himself in understandable terms, is a direct reflection of his id’s inner struggle. His voice is a murmured insect tongue; but his thoughts are clear. Gregor’s id is in constant struggle with his father and his super ego. Gregor must keep supplying the family with money at the expense of his happiness.
When reading this novella I felt strong feelings of compassion and admiration for Gregor. Despite the disgust, disrespect, and harm he received from his family members, Gregor was still considerate towards them. He spent hours trying to cover himself with a sheet in order to sheild his family from the site of him. Although he acted this way out of consideration, he ultimately saw himself in the same light that his parents and sister did. Especially after hearing his sister’s desire to get rid of Gregor, his self-image drastically deteriorated. Kafka said, ''The rotting apple in his back and the inflamed area around it, all covered with soft dust, already hardly troubled him. He thought of his family with tenderness and love. The decision that he must disappear was one that he held to even more strongly than his sister, if that were possible.” Soon, Gregor died. But throughout his struggle, pain, and alienation, Gregor remained loving and understanding of his family.
Finally, Gregor's id's balance between life and death instincts falters. Gregor sees death as his escape from his worldly situation. His unacknowledged desire to die, consumes him in his state of grief and shame. While his family continues living at the expense of their loyal son, brother, and worker.
Interesting observation: There are many aspects of this novella that are coupled in groups of three
There are three:
- family members of Gregor
- layers of the mind: id, ego, super-ego
- metamorphosis typically has three stages (caterpillar)
- story is in three parts
- the three Samsas write three letters
- doors to Gregor’s room
- lodgers
I apologize for the disjointedness of this blog entry. I really loved the story; however, writing about it was hard for me because there was so much to think about. I had trouble organizing my thoughts this time. I’ll make sure the next one is more logical and coherent.
(836)
Saturday, January 19, 2008
We All Have an Inner Insect
First of all, I would like to say that everyone’s preconceived notions of insects should be reexamined. They are not something to be squished, shooed, or screamed at. These creatures are invaluable to the environment. They’re also ancient and wonderfully adapted! Take the praying mantis, which dates back to the time of the cockroach and dinosaurs, comes in 2,300 varieties, camouflages as a stick, leaf, or even a flower, and is a miniature assassin. Or the humble ant, who colonizes every place on our planet (except for the poles) and is the only creature to domesticate animals other than humans! Insects can be gross, annoying, scary, or invasive. But then again, so can people. Simply because there are few bad apples with worms in them, does not mean that every insect is horrible, grotesque, or otherwise not worthy of living. Let’s give everyone a chance.
... to be continued
Orchid Mantis
Leaf Mantis:
... to be continued
Orchid Mantis
Leaf Mantis:
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The Death of Ivan Ilyich
Today we spoke about what makes great literature. I believe that an everlasting piece of writing must capture some aspect of human nature. Although I did not enjoy reading this novella, I appreciate Tolstoy’s language and message. What Tolstoy captured in The Death of Ivan Ilyich is the constant struggle of the individual vs. society.
As civilization has advanced, the importance of individualism has risen at the expense of kinship. The industrialized world’s emphasis on individual glory forces many to replace compassion, sympathy, and community with self-interest and ruthless individualism. I am not preaching that there is anything wrong with that, but I believe we have not yet found the golden mean. Traditional societies value kinship above the individual and this attitude fosters a group-effort. However, these societies focus on survival. Our society, well beyond a struggle for survival, searches for monetary and material indulgences. In times of strife, communities come together to support one another and provide for each other. However for the most part, the individual is left to fend for herself. The abrasiveness of society erodes many natural inclinations a person may have towards community and kinship. I believe Tolstoy spoke of this deteriorating effect of society on the person.
Ivan Iliych was a product of society. His major decisions in life were done in order to fit society’s standards. His goal was to improve his social standing. However his energy, time, and effort put into this quest were at best quixotic. The decor of his home, which was intended to look high-class, ended up looking like the homes of those who want to appear high-class but indeed are not. Also, his marriage was a result of how socially “right” their pairing was. This resulted in an unhappy, uncaring, and unloving marriage. He spent his years partying with the elite in order to boost himself in society; however what he gained was a false image of his social standing and false, “so-called” friends to boot.
Just as many monks, devotees, and religiously-inclined individuals do, Iliych found himself through isolation. Because of his illness, he was shut away from society and forced to confront himself—something he had avoided by covering himself with a façade. In this time Ivan learns the importance of the spiritual, inner self as opposed to the physical, materialistic self. His isolation from society allowed him to question his lifestyle and his beliefs. This scene in the novella was a crucial turning point. Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Unfortunately for most his life, Ivan did not examine his life. And when he finally realized his wrong-doings and misdirection, it was far too late. Ivan conquered his fear of death and even experienced joy. Taking of the mask society concealed him with, Ivan is relieved of a heavy weight upon his shoulders, and dies a peaceful soul.
Lastly, to contrast with the upper echelon of Russian society, Tolstoy uses the character of Gerasim as a foil. Gerasim is everything society does not offer Ivan. Gerasim, a humble peasant boy, represents compassion, kinship, love, understanding, and acknowledgement. He is the only one who faces the prospect of death as an inevitability and not as something taboo. He is a breath of fresh air in a society that is consumed by falseness and self-interest. Finally, a character who has compassion and empathy relieves Ivan of his daily suffering and helps Iliych understand how happiness and love should consume one’s life not material pleasures.
Count Tolstoy grew up in the upper class of Russian society but spend his last days devoted to Early Christian theology and a simpler way of life. Ivan makes this realization too late in his life; however, he redeems himself through this epiphany.
As civilization has advanced, the importance of individualism has risen at the expense of kinship. The industrialized world’s emphasis on individual glory forces many to replace compassion, sympathy, and community with self-interest and ruthless individualism. I am not preaching that there is anything wrong with that, but I believe we have not yet found the golden mean. Traditional societies value kinship above the individual and this attitude fosters a group-effort. However, these societies focus on survival. Our society, well beyond a struggle for survival, searches for monetary and material indulgences. In times of strife, communities come together to support one another and provide for each other. However for the most part, the individual is left to fend for herself. The abrasiveness of society erodes many natural inclinations a person may have towards community and kinship. I believe Tolstoy spoke of this deteriorating effect of society on the person.
Ivan Iliych was a product of society. His major decisions in life were done in order to fit society’s standards. His goal was to improve his social standing. However his energy, time, and effort put into this quest were at best quixotic. The decor of his home, which was intended to look high-class, ended up looking like the homes of those who want to appear high-class but indeed are not. Also, his marriage was a result of how socially “right” their pairing was. This resulted in an unhappy, uncaring, and unloving marriage. He spent his years partying with the elite in order to boost himself in society; however what he gained was a false image of his social standing and false, “so-called” friends to boot.
Just as many monks, devotees, and religiously-inclined individuals do, Iliych found himself through isolation. Because of his illness, he was shut away from society and forced to confront himself—something he had avoided by covering himself with a façade. In this time Ivan learns the importance of the spiritual, inner self as opposed to the physical, materialistic self. His isolation from society allowed him to question his lifestyle and his beliefs. This scene in the novella was a crucial turning point. Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Unfortunately for most his life, Ivan did not examine his life. And when he finally realized his wrong-doings and misdirection, it was far too late. Ivan conquered his fear of death and even experienced joy. Taking of the mask society concealed him with, Ivan is relieved of a heavy weight upon his shoulders, and dies a peaceful soul.
Lastly, to contrast with the upper echelon of Russian society, Tolstoy uses the character of Gerasim as a foil. Gerasim is everything society does not offer Ivan. Gerasim, a humble peasant boy, represents compassion, kinship, love, understanding, and acknowledgement. He is the only one who faces the prospect of death as an inevitability and not as something taboo. He is a breath of fresh air in a society that is consumed by falseness and self-interest. Finally, a character who has compassion and empathy relieves Ivan of his daily suffering and helps Iliych understand how happiness and love should consume one’s life not material pleasures.
