Friday, December 11, 2015

Connections

While I was reading Jon, I kept on feeling something was familiar... what do you call that, rendez-vous or something? Anyways, during our class discussion, we discussed how the story reminded us of other short stories/books, like the Junie B. Jones collection, I think someone said "A Series of Unfortunate Events", but for me this book reminded me of the book "Flowers for Algernon" (I book talked this last year and I bet I've talked about it in a previous blog post).

Note: there will be spoilers in this blog post if you're going to read "Flowers for Algernon".

I'll give you a brief overview: Flowers for Algernon is about a boy who is very eager to learn but has mental disabilities that impair him from even being able to form the simplest sentences. However, a surgeon came along who had an idea about performing some complicated neurosurgery that will get rid of these disabilities. They try the surgery on the narrator, and he indeed becomes smart -- one indication of that is that he reads "Paradife Loft" for fun (and yes I know a lot of you guys... let's just say didn't really like it). Eventually, he becomes so smart to the point that he passes the intelligence of the surgeons who did the surgery on him. Before his surgery, though, the surgeons tried the same thing with a lab rat named Algernon. The narrator finds that Algernon's mental ability to deteriorate over time, and he finds that the increase in intelligence from the surgery is directly proportional to the time elapsed: in other words, if the surgery makes you super smart, you will deteriorate in a short amount of time, and vice versa. Soon after, Algernon dies, and the narrator puts flowers on the grave. Hence the title.

Now, as the Narrator's intelligence starts to fade away, his language changes. In the beginning, his words are garbled, but after the surgery his sentences become increasingly complex... but then his sentences start to degrade near the end of the book. It is specifically this part of the book that Sander's "Jon" reminds me of: when Charlie's (the narrator of "Flowers for Algernon") language starts to fade, we see traces of him trying to use complex language, but ultimately failing. Similar to Jon's narration, we get the jist of what Charlie's trying to say, but it is obviously wrong, such as when he says "trumpet cart".

Another similarity to the two characters is that they both have had some kind of neurological modification - this seems self explanatory, but just to be clear (for those of you who forgot to read "Jon"), Charlie got a brain surgery and Jon got a metal shaft stuck into his neck that stored advertisements (I still don't understand why... I mean I guess its a utopia so I can't judge?). Again, what really stood out to me the most was the language, which is arguably the most fascinating part of both stories. The fact that both characters had some obscure memory of what these idioms are supposed to be like but can't totally execute them properly just makes me link together so strongly. And finally, both stories ended up pretty depressing for me, which I'm pretty used to by now considering all the books we've read this semester...

As for some overarching theme that many blog posts have... to be honest I really don't have any: this is just an observation that I made with a book I've read previously (and is arguably my favorite book). If you guys don't feel relatable to my feelings in this post... I understand -- after all, we are not required to read "Flowers for Algernon", though maybe it should be put into the 20th century Novel course *hint hint*.

Friday, November 20, 2015

Products of the Environment

Now, I'm not trying to objectify any people by using the word "products" in the title. However, I do feel that throughout all of Diaz's stories, he shows us how our morals and life styles are massively influenced by our environment. I feel like he did especially well in a couple of his stories, namely "Aurora", "Drown", and "Boyfriend".

A couple days ago in class when we were talking about the narrator's relationship with Aurora, we touched upon the topic of love. Many of us didn't see their relationship as somehow "fated" or "romantic" in any way; in fact, most of us sided with Cut's point of view, that Lucero needs to "get the fuck out of there". We stated that Aurora seemingly got more out of the relationship, stealing his money then running off, not caring to hide the evidence. She uses Lucero as her protector from the police when she goes out, arguably as a "meat shield". However, we must consider that we are in an environment that is completely different from their's. While we live on (or near) an intellectual campus with houses, Lucero and Aurora are running from abandoned basement to basement, never having a permanent den to stay in. They (Lucero and Cut at least) are drug dealers, and I can say pretty confident that at least most of us don't know anything about that life. They break into offices and utility rooms to find a space to store their goods. They are without waste systems, and throw their crap into drain holes. While many would see these people as low lives and nasty, I believe that inherently these people aren't nasty at all, but are just products of a nasty environment. It's not like they like the way they live; hell, I'm sure they'd be willing to take on a stable job and raise a stable family -- Aurora even says that herself. Can we honestly say that we would have the same morals as of right now if we were put into the same situation?

