Monday, December 3, 2007

Youth has no age as long as the heart is kept unwrinkled.

Love in the Time of Cholera begins with a man who commits suicide because he would rather die than contract the most horrific disease, not cholera but old age. It is fitting that Marquez ends the book with a section delving deeply into the impact of love for the aging especially as readers witness an elderly couple, completely isolated from the world, finally able to freely love each other.

There is a cruel stereotype that older people simply cannot have romantic lives and certainly do not and/or should not date and marry. Although some of us may harbor the same feelings, the desire to throw up at the sight of an elderly couple kissing, we probably do not care enough and certainly are not offended enough to change the circumstances. Florentino may have spent all those years keeping up his appearance and attempting to look youthful as he waited for Fermina, but he can never escape the prejudices people have against elderly lovers. Three characters, America, Ofelia, and Urbino, are notable for their views on love and old age.

Florentino’s relationship with America is extremely odd and most likely a topic of its own. The complexities of America’s feelings are revealed when Florentino tells her he will marry and she is caught off guard, almost panicking. Initially, she probably is shocked because she cannot believe that Florentino would marry someone if he already has her. She is further baffled because she finds it absurd that a man of Florentino’s age would consider love a possibility and marriage a goal. In the end, when she commits suicide, America still cannot believe that a man would pick an old woman who has lost her beauty on the outside instead of a youthful woman like herself (295).

Ofelia Daza can only be considered a dramatic and miserable woman as she shouts, “Love is ridiculous at our age, but at theirs it is revolting.” She is the epitome of a person who cannot accept the fact that love transcends age. She shields her prejudice by accusing Florentino of being a pervert who would only mar the family’s dwindling pride and status. At last, she is banned from the house, rightfully so, for her rude and narrow attitude (323).

Urbino Daza is much more kindhearted than his sister since he almost nurtures the Fermina-Florentino relationship, asking Florentino to continue offering his good companionship to his widowed mother. However, Urbino’s carefree attitude does not excuse his belief that old people are burdening humanity and slowing down progress and at a certain age, old people should be isolated together to help each other in their last years. When Urbino discovers that Florentino would be accompanying Fermina on the trip, he is utterly confused, but Marquez does not explain the origins of his perplexity. Is he another non-believer of love at any age? No, Urbino is different because he would never stop his mother’s friendship. Happiness should override any unwritten social code (312, 326).

Many may believe, myself included when I first finished the novel, that Florentino never got his true dream until he was quite close to death. The book chronicles a pitiful story of a man wasting his entire life chasing after women he did not want. Looking at the ending as a pathetic copout is the true tragedy. Like approaching old age with an open mind, a reader should look at the ending with optimism. The journey Florentino took to be with Fermina is the meaning of his life and that is all that matters (590).

Monday, November 19, 2007

At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.

The most recent section of Love in the Time of Cholera, the third section, is oddly reminiscent of the first section in the way that the leading men find Fermina and how Fermina reacts to the men.

Lorenzo Daza encounters Dr. Juvenal Urbino in much the same way as he encounters Florentina Ariza, but of course with a much different outcome. When Florentino delivers a telegram to Lorenzo, Lorenzo ignores Florentino and even makes the messenger wait. Lorenzo, grumpy and rude, shakes Florentino’s hand but does not offer a tip. Lorenzo warmly welcomes Dr. Urbino, offers a large tip, and invites him in for coffee and anisette. These two encounters reveal much about Lorenzo Daza. It is obvious that he is a controlling man, one who is able to whisk away his daughter so that she would forget her forbidden lover. However his biased receptions of these two men show that he also greedy. He does not care about how Fermina would receive these men or whether they can offer her the love and support she deserves (although his pick of men eventually is the man Fermina marries). Instead, he looks for a wealthy man with property, class, status, and power. Lorenzo is greedy but is he trying to find the best man for Fermina or for himself?

