travis: innocence and a hope for change

Dear Diary,

Today sure was an unusual day. 

A cracker came to our house late afternoon, lookin' all formal-like with his big ole briefcase and thick glasses. He walked in the door with a huge smile on his face, as if he just done chase a rat as big as a cat and beat it to a pulp beneath his feet (I am strictly forbidden to do that anymore). But Mama and Grandma and Aunt Beneatha and them all looked so tense, as if the rat they had been chasin' fly right outta their hands and underneath a building where they couldn't reach him no more. 

And, Daddy—well he was tryna say somethin' to the man, but I done noticed that he looked mighty nervous. He kept wiping his sleeve across his mouth and faltered in his speech. At one point, he grab me and say, "This is my son, and he makes the sixth generation our family in this country." Oh, gaallee! I sure must be something if Daddy say that to the white man so proudly! 

And then, Daddy said something even more strange. He said, "And we have decided to move into our house because my father—my father—he  earned it for us brick by brick. We don't want to make no trouble for nobody or fight no causes, and we will try to be good neighbors. And that's all we got to say about that. We don't want your money." And then the white man, he was jes' lookin' all flustered and whisking away his things in a flurry, parting with a warning, "I sure hope you people know what you're getting into."

That sorta struck something in me. I remember Daddy's strong voice, Grandmama's tear-streaked face, Mama with her head bowed, and Auntie with her head raised in pride. I mean, what exactly are we gettin' into? Why it such a big deal if we move into Clybourne Park? I never met none of them white boys before, but I know we could get along just fine. After all, Daddy say I am the sixth generation in this family. If Granddaddy and his ancestors weren't able to stand up shoulder to shoulder with a white man, then by gallee, I will be the first one in my family to do that. And when that day come, Mama and Daddy will say to me, "Yes, son. Ain't nobody out there that can tell you you ain't fit to walk this earth. Thrive, prosper, live alongside the others. You done make us proud."

Now that sounds like a lot more respectable goal to work for than to trade marbles or chase them rats down the streets. 

Yours truly,

Travis Younger

an allegory of youth

Anyone who has read The Diamond as Big as the Ritz would agree that Fitzgerald does an admirable job of manipulating rhetoric into creating a piece that has all the elements of a heartwarming “Once upon a time” tale: a castle situated on a supernatural diamond mountain, a magical bathtub, an evil villain, a beautiful princess and her Prince Charming, and even a moral-of-the-story that’s painfully true. What it lacks is the “happily ever after.” It’s quite ironic, really, that instead of rising from rags to riches, our wonderful Kismine and her beloved actually descend from the “floating fairy-land” into a pit of Hell. So maybe they aren’t so wonderful after all.

Although Kismine is deemed the “incarnation of physical perfection” itself, none can match the naivety of her mind. She reveals her foolishness when she claims, “I believe that girls ought to enjoy their youths in a wholesome way”—much like Daisy, who thinks girls are better off being “beautiful little fools.” Frankly, the fact that Kismine “never…read[s] anything” nor knows “any mathematics or chemistry” convinces me that she would better fit in with a herd of pink elephants rather than the human race. (At least I’m not saying she can only have water as a beverage.)

So what’s wrong with John T. Unger? Doesn’t he rescue, heroic and Moses-like, the damsels in distress? Shouldn’t he have been spared the torments of Hell? Unfortunately, our main character lacked the nobility and wisdom of Moses; he allowed himself to get caught up in the “warm enchantment” of luxury and began “measuring up the day against [a] radiantly imagined future.” Like Gatsby, his fantasizing about the “unattainable young dream” eventually results in a hard fall back to reality.

And so, although DBR was written decades ago, its message is very applicable even today. The shiny, gaudy opulence of the Washington estate is representative of the excessive, dreamy way in which we live youth. Like Unger, it is a time when most everyone experiences the flush of first love sitting atop their mountains of unrealistic aspirations, a time when one is first exposed to the “terrible and golden mystery” of life, a time that abruptly ends with “the shabby gift of disillusion.” 

nostalgic memories

The single biggest disadvantage of romanticizing nostalgic memories of the past is that it makes it easier for us to fantasize and ignore the problems of the present. When we put on our rose-colored glasses to peer into a different time, desperate for something that is fundamentally out of our reach, we cease to think about the consequences it may have on our present, perhaps harming our future as well.