I felt that the story "Drown" also shows the impact of one's environment on us greatly, though it is based on the internal conflicts between two ex-best-friends with opposite takes on their way of life. We see that the narrator, whose name isn't explicitly given, struggles to get by since his father had left him and his mother. Therefore, he and his best friend Beto had resorted to stealing, even getting busted together. After the day's over, they would go down to the communal pool to cool off; needless to say, it probably smells like piss with so many kids in there with no one to clean it. The narrator's mom still believes that his father is coming back to get them to America, but the narrator knows that's not happening, and tries to get his mother to let go. He uses a toothbrush to clean his shoes. Reading this, I want to say I feel his pain, but truly, I don't; I can't imagine what it would be like to live there.

Though none of you guys have read "Boyfriend" unless it's on your own initiative, I feel compelled to talk about it in my blog post. First off, it's a really short story, less than 10 pages long, and y'all should definitely read it -- it's worth. Secondly, I'd like to actually talk about the story. It starts out with the narrator talking about how weed screws people over and its effects on him. Next he starts talking about how he's seeing a couple try to do the do, and how the boyfriend would cheat on his girlfriend when the girlfriend was in jail. They would have arguments that would end up having at least one of the partners to burst into tears. While being very moved myself, the narrator states that he doesn't feel a thing -- he is dumb from these kind of feelings, having had these experiences himself with his past girlfriends, none of which worked out in the end. Here's the catch though: in the middle of the story, he reveals what he really wants in a girlfriend. No, it's not about having a nice ass, and no it's not about how long they can "do the jig". He states that he was jealous of the couple he is observing not because they have better of those qualities stated above, but how much Spanish they speak to each other. We then learn that the narrator's past girlfriends didn't really speak Spanish. It is also revealed that his girlfriend who was closest to being able to communicate with him in Spanish told him that she only dated him because he looked like some Sicilian man she'd known, and immediately broke up with her. Throughout the whole book, the narrator brings up his most recent girlfriend Loretta and how he misses her so much, and how he would have to block out another girl in his life, ultimately creating another barrier with being able to feel emotions. Though these observations, I found that the narrator wants a girl who he can communicate with, appreciates who HE is and not about who he LOOKS like, and obviously is looking for a with real love, nothing superficial. Isn't this also what we want. Maybe inherently we are more alike than we are different, but it is the environment that leads up to totally different lives.

Friday, October 30, 2015

Opposites?

After doing the readings for Monday, which were "Go Like This" and "How to Talk to your Mother (Notes)", I initially thought of them as almost opposite stories both in time and to some extent writing style.

Here's the most obvious one to get it out of the way: "Go Like This" presents a tale in a "correct/standard" way, with time moving forward. "How to Talk to your Mother" is in the exact opposite order. I feel that if either story flipped their chronology around, that is to say if Liz narrated in reverse chronological order and Ginnie narrated the story in chronological order, the stories would be much more lame to be frank. First of all, it's impossible for Liz to narrate in reverse because she'd be dead, and dead people can't narrate. Even if its a story about something like her life flashing before her eyes, I feel the story would 1. be pretty cliche, like the type of stuff you see in second rated movies, and 2. would make little sense, as when your life flashes before your eyes you (supposedly) see the whole course of your life, not just the small details a couple of months before you die. To add onto that, we would also loose a lot of the detail and feelings given off such as when she is talking to her friends about suicide, trying to get their support, her explanation to Blaine about her suicide, as well as her thoughts right before she died. We would also loose a certain sense of honesty from the author, as right now the format seems more like a journal that Liz would pour her thoughts into, and even see her feelings in the moment (like when she tells Elliot "Hey, baby, I'm not dead yet; I'm writing. . ."). As for "How to Talk to your Mother", I feel that making the story flow in reverse chronological order gives it sort of a spin. First of all, if I read it chronological order, then we'd be starting from when she was born, then to her toddler years, and I'd think that that would be quite boring. However, starting out with her murmuring to a fridge makes you think "what the hell happened to this girl" and makes your read on, and as you read further you find out more and more about the things that lead to her going crazy.