From reading only the first section of the novel, I could tell this book would be one filled with opposites; novels about love seem to always feature those almost eerily convenient and ironic opposites, such as in Pride and Prejudice when Austen juxtaposes good and bad marriages. Lorenzo adamantly forbids Fermina’s love affair with Florentino, even though Fermina and Florentino desire each other. Now that Lorenzo wants Fermina to pursue a man, Urbino, she refuses and tries to avoid the Doctor; she even shuts a window Doctor Urbino’s face. It is also interesting to point out that Fermina is sent on a trip to forget about her lover and then Hildebranda also is sent away by her parents on a journey to forget her lover. I doubt that the journeys accomplish the purpose of the trip or anything else. Since Fermina’s exile did not make her forget about Florentino and actually only intensified her feelings, I foresee that Hildebranda will return home with the same feelings of unrequited love.

Although I could probably continue on with this discussion, I would like to touch on Marquez’s representation of love as a disease, comparable to cholera. Florentino seems to be infected by a deadly virus, which turns out to be a passion for Fermina Daza. His symptoms, his disillusionment, his sentimentalism, and his delirium, are a direct effect of his lovesickness. At one point in the novel, Florentino becomes so ill worrying about when Fermina will return his declaration of love and why she has not responded earlier, that a homeopathic practitioner called in mistakenly diagnoses Florentino with cholera. He vomits, faints, and becomes disoriented, all symptoms of cholera. He seemed to be a dying man until Transito, the doctor, and the reader realizes the “symptoms of love were the same as those of cholera.” The impact of unrequited love is emphasized when Florentino, finally having received a letter from Fermina, returns to a strength and confidence that he “had never known before” and because of this new attitude he lands a better job and has time to hang out and have a beer with the sailors (61, 74).

Lovesickness, not cholera, is the true plague of this story. (585)

Thursday, November 1, 2007

Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.

There is no doubt that Jason is a despicable, self-pitying, and bitter man. Yet he still remains Mrs. Compson’s favorite child. My confusion lies within this contradiction.

Jason has always been the family trouble maker. As a child, he ripped up Benji’s dolls and then denied his hurtful actions. It is unclear whether Jason never enjoyed playing with his siblings and therefore displayed a hostile disposition or his mean-spirited personality drove away his siblings. Regardless, his greedy personality as a child definitely foreshadows his horrible relationship with his family, except his mother.

Jason adamantly believes that he has been wronged, in every way, and therefore proceeds to torment everyone. He has no concerns about how his actions affect his family members because he thinks he is taking rightful vengeance. For Jason, it is always how his parents and siblings’ actions have negatively affected him. He is resentful of Caddy for costing him the job at Herbert’s bank. In reality, Jason would never have gotten the job offer in the first place if Caddy had not been engaged to Herbert. Continually stealing from Miss Quentin, Jason acquires every cent Caddy sends her daughter. He even resorts to trickery in order to get more money and then spends it on the cotton market. What is annoying about Jason is that he constantly complains about how he must support the entire family, but he does not put Caddy’s money to good use. Jason argues with his mother about what to do with Miss Quentin, a wild child often missing from school. His uncontrollable cruelty emerges when he grabs Quentin and threatens to beat her. Finally, Jason finds pleasure in watching others suffer, especially if he is the perpetrator. Even though he knows Luster would love to go to the show and he has two tickets, Jason burns the tickets without any emotion.

Returning to the question I stated earlier, Mrs. Compson probably finds herself in Jason. The similarities between mother and son bring them together. Both characters are self-absorbed; they selfishly wallow in their insecurities and act as victims. Mrs. Compson nearly drowns in self-pity, complaining that she is ill and cannot rest because of Benji’s crying. She wails about being burdened with horrible children, disgracing the Bascomb name. At times, I wonder: does she want to be miserable all the time? Is she not setting herself up for disappointment and despair? The same question can be applied to Jason. He is completely unhappy working at a boring farm-supply store. Yet, he refuses to find a new job. He steals from his family and lies to his mother about it. Instead of looking for a new job or acting as a positive mentor for Miss Quentin, Jason chooses to have others pity him for taking on the burden and the remaining baggage his father and siblings have left him. He pities himself and somehow feels that it will justify the horrors of his family: a brother who commits suicide, a divorced sister with an illegitimate child, an alcoholic dead father, an idiotic brother, and a crazy mother who has no one left but him. Mrs. Compson and Jason both lack motivation and because they have not lead successful lives, they resort to self-pity to gain self-worth. In the end, I have no sympathy for either character because I am too annoyed and disgusted with their lack of ambition. (565)

