Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Things They Carried

A story specifically about war is an interesting twist for this class.  So far, the books we’ve read have been relatively similar in themes and form – not to say I think that The Things They Carried is morally very different – but the war aspect of this book brings in a new dynamic to the story.  The effect war has on soldiers in irreparable, and I saw that come through very strongly in O’Brien’s writing.  Given the background of the narrator, I mostly struggled with taking his stories as complete or entirely truthful, even though the book is dedicated to a group of real, fallen soldiers. 

 

Directly in the text, the narrator states that stories from Vietnam are strange and hard to believe – “some improbably, some well beyond that” (89).  Also he states that in war, soldiers loose their “sense of definite…[their] sense of truth itself” (82).  Statements like these make me skeptical of events before and after them.  While I do believe that major events and deaths did happen, I am still unsure of how they are delivered to the reader.

 

Indirectly, the text is concerning too.  In the final chapter, the narrator talks about how stories help the dead “return to the world” (225).  I believe the he says this to convey that stories help celebrate the life the dead once had.  To me, it seems reasonable for the storyteller to fabricate and stray from truth in order to do so.  Therefore, I do not fully believe every event in this book.

 

I think it is important when reading to always consider whether or not the narrator is completely trustworthy.  In the book particularly, where the narrator is affected by war and the loss of friends, truth must be considered carefully.  I think O’Brien wrote the book in this manner to simultaneously show the effect war has on people as well as celebrate the lives of his fallen friends.     

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Women of Brewster Place

The Women of Brewster Place is a very emotional story collection.  Each story is filled with events that greatly characterize the struggle of an oppressed and impoverished people.  I cannot say that I saw Gloria Naylor’s book as uplifting or optimistic in anyway.  In fact, I saw the book as quite dark, and each time I thought the book would take a surprising turn for the better, the mood dropped again.

 

Starting right away with Mattie, the course of action in the book takes a nosedive.  Her pregnancy turns her away from her family, and even though she is take in by Eva Turner and fortunate enough to buy the house, her son ruins her chances of staying there by skipping bail.  The depressing material continues throughout the book with Etta’s misfortune with men, the death of Lucielia’s baby, Cora’s neglect for her children, and finally the rape of Lorraine.  The events in each of these stories all carry a common, morbid theme, one we’ve seen in so many other books this year, entrapment. 

 

Although each story was mostly depressing, Naylor throws in a few uplifting lines here and there.  At then end of Etta’s story, she excited to go see Mattie, who brings her comfort.  Also, at the end of Lucielia’s story, Naylor writes that “morning would come,” signifying hope for the days ahead.  Still, I hardly find these few lines to be hopeful in the midst of such dark material in the book overall.

 

Taking the moods and events from each story into consideration, I would consider this book a short story cycle.  All of the stories revolve around a common setting, Brewster Place, and each one seems to return to the same dark place it began.  Also, the book begins with “Dawn” and ends with “Dusk,” signifying the cycle of a day.  

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The House on Mango Street

I enjoy books that seem real – books that have real-life characters with real-life situations and The House on Mango Street does just that.  From cover to cover, I was easily able to relate to the characters in the story.  I attribute this mostly to the language Sandra Cisneros uses, simple and concise.  This language is not only a nice break from the elegant, over-descriptive writing we have observed, but also a clear way to send a message to readers. The most obvious theme I saw throughout the book was that of entrapment, and I saw it on two separate levels.

 

Esperanza clearly seems to feel trapped by the place she is forced to live during her childhood, and that shows through very well in the language of the stories.   The first level of entrapment is that of class.  In the beginning of the story, we see that Esperanza’s family is not of a lower class.  She immediately expresses her shame over the house they live in, and states that some day she would have her own house, one she “could point to” without being ashamed (5).  Also, early on in the story, we see a decline in the neighborhood’s overall class.  Cathy, a girl living on Mango Street with her family says she has to move away because “people like [Esperanza] keep moving in (13).  Throughout the story, symptoms of a low-class neighborhood continue to pop up with stories of bums asking for kisses from the girls and stories of children like Sally, who is abused by her father.  Ultimately, Esperanza wants to get out and “sleep…close to the stars” in a “house on a hill,” but she claims she will not forget the people of Mango Street.