Another difference is the time period scope. Like I mentioned above, Liz's story happens over a course of a couple of months, and only talks about certain days in detail, while Ginnie's tales cover the range of 43 years, and her descriptions are very general, summing up whole years in a few sentences. Again, I feel that these narrations worked for their perspective stories: if the styles were switched, the stories would make no sense. For example, the whole point of Liz's narration is to justify her suicide, putting her judgement on paper to further secure her resolve. If we get the whole scope of her life, we would get a lot of irrelevant information as well as little information for the actual point of the story (like I mentioned previously), which is her going through with her suicide. Like so, if we were only to get a short segment of Ginnie's life, we wouldn't see the process (backwards) of how she became from a child who gives her dolls names, to a teenager who can't appreciate her father's love, to a woman who has gone through so many abortions or births (we never quite get to know).

I feel that both of these stories were very well written and unique in their style It would be hard to create another story with similar formats, especially the one in reverse chronological order -- though now I feel like I must mention that for our short stories I was lucky enough to peer edit a story that was in this reverse chronological order (which worked very nicely).

Friday, October 16, 2015

How to write a good short story

By the way the title is just a play on one of the names of the short stories we've read so far. I am in no position to tell you how to write a good short story, as I first need to get my crap together.

Now that we have that out of the way, here comes the real part of my blogpost: so far, all of the short stories we've read so far gives us something to think about after we've read it: for O'Brien, it's about the morality of war; for Hemingway, it's about relationship dynamics between man and wife; for Salinger, it's about social interactions in general; and finally, for Baldwin, it's about racism and how it affects people.

The way each of these authors goes about doing it is different though. All of them do only give a small snapshot of a person's life or a specific event. Some stories give you a satisfying ending, but leaves you thinking about the events that occurred within the story, such as "The Rockpile"; in there, we see the dynamics between Johnnie and Gabriel, and how Gabriel favors Roy a lot more than Johnnie. Others put a twist ending on them, leaving you to speculate why that certain event happened like that; we can see this in many of Salinger's stories - I mean almost all of them, like how in "A Perfect day for Bananafish", Seymour shot himself in the head or how in "The Laughing Man" the laughing man decided to kill himself, leaving the Comanches to walk home in fear. Even others just don't give you a satisfying ending, leaving you with a "what the hell" mentality and then try to understand why the author made it that way. This was typical of Hemingway, such as in "A very Short Story", the ending tells us the narrator got an STD. Another thing that made me keep on reading the stories was that they seemed so real to me. Maybe that was why Mr. Mitchell had us write anecdotes, which is something truthful that did happen to us, and use that truth to flesh out a story that will also seem truthful?

Anyhow, those are just some observations I've made. I would tell a lot more, but I've forgotten a lot of things that I wanted to say... I really regret not writing my ideas down. Look forward to the comments section, as I will very likely be posting followups when my brain is in better shape... but leave in the comments below of how you think a successful short story should include!

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Confusion?

Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes has a lot of ambiguity in it, like many other Salinger stories such as the Laughing Man, Teddy, A Perfect Day for Bananafish, and really all the stories in the collection Nine Stories. In class, one of the most debated question in this story is on the relationship between Joanie and Lee. At first, I was a supporter that Joanie wasn't having any sort of affair with Lee. For most of the period, I defended that point of view; I would find a counter argument to any opposing theories, such as:

- The argument about Lee's and Joanie's relief when they convinced Arthur that Lee's not with her. While many people argued that their relief showed that they were having an abnormal relationship, I argued that they just didn't want Arthur to misunderstand them.