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Time Alone, oh Time Will Tell

The theme of time is obvious in the Quentin section. However, Faulkner’s application of time is very relevant so far in the book, mainly as a way of telling the story. (I think I can safely presume that the remaining two sections will also have some different twist of time.) Time is relative and everybody looks at it differently. Each section’s narrator is characterized by the treatment of time: stylistically or thematically.

The Benji section reminded me of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time because both pieces of writing try to emulate and almost record the actual thoughts and feelings of the narrator, without attempting to “improve” or “enhance.” Benji has no understanding of time; he has trouble distinguishing past from present. Faulkner’s stream of conscious technique is very effective because Benji’s brain does work like that. Little things in the present, such as how the golfers keep saying “caddie,” affect Benji and he jumps to the past. Sadly, one could say that time has not really affected Benji like the rest of his family. Yes, he has suffered the loss of Caddy over time, amongst other calamities, but Benji still lives at home as a child because he can’t experience the things we often associate with time: growing up, getting a job, marrying, and having children. The true tragedy is how Benji is disconnected from the concept of time, but he is still haunted by memories of the past.

Appropriately, the Quentin section, with an imminent suicide, treats time more thematically rather than stylistically. Like Benji, time haunts Quentin. He is trapped by his obsession with time. When I first wake up, I glance at my alarm clock. However, I do not look at the shadows on my floor to tell time like Quentin does. He breaks his watch, a present from his father, asks if it can be fixed, and then does not want it to be fixed. Quentin’s obsession with time points out two things: One, because of his constant awareness of time—everywhere is “full of ticking”—Quentin wants to escape it and therefore commits suicide. Symbolically, he breaks his watch to stop time. He does not get it fixed because he will not “need a watch” anymore (83, 84). Two, there is only so much time before Quentin’s life ends. The clock is ticking. Overall, Quentin may be more bogged down, feeling trapped, in past memories than Benji does only because he does resort to drastic measures. Unlike Benji, Quentin understands the motivations and effects of specific actions. To exacerbate the problem, Quentin’s father believes that time will tell. Certainly, time will tell.

*On a completely separate note, when I first started this book, I was frustrated with the Benji section. Now that we have started the Quentin section with its long slew of unpunctuated paragraphs, interrupted sentences, and use of italics, the Benji section seemed much easier to understand. But I guess I will have to wait until the next section to see what I really think of Quentin’s. (508)

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Salt, Sweat, Sugar on the Asphalt

Just by reading the first paragraph of Shiloh a reader can sense that Norma Jean is no ordinary woman. Throughout the short story, Norma Jean breaks the rules of the conventional role of women in a family situation and in society. She has completely traded roles with her husband, but not just because she is interested in a predominately male activity, body-building. Norma Jean exhibits a commitment to her job and an interest in acquiring talents and knowledge in a personal quest to improve herself. Norma Jean is the spouse in the family who goes to work early, leaving a cold spot in the bed next to Leroy and her dirty cereal bowl on the table (54). She is the breadwinner of the family when she stands on her feet all day behind a cosmetics counter at the Rexall drugstore, while Leroy lounges on the couch at home (9). She has learned to play the organ and is now attending night school, taking a course on composition at the local community college (86). Norma Jean spends her evenings outlining paragraphs in preparation for night school, while Leroy plays around with his set of miniature Lincoln Logs (93). Finally, when the Moffitt’s take a trip to Shiloh at the request of Mabel, we see Norman Jean take the driver’s seat, both literally and metaphorically. Typically, the man drives the car and the woman sits in the back tending to the children; however, Norma Jean is no normal woman (127). Females are usually portrayed as wives who want their husbands to spend less time at work and away from home and more time with the family. Yet, Norma Jean has “never complained about his traveling” (9). Ironically, Norma Jean, who sheds her female behaviors, was named after Marilyn Monroe, the iconic symbol of sensual femininity.

