In all honesty, I did enjoy this class more than I thought I would. I don't know if it was placement between an economics course and a Latin American politics course or if I just maybe missed dissecting why a character chose to wear a white shirt instead of a yellow shirt. But whatever the case may be, I found it rather enjoyable to be in the class. I enjoyed the selections we read, with the exception of maybe Power. That one I just couldn't get into for some reason. I think it kind of dragged for me, and I lost interest rather quickly.
I enjoyed the set up of the course. I thought having the blogs were a good idea and I like the point distribution. I think it's fair and it doesn't set you up for fail. And by that I'm referring to the courses with one midterm and one final with nothing in between. It makes it rather difficult and I hate the feeling of sinking or swimming. I thought it was great that we use different mediums in class and different visuals. I'm not a visual learner per se, but there is nothing wrong with mixing it up because straight discussion gets super boring after a certain point.
One thing that surprised me was I thought of myself as a rather active class discussion participant. The main concern that addressed in the beginning of the semester interview was that class participation was a must. I normally am not the type of person who is actively involved in class participation. It's not that I don't care or am lazy, but I am the type of person to sit back and hear what other people have to think. I have my own ideas in my head, but I listen to others and compare internally. But I think I did pretty well. There was a different vibe I felt than in some other classes. I don't know. I felt like even though we were all from different grades that we were all equal. It was a relaxed environment and it was a fun to be a part of the class. I might miss it!
I love the questions that are usually posed at the end of classes, and the one posed today was particularly intriguing- does language carry culture?
Having studied French for a number of years and only taking up Italian recently, I have to say yes. I specifically thought about Italy and what would it be like if the Italian language didn't exist. It seems to me that a big chunk of the Italian culture would be missing. Sure, there would be the cuisine that Italy has, the landmarks, but there really is so much tied to their language and so many Italian words have been adopted into the English language as everyday use, like "pasta" or "cappuccino" for example. And when you think about music too, all the cues are in Italian- even in music meant for people that speak English. Not to mention all the famous operas that are in Italian. So, I think Italy is a good example of how a language can carry a culture.
In another sense, it's almost like an identity to a certain extent, especially when a language is limited to one or just a few countries, like Polish, for example. If the Polish people were to lose their language, they, too, would be at a serious loss. They're kind of in the same boat as the Italians are. Their language is generally spoken in one specific country. I almost think in a way, it's more exclusive than Italian because Polish generally isn't taught in schools. If I were to pick it up, it would have to be on my own through a language school or perhaps through my grandmother.
So yes. I think these are two really good examples of how important language is to culture and vice versa.
Yesterday in class, our group chose the passage on page 40 in Power about religion. We had a good discussion about it, but after class I thought even more about it, since I wasn't focusing on Hugh Chavez and Latin American Politics, and I think one of the reasons why she has such a hard time with the preacher is because her belief in nature is so strong. This contradiction shows when Linda Hogan writes, "He believes in angels, children with wings in the sky, but he doesn't believe in what's on earth or birds; he says it's all an illusion, this life on earth, a dream, a miserable place we will one day escape into the golden streets of heaven (40)." In the very beginning pages, we read about how aware Omishto is of the nature that surrounds her. We get a very vivid description of all the senses she's taking in while she's in her boat on the pond. She even states, "this place I call mine" on page 2 while talking about her time in nature. Religion is hard for her to grasp because it's not tangible. She can touch, feel, hear, taste, and see nature, but no one really knows about "heaven" because there have been no first-hand accounts from such a place. What we are told are from The Bible which is thousands of years old, and some are still very skeptical about what the Bible says. So, as long as she remains so connected to nature and what she sees in front of her face, she is going to have problems believing in the religion of her mother and the preacher.
I should probably finish the book before blogging, but I'm all about doing things out of sequence. Not to mention, I've enough information to make a decent blog post.
Anywho, having been through two thirds of the book, I'm still unclear of many things in this book, especially with Lucy. I don't think that's any fault of my own through careless reading because I do enjoy quick reads like this, but I think that's mainly because I think Lucy is even unclear of herself. What confuses me the most is that Lucy seems really bitter towards her past and her homeland, but yet, everything that occurs in the present, she is able to relate back to something that occured in her past- and I'm convinced that's because that's what she knows. I'm guilty of doing the same thing. However, with this disdain she's got for her homeland, and especially her parents, I would think that her past would be the LAST thing she would want to think about, and would look forward to the things in the future.
There was one thing that I think I finally figured out in class yesterday and through reading and that was why Lucy seems so bitter. I'd have to say that 85% of her bitterness is due to her parents. I think she sought to have a better relationship with her mother. From what we can tell so far, her mother didn't play an active role in her life. And I think the more time she spends with the family she's with, the more she sees how badly she was shafted from her mother. Now, she's got something else to compare her own relationship to, and she sees that Mariah is more of a hands-on mother. The other half of that equation is her father. I understand he's her father, but for me, it would be hard to respect a man who had 30+ children and I would often wonder where I would stand in that situation, as well as my own mother and how she ranked in that list of women- would she really be loved or just another notch in the bedpost. That many kids are a lot of babies, and therefore, there has to be a lot of other women in that mix, too.
As for the book cover, I think it's pretty fitting that the publishers/author would choose this. For one, she's naked. In this book, she's coming to terms with her sexuality. Secondly, she's got a hand up, kind of like she's blocking off communication. This is also relevant because there are very few people she lets into her life. She often picks and chooses who she wants to associate with and open herself up to. We see this in her relationships with Hugh and Paul. Hugh, she shut out, but she's opened up quite a bit with Paul and has maintained a steady relationship. Her eyes are also an interesting choice. They're not directly facing forward. Instead, they're shifted a little off to the side. This can be taken two ways. The first one, can be her looking out for herself. As I said, she's got that hand up in the air, like she's keeping something away. So, it can be taken like she's looking for something that would be a potential threat, meaning certain people, for example. The second way, which I think we dicussed in class, can be thought about her as her looking at her past. As I discussed before, she constantly brings it up and cannot seem to let it go.
I'd be curious to see what everyone else things about this book cover. The good thing about art is that it can be interpreted in so many different ways with no right or wrong answer. Thoughts are welcomed about this!
I really enjoyed This Blessed House, mainly because it was a quick read and there was not a lot to have to think about upon the first reading. In a way it was kind of comical because of Twinkle finding all of these relics all over the house, and with them being of a completely different religion. The story works in that aspect though because Twinkle is a very multi-dimensional character, and seems like the kind of person that would be open and welcoming to something new, unlike her husband, Sanjeev. I'm not picking on Sanjeev though, because I do respect his point of view. In a way, he was geared to having that kind of mindset because everything he did was by the book. He had a near-arranged marriage which isn't all that uncommon in India/the Hindu faith and he went through extensive schooling to become an engineer. Those two things in my mind make him a literal person because there's not much room for interpretation when it comes to engineering, it's basically just math and science. Twinkle, on the other hand, just seems to kind of go with the flow. She's a literature major, and after taking this class and previous English courses, it's very evident that just about anything in literature can be translated to mean just about anything. To me, that just gives her an "anything goes" kind of attitude, which is really important. I think these two are good for each other, despite their little arguments here and there. They say opposites attract and that's more than likely the case.
The one thing that I didn't like about this story was the ending. I felt it was too abrupt. It would have been interesting to see how everything played out between them and whether or not Sanjeev just accepted Twinkle for who she is. It wasn't until the party that I think Sanjeev didn't start accepting and appreciated Twinkle for who she is. Everyone had a good time with her, and even one of Sanjeev's collegues complemented Twinkle on how "Wow" she was. I would have liked to have seen how Lahiri would have wrapped up the relationship.
After reading this, I was curious to see what kind of book this short story came from. Even though it's not always appropriate to use Wikipedia and professors frown on it, I still think it's a good tool to use when you want a general overview of something. Thus, I headed over to Wikipedia and found Interpreter of Maladies. I had no idea it won a Pulitzer Prize! If I have the time over the summer, I'd like to read it, after I finish Lolita :P
I'm looking forward to watching "O" in class. I'm pretty sure I have seen it before in middle school, but I don't remember much of it.