Count Tolstoy grew up in the upper class of Russian society but spend his last days devoted to Early Christian theology and a simpler way of life. Ivan makes this realization too late in his life; however, he redeems himself through this epiphany.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Seeds of Change-Common App Essay
An Indian proverb states, “All of the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today.” I keep this mantra in my mind when I am toiling in the soil of my garden. For two years now, every Friday I can be found with dusty pants, muddy shoes, and a shovel in hand. After earning a green thumb from a desert landscaping course, I have been working incessantly with a team of three to create a desert, xeriscape garden that is both educational and aesthetically pleasing. We have transformed the barren, dilapidated landscape of our school’s science garden into a lively, thriving Eden. Through the course of this project, my understanding of the natural world and of myself has been influenced by plants and by the creation of our garden.
Gardening has made me more aware of the world in which I live. I see that plants are incredible life forms: their ingenious design and aesthetic quality make them a wonder of nature. They are the keystone for life on earth—cooperating with all species, fertilizing the land, and supplying our planet with the breath of life. One morning, after a session of planting, I witnessed a violet hummingbird sipping the sweet nectar of a new plant. The hummingbird’s interaction with the garden was a visible sign that all organisms are interconnected. I saw then that my actions—mankind’s actions—affect the ecosystem and ultimately the biosphere. Encounters like this have given me a deeper respect for the delicate balance of life. To change the world, all one needs to do is plant a seed with the hope of growth.
What’s more, the garden is the perfect fusion for my passions of biology and art. It is both an educational area and a beautiful accent to our campus. My scientific side loves the method behind creating an efficient, healthy garden; while my artistic side sees gardening as an art that uses flowers and plants as paint, and the soil and sky as canvas. The painting of our garden changes every day. There is always a new leaf to be found, a new cactus to add, and a new problem to solve. It is a constantly evolving process; in essence, the garden is always growing. I have learned that a garden requires lots of water—most of it in the form of perspiration. Hours of physical labor have gone into this creation. But after a hard day of planting, I can pat my hands dry of the dirt and leaves, and feel proud that I am creating something that will last longer than I will.
As the garden has grown, so have I. Our group initially had failures, but we have learned from our mistakes and persevered. Vita Sackville-West, English poet, novelist, and fellow gardener said, “The most noteworthy thing about gardeners is that they are always optimistic, always enterprising, and never satisfied.” My patience, diligence, and hope have been tested by the garden. But upon the sight of a vibrant, new leaf all doubt is lost. I realize that I am planting the seeds for a better garden of the future—a metaphor I extend to all aspects of my life.
Through this experience I have learned to cultivate the garden within. I am more understanding of life’s intricacies and I am more confident in my ability to change the world, even if it is one seed at a time. The perfume of a flower coupled with the fresh scent of the wet earth is an indescribable feeling that I live for. It is said that many things grow in the garden that were never sowed there by human hands. Weeds and insects top that list; however, seeds of thought and awareness engendered in the garden can spread like dandelion seeds in a gust of wind. The garden is a symbol of cooperation between man, animals, and plants. For me, gardening is a labor of love whose real fruits are not tangible.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Frankenfood to Save Thousands in Africa
Here is my optional essay for Tufts:
Prompt:
The human narrative is replete with memorable characters like America’s Johnny Appleseed, ancient Greece’s Perseus or the Fox Spirits of East Asia. Imagine one of humanity’s storied figures is alive and working in the world today. Why does Eric the Red have a desk job? Would Shiva be a general or a diplomat? Is Quetzalcoatl trapped in a zoo? In short, connect your chosen figure to the contemporary world and imagine the life he/she/it might lead.