On the other hand, Leroy Moffitt has lost many of the characteristics commonly associated with the male. Firstly, Leroy is no longer the career-man. Leroy sits at home during the day, and his rig “sits in the back backyard like a gigantic bird that has flown home to roost” (5). Instead of looking for a new job, Leroy spends his time making things from craft kits: miniature log cabins from popsicle sticks, string art and a macramé owl kit (6). Although these activities are not directly related to the usual house chores women are responsible for, they do have a domestic feel to them. The craft kits require patience, creativity, and a knack for the arts, all characteristics commonly linked to females—soft, gentle, and inactive. At one point, Norma Jean’s mother Mabel points to Leroy’s unsuccessful needle-point and cries “that’s what a woman would do” (33). While Leroy is comfortable with his almost domestic role, Mabel and Norma Jean are not. Norma Jean says to Leroy, “you have to find a job first” (37). Leroy is no longer the “King” of the house (116).

Only when the Moffitts are in their former, traditional roles do they get along as a happy, married couple—when Norma Jean is the typical domestic female and Leroy is the hard-working, on the road career man. Even Bobbie Ann Mason points out this “connection between him (Leroy) and Norma Jean,” but only when Norma Jean is explaining to Leroy the stages of complexion care and Leroy is thinking about petroleum products. Before Leroy’s injury and his return home, Norma Jean would cook all of Leroy’s favorite foods including picnic ham, chocolate pie, and fried chicken. The couple used to watch television and play cards after work (53). I am not sure why Norma Jean and Leroy cannot communicate once they switch roles. It could be that the Moffitts are naturally evolving into their rightful forms, yet they are both uncomfortable with their spouse’s changes. To agitate the problem, each refuses to budge. Maybe if one of them had stayed the same, the couple would have been able to adapt and continue their marriage.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Arrange whatever pieces come your way.

I picked Mrs. Dalloway for my October novel because I could not believe how an author could write three hundred pages on the events in a single day: either Clarissa is a very exciting woman with a fruitful life or the author has the ability to shape any story to engage a reader. However, from what I have read, it is a combination of both intriguing characters and insightful writing.

Two weekends ago, I read five pages into Mrs. Dalloway and was utterly confused by Virginia Woolf’s punctuation of oddly placed dashes, recurring semicolons, and a seemingly endless stream of commas. I remember very clearly that we were taught to use exclamation marks rarely, yet Woolf often uses five exclamation points on a page. Why? And, where was the main subject and verb? The punctuation was overwhelming. (It reminded me a lot of when I read Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld and there were dashes everywhere and I couldn’t stand it.) I put down the book and did some other homework.

Last weekend, I managed to barrel through the first few pages and am now on page ninety-seven. My perplexity with Woolf’s distinct style is still as strong as it was two weekends ago. Her selection and arrangement of words is quite bizarre because the ideas seem out of order. Instead of “how still the fresh, calm air was in the early morning; it was like the flap of a wave or the kiss of a wave,” she writes “how fresh, how calm, stiller than this of course, the air was in the early morning; like the flap of a wave; the kiss of a wave” (1). Woolf’s ordering of words is reflective of a real person’s thoughts. Both Woolf’s writing and a person’s thoughts sometime do not make any sense until the thoughts are complete; then, aha! I always thought of writing as a better form of thinking aloud because a writer must take the time to reformat the thoughts into a cohesive idea. I am used to polished and chronologically sequenced writing. Therefore, Woolf’s use of stream of consciousness is quite a shock because it does require a little more patience. That is not to say that Woolf’s writing is unsophisticated and unorganized. Rather, her writing naturally flows like thoughts and words simultaneously form for individuals. She writes it as it is, not as it should be.