Jay Gatsby is a prime example of this. The goal of his life is to recreate the sweet memories he shared with the Daisy Fay of the past. Her "bright ecstatic smile" (90) and "lovely" (13) face had captivated him as a young soldier—but she gave it all to another. Five years later, he stubbornly believes that the dim romance that was on the verge of blossoming between them still has a chance to bloom into the fragrant flower of true love.

With his eyes set on this target, Gatsby becomes blind to what he has made of his present life. He has reduced himself to a man with an unhealthy eagerness to climb the social ladder—as he forges “gonnegtion[s]” (75) with shady people—and a desperate greed for amassing wealth—as he becomes involved in organized crime. His emotional frame is out of sync with the passage of time. In fact, the knocking over of Nick's clock during his first reunion with Daisy is a clear symbol of the clumsiness of Gatsby's attempt to stop time and retrieve the past.

By glamorizing the sentimental memories of former times, Gatsby essentially allows them to dictate his very existence. He thrives on the wild hope that Daisy will one day return to him, and when he realizes that she has slipped "out of reach of his hand" (117), he can no longer survive. Similar to Roger Chillingworth of The Scarlet Letter, Gatsby perishes when his life’s purpose is defeated.

an unusual wish

One of the first characters we meet in The Great Gatsby is Daisy, wife of wealthy, fractious Tom Buchanan. It is interesting to note that many aspects of Daisy’s character actually reflect those of the idolized 1920s flapper: a pleasure-seeking woman full of thoughtless giddiness whose superficial cares revolve primarily around her popularity, self, and beauty.

Nick first describes Daisy’s “absurd, charming little laugh” and “low thrilling voice.” He also draws our attention to her face, “sad and lovely, with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth.” Although these sensual descriptions highlight Daisy’s singular beauty, her speech and actions reveal the immaturity and impetuousness of her inner nature. For instance, when Nick tells her (out of common courtesy) that everyone in Chicago misses her, she emphatically demands to return right away—no doubt to revel in the adoration of her devotees.

When Nick politely enquires about her little daughter, Daisy startles readers by replying, “I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” While revealing her belief that a girl can have more fun if she is beautiful and simplistic, Daisy's flapper-mom-like wish for her daughter is not so unusual when viewed in light of the fact that she is the product of an age that values women for their sexuality over their intelligence. Just as Daisy conforms to the social standard of American femininity in the 1920s in order to avoid her tension-filled life—such as her strained marriage and tangled love affair with Gatsby—so too does she hope for her daughter to be protected under a shield of lovely naivety.

The Value of Punctuation Usage in an Ever-Changing World

Claim Sentence: Although the debate over the flexibility of punctuation rules in an ever-changing world may seem trivial, it is in fact crucial in terms of today’s concern over decreasing literacy. Furthermore, fixed punctuation rules make for clarity and precision in one’s writing, lending ethos and expression to authors, from past and future alike.

Having set rules of punctuation is crucial to the English language as it makes for coherent, expressive writing and allows writers to demonstrate their intelligence and credibility. Additionally, there is the danger that in an ever-changing world, flexible punctuation rules may very well lead to “the downfall of literacy” (Source A). The primary benefit of adhering to the rules of punctuation is that it accords expression in one’s writing, much like pauses and changes in tone of voice when speaking. Elizabeth Austen of “On Punctuation” personifies certain punctuation marks by attributing a special characteristic to each, such as the “voluptuous uncertainty” of the question mark and the “come-hither wave” of the comma. These sensual ascriptions show how punctuation has the capability to transmit subtle connotations that words cannot convey.

More importantly, adherence to punctuation rules is vital for a piece’s coherence, as it allows for effective separation and linkage of ideas; without this, many literary masterpieces would be plagued with confusion. Now, critics would argue that Emily Dickinson’s unconventional use of “the sweet interrupting dash” (Source B) and irregular sprinkling of capitalization in her poem as well as Austen’s complete lack of punctuation in hers do not hinder one’s ability to understand their message; rather, they lend an artistic, personal touch. To this, Hitchings would reply that both of these pieces are poems, avenues of “Possibility” (Source C) where one is encouraged to be creative and where flexibility with punctuation rules is perhaps to be expected. However, in prose, he says that set rules make for “clear, effective, and consistent communication” