Wednesday, February 27, 2008

"Lestrygonians" Observation

This is a really difficult text to read because Joyce uses (third-person) streams of consciousness rather than a traditional, structured third-person narrative (so it reads like a person's thoughts, meaning that there are lots of fragments and jumping around, because in real life, one idea often gives birth to a new one altogether, seemingly out of nowhere, and they are not always in complete sentences). He also seems to go back and forth between writing from an outside narrator's point of view and from the perspective of the main character (Bloome). Anyway, I like this part:
Stuck on the pane two flies buzzed, stuck.

Glowing wine on [Bloome's] palate lingered swallowed. Crushing in the winepress grapes of Burgundy. Sun's heat it is. Seems to a secret touch telling me memory. Touched his sense moistened remembered. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth. Below us bay sleeping sky. No sound. The sky. The bay purple by the Lion's head. Green by Drumleck. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Fields of undersea, the lines faint brown in grass, buried cities. Pillowed on my coat she had her hair, earwigs. In the heather scrub my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. O wonder! Coolsoft with ointments her hand touched me, caressed: her eyes upon me did not turn away. Ravished over her I lay, full lips full open, kissed her mouth. Yum. Softly she gave me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled sweet and sour with spittle. Joy: I ate it: joy. Young life, her lips that gave me pouting. Soft, warm, sticky grumjelly lips. Flowers her eyes were, take me, willing eyes. Pebbles fell. She lay still. A goat. No-one. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants. Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. Wildly I lay on her, kissed her; eyes, her lips, her stretched neck, beating, woman's breasts full in her blouse of nun's veiling, fat nipples upright. Hot I tongued her. She kissed me. I was kissed. All yielding she tossed my hair. Kissed, she kissed me.

Me. And me now.

Stuck, the flies buzzed.
I like the way Joyce uses streams of consciousness here to connect the mating flies to a memory of a sexual encounter between his wife and himself. The passage is particularly powerful near the end, when Joyce gets more explicit by mentioning "nipples" and "tongues." The sexual encounter reaches its peak just as Bloome thinks "she kissed
me" (my emphasis), and then the word "me" leads him back to the present, the "me now" (again, my emphasis). Then he sees the flies again. At this point, Joyce brings the passage full circle, and one might even say that, in a way, he uses the romantic memory of the Bloomes' lovemaking to fill in the details of the "stuck" flies' own lovemaking. We MIGHT even be tempted to say that he compares/contrasts the flies and the Bloomes and, doing so, humanizes the flies or, conversely, animalizes Bloome and his wife.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Struggles of Women

Through out this short story, one is able to see the struggles that women have had to endure through the lens of academia. Virgina Wolfe, uses the narrator to develop many ideologies as to why women have had to endure such hardships through out time. She develops this in many different ways, first by developing the idea that women are not permitted to do many things that men are allowed to do, such as simply walking on the grass rather than a gravel walk way. Wolfe, then furthers here argument by looking at the financial possibilities for women in the concentration of writing. She discusses the fact that many of the most famous writers were indeed men until a certain point in time. She writes that during the time of Shakespeare no woman would have ever been able to write that way. She then develops he idea that women’s rights have been changing by looking at several of the latest writers and the struggles that they have been able to bring forth such as female realist writers writing about a lesbian relationship.
While Virgina brings up many points as to the struggles of women in writing, I would like to question this in a very different light. The genre of sports seems to much the same as writing. As many women were unable to compete in any form of competition let alone to be considered some of the greatest athletes of their generation. Yet, has this changed today, I would argue that just as Wolfe has seen the writings of women go from none to the abilities to write about lesbian relations, women in the area of sport have gone from no recognition to being considered some of the greatest athletes of their generations. I would argue that, Virgina Wolfe, sheds light not only to the struggles of women during the time of her writing, she has shed light to a genre of women struggles in society.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Three Lifetimes, in two Hours

In contrast to my previous post about Virginia Woolf's essay, I think that the Hours is an extremely effective, and powerful message, not just for the place of women in society, but the place of lesbians in a society that is not accepting to them, and the place of artists and visionaries, and in a world that seems to care little for finding a deeper meaning to existence. At first one begins to question what it is that these women have in common that they all should be placed in such a strong comparison. The movie assists in this nicely, however, the complexity of the commentary is astounding, and though I have seen this movie three times already it would take many more for me to fully understand it. One of the most impressive displays of this is in the use of device to connect characters throughout the modern (1950, 2001) stories to the archetypes that Virginia Woolf is faced with. For example, by connecting the cracking of the eggs of Clarissa (the 2003 woman) with the cracking of the eggs of the servants, Clarissa is more often than not compared to the mundacity and business of the everyday life of Richmond surrounding Virginia. This is also quite obvious from how Richard treats Clarissa in their relationship. However, Clarissa often times also plays the part of Virginia, as seen from her conversation with Richard's ex, she seems to be "stuck" in a spiritual sense, and life has never seemed the same to her since her days with Richard. Also when Richard makes her feel as though her life is "trivial" he represents the archetype of Virginia's husband and the male dominated literary world. I am particularly fascinated and impressed with the integration of 1950's conformity into the story as it is a very powerful display of socially conditioned oppression perfectly appropriate for the tale. In my opinion the character of Laura Brown serves to live out the actuality of the Mrs. Dalloway character created by Virginia, and since this story merges with the modern story of Clarissa and Richard I think that this then creates a dichotomy: the author, and her characters as manifested in reality, and the resonating effect of such characters into modernity. It is a beautiful story that I have loved since I saw it the first time, although I will admit it does become a bit melodramatic at times. In short it is hard to say what unifies these characters but I think if I were to pick it would fall somewhere in the gray areas between the following quotes:
"Im living a life I have no wish to live..." (Virginia Woolf)
"It (meaning her previous life) was death....I chose life." (Laura Brown)
"To look life in the face, and know it for what it is, love it, and then put it away..."(Virginia Woolf)
It is amazing but the movie almost seems to leave me with a sense of having experienced what is described in this last quote.

A beautiful film to the very last moment.

Give them free...

Woolf proposes to show how uneven the playing field was for women at her time in literature (amongst other fields). I do not believe that Woolf is necessarily advocating for some sort of separate education for women—rather I believe that Woolf recognizes that women have been downplayed in literary terms for so long, that the few women that make it tend to, somehow, assimilate to the mainstream male-oriented literary culture and are not represented in full, free terms. Women writers who write as they wish, experiment, think independently, etc., were perhaps shunned by the literary gate-keepers and so the successful women writers had to sort of conform. Her need for “money and a room of her own” to write successful fiction is not to be taken too literary. It’s meant to show the vast different and uneven playing grounds that men and women face entering the literary market. Goes in line with the saying I once heard, “Women have to work twice as hard to be thought of half as good.” So the women need to be isolated from this oppressive phallocentric society that only supports men—and attempts to condition women to similar thinking—they need to isolate themselves from that, get some money for food, etc., and begin to be free enough to think for herself.
I.e., men stop hating…give the women an equal opportunity, or give ‘em a room by themselves, with some financial support.