Woolf does a particularly good job in capturing the essence of characters, and she does this with simple, clear-cut language. Most of her sentences are straight-forward. Not a word could be stripped without destroying the meaning of the sentence. Yet, Woolf has a particular quirk in which she compares an event, characteristic, or feeling to many different ideas. There is a long chain of descriptive words following one noun. For example, Clarissa feels “in the midst of traffic…a particular hush, or solemnity; an indescribable pause; a suspense” right before the Big Ben strikes (5). Each new description gives readers a slightly different perspective and the layers create a richer meaning. It is almost as if Woolf understands that people relate differently to the same things. Her solution is to give many different descriptions in the hopes that a reader will relate to at least one description. Later on in the novel, Woolf uses this technique again to create the same effect. She describes Miss Killman as someone who makes “you feel her superiority, your inferiority; how poor she was; how rich you were; how she lived in a slum without a cushion…” (16). This varied repetition of interesting descriptive phrases not only facilitates character development but also keeps the reader on his/her toes.

I have always prided myself on being able to predict the ending of movies and books and every plot twist along the way. On an eighth grade trip, I predicted that the protoganist in Big Fish would turn into a goldfish and nobody believed me; I was right. One notable exception is Harry Potter. I can never guess what is coming up next with J.K. Rowling’s writing. With Mrs. Dalloway, I am completely unsure about what the story is about. I am definitely following what is going on, but I don’t find a connection between the events. I find this extremely odd since I am already one third of the way through the book. Hopefully, there will be some explanation for the relationship between Clarissa and Richard, and Clarissa and Elizabeth. I also look forward to discovering the parallel between Clarissa and Septimus.

I understand that Mrs. Dalloway was a key element to Michael Cunningham’s novel, The Hours, and the movie based off of Cunninghma’s novel. Maybe I’ll rent it…

P.S. Since I mentioned Harry Potter and this blog is about Virginia Woolf, I googled both names and found “Dumbledore's Death in the Style of Virginia Woolf,” which is quite interesting. (813)

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Showing Ordinary Life as Being Worth Writing About

John Updike has the rare ability to “show ordinary life as being worth writing about.” In his widely acclaimed short story “A & P,” Updike communicates two distinct worldviews through the eyes of a checkout boy at a local supermarket. He places Sammy in a position to choose between the conservative and conventional, represented by Mr. Lengel, and the individualistic and non-conformist, represented by the teenage girls. In the end, Sammy chooses to defy Mr. Lengel.

Although Mr. Lengel does not make his grand entrance until the story’s final pages, many characters foreshadow his timely arrival and also his conventional outlook. Updike refers to the masses of shoppers as “sheep,” mindless customers who plop through the aisles, monotonously categorize items, and follow their unchanging routines; they would continue to do so even if someone “set off dynamite” (5). In a way, the local supermarket shoppers are the typical people we imagine. The people have normal, regular, and at times, boring lives. As we “walk” through the shopping aisles, we can guess that the A & P customers go to work from nine to five, come home, cook dinner, watch television, and go to sleep. The shoppers are so used to the same routine that they react with amazement as Queenie’s bare and strikingly white shoulders come into view They “jerk, or hop, or hiccup” and then immediately snap back to their shopping carts (5). At the end of the story, the sheep, who love scenes, all gather around to see Queenie and Mr. Lengel battle it out (19). It is no surprise that Updike emphasizes how habitual these shoppers are by placing them in the most predictable environment, a supermarket. In turn, the shoppers symbolize regularity, order, and common practice.