It's interesting to watch all these different productions of the same thing because of the different interpretations that can occur. As we saw in class, the same scene was interpreted in four or five different ways. The same thing is often done on a much grander scale. Earlier this year, I watched opera's take on Othello after having just read the play in Italian (which is quite the feat if you think reading it in English is hard). I thought it was a really good production, though I am not much into opera.
One of the things that struck me about this production was how well they got Placido Domingo to look of African decent. This sounds really bad, but every time they had a close up on him, I would look to see if there were any make-up lines on his face or on his arms. But the job was so well done that I didn't see any. And then I got to thinking... I understand that Placido Domingo is one of the most revered opera singers on the planet, but couldn't they have picked an opera singer of African decent to play the part? As I said, I'm not that well-versed in opera and who's considered the tops of the tops (other than the obvious), but I'm sure there had to be someone that could have been selected in order to play the part. It seems to me kind of a faux pas to make someone out as a black man, when there were options of the real thing and thus brings into the picture the argument of race, again. Did the directors not think that an African opera singer was good enough for this production? Perhaps research would answer these questions, but I find it hard to imagine that there was not someone of African decent available, willing, or good enough to play the part. Aisde from Placido Domingo being world-reknown and thus, becoming a money/profit issue, what might have been wrong with selecting a lesser-known opera singer who could have used the opportunity to launch his career and become as beloved as Domingo?
Right. So. I here I am doing my weekly Wednesday posting and I have legitimately nothing to write about Kind of scary. So I'm going to have to wing it. Needless to say, this will probably be one of the posts that I won't be including in the few that I want graded.
One of the things we discussed in class last Thursday was the concept of displacement. A lot of people had some really good input, and the idea that I wrote down was being out of one's own realm. I kept it kind of general because there could be many conditions in which one is displaced, and this is one of those definitions that I don't think could be accurately described because there are quite a few circumstances to which displacement can occur- it could be by force, or it could be by choice. When people travel, obviously, there is a chance of feeling displaced, especially if it's to a country in which they are not used to the customs or they have the same skin color. I think the other half to this definition is the sense of belonging. To me, being displaced also means not being assimilated or welcomed, or perhaps even secure. I think about all the times that I've been somewhere else, either in the country or abroad, and granted the choices I've made in my travels have always been safe, I've never really felt displaced. I have tried my best to relate myself to a culture and try to be like them so that I wouldn't feel out of place.
Though the word displacement often has a negative connotation to it, I don't think bad every time it happens. It could be viewed as a learning experience, as most things in life. I think Sam was the one who came up with relating displacement as a journey, which I really liked hearing. There's almost a romantic notion to it, knowing that there's a start and an end. Very often life is described as a journey and I was trying to figure out if there is a reciprocal way of putting it, but nothing seems to be coming to mind. If life is this so-called "journey," what exactly are we displaced from?
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Last night I was watching my nightly installment of Sex and the City and the main storyline was Carrie finding and enjoying the company of her high school sweetheart, who was played by David Duchovny. It wasn't until some time in the relationship when he confessed to her that instead of "taking time off" like he had told her, he was actually institutionalized (for what, I don't remember). And one of their dates was on the institution's front lawn for a picnic. I looked up the title of the episode, and coincidentally enough, it was entitled, "Boy, Interrupted."
I came to thinking about these two characters in both the TV show and the film and the funny thing about them in comparison to the rest of the patients at the institution is that, unless you really know them, one would have never have guessed that they had any sort of mental illness, either from a visual perspective or by what they do or say. Though Suzanna was institutionalized in Girl, Interrupted, I think it was taking it one step too far. I say this because there were a lot kids when I went to high school who tried some sort of self-harm, such as cutting or other means. And more often than not, they received outpatient help and weren't institutionalized. In Suzanna's case, it wasn't until she started to associate with Lisa that she started to do things that were really out of line. Lisa had the dominant personality, and Suzanna was really influenced by this girl. I think she almost felt a pressure to associate with her so that she wouldn't become a victim of Lisa's tirades.