 

The other level of entrapment I picked up on was that of childhood.  Esperanza seems to be in limbo of childhood and adulthood for most of the story.  In some stories she longs to do grown-up things such as where high-heels, put on make-up like Sally, and have a boy hold her like Sire holds his girlfriend; but in other stories, Esperanza seems reluctant to grow up.  In contradiction to her feelings about Sire and his girlfriend, she is upset when Sally leaves her to kiss the boys in the Monkey Garden.  Also, she seems to talk condescendingly about the girls that get married to early in the story.  These hints of anger and jealousy show conflicting views toward growing up.

 

To me, Mango Street seems to be a symbol of the entrapment Esperanza experiences.  On Mango Street, Esperanza will always feel weighted down, but when she finally leaves, she will be free of poverty and childhood ignorance.  Once she has done this, she can return as she says she will in the end.    

Friday, October 9, 2009

True Friendship

I have found few things in life as fragile and complicated as a relationship with another person. At times, friendship seems easier to loose than it is to gain, especially in the constantly changing atmosphere of college. For me, friendships fade in and out – gain and loose weight – constantly, but these variations are what make each friendship special and distinct form the others. The best example I can give of such a friendship is the one I have with my best friend, Cody. I have been close with Cody for years, and our relationship is quite colorful, but it did not immediately get that way. In fact, to form a friendship like the one I have with Cody, a fairly long process must occur; a process outlined well throughout the development of The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett. This collection of stories takes its form in the depiction of a small Maine fishing village, Dunnet Landing, as well as the relationship the narrator has with the place, and even Jewett describes that relationship to be “like becoming acquainted with a single person” (7). Through careful examination, we can see that this book, beginning to end, parallels the life a good friendship.

I am not sure what initially draws two people to be friends, but I do know that in order to become friends, people must find some trait appealing in one another. This trait can be one of an infinite number of things, but usually, at least for me, it is a common interest. In Cody’s case, we are both very interested in outdoor activities. Whether we are biking, swimming in the lake, or just playing a game of pick-up basketball with the guys, we are perfectly content with ourselves and each other. When Cody and I first met, this common trait was what initially brought us together – introduced us. For the narrator in Jewett’s story, a different trait draws her in, beauty. She finds the town of Dunnet Landing to be quite appealing in the way it looks during a “yachting cruise” several summers before the story takes place, and she feels compelled to return. Her attention is immediately drawn to the “quaintness of the village,” describing it as a “white-clapboarded little town” (7). The narrator finds these aspects of the town to be adorable, but aesthetic appeal can only go so far in a friendship. For the narrator to truly hold a relationship with Dunnet Landing, a more substantial bond is needed.

When people enter into a friendship, it is impossible for them to know one another’s past. As they spend time getting to know each other, the friends will slowly reveal their pasts, giving a knowledge that adds color to their relationship. When I started getting to know Cody, I did not think much of our differences, mainly because I did not notice any, but as we got closer, I began to see our main difference was rooted in our family histories; his, a country-based conservative family, and mine, a suburban-based liberal family. I did not hold anything I learned about his past against him. Instead, I used what I learned to add depth to our relationship. Throughout The Country of the Pointed Firs, the narrator gains bits of knowledge on Dunnet Landing’s past through talking with its townsfolk. The narrator hears stories of adventure in “Captain Littlepage,” as well as tales of mystery in “Poor Joanna.” These stories of the towns past help her not only to see how Dunnet Landing came to be what it is, but also to shape her view of the place in the future. This knowledge gives a strong base on which the relationship between the town and the narrator can grow.