Likewise, the supermarket staff is astonished when the three girls come in. Sammy points out that it is perfectly normal to wear nothing but a bathing suit on the beach, but in an A & P, a bathing suit stands out too much in the cool air, fluorescent lights, and orderly packages (6). An older clerk, McMahon, a married father of two children, begins “patting his mouth and looking after them, sizing up their joints” (10). The men are reacting to the presence of the suggestion of sexuality in an environment which is usually free of it. Similar to the shoppers, the A & P staff is comfortable only when surrounded by static people and static events.

Our very first view of Mr. Lengel immediately indicates him as sturdy and hardworking, since he stays in his office all day, and as a man often engaged in manual labor, since he “comes in from struggling with a truck full of cabbages” (14). His role as a Sunday school teacher gives evidence that there may be an ensuing conflict between him and the three scantily clad teenagers. Lengel repeatedly barks, “This isn’t the beach” as he stares down the girls. In a profound way, Mr. Lengel, as manager and “head lifeguard” of the A & P, feels he has the right to enforce the professional tone expected in a workplace and denounce what is deemed unacceptable and inappropriate in a public place (14). He believes the girls’ frivolous attire has vandalized his sacred space and his morals, which are traditional and resistant to change.
Updike gives subtle clues that Queenie and her friends represent free-spirited and progressive minds. Sammy notes that the “girls were walking against the usual traffic” (5). Supermarkets certainly do not have divided roads for shopping carts going in different directions. Therefore, the three teenage girls signify a different outlook and attitude. As previously stated, the customers will keep reaching for products even if someone sets off dynamite; however, they all turn around to look at Queenie. The three teenage girls are the literal interpretation of dynamite: attention-grabbers and excitement. Finally, the girls dress and look very different from the conventional customer. Updike spends two pages describing the look of the girls as very noticeable. Queenie saunters in on her “prima-donna legs” with her bathing suit straps down. Her two friends, one in a bright green suit and the other with frizzy black hair, follow Queenie and watch her walk the walk (2). The teenagers are different from the usual herds that pass through A & P because they possess diverse opinions on appearance.

The true riddle of this story is why Sammy quits. On first glance, it seems that Sammy quits because he wants to stand up against the mean, demanding Mr. Lengle. He wants prove to the teenage girls that he is not conservative or conformist like the whole of A & P, but is he really acting on selfish instincts? Sammy quits because, in his own belief system, it is acceptable for men like McMahon to be attracted to young ladies and not feel guilty about it. Teenage girls are allowed to wear bathing suits and go grocery shopping. The girls have the freedom to attract attention and if they do, society should be able to resist the shock and surprise. To restrict oneself to a static view of society is to condemn oneself to the average.

Updike ends the story as Sammy realizes “how hard the world was going to be to me here-after” (31). It is puzzling because Sammy just quit a job that was deemed too stifling for him. What exactly could be hard about the world now? Sammy says that “once you begin a gesture it’s fatal not to go through with it” (30). As Sammy leaves the single-minded people of A & P, he knows he will encounter people exactly like Mr. Lengel. There will be many other Mr. Lengels and only one of Sammy. If Sammy is to stay with his beliefs, he must continue to combat the narrow mindedness of those like Mr. Lengel. (975)

I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich.