The question was brought up in class about the title of the film. Looking at the big picture, I would have said the interruption would have been the stint at the institution. But upon further inspection, I really think the interruption was Lisa. I think had it not been for Lisa, Suzanna would have gotten out of the institution a little quicker because before and after Lisa, Suzanna had be doing fine. After meeting Lisa, I think Suzanna realized the value of her own life, and thus, pushed herself to be more cooperative, more willing to participate in therapy so that she could get better and get out of the institution.
It seems like these days, mental illness is almost commonplace, and that's probably because we know more about such illnesses and these people that are afflicted aren't just freaks of nature. Girl, Interrupted is a good gauge to see how far we've really come in trying to understand mental illness and the treatment involved in helping the patient. There is definitely more respect towards them, and more things that can be done to help people cope with their illness. I somewhat enjoyed the movie, and if I can find the time, I wouldn't mind reading the book because I feel like some things could be better explained in the novel than in the movie.
I'm not going to lie. I'm a very shallow person. And perhaps that's why I don't do very well in analyzing text- but that does not necessarily mean I can't do it. So needless to say, when I was sitting in class on Tuesday, I was going through one of my shallow phases when we were talking about this crazy wallpaper that the narrator became so entranced with. When someone mentioned that the narrator saw the woman in the wallpaper, I was reminded how weird that was and joked with myself that this narrator must be really strung out on something strong. Well, for whatever reason, I was reminded of this "art" craze in the 1990's when everyone was all into this 3D art that, if you stared at it long enough, you would get a vision amidst all the craziness. And then I realized, in context of "The Yellow Wallpaper," yes, the narrator was crazy. But at the same time, we all had to look pretty ridiculous even though we were all perfectly sane in the 1990's crossing our eyes and telling everyone to shut up so we can get at this image behind the pattern.
Despite my shallowness and the whole 3D art thing, I did manage to come up with two themes about "The Yellow Wallpaper," and they both kind of tie into each other. "The Yellow Wallpaper," to me, is about truth and perspective. One of the questions that came up in class was, "how can we trust the narrator knowing she's got a mental illness?" My response to that is why should we have to trust her? After all, this story comes from "Anthology of the American Short Story," not the New England Journal of Medicine. It appeared that the narrator was writing this stuff down because she needed an outlet because her turd of a husband only cared about her medical condition, not her as a person and she really had no friends that she spoke of to let out her feelings. For this to be her outlet, much like these blogs, she's free to write whatever she wants without having the criticism of others- that's what she had her husband for. Therefore, why does it it really matter what she was speaking was the truth or not?
Perspective is also important for this story. From the perspective of a perfectly sane person, the wallpaper could have never come to life and start sprouting women. It's just not possible, unless you're in Disney World and they can trick your mind into thinking so. As for the narrator, there are a couple things that might attribute to her hallucinations. As we covered in class, she was clearly suffering from postpartum depression, which is never good. And secondly, I think her living a very solitary and lonely life for these few months inside this rented house did not help her situation at all. I hardly consider myself a medical doctor, but I think if she had more stimulation or at least more people surrounding her, she would have been a little better off. Her husband was so wrapped up in himself, and she had no friends to confide in otherwise. Having such a secluded life probably made the situation ten times worse because she had all the time in the world to think about the things that would bring her down. And in a way, perhaps in this middle of all this bleakness, what she really wanted was a friend, and her hallucinations were really a subconscious want for a friend. So maybe from her perspective, this was a way of entertaining herself, which in turn, turned out to be entertainment for other people in this published writing. So in short, the author, in my opinion had a very valid perspective. What she saw was what she saw and thus, wrote about it. It's as simple as that.
My last question about all of this is... because of our individual perceptions, do we ever know what the truth really is?? It's definitely one of those long, philosophical questions that I'm sure we can go on for days with, but it's one of those questions that cause us to really think about the truth and our relationship to it.