A Room of One's Own Review

In A Room of One’s Own the one main reoccurring theme is inequality and power of men over women. This theme is prevalent when the narrator is unable to find hardly any history or scholarship on women. Not to mention the information that she did find had a biased perspective written by men. To further illustrate the theme of inequality, the narrator made up a story about a Judith Shakespeare, the sister of William Shakespeare. William was always able to pursue his ambitions where as Judith was restrained. When her father beats her for refusing marriage, Judith is an example of the power of men over women. By the end of the story the narrator comes to the conclusion that even though Judith may have had just as much if not more talent than William, since Judith was a woman, her talent was confined by the society that she lived in. Inequality is also portrayed in the statement, “A women must have money…to write fiction.” Not very many women had money back in old days. Women were discriminated against, not getting paid as much as men for the same job, therefore men had power over women. In conclusion, because men had power over women, there were not many successful women writers.

A Tomb of One's Own

A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.

Finally, a gender's issue that isn't forced! Mary Beton/Seton/Carmichael very plainly, easily, and happily writes a story for us which we can understand. She contends that Judith Shakespeare, a fictional sister of William's, would not have been afforded the same respect had she the same talents as her brother. In a metaphorical sense she asks for five hundred pounds a year to sustain any female author as she writes.
But this is not any militant feminism. Instead, she seems to be promoting the poetic license of any artist, so long as all are given equal credit and equal criticism for their individual efforts. Oxbridge, then, becomes a satire of the previously masculocentric literary world.

That a woman should be given the same opportunity as a man seems justified and fair.

Woolf On Wabash?!

While sitting, reading, and thinking in a room of my own with five hundred a year, these series of thoughts came to me.----“For we have too much likeness as it is!” With that quote, Virginia Woolf (or Mary Seton, Mary Beton, Mary Carmichael, or whomever) suggests that Wabash College, a college for men, is a good thing. While Woolf’s lengthy speech fundamentally concerns the need for supplying women with a room of their own and five hundred pounds a year to live on, whether figuratively or literally, I believe it resonates with a suggestion that women and men should be educated separately so as to hone their individual and unique voices. Woolf states, “Ought not education to bring out and fortify the differences rather than the similarities?” She elaborates further, discussing how men and women can only write truly excellent poetry (or prose) if they are unencumbered by competition with the other sex. Competition pits one gender against the other, it forces males to defend their sex and a females their own. However, according to Coleridge and Woolf, for the mind to be resonant and porous, for it to transmit emotion without impediment, for it to be naturally creative, incandescent, and undivided, the mind must be androgynous. It must utilize both voices distinctly, without defending one against the other. It must be free to go where it pleases whether that is to a mark on the wall or to a scene where two people get into a taxi—it must be free to explore. It must be composed of the truth, and not just gender specific truth, rather it must “celebrate some feeling that one used to have, so that one responds easily, familiarly, without troubling to check the feeling, or to compare it with any that one has now” (2098). And it must do so for both men and women—not falling on deaf ears to half of the population. Indeed, it may seem somewhat paradoxical, but for Woolf, the mind becomes androgynous not through mutual interaction and education but through individualized gender specific education that elevates each voice respectively and doesn’t pit one voice against the other. She’s not saying that one sex can’t write about the other sex or can’t think about it or can’t interact with it (in fact by mentioning the shilling size hole on the rests on back of each persons head that only the opposite sex can see, she proposes that these things should happen), she is merely suggesting that in respect to providing for the best the education of women and men, so long as society continues to change in the favor of equalizing the rights and opportunities of women, they must be taught separately.

A Room of One's Own

This piece was a little hard to wrap my head around, at least for the first couple of chapters. While I thought that Woolf presented a decent argument, “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction…women and fiction remain, so far as I am concerned unresolved problems,” I think she dabbled too long in over extended examples. I found it very jarring and surprising (well, maybe not too surprising) that she would make such a note about luncheon parties in short stories, “It is a curious fact that novelists have a way of making us believe that luncheon parties are invariably memorable for something very witty that was said, or for something very wise that was done. But they seldom spare a word for what was eaten.” (P.2096) Who is seriously interested in what the characters are eating unless it does something devastating to them later on in the story. Sorry, just had to blow off some steam for a second. I did, however, find the Shakespeare portion of the piece somewhat entertaining. Her little anecdote of how women would write if they had Shakespeare’s genius in his day and age did make me think a little bit. But then again, great genius comes along only every once in a while and thankfully, there are some women in our day and age who have that genius and write amazing literature, and some of them had no money to begin with…she did, at least have a room, or a cafĂ©, same difference.

A Room of One's Own


Virgina Woolf’s essay A Room of One’s Own is an account of Woolf’s Opinion of women’s literature during the 1920’s. Women’s oppression in the literary world is the theme of the essay, and this is made clear due to Woolf’s feminist tone throughout.

Although Woolf does come across as a feminist in the essay her message is not to bash male authors by any means, she is simply outlining women’s role in literature and seemingly making the reader aware of their situation during this time.

Not only is Woolf reviewing women’s literature but the actual ability to create an art form of any kind. She states that women are unable to do so as they have not had the options perhaps that male authors and scholars have received.

The opportunities of education, publication, experiences through travel to write about, and furthermore a simple writing space to create literature, hence the title A Room of One’s Own.  Women’s roles were more important at home, than out making any kind of money or getting an education in the 1920’s, so chances of becoming a success through literature was extremely unlikely.

In conclusion my first read of Virgina Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own was enjoyable as It gave a first hand account of some of the pressures women had to go through in the 1920’s. Woolf affectively delivers her opinions, seemingly as a feminist although her thoughts never overpowered me, which was nice.  The part on Shakespeare’s sister was particularly interesting because it was intriguing to think if Shakespeare was a female would she have got the similar recognition that he did?


My Internal Struggle About Her Need/Claim for a Need for A Room

Were women that oppressed? To only want the necessities, a room of their own? IT IS THE TITLE OF THE NARRATIVE. Striking and descriptive, tactful and Subtle. What does it mean? Not to share the room with a man, or even a mate? A scary thought, one which made me writhe in displeasure, that she would bottle up herself, stuck in so much contempt against a whole half of humanity, even though some of them hadn’t been in control of their own outcome.
It’s a reciprocal hate that she is unjustified in returning.
“Turn the Other Cheek.”

Who Am I to judge though, because the same time, is hers not a simple request that can’t be given? Was not England the bastion of liberalism, ushering in the 20th century? Obviously, as we have been learning, NOT! The Women wanted Only 500 pounds, equivalent to a “simple lifestyle, not worrying about food, or living expenses”?
I guess that I can’t speak, not having been particularly around nor a minority when she was writing.

BUT, its at the same time, not like she didn’t have food to eat. A dinner of plain soup (WHAT WAS SO PLAIN ABOUT IT?), aveage beef, some vegetables and potatoes (IRISH HAD JUST EXPERIENCED A FAMINE), and bad custard, prunes, biscuits and CHEESE, along with water.
She could have been eating that night the grass she so wanted to walk on!!!
And more reasonable, when the men are ahead, or anyone for that manner, why would she we want to emulate their example?