Teenage Wasteland
I am confident in saying that Daisy is trying her hardest to be a good mother; her intentions are good. When Daisy is called to the Principal’s office and “learns” that her son has been foolish, reckless, disruptive, and noisy, she immediately feels embarrassed. Daisy feels as if the Principal is criticizing her parenting skills. I feel sympathy towards Daisy as she struggles to figure out how Donny has turned out to be a delinquent even though she doesn’t let him watch TV or talk on the phone on school nights. Because she feels guilty for not raising Donny to be a better student, she takes all of Mr. Lanham’s suggestions. She wants her son to succeed and she will sacrifice some things in her life in order for Donny to improve in school. She begins working with Donny on his assignments every night; however, she ends up ignoring her daughter, acting rudely to her husband, and starting dinner late almost every night. The school calls Daisy and her husband, Matt, again. As they sit in the Principal’s office, I can’t help but feel déjà vu. Again, Daisy feels self-conscious about herself and her parenting skills as she sits in front of Mr. Lanham. Daisy and Matt send Donny off to Cal, the tutor. Daisy decides that she must put away her beliefs, her instincts that Cal cannot help Donny, so that her son may one day be a more stable happy teenager. Because she feels that it is her fault her son is rebellious and unsuccessful—that maybe she didn’t establish Donny’s self-worth with enough praises—she continues to send Donny to Cal, despite the bad reports. She continues to trick herself into thinking that Cal is the right thing for Donny. Daisy believes every word that comes out of Cal’s mouth. Unfortunately it is at this point in the story, when I become disappointed with Daisy. Instead of being mad at Cal who seems to make Donny retrogress, Daisy gets angry at anyone who mistrusts her judgment in sending Donny to a tutor. When Miss Evans calls and asks Daisy to start overseeing Donny’s homework, Daisy calls Miss Evans a “narrow woman” (55). We cannot solely blame Daisy’s bad judgment as a direct cause of Donny running away because Daisy’s actions stem from her insecurities. We must also look at Cal as taking advantage of Daisy’s vulnerabilities and love for her son. Cal continually guilt-trips her, saying that Daisy doesn’t trust Donny enough and that is why Donny is the way he is. I think that the most accurate and appropriate opinion on Donny’s problems is that of Miss Evans. “You are the parent,” Miss Evans says to Daisy (44). She clearly points out that Daisy needs to take control of the situation and be the parent she should be, instead of putting her responsibility in the hands of Cal.

Everyday Use
In many stories I have read, the new modern beliefs are always seen in a better light than the old rigid ideals. For example, in the Breadgivers by Anzia Yezierska, Sara’s idea of accomplishing the American Dream and going to college is more attractive than her Talmudic father’s ideas that women should stay at home, cook, clean, and care for their husbands. In Everyday Use, this concept is completely the opposite. Walker portrays Dee, the trendy well-educated daughter, as self-centered. In the beginning, Dee enthusiastically comments on the bench’s rump prints and calls the hand stitched quilts priceless treasures. Without even asking her family, Dee just assumes she can take anything she wants. However, in the eyes of Dee’s family, the quilt and the churner are items for everyday use. Dee looks at the items as her stepping stone to becoming a cool, exotic, afro-wearing woman. She does not look at items as having any sentimental value to her family. She thinks about their monetary value and their “cool-factor” value. It is ironic because Dee chooses to change her name to Wangero and is embarrassed by her family’s home, yet she wants to use her family’s quilts and butter churn as “art.” As she tries to gain possession of these items, she is disrespectful to her family. She calls Maggie’s brain an elephant brain and calls her mother backwards for not understanding her desires. In reality, it is Dee who should try to understand her family. Her family has been there for her. Her family has nurtured her so that she could be a top student and get the education she deserved. Nevertheless, Dee just sucks in anything anyone gives her and doesn’t give back; she takes more. In the end, Mother stands up to Dee, snatches the quilts out of Dee’s hands, and hands the quilts to Maggie. It proves that education doesn’t mean anything unless the person has the right attitude and is respectful of others, especially family and heritage. (816)

We are Curious Humans

I can recognize and identify humanity in people when I see it, but it is much more difficult to define its components. If I were to break down the elements of humanity, I could begin only by saying that humanity means we are all people who come from a common planet. Obviously, civilization has surpassed that definition. People can and want to do more than hunt, cook, and stay warm, all elements of primitive humanity. Modern humanity, I believe, has embraced more complex elements such as an appreciation for vastly different cultures and an increased awareness of technology, medicine, and global events. Perhaps what is most fascinating about what I perceive as humanity today is the ability to interact through an unprecedented number of venues, namely through art, music, literature, the Internet, and the telephone. With that said, artists have complete freedom to portray humanity any way they want. In The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, Mark Haddon’s portrayal of humanity in its simplest form is refreshing and intriguing.