While knowing a friend’s past is important, what really sculpts a friendship are the experiences the friends share. Going through situations together brings friends closer and creates a very strong bond. My most memorable experience with Cody was helping him out when his parents split. During the hardest time in his life, I tried everything I could to be there for Cody. I had him over as much as his mom would let him, and I talked to him about his parents whenever he wanted to talk. I cannot tell you if anything I had to say was of any help, but being apart of such an intimate aspect of Cody’s life solidified my feelings; we were the best of friends. In the case of the book, the narrators journey to see Mrs. Blackett as well as her journey to the Bowden family reunion are similar intimate moments. Finally being given the chance to participate in the traditional festivities of Dunnet Landing makes the narrator feel at one with the place. Much like my experience with Cody, being invited into such a private matter made her feel as welcome as family. Of course, experiences between friends do not always have to be on this same level of intimacy to be important. Any small event, like the narrator’s help in Mrs. Todd’s business, can strengthen a relationship. All experiences help to define friendship.

At the end of getting acquainted and creating deep bonds with one another, friends ultimately part ways. One could say that Cody and I have already parted ways. I have continued on to college and he remains working closer to home. Considering that “home” is only thirty minutes away, I still see him on a fairly regular basis, but the frequency of our visits is much lower now. He and I both have created good friendships elsewhere, and as a result, we are growing in different directions. I do not by any means think that our friendship is over – in fact, I do not believe that a good friendship ever ends – but I do think our paths are now quite different. The narrator in The Country of the Pointed Firs sailed away from Dunnet Landing to return to her old life where she will continue to grow separately. Likewise, Dunnet Landing will continue on, changing without the narrator’s presence, but both will take a little something of the other with them on their way. I feel the same with Cody; while we will definitely see each other again, we each will take something from the other in our individual journey through life.

With these observations at hand, we can easily see Sarah Orne Jewett’s The Country of the Pointed Firs resembles the life of a friendship. The friendship is not necessarily between the narrator and any person in particular, but between the narrator and the town of Dunnet Landing itself. The friendship develops with an initial appeal of the town, a reveal of the its past, a collection of new experiences in and around the landing, and finally, a parting from the place. I cannot say if the narrator will return to Dunnet Landing, but honestly it does not matter. Even if Cody and I never meet again, we will keep our friendship forever, as will the narrator keep her friendship with Dunnet Landing. Once a good relationship is made, it is everlasting – that is the beauty of true friendship.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

The Way to Rainy Mountain

The Way to Rainy Mountain has the most unique style I have ever encountered in literature. To me, this unique style was perfect for what N. Scott Momaday wanted to say. Because of his interesting relationship with the Kiowa people, Momaday needed a very specific form in order to tell the Kiowa story, and that is the form he used.

The use of three voices throughout this book worked perfectly to show the contrast between Kiowa America and white America as well as Momaday’s relationship with the two. The first voice, the mythical voice, beautifully painted the Kiowa mentality; however, I found it hard to believe whole-heartedly. As the voice came only from the Kiowas, particularly male Kiowas, I saw it as a bit one-sided. Next, the historical voice seemed to show how a white culture would view the ways of the Kiowa people, but much like the first voice, it wasn’t entirely fair. It showed only a view from the outside in – an observer’s opinion of a group of people. It came across dry and colorless at times, making it hard to follow. Finally, the voice of Momaday found a happy medium. Knowing a bit of the author’s background, the third sounded as expected: like a voice from the middle – the views of a man with a foot in each world. It took aspects of each voice before it and applied it to its own story, much like a boy who takes traits from each of his parents.

The organization of The Way to Rainy Mountain also works well to tell the Kiowa story. The three sections can easily be related to a journey or adventure with an exciting beginning, colorful middle, and dramatic end. “The Setting Out,” as its title suggests contains a lot of stories regarding the start of something. Most of the stories contain youth and Kiowa creation myths. “The Going On” depicts the Kiowa way of life, the traditions they held for so many years. This section touched on gender roles as well as what type of people the Kiowa were, a superior Native American force. Lastly, “The Closing In” brought closure to the journey of the Kiowa. The stories in this section hold themes of misfortune and reminiscence, and the section title itself hints that the legacy of the people is coming to an inevitable end.

I enjoyed the change of pace this book threw into our reading. Given the observations I have made, I would consider this short story sequence, but of course I’m open to persuasion.