I’ll think I’ll return to my room, as a White Male, a White Male…

A Room of One's Own

To begin I would first like to say that I myself found it very interesting to get a women’s point of view on the literature and history of the world. At first I found it hard to understand, but then I began to get inside the narrator’s mind. Woolf did an amazing job at basically transitioning you into the narrator. Now, I can begin to express my thoughts on the writing. I found it very intriguing the way that Woolf used the phrase “A women must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction” (Norton 2092) to symbolize the strife of women throughout history. When I first read the line I only thought about the monetary value. I said to myself “Sure, give anyone, man or woman, money and a room of their own, and they will be able to write.” But then, after reading further I discovered the deeper meaning in the phrase. Woolf doesn’t see just the monetary view of the phrase. She sees it as if you have money, then you are educated and are in a sense free to express yourself through your writing. To support this I looked at the first section and the lunch and dinner scene. The lunch was extravagant with wine and dessert, and it inspired rich and optimistic conservation. The dinner, on the other hand, was just beef and prunes and inspired nothing. The lunch represented men and Oxbridge college with its rich history and abundance of well, while the dinner represented the women and Fernham college with its restrictions and lack of wealth and history. This was not the women’s choice, but what they had because of the men. Women were being restricted and constrained. They were being forced to conform to society. Having a room of your own is also very important because it shields you from the pressures and social obligations of the outside world. It is a place where women could be themselves and express their emotions without the anger and resentment by and towards men. I throughly enjoyed the essay and learned alot from it.

A Mind of One's Own

In Virginia Woolf's essay "A Room of One's Own," she constructs a statement of the oppression of women based upon how this oppression has affected her as a writer. Accordingly, she creates a parallel between the room that a person needs to write, and the rights of women throughout history-thus I have decided to title this blog "A Mind of One's Own," signifying the freedom of women to think as independent people, for this is I think the true intention of Virginia Woolf's essay. One of the most striking arguments she makes is dispelling the counterargument to the place of women in literature. As she talks you immediately get the very extreme sense that she is claiming that women throughout history have been entirely overlooked and even ignored as insignificant, even detestable parts of society, not worth mentioning in literature. She immediately brings out the negative aspects of male-female relationships such as wife-beating, arranged marriage, the inability of women to earn their own income, in hopes of painting a bleak picture as women as history's unseen slaves. However, the counterargument to this is that, even if women have not been viewed as equal, they still often times enjoyed venerated place in literature as elegant creatures of beauty and morality, as apparent from art, literature and poetry dating back to the times of classical society. She dispels this argument by recognizing this fact and saying that these women have "burnt like beacons in all the works of all the poets from the beginning of time." (2114) However, she makes the distinction that this is very clearly the image of "woman in fiction," and that the reality of the state of women is that of a dumb slave that could "hardly read, scarcely spell, and was the property of her husband"(2114). This is a strong argument, however, a depressing one, as I feel that I now have to readjust my lens of thought whenever I read a historical romance, or poetry and realize myself to the reality that no woman was ever venerated or respected, loved or adored in such away but in reality was used and disrespected as a tool for these artist's pleasure. From the sarcasm in the previous remark, it is obvious that such broad generalizations seriously make me question Virginia Woolf in spite of the fact that I very much enjoy the creative spirit of her writing and the perspective that she brings into the literary world. I will accept that the place of women in this time was by far anything from equal,, and that the writing of men about women is at best a gross misrepresentation of the spirit of women. However, this same argument works in reverse, and I believe her commentary on the nature of men is also at best a gross misrepresentation. When she says things to the effect of "How is he to go on giving judgment, civilizing natives, making laws, writing books, dressing up and speechifying at banquets, unless he can see himself at breakfast and at dinner at least twice the size he really is...(in comparison to women)..." and "Take (this image) away and man may die, like the drug fiend deprived of his cocaine." I think that this is an extreme generalization as I honestly believe that not every man in history has derived his power from "feeling superior to women" and that at least some men respect women more than this (e.g. chivalry, gentlemanliness, courtship, etc.). In doing this she not only steps outside of her capability to comment according to her own harsh divisions (e.g. men cant write about women, so women cant write about men) but she also falls victim to the same form of rhetoric of those chauvinists who foolishly claim that women have inferior characteristics. I think in this way her argument is strongly blunted, and while subjective and not made for "truth" as she claims, nonetheless, remains slightly unconvincing.

A Room of One's Own

I believe it pretty much goes without saying that Virginia Woolf is an extreme feminist. And, it should also go without saying that A Room of One's Own is an extremely feminist work, dealing mainly with the issue of male oppression of females. Normally, a work like this has to be extremely persuasive for me to really listen. This is by no means because I have a single misogynistic bone in my body, but I just view it as complaining. I know that there is a strong argument that literature is a great vehicle for enlightening people to issues such as this one, but there are a number of much more active things that a person could be doing instead of just writing. However, I will say that this work does not seem to me to be complaining as much as others I have read in the past. Woolf's technique for pointing out that women are being oppressed is much more unique and useful than just simply complaining about its occurrence. The fact that the work is somewhat of a story and not simply an essay helps to eliminate any natural guard the reader may have against feminist ideas. The best thing that Woolf does is to actually propose real solutions. Granted many feminists have proposed solutions, Woolf's use of a room of one's own to symbolize all of the solutions is very effective. Through this, Woolf gives an actual thing that women need, instead of simply saying freedom and rights. The room helps embody the rights and freedoms that women must have to actually be equal to men.

Mark on the Wall Exercise

Door knob. Slob on My Knob by 3-6 Mafia. What a stupid rap song. I need to go to the store after class. That reminds me, I hate school. Door knob. Door of knowledge. I have no idea why I thought that. Eric Gordon is going to own tonight. I met a girl that knew him well this weekend. Thats kind of cool. Too cool for school.

Woolf and the Velvet Underground

I usually do not like feminists or any strain of feminism, for similar reasons why I do not support campus movements for a multi-cultural center: both movements seem inherently to defeat their purposes of promoting equality and diversity. Feminism seeks to end male privilege by... advocating female privilege. A multi-cultural center seeks to promote diversity by... confining international students in their own special interest building. However, I didn't mind Ms. Woolf.
She was sensible in her arguments, often balancing her "Women have served... as looking glasses... reflecting the figure of man a twice its natural size (2110)" statements with those like "All who have brought about a state of sex-consciousness are to blame (2146)." She does not let her observations on women lead to an overarching, patriotic call to arms for the empowerment of women worldwide. And for this I am thankful.
But it isn't her sensibility that makes me like Virginia - rather, it is this that keeps me from disliking Virginia. She befriends me when she sentimentalizes "reality," the reality that "overwhelms one walking home beneath the stars and makes the silent world more real than the world of speech (2149)." Hers is a sensitive reality, that which quietly transcends the clamoring parlor talk of certain Granvilles and Percys. And to her, experiencing and concentrating this reality in the written word is the most notable job of the author: "to find it and collect it and communicate it to the rest of us (2149)."
This is, I think, a power of the arts which is absent in most other studies - the power to overwhelm you in that lucid feeling of transcendence which arises after you read good literature, listen to a good song, watch a good movie: the power to, if only for a moment, redefine your reality. It's in Salinger's Catcher in the Rye; Fitzgerald's letters to his wife, Zelda; Camus' The Stranger; Eliot's The Cocktail Party; the movie American Beauty; the song Heroin by the Velvet Underground; paintings by Edward Hopper - at least for me.
For Ms. Woolf, no doubt, it was in a room of one's own, reading Shakespeare.

A Room of One's Own

This is the second time I have read Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own. Each time I read this pseudo-story/essay, the phrase “poverty of our sex” stands out (Norton Anthology 2102). With this phrase, Woolf combines two instances of hardship: the lack of money—and inherent low quality of life—and the oppression of the female gender. The combination of these two elements really comes to life in this line: “Every penny I earn […] will be taken from me and disposed of according to my husband’s wisdom […] so that to earn money, even if I could earn money, is not a matter that interests me very greatly. I had better leave it to my husband” (2103). With this quote, we can see how men oppressed women even WITH money; in this respect, there seems to be a never-ending cycle of subjugation between money and the women of the era about which Woolf speaks, and it seems this would be especially true of the POOR women of the time. Being women, they already encounter oppression, and with little or no money in the family bank, such oppression would increase exponentially. Of course, we must remember that women in lower-class families would probably do more, and thus perhaps even control money in some instances, unlike the “rich brat” of the upper class, who has everything handed to her. We should also remember that these aspects of society do not simply disappear in our time, and we should examine them more closely in EITHER time. However, due to the space and time constraints of this short assignment, we will not be able to go into more detail. Finally, it is important to note Woolf’s use of her own streams of consciousness, the thoughts that lead her to the following conclusion: “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction” (2092; emphasis mine). Woolf’s streams of consciousness carry the story for over fifty pages (in the Norton), and they give insight into Woolf’s revelation—examples and proof as to why women, in her view, live and work in abject poverty. One such example is when Woolf goes to the library and realizes that men wrote the bulk of the books there, and a lot of them are even about women, but women have had little/no agency to write similar books about men (2105).

Monday, February 18, 2008

A Room for One's Own: What I got

As I read this story, I felt I was reading the thoughts of a strong feminist. I felt that there was a lot about the oppression of women and how their lives are dependent on men, therefore they are lower than men. Because they are dependent on their male counterparts, they are not able to achieve the same fame or appreciation for their literary works that men get. In other words, female authors are not as successful or recognized because they weren't "as good" as male authors (such as Judith, Shakespeare’s twin). Woolf explains the plight of women in terms of possessions. Women do not have writing rooms or enough money. But this, I think Woolf is making a slightly more symbolic point. By her room, I think she is referring not only a quiet place to write and concentrate on their material, but also I think she is referring to a place in society. A social equality that allows women the same respect as men. A “place” where women may write and gather the same support for their works, something that was not commonplace at the time. By money, I believe Woolf is referring to financial stability, and also to financial independence. From the reading, I think she is trying to make a case that any woman who wishes to write may do so, but she would need to be financially secured, not having to rely on a male to support her as she goes about her endeavors.

A Room of One's Own: The Subjective Truth

The narrator of this piece claims that through all of her rambling she has only one opinion on the topic of woman and fiction (her essay topic): a women needs money and a private room to write good fiction. Of course to come to this conclusion she combs through many themes, one of which carries over from “The Mark on the Wall:” the subjective vs. objective truth. She continues to argue that people think subjectively, and that any objective analysis contains little truth because it is shaped solely by men. Early in “A Room of One’s Own” she points out that any controversial issue, which sex is, cannot hold any truth, rather “one can only show how one came to hold whatever opinion one does hold” (2093). It is because of this that the narrator chooses to write about woman and fiction through fiction as opposed to fact. It is through this line of thought that the narrator eventually reaches one of her most important points: that women should write what they want to write with little worry of judgment. An objective judgment of a women’s writing by a man is nearly impossible, therefore to worry what others think of your writing is “the most abject treachery” (2147). Woman need to understand that the measuring stick and the game of praise and blame are futile efforts when one simply writes what they wish.

A Room Of One's Own

There is a theme in the first chapter that suggests that women are oppressed by men. This is shown threw the rule that women cannot walk on the grass and also, how the Beadle walking toward the narrator, was the reason why the narrator lost her idea that she was “fishing” for. Also when she goes to the library to view a manuscript she cannot enter without a man of the college accompanying her. While she is searching through literature on woman studies she realizes that all of the authors are men.
To write about a subject like women or men there are always two sides. What the men see and what the women see. Both side will be bias and this biases contain a view that the other would not one hundred percent agree with. Also, depending on what you are looking for in a text depends on what sexed author you should read. Woolf shows a how mans view of the world can depress a woman’s will to create and be imaginative through the texts and the authors that she views and her experiences at Oxbridge. This is what supports her thesis, “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” Women need their own space away from the oppressed views that men have placed in societies eye.

stream on conscious

solid slices of wood creating a sigificant piece of work. A solid piece of work whatt is work, why do we work? is Work necessary, I would say nothing is necessaryeven for people who view the world materialistically. Yet, many would argue that the only thing which is important is self preservation. But, why is America only conserned with ourselves. Are so so solin in nature that we feel significant with out a significant other.

"A Room of One's Own"

I was very surprised when first reading Virginia Woolf’s, “A Room of One’s Own.” This was an interesting read for many reasons; it is a narrators view, of women and their role in society in the 1920’s, and especially how Virginia views money, a room of her own, or any women’s room for her own; and how this deals with women writings and there inequality to men. I believe that she wrote like this because when she was alive when women were treated this way... They were just getting the right to vote, so that says enough. In today’s standards of equality, men and women are the same for the most part. Woolf predicts that until these inequalities are rectified, women will remain in a lower class and their literary achievements will also be less important. Women today can actually write and make poetry and was one of her major themes and that shows the difference in the times. Also women are allowed to go to college and do many more things today than when she lived. She said women could not write because they do not have a room, because they do not have money, which makes him inferior to men because they don’t have privacy or time to write poems or books. Every chapter was so interesting because of the stories she would make up like Judith Shakespeare, William Shakespeare’s made up twin who wanted to write and make plays but couldn’t because she was a women. It just surprised me as how she related the room as a symbol for many larger issues, such as privacy, leisure time, and financial independence, each as a component of the inequalities between men and women. I believe that this writing does not hold up with today’s beliefs of equality, but is still very interesting to see what she thought and how she interpreted these inequalities of men and women.

mark on the wall exercise

The Clock

"The clock is there, right in front of me, high on the wall. It is always going and never ending. It just keeps ticking away. That constant ticking just means time is always going and on the move. That just means our life is always slipping way from us, if we are not watchful. Time is always drifting away. It can be easy to be left in the dust if your not careful..last night when I was writing my religion 273 paper, I just watched the clock and time tick away. Time just keeps slipping away, that why everyone needs to sieze the day."

Sunday, February 17, 2008

The Mark on the Wall: The Outlets

I look upon the small electrical outlets on the wall and I being to questions some things that I've never had to question before. It seems so odd, but why is there always 2 plug-ins for every outlet? Would it make sense to only have one? Why not three. I've seen some with four, but usually only 2. Would it be better to have multiple plugins? A hassle? A cause of electrical fires? In my room at home I have many outlets, but they are lonely. They have only one cord feeding of their electron filled buffet of energy, and there is no second one. That is, of course, because I don't have much electronics in my room. A lamp, a reading light. A radio... the occasional laptop or cell phone charger... but on the whole not too much. Not that I am pseudo-Amish, I just don't use my room for much. A place to crash, a place sleep, not a place to live. That's what the living room is for, hence the name. But now in my room at college, there is a lack of open outlets. Power-strips are common place and used heavily. So, why is it that there are only two? Why not one, or ten?

the Scars of the Chalk on their Board

"It. The white remains of chalk dust spread out as if they didn't know of their destination. But can I really refer to chalck as a person or personify it, with a knowledge of what it should or shall be doing? Perhaps I should describe the mark on the board as would an artist, describing the significance in contrasting context, delineating the up-down pattern that was made by the human who did make it. To as her intentions, why or what she hoped to make by it, I cannot remember -- I actually do, but shalln't tell you -- the mark nevertheless remains, as a marker or scar of some discussion."

Besides, why am I writing in a stream of consciousness format? So that I can feed into my sub-mind and then understand deeper of my mind? Deeper into what I really am? Is it not better to reason and slowly move along, taking small steps that are necessary, so that I may not reach wrong conclusions? Isn't delineating by a reasoned process a better process?? A BETTER B-e-t-t-e-r process.

But that's fine, the music is too low, and then the conversation is too loud, about people and "who they are," how much they "dedicate to who they are." Why do you have to talk so loud?

Isn't silence the better option of the two? Isn't keeping a closed, quiet, reserved mouth better? Or not, because I'll keep talking and as the bullets fall from the gun, we'll just remain quiet, and subject to the scars that chalk leaves on boards.

Stream of Consciousness exercise

The light shines as bright as the sun that I don't know I don't know brings warmth to the earth with its I don't know I don't know I don't know luminous beams of I don't know life bearing I don't know I don't know I don't know I don't know I don't know I don't know assurance assurance and security I don't know I don't know but what the light does assure me I don't know is I will not be I don't know left in the dark on my own I want the light it gives me hope and life and I don't know motivation to continue my journey and my calling let the light shine on to help me and my brothers and sisters mobe towards peace and enlightenment.

Mark on the Wall Exercise: The Block on the Wall

There is a block on the wall, what could it be? It resembles a piece of molding made of plaster or wood. It could also be the remnants of an old speaker box for which communication could have been made. Who would have used the speaker box? Could it have been used by the dean or the administration office? Or, it could have been used by the professor? But, what if it is not a speaker box, it is just a piece of molding. Then, why is it there? It just sits there all alone. What lies beneath it? What secrets lie beneath this piece of hard heartless wood? There could be a hole behind the block that looks into another room. The hole could have been made by an angry student who punched a hole in the wall, or it could have been made by an earthquake or tornado. But that scenario is improbable because there aren’t serious earthquakes in Indiana, and if there had been a tornado it would have destroyed the whole building. Why is that block on the wall and what secrets about the past does it hide? I will never know because I am not tall enough to reach it and I don't have a ladder.

Electric Socket

The electric socket was the focus of my "Mark on the Wall" stream of consciousness exercise last Thursday. With that said, this is what I got:

Electricity. What does it do for me? It keeps my computer running; that's for sure. And what's on that computer? Homework, readings, papers, an address book...mail. Oh, the post office! When will my next package come, and what will it be? From where, whom? Karen: I miss her. The weekend!

Mark on the Wall

Electric Socket

The female and male pieces go together perfectly, why can't we go together that easily? It is making a face at me, two eyes, one nose, but without a mouth. I think this lack of a mouth demonstrates well my current inability to talk to you. How long has it been? Only a few days I'm sure...seems longer. The three holes surely meet in the middle, bundles of wire, electricity flowing together, creating something positive. I want this feeling. I had it...I lost it. Still I feel the face is mocking me. Is this a giant prank, where you step out from the shadows with a smile, and the happy ending of every romantic comedy lives again. Not likely.

Thermostat- A Mark on the Wall

The silver robots reflecting 50's conformity. The akward looking toasters 50's women with bell-shaped hair...conformity conformity. An ancient city of vast technology burried under the ocean , perfect, like we thought perfection in the 50's, in the 50's. I have a silly desire to feel connected with the termostat curving gently to the left away from me. Always away from me. Curves never work in my favor it seems. What is a place for men in todays world, there doesnt seem to be one, he is the thermostat, the mindless mechanisms of society.

Mark on the Wall Exercise

The wooden chair used as a desk for students attending Wabash College the home of the ''Little Giants'' So many essays and notes must have been taken on these chair/desks how old are they? Around ten years Im guessing, maybe older we need some new ones though because these are extremely uncomfortable especially for long tuesday thursday classes The wooden chair/desk that makes your back ache pains me every class with its harsh seating none of this makes any sense to me and is probably one of the more uncomfortable exercises I have done uncomfortable just like the wooden chair/desks that I sit in ever tuesday  and thursday.

Water Bottle

Water Bottle

I’m thirsty, I’m bored, and I wish I were some other place right now working on something I think might have a bit more meaning to it. The list of interesting activities numbers in the hundreds, but those at the top of my list includes chatting with Amanda or Ashley, even though I’m sure they’re either too busy or uninterested. Playing Halo 3 or Rainbow Six Vegas would make me seen either antisocial or lazy, unless I was playing with a group of friends I got along with. But I’m not lazy, I’m just restless and eager to get away from here and walk around, listen to some good techno or J-pop on my Ipod. My water bottle is nearby, so I can grab a quick swig and get back to thinking about my list of amazing activities outside of this place. It’s funny, normally sleep would be the first thing on any sane persons list of activities outside of the classroom, but it’s not on my to-do list. Or rather, it’s more like at the very end of it. Besides that…oh, time to leave. Maybe I put time to some of those fun little possibilities I just thought about…starting with a quick visit to the water fountain. My bottle feels a bit empty.

Change the Face Free Write

I see the poster on the wall. "Change the face of politics." Can we truely change the face of politics? Can we truely change anything? Can we make a difference? And even if we were to somehow make a change, would we really have accomplished anything? And on the picture on the wall, I see faces. Many faces, black, white, yellow, and red. As if everyone has the ability and the chance to change society. Is this true? Do they really? Honestly, doesn't the white male have the best shot, the greatest likelihood of doing anything that will effect society. You really can't say everyone has an equal shot. Not that they shouldn't--just that they don't. But I guess thats what their asking, for other faces to get involved, to try and make a difference. Although, then again, when it comes down to it, what does impacting this world really matter anyway. C'est la vie!

Thursday, February 14, 2008

S-o-C Excercise

Map of America Septentrio Nalis:

Map and big ships with white sails carrying trades and goods and slaves. Injuns and pre-Americans living together captured by their own desires of prosperity they paranoia-insecurity and travelling acrosses the marshes or sands to stop the voices in their heads by killing them Indians. Irrespective. Disrespecting. The quiet doesn't last. It comes back to kill they kill they kill. Nonetheless and forward more further the understanding of psychologically latent behaviours behaviors and the succesful commercialization by Edward Burneys I don't know how to spell his name Freud travles to America with women marching together light a smoke tell a joke codefied crack fiend lean on the leans of the poor and strip away like gunshots speak knock knock who's at my door speak speak speak kill the victim, mother a.k.a whore scrape off scrape off scrape off lil 'tasha harlin's orange juice head band gunshot spoke to her she can't hear no more voices speak run away love run away love run away i hate that song anyways the fake Ludacris-heart sympathy Lupe kills it without needing to it's the difference between truth and honesty love and in love hip hop and rap rap it up wrap it up

Mark on the Wall Exercise

keyhole on the wooden table the table on which yesterday professors and maybe last century professors and years years years ago professors even the mr ezra professor leaned or sat or leaned sat asking lofty minded boys not girls vague kids what was the subjectivity objectivity subjectivity of when the winter afternoon sun falls through the window and lighting upon my desk at what tune do i digress mr ezra and the children talking in poems and riddles of what the poem riddles or talks like bow and arrow men foggy eyes foggy air and where is the target so that english classrooms from here and out should not be classrooms not english classrooms but parlors some backdoor nest with cigarettes and shiny cups candle lit and people warm people whispering while others cold people take the air over the table some wooden table with a keyhole yet even the whispers will i think or should i think unlock something

Thoughts on "Leda and the Swan"

I remember thinking about this the other day in class, when we were talking about "Leda and the Swan," but we ran out of time before I could formulate my thought; and then I forgot to post it. So here it is.

As we talked about the poem, I realized that Leda and the swan are two opposing forces but also, more importantly, that Yeats himself had opposing forces clawing at his own psyche: his paradoxically nationalist yet anti-nationalist tendencies/leanings. How does one believe in something but NOT believe in it at the same time? Thus, in my mind, "Leda and the Swan" is Yeats's way of dealing with that. I think what really made me start thinking about this was when someone mentioned that Yeats was the swan, the rapist. I thought, "Well, couldn't he also be Leda, in a way?" The word "indifferent" was a significant (pardon the in-sentence pseudo-rhyming) catalyst for my theory. The thoughts began to gel. While we can see Yeats as the swan, it is just as interesting to see him as Leda. In this way, we can imagine Yeats's struggle with his opposing ideals, his nationalist and anti-nationalist views. As Leda, he feels as though he himself is the rape victim of England (or civil war, as we mentioned in class) and, more specifically, nationalist ideals (Or is it anti? I'm confused as to how that works. With the British colonization/overthrow, does "nationalist" become a reference to the NEW system, the British-run Ireland, or does it refer to old Ireland?). In any case, if we use what someone said in class, the idea that the swan MIGHT entice Leda (in a sense), this theory seems correct. This would refer to Yeats's nationalist (?) leanings as being enticing yet terrifying at the same time. Finally, I'd like to look at the last lines: "Did she put on his knowledge with his power / Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?" We already talked about what these lines mean. We said that the narrator is wondering whether Leda copied/took the swan's knowledge/wisdom, while also mentioning his power, and this would make sense for my reading of the poem, but the last line is more significant. The "indifferent beak" seems to be another reference to Yeats's ideological struggle, as it implies that the swan itself (again, metonymy comes into play) is indifferent. He doesn't know what to think; he's confused about what is right and wrong; he is on both sides, so to speak, of the issue.

Does anyone have any comments? Could this be correct? Why or why not? I didn't have a lot of time to articulate this; it was just a thought I had.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

The Hours...and hours...and hours...

The Hours was interesting. Set in three different time periods, it attempted to connect all the women in equally depressive/oppressive environments. The environment is most poignant, perhaps, in the case of the LA woman, the mother of Richard. She goes farthest, and attains her freedom most completely of all the women. Virginia Woolf kills herself--partly some form of insanity, partly (maybe mostly) the life she leads. All the women seem to be stuck. Most obviously Mrs. Woolf, also the Julianne Moore person; Meryll Streep's character was harder to discern. Her life is horrible and she plans parties to ignore the silence pervading in her life. All the women had awkward relationships with awkward silences--however, the first two women escaped theirs. Meryll Streep remained, with a fully grown daughter and a partner. Her and her partner's relationship seemed as strained and...stuck as the others.
In an attempt to make sense of everything i just laid out, the purpose of the movie came when Richard asked: "what do you do with all the hours? the hours after, the hours in the morning?" or something to that effect. Being scarred by some event, in this case emotional, what do you do with the remaining hours of your life? Is it your life? When did your life not become yours anymore--when did you lose control of your life? In answer of this, Mrs. Woolf kills herself, Julianne Moore saves herself and runs away--from traditional responsibilities of the wife, the kids and the husband. Meryll Streep didn't have a husband, she had a wife-sort of, and maybe she didn't have any physical thing to escape. But there is that void--the reason she is Mrs. Dalloway. That part of the movie I couldn't really figure, and I'm not saying it was a great movie, or that I'll bother to watch it again. Actually, I don't know if I have anything more to say.

The Very Confusing Hours

The Hours was a very creative and artistic film. You have three different women who each lived in three different time periods, but were all somehow linked to one another. The film kept switching back and forth from time period to time period. That was where the confusion set in. Now, all three of the women were depressed. They weren't able to live the lives that they desired, and therefore, were confined and restricted. So they lived depressed and confused lives. Maybe what the director was trying to do was have the viewers somewhat feel how the three women felt. I know I left the viewing of the film feeling confused and depressed. If there is one thing I got out of this movie that would be freedom is a desired feeling. Even though all three women were well off, they felt trapped. They wanted to be free, but never really reached that distinction.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Re: Empire Gone Wrong

The British Empire had a goal. They wanted to globalize Britian rule. The movie doesn't come right out and say it, hidden inside the message it is clear. It is well known that by 1921 the British Empire held "control" over a population of about 458 million people, approximately one-quarter of the world's population at the time. The people who were sent to colonize and reform in other parts of the world were more or less bull headed. They were there for economical growth and because power is a well known ambition for men. Britian didn't worry too much about the culture they were imposing upon, they were there because they thought that Britian was the greatest place on earth and it was the duty and job of those who were bless to be in this society to gel the rest of the world into a British mold. It is amazing to think of the culture and traditions that have been lost to the tides of empires. The world will never know.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Apocalypse Now, Way Ahead Of It's Time.

The opening scene's of the movie blew me away, and that doesn't often happen to me unless Im watching: Goodfella's, Scarface, or a select few of my other favorites. Furthermore, another war movie really did not appeal to me after sitting through countless others time and time again.
As I said before the quality of the opening scenes were a first for me in film; never before had I scene such great cinematography as-well as an amazing soundtrack to go along with it. 
I will not critique the entire movie but Im very glad I saw it, and it will definitely be added to my dvd collection in the near future.  
When comparing the novella ''Heart Of Darkness'' and this movie, there are obvious comparisons. The entering of the jungle, in search of a man named kurtz, and of course: ''The Horror! The Horror!'' so many similarities are seen throughout.
Apocalypse now is a great adaptation of Conrad's novella; although European Colonialism is replaced by American Interventionism the theme is still clear and Conrad's famous stories of his travels into the African jungle are depicted wonderfully in Copella's epic movie, Apocalypse now. 
USA is playing mexico right now in soccer, although the level being played can only be described as second rate. I think i might put Apocalypse now back on!


Why Apocalypse Now is Amazing

I do not use the word "amazing" lightly in the movie genre, I own a lot and have seen a lot more.  It takes mighty good reviews for me to purchase a film, because I don't want to spend 20 dollars on trash.  I bought Apocalypse Now as it was recommended by all the best critics and a few close friends of mine.  The very first time I saw this film I thought the story was hard to follow, I do not mean the very simple assassination portion of the story, but the politics and psychology involved.  What I did appreciate was the imagery and the way the film, through impressionistic means, as a whole showed me a picture of dark and bleak insanity.  I remember sitting through this and almost forcing myself to bypass some of the more gruesome of psychologically taxing portions, I speak of the puppy on the boat, or the psychotic Colonel Kilgore.  I watched as Americans proudly mowed down dozens of human beings and was affected.  Nothing made a more lasting impression though than the end of the movie when the sacrifice of the steer corresponded with the killing of Kurtz.  Everything was perfect in making us feel as if we had experienced our worst nightmares on screen.  Insert Heart of Darkness.  Reading and analyzing this novella in class added an entirely new dimension to my appreciation of the movie.  I noticed just how many parallels are made, Kilgore being the incompetent individual who is in charge simply because he won't die, the american photographer representing the Russian, and the wonderful way Vietnam was made to be the interpretation of the hell which was the unknown in the Congo.  Much more of the psychology was transferred to me after I read the book, but the most important thing and biggest success of the movie was the way the feeling of the book was so accurately transferred to film.  The book used impressionistic means to convey a sense of darkness, and the movie did the exact same thing through music and imagery.  I thought the movie was even better having watched it after reading the book, I was very very much impressed.

Conrad in Coppola

Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now (1979) is a transplanted (Korea instead of the Congo), retooled, visual version of Joseph Conrad's story Heart of Darkness. There is much to say about this film, especially in regard to Conrad's story, so I will attempt to be brief in this post. Since I am very interested in film, and how movies are made, the presentation itself is very interesting to me. The writer's/director's uses of shadow and face paint are particularly interesting: as Williard (Martin Sheen) arrives at Kurtz's (Marlon Brando) camp, the shadows become more prominent, the face paint more symbolic. While the other soldiers consistently use the face paint to blend in with their surroundings, to protect themselves, near the end of the movie, face paint becomes Williard's tool for accomplishing his task. Williard paints his face AND submerges himself in the shadows so he can finish the job he came to do. Thus, not only is the face paint a survival tool, it is now a full-blown weapon for Williard. Because the other soldiers have not used the paint quite in this manner, this also depicts Williard as special: he is the leader, the strong one, the soldier who will get the job done. In terms of the visual aspects of the movie, I was also interested in the different colors of smoke, but there is not enough room here to analyze them in detail; and honestly, I am not quite sure what they mean, if anything. Another visual aspect I noticed is that the sounds of warfare can be heard ALMOST constantly, whether through music effects or sound effects (helicopters, bombs, etc.). Finally, the movie is rife with stereotypes and images of the natives as savage/barbaric. One example is when a soldier says, "Fucking savages," and then shows hypocrisy as he and his squad violently "shell" the earth and natives as a way to get revenge, thus becoming savages themselves and, in my opinion, even MORE barbaric. A final example of the use of stereotypes is when the soldier who likes to cook (I can't remember his name) looks around and says that he is seeing "pagan idolatry," which he seems to define as "skulls and altars." Not only is he stereotyping paganism and making sure it is seen as evil, he is presuming that the natives are indeed "pagan," and he does this because of the war imagery that surrounds them. He does not account for culture and the fact that these natives may not know any other way of conducting warfare. He also does not know the conditions under which this war imagery (heads surrounding the cave) was created (re: self-defense, fear, etc.). To put it more bluntly, he is Otherizing the natives, turning everything they do into something terrible, when in fact he is doing the same thing: killing human beings. Maybe that's the issue. Maybe he doesn't see them as human beings.

Japan in World War I

For those interested (as we discussed this in class the other day), Wikipedia actually has a pretty good, succinct account of Japan's actions in the first World War. Here is the summary at the top: "Japan participated in World War I from 1914 to 1917, as one of the major Entente Powers, played an important role in securing the sea lanes in South Pacific and Indian Oceans against the Kaiserliche Marine. Politically, Japan seized the opportunity to expand its sphere of influence in China, and to gain recognition as a great power in postwar geopolitics." I knew a little bit about Japan's influence in China, from my history class, but I wasn't sure how to frame it (or when it happened exactly). Just looking at this summary, I can put some things together in my head and tell you that Japan's influence in China extended BEYOND the war, as even in about 1924, Japan was still there, dictating, etc. Japan took over China's education system, putting Japanese teachers in schools and even making Japanese the official language in schools (for more on that, see the book Wild Swans by Jung Chang). The movie Farewell My Concubine actually has a lot of good information about this subject, but you have to sift through a lot of other stuff (e.g., the issue of the male bond and homoSOCIAL relationships—especially in Chinese opera—marriage customs, and so on). It is a very good movie—a LONG one, though—and I definitely recommend it, especially if you know anything about China.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Re: Apocalypse ?Now

This is the end, my only friend, the end...

Francis Ford Coppola had to have chosen the song to introduce the mood//movie.

I find it interesting that Cop. had his Marlowe (named Willard) be an ex-liteuaneant, sufferring from depression. I guess with film adaptations, such as this one, background//situational building is a necessary/crucial thing. I wonder if Coppola could have done justice to the adaptation if he hand't chosen the Vietnam conflict?

... OOO he just punched the mirror. Blood, and then beer. Not necessarily a good combination.

Back to what I was saying --- the parallels are obviously there between the savagery of the African jungle and the Vietjungle, the Black tribal and Charlie. Was Francis' work then, a political statement, channelling the festering feeling against the war? Was his work completed during the war, or was it made post the ending of the war?