Christopher’s essential humanity lies in his physical limitations. Because of his autism, Christopher does not have access to many of the “norms” of humanity. For example, communication is a fundamental human trait. This trait involves the ability to read a person’s face, recognize the emotion, and then respond with the appropriate actions. Christopher can identify emotions such as happiness and sadness, but he cannot read complex feelings that may have layered meanings (such as jealousy and astonishment). It is bizarre to think that Christopher finds it difficult to read emotions because “people’s faces move very quickly” (3). Christopher also does not understand why people show affection and other emotions through touch and embrace. He hates it when others touch him because he cannot identify its origin, whether it is love or anger. In the beginning of the book, Christopher hits the police officer who attempted to grab him.

Christopher’s shortage of social skills and inability to do other regular things in no way inhibits his humanity. In fact, it is even more profound because Christopher’s human qualities are concentrated, naturalistic, and basic. Curiosity is at the core of humanity. Without it, civilization would not be so advanced. It is curiosity of truth that leads Christopher to “wonder who had killed him [Wellington, the dog], and why” (2). Besides solving mysteries, Christopher loves to solve math problems. Humans have always tried to explain anything and everything that influences our world. When humans face a problem, they start off with observation. It may not be an instinct but it is vital to a human’s learning process and growth. Christopher’s unwavering attention to detail and memorization capabilities is beyond what is normally expected. When he is at the train station, he notices a holiday ad to Malaysia. He reillustrates the ad's two orangutans and details the trip’s price, the company’s phone number, and the slogan. In addition, Christopher locates Malaysia on a continent, names its capital and highest mountain, and explains the origin of the word orangutan. This can only be attributed to a combination of his curiosity, observation, and impeccable memory.

Ordinary people can do many things and have traits that can potentially stretch to the limits of humanity. Christopher may not be able to do all the things that normal people can do, but that doesn’t matter because the things he can do, he does extremely well. His powerful grasp on his senses enable his fundamental human traits to be magnified. In the end, Christopher may be more human than others because his senses are pure and lack deception (600).

A Man is Known by the Books He Reads

I have always been an avid reader. As an elementary school student, I was one of the weird kids that looked forward to silent reading time. By the end of first grade I had read two hundred children’s books and the librarian had already memorized my 10 digit ID code. Now, I am happy to say that I have progressed from enjoying Roald Dahl fantasies and Carolyn Keene mysteries to a wide variety of authors spanning many different genres. Some of my favorite books include Hot Zone (Richard Preston), a frightening bio-thriller describing the ghastly effects of Ebola, and The Plot Against America (Philip Roth), a novel that explores what would have happened if Lindbergh was elected president; however, I am not just a reader of serious, non-fiction books. I am a strong believer that an enjoyable read does not necessarily equal a well-written read. These books I am referring to are those teen bestsellers, like the Gossip Girls series (Cecily von Ziegesar). This "brain candy" chronicles the dramatic lives of high schoolers and requires minimal thought to comprehend, which sometimes is a relief in my busy life.

Unfortunately, yes, as I have grown up I read less, and as the school year starts, it becomes more and more difficult to incorporate some leisurely reading into my schedule. Overall, I firmly believe that I will always enjoy reading and that if, magically, there was an extra hour in the day, I would spend that hour reading.

Again, if there was an extra hour in the day, I would spend it reading, not writing. This is simply because I have always felt that achieving originality and excellence in writing is very difficult and that I should simply be on the receiving end of others’ words. This is not to say that I do not enjoy writing because when faced with an interesting prompt or idea, I always have something to say. I constantly surprise myself with what I can think of and my ability to translate those ideas into words on a page. I seek to challenge my writing skills because my structure and overall style is not as varied as I’d like it to be. I want to write more to improve my skills because, without a doubt, the ability to communicate effectively is an essential quality to success and also a life skill (394).