Frankenfood to Save Thousands in Africa
Mon Oct 5, 10:23 PM ET
Harare, Zimbabwe - World renowned researcher Dr. Victor Frankenstein has finally unveiled his latest creation: a consortium of genetically modified foods that will end malnutrition. The world’s leading GM food developer DNA (Designing New Agriculture) has completed its ten-year mission to create “Frankenfood” which, when eaten in three servings, will provide a full day’s worth of nutrition. The seeds of these organisms will grow with minimal water usage and produce bountiful crop yields, resulting in cheaper production and more food for impoverished nations.
Just fifteen years ago Dr. Frankenstein was shunned by the scientific community and by religious activists after his failed attempt to “play God”. However, today he is esteemed as a savior. He is also the number one genetic engineer. Using his esoteric knowledge, understanding of life and genomics, and a spark of creativity he has changed the world--an achievement that was never expected after Project Adam’s disastrous end. Dr. Frankenstein is a true success story. Using his passion for positive ends, he will save millions in the future.
Previously, Dr. Frankenstein was on an ethically-debatable search for what he called “the elixir of life”. In Project Adam he attempted to create life from inanimate matter. He succeeded. The result was a human prototype, which Frankenstein abandoned. The creature roamed without a parent, without a home, and without food, going to extremes to find these three things. It stole food, broke into houses, and frightened families--all because it wanted a shelter, nutrition, and love. Frankenstein’s creation once said to him, “I am malicious because I am miserable. ... If any being felt emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them a hundred and a hundred fold.” After observing the creature, Frankenstein realized what he had to do. He said, “I shall live to improve myself, to take care of my child and to render myself worthy to join him.” While Frankenstein could not find parents or homes for every abandoned child, he could feed them.
This was the turning point in Victor Frankenstein’s life. The doctor said, “Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose--a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye.” Nourishing children with wholesome food was his new goal. In the memory of his creature, he founded DNA and started making history.
Prompt:
The human narrative is replete with memorable characters like America’s Johnny Appleseed, ancient Greece’s Perseus or the Fox Spirits of East Asia. Imagine one of humanity’s storied figures is alive and working in the world today. Why does Eric the Red have a desk job? Would Shiva be a general or a diplomat? Is Quetzalcoatl trapped in a zoo? In short, connect your chosen figure to the contemporary world and imagine the life he/she/it might lead.
Frankenfood to Save Thousands in Africa
Mon Oct 5, 10:23 PM ET
Harare, Zimbabwe - World renowned researcher Dr. Victor Frankenstein has finally unveiled his latest creation: a consortium of genetically modified foods that will end malnutrition. The world’s leading GM food developer DNA (Designing New Agriculture) has completed its ten-year mission to create “Frankenfood” which, when eaten in three servings, will provide a full day’s worth of nutrition. The seeds of these organisms will grow with minimal water usage and produce bountiful crop yields, resulting in cheaper production and more food for impoverished nations.
Just fifteen years ago Dr. Frankenstein was shunned by the scientific community and by religious activists after his failed attempt to “play God”. However, today he is esteemed as a savior. He is also the number one genetic engineer. Using his esoteric knowledge, understanding of life and genomics, and a spark of creativity he has changed the world--an achievement that was never expected after Project Adam’s disastrous end. Dr. Frankenstein is a true success story. Using his passion for positive ends, he will save millions in the future.
Previously, Dr. Frankenstein was on an ethically-debatable search for what he called “the elixir of life”. In Project Adam he attempted to create life from inanimate matter. He succeeded. The result was a human prototype, which Frankenstein abandoned. The creature roamed without a parent, without a home, and without food, going to extremes to find these three things. It stole food, broke into houses, and frightened families--all because it wanted a shelter, nutrition, and love. Frankenstein’s creation once said to him, “I am malicious because I am miserable. ... If any being felt emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them a hundred and a hundred fold.” After observing the creature, Frankenstein realized what he had to do. He said, “I shall live to improve myself, to take care of my child and to render myself worthy to join him.” While Frankenstein could not find parents or homes for every abandoned child, he could feed them.
This was the turning point in Victor Frankenstein’s life. The doctor said, “Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose--a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye.” Nourishing children with wholesome food was his new goal. In the memory of his creature, he founded DNA and started making history.
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