...Now playing the tape of Captain Kurtz:
I watched a snail crawl along the edge .... back in my dream... Its my nightmare, crawling, slithering along the edge of the straight razor and surviving.
But this kingdom, we must incinerate them, pig after pig, cow arfter cow, villian after villian, ... and they call me an assasin, what do you call it when the assasins accuse the assasin? they lie, and you have to be merciful for their lies..

those Nabalms(?) ... I hate them.

this is the scene. There is a deep and strong emphasis in the scene modeled by how Coppola is shooting it: hearing a Kurtzian narrative while just focusing on just an assortment of plates and food. The speech tingles the spine; we, as watchers, are stuck, glued to Kurtz's deep voice.

"Sometimes the dark side overcomes what we call the better aims of our nature."

Once again, the theme of the "dark," or "darkness" returns. They (The American Government) (akin to the Trading Company) want to kill Kurtz ( or in the orig. H of D, want him dismissed//almost like they are mad at him for ignoring the rules of colonialism).

"Terminate with Extreme Prejudice!" - This guy hadn't spoken yet? Therefore what he says is important? Why did Coppola chose to include him?

The surfing Captain represents who? But of Course:: The accountant in White: He tries to surf//make things exactly like home.

I love parallels, but alas I must leave and enjoy the rest of the movie.

As they say in America, Good Bye.


Leaves fall from the trees
Like red, brown, and orange snow flakes
An Autumn snow fall

Requited Symphony

Her hands dance about

Winding scars where wings once spread

To root in the sun

Monday, February 4, 2008

Vibrant Rays

The first break of light,

Heaven and hell gently brush,

Streak of hope recurs

Broke Down

Fed up and tired
Can't stand one more single day
What is there to do?

random haikus

beginning to knock
the wide heaven opens up
fall the world away

dipped, in the cold night
my white oily fingers now
the liquid moonlight

heaven's garden-safe
the snake rummaged through the leaves
watch: the virgin world

Standing in the snow
tall, the tops of giant elms
mirrors in the night

Sunday, February 3, 2008


November is here
cold and gray the wind cuts through
skeletons of trees.

Window-ing into a Courtyard

“With Her, Early Mornings”
Leans over, to kiss
Towards blue sky, her mouth shuts
Quenching the Earth sand.

In response to the Album “Cat Stevens: Classics, Vol. 24”
Yes Cat, Sasquatch sir
If I sing loud out –AHEM!
I’d be shunned by them.

Sixty seconds left
Strolling through the blonde midnight
Hold your breath, Now. Jump!

Haiku X2 by Arschel Morell

In the still darkness
My heart beats for you always
Now and for all time

Advice for classes
Need some advice, here it is
Bring a pillow, k?


a true foundation
with all pieces together
one can stand proud

My Feelings Toward the Super Bowl

Want to watch the game.
Super bowl commercials bore.
Want Giants to win.

Liam's Haiku

I hate poetry
meaningless babble reread 
until it makes sense  

The Superbowl For Me

Staring at a screen

Waiting for the football game

Excited but sad


Two willows stand firm
No man will ever cut down
Still nature may end

Haiku's about Chicago

I think about you
Fireworks, taste of the Chi
I’m so proud of you.
(In response to Kanye West's song, "Homecoming")

Saint Patrick’s Day, Green
Goes the Chicago River,
Beer, Hair, Hearts, and Souls.

Enormous buildings
Shines bright lights over the lake
First place I found love.

Homage to Fall

Praise the autumn wind

Leaving bright stubborn traces

Of ever fleeting forms

This Side of Expatriation

metropolitan 1920
wet city street lamps
blur laughing sinatra cars
to the apartment

fitzgerald to zelda
wise and tragic sense.
"zelda, save me the waltz," since.
smoky saloon jazz

zelda to fitzgerald
"ah-ha, Mr. Scott!
...nice girls smoke cigarettes" too,
loft cocktails black shoes

Apocalypse Now Review

Well, this was certainly a mind blowing movie experience. While the comparisons to “Heart of Darkness” are ever apparent in this film (from the character of Kurtz to the fog shrouded attack on, I think the film delves deeper into the title novella dark subject. I mean, exploring the unknown in Africa is one thing, but going through the warped psyche of a soldier in Vietnam was a far more disturbing picture to analyze. I give special props to Marlon Brando. He was considered one of the greatest actors of all time for a reason and his nightmare inducing portrayal of Kurtz solidified this for me. I felt in the same place as Willard, wondering why a decorated war hero like Kurtz would become this crazed maniac who is seen as a borderline God to the people surrounding him. But what really made this film work for me turned out to be the scenes featuring Kurtz himself. The lack of any light on him, especially in his first on screen appearance, gave me chills and clearly illustrated the darkness that had overtaken him. He was the darkness; a void of terror whose mind could not be analyzed nor explained by anyone. And even if he could be read, would we want to know what makes Kurtz tick? Perhaps, “The Horror” he proclaims with his last breath is exactly the type of horror none of us would ever want to know. All in all, a film to remember and seen by all, Apocalypse Now by Francis Ford Coppola.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Just a Few Haiku

After a long time
Discussions on poetry
The class then ended

White as cotton tufts
And cold like no other weather
Snow dropped in inches

A calm and quiet
Hush fell on nervous masses
The buzzer starts them

My Haiku: Snow Falls

Snow Falls
by Roger Market

The winter snow falls
And sticks to earth and asphalt.
Oh, driving is hard!

In light of the weather, and the fact that I had to travel this weekend, I thought this was appropriate. Drive safe, everyone!

Conrad versus Coppola

The first thing would notice as a similarity between Conrad's Heart of Darkness and Coppola's Apocalypse Now is the characters. The main character in Darkness, Marlowe, takes a job in that takes him deep into the jungles of Africa, a dark place that was relatively unknown. In Apocalypse, Willard takes a mission that sends him into the deep, dark jungles of Vietnam/Cambodia, a place that was quite unknown. Both characters engage on this mission by heading up a river that carves through the mysterious jungles, stopping at points of 'civilization'. The missions that both men embark on is oddly similar. Both men must enter the dark jungles to find a man named Kurtz. Oddly enough, the main characters become entranced in the legend of Kurtz, and completly enthralled by the enigma the man creates. Kurtz in both story is man of great education, success, and legend. But as the main characters approach the coming the character of Kurtz becomes more and more clear. The Kurtz characters both seem to have become completely insane, having become a hero among the native people and denying the former culture from whence they came. Another similarity is that throughout either story, Marlowe and Willard commentate the events that happen and give their own social and cultural commentaries.

One thing that amused me was that in Apocalypse Now you can hear the men on Willard's boat call the Vietnamese "savage" but the only time Willard uses the word "savage" he is referring to the other American soldiers. Also, just as Marlowe uses the ship's horn to scare away natives, the Chef uses the ship's siren to scare away the Cambodians. And of course, when Willard kills Kurtz he then whispers, "The Horror! The Horror!"