- The argument of where Lee didn't want Arthur to come to his house/apartment to have a drink; again the mainstream theory was different from mine, implying that Arthur is having a sexual relationship with Joanie and doesn't want him to find out. I argued, however, that Lee is trying to hide Joanie from Arthur, which makes sense because Arthur is pretty darn drunk.

- The argument that Joanie seems to be really close to Lee, especially in the scene where they are talking on the phone and Joanie puts her ear up to the phone too; I argued that she was just interested in hearing what her drunk husband would say about her when he's drunk.

- That argument that Lee defends Joanie when Arthur talks crap about her, and that might indicate that he has feelings for her; I said it was very possible that Lee just doesn't want to get involved between their problems and just wants to stay neutral, not taking sides (because if he agrees with Arthur that Joanie is a slut then he would be taking his side, pissing off Joanie who at the time is right next to him).

Near the end of class, either Elissa or Mr. Mitchell brought up how Joanie said, "God! I feel like an absolute dog!" No matter what I tried to think up, I couldn't find a reasonable explanation that could refute the idea that Joanie and Lee had a sexual relationship - the only reason she would call herself a "dog" is if she had a extramarital relationship with someone. For a couple of days after that class period I left the "innocent faction" and became a part of the "slept-with-Lee Faction". It was only a couple hours ago that I came up with the simple (but somewhat far-fetched) idea that maybe Joanie had a sexual relationship with someone that wasn't Arthur nor Lee, and she came to hide at Lee's house after the party in order to avoid Arthur, and that Lee was angry at himself not because he had a sexual relationship with Joanie, but that he was feeling guilty for not telling Lee what Joanie did and to some extend help her cheat on him. I guess I separated from both of these factions and joined my own, the "Lee's-fine-but-Joanie's-not faction".

Another question brought up in class is how close Arthur and Lee are. Even though we have moved onto a different book, this question's still stuck in my head because there are so many possibilities. As of right now, I believe that they are best friends who also work together, as seen by the court case with a person named young and how Arthur called him when he was drunk (and spewed all his personal crap that only his best friend should know). However, there are a lot more clues that I didn't take into consideration... what do you guys think about their relationship?

Friday, September 18, 2015

Hemingway, Salinger, and O'Brien

It's impossible to declare one piece of fiction is better than the other - people have different preferences in the way each authors write. I think it is fair to try to discriminate styles of each other though.

To start, both Salinger and O'Brien's work are based on Hemingway's stories, or are at least fond of his writings. However, they have clear distinctions in style. Although all of these stories have lots of so called "undertones"*, Hemingway does it in the most plain way so to speak. He doesn't include many adjectives and rarely any adverbs, most of his sentences being short and in a way factual, describing an action that is going on. Sometimes his style may even seem redundant, boring some readers (such as me the first time I read it - also probably why I did rather poorly on the quizzes.. meh). However, Mr. Mitchell and the blogs people have posted has enlightened me, explaining to me how Hemingway implies situations and feelings from dialogues and actions (such as in "Indian Camp" where Nick's father insists on bringing him to the camp and teaching him certain terms and practices that Nick tries to brush off all too quickly), actions and depictions of women to create social commentary (such as "Cat in the Rain" and how the prime descriptors of the women is "wife" and "girl"),  not to mention the different interpretations one can make from those actions (a prominent example is again in "Indian Camp", where Nick's father tells uncle George to "pull back that quilt . . . I'd rather not touch it" - this can be seen as Nick's father just not wanting to get his sterile hands dirty or just thinks that things Indians touch/use are nasty). His style of writing is like giving us a sketchy framework of a painting  and having us fill it in, and one can expect that people's pictures will be different from other people's. Even so, I must admit that I still prefer other short story authors, but at least I respect him.

As for Tim O'Brien, I really don't have that much to say - my previous post should give you a sense of my amazement in his variety style that is also captivating. He makes me feel as if his "bros" on the battlefield are also my "bros", everyone having their own quirks and practices. Maybe it's because his writing is closer to our generation than Hemingway's, but it feels more relatable, even though I've never experienced war before. I get put into each character's minds even when he doens't specifically describes a scene from their point of view (in fact rarely - he usually does 3rd person, like Hemingway), and the story kinda flows well and not as choppy as Hemingway's, making you feel uneasy if you try to put down the book in the middle of a story.

However, if I want to say who has the best ability to catch my attention and have me stick to the book, that would be Salinger. His style of writing is a lot like Hemingway's in that they both use short, direct sentences, but Salinger has less of them and emphasizes dialogue a lot. Like Mr. Mitchell expressed today, the dialogue between Muriel and her mother shows their relationship and personalities, even though Salinger never directly says so. For example, the way they cut each other off mid-sentence shows how , and because we are seeing this phone call though Muriel's point of view (again, this is not totally true because we are seeing this through third person, but the fact that Muriel's actions are emphasized/we-actually-see-them puts us in her position, aka "mom quit nagging and shut up"). This one was quite evident for me, but someone (Evan or Mr. Mitchell?) pointed out that Muriel's mother's comment about the psychiatrist Muriel had for Seymour is a rather disapproving one, reminding of one the sort of "New Yorker seen-it-all" sort of attitude, and that the psychiatrist Muriel's mother found is actually reliable, as it allowed her to tell Muriel rather confidently that Seymour will break down and go crazy. His writing is really magnetic, and the dialogue kind of puts you in the situation and you're engaged in their conversation. Not only that, the ending made me reread parts of the story (something I don't do very often) to get a sense of why Seymour shot himself in the head. The ending also reflect's Hemingway's style of short, to the point sentences in the form of "He did that. And that. And that, And... etc.". We can see the mother's protectiveness in her voice, as she seems constantly provoked by the littlest things, such as a sun burn or a blue coat, while Muriel just wants her mom to stop nagging so much (see I wouldn't have used the word "nagging" if Salinger gave us a view from the mother, and instead would probably use the word "deep care" or "genuinely looking out for" or something along those lines).

Again, this is just me and my point of view, and I'm sure there are other opinions out there that I most definitely respect.

*Maybe the phrase "under-lying meanings" fits better here? I'm not quite sure.

Monday, August 31, 2015

Curvy Mirrors - the multi-faced writer Tim O'Brien

The more I read Tim O'Brien's book "The Things They Carried", the more I am reminded of our summer reading "Fire and Forget". Was it because they both have an eccentricity on war? Was it because they were both an anthology of short stories? Although those observations are both true, I soon realized it wasn't just those things: it was the variety of style. It occurred to me that every short story I've read in Tim O'Brien's collection of short stories had a different style of writing - some in first person, others in third; some told stories, others commented on those stories. Like a face in various distinct curvy mirrors, his style of writing would take different shapes: in one story he would talk about a certain person's war experience, the next he would scope out into a different time and area to explain the previous story. This happens for many pairs of stories, such as "Speaking of Courage" and "Notes" - he would talk about Norman Bowker's personal experience in that time and place that it happened in the first story, then talk about Norman Bowker's life post-war and his connection to it. This also happens between the stories "The Things They Carried" and "Love" - he would talk about Jimmy Cross and his company's experience in the war, again at that time and place, in the first story, then would scope out and talk about the conversation Jimmy Cross had with her friend, years after and in the U.S. Notice how the first story was told in 3rd person, omniscient and the second was in first person, non-omniscient.

I was amazed by this; the variety in the book "Fire and Forget" is completely understandable, as it was written from veterans from all over the country; but for one author to have that many styles, and talk in that many different personalities? If my prediction that every story will have a unique writing style, there would be 22 different styles - a diverse collection indeed.

This brings up different questions: what did O'Brien feel when writing these stories? How many are made up, and how many are reflecting events that happened to him? Or many happened to his friends? Then again this refers to the idea of Fabula and Sjuzet: who cares if it happened or not: the Fabula is already lost, and Sjuzet is the only thing that remains, and any form of Sjuzet is distorted in some kind of way. What is important is that O'Brien get's his point across, and in this case it is more of a feeling than a moral, the feeling of being in a soldier's shoes.

Although this post has little to do with war, I decided to take a break from such brutality and found out something very different about the author himself and thought I should share it with you guys.