Oh, and by the way- the 3D art is a guitar and musical notes :)
I was going to write about one thing, until I read some of the prompts on the main blog- and I still might write about it later. But the one prompt that inspired me for at least the first part of my entry is the idea of having a room of my own. It's probably safe to say that I'm not the only one who feels that it is important to have a space of one's own.
Quite honestly, one of the things I look forward to the most when returning back to college is decorating my dorm room. Why? There are two reasons: 1.) it's really fun and 2.) I can decorate it so that when someone walks into the room, without looking at any pictures of me in it, they will know that it's my room. This year, the main focus of my room is the huge Italian flag I have draped on one wall and a map of Italy on the other. This is completely representative of my time abroad in Rome. It was a period in my life in which I will never forget and had made friends there that I plan to keep in touch with for the rest of my life. Along the same lines, there are posters of London that line my walls, which is one of my other favorite places to visit and a city in which I can also recall some great times in.
The second major focus in my room is all of my music posters. As I mentioned in class on the first day, I selected the 80's as the period in which I would have liked to have lived in, mainly because of the music. Music is an important part of my life. I have one wall that is totally covered in posters of The Police, Duran Duran, U2, and Coldplay from the floor to the ceiling. There are also various other items in my room that I could point out and someone would say, "Yep, that's Lauren's room" such as my leopard print futon and my random DVD collection, but all these little thing make up a bigger picture, and that bigger picture is me.
Aside from the decorations, this room is my sanctuary. This is my little home away from home that serves as more of not only a place to sleep, but it's more of an all-purpose room. It's not only where I sleep, but also where I study, socialize, and relax. Despite having many distractions in all different corners of the room, it's where I, believe it or not, study the most. It's comfortable, and I have purposely designed it that way. I find it more conducive to be comfortable and relaxed when it comes to studying, rather than locked away in a sterile library. I reminded of Sander's essay about the center, and in terms of the center for me at Saint Mary's, my room is it. This little room in Le Mans Hall is a room of my own, and without it, I'm sure I would be lost without a center.
The second thing that I'm going to touch upon is this whole aversion to women thing. As I senior, I can say that just about every year I have seen the theme of misogyny rear its ugly head in either one class or multiple classes. While I was reading Woolf, I grew increasingly irritated going through chapter three because I kept seeing sentences time after time that expressed the inferiority of women when compared to men. Some examples include on page 41, "Women are poorer than men because- this or that" and on page 42 it talks about the abuse of women in the history of England, and again on page 46, "Women cannot write the plays of Shakespere." I want to make clear that I am by no means a feminist. But this kind of talk really aggrivates me deep down.
Thinking about it, I can come up with at least two reasons why this sort of backtalk against women really infuriates me. One reason is probably due to the fact that I go to Saint Mary's College- an all-women university. I am surrounded by girls who are doing the exact same thing as the boys across the street, and perhaps we even do it better. I am being taught by female professors that have gone on to get masters and doctorates that some men only dream of doing. As a woman, I am empowered by being here at Saint Mary's because I am surrounded by the success of women and I know that women can do exactly what men can do. Perhaps, I've known that longer than I've realized, which leads me into my second reason why it irritates me that women are given a bad rap. The second reason is because of my own mother, who bothered to start a company with my dad dealing in heating and air conditioning, which is a field that is not traditionally dominated by women. She gave it her best shot and now, it is a successful company. She did this while raising my brother and I, which wasn't easy because we were so young. She often tells me that she would go to meetings while my brother and I played in the lobby of whatever building she was in. In my world, that's a huge thing. The bigger pictures is this: anyone with a mother (all of us, unless some of you were dropped from a spaceship) knows the importance of a mother. And that in itself is the one thing that trumps all male occupations because there is not a price tag you can put on motherhood.
I realized that even since the time of this book was written, women have come a long way and I shouldn't even be stressing about this because it's been proven time and time again that men and women are equal. However, there are still things until this day in 2009 that show that is not necessarily the case. Unfortunately, I don't think that's going to change in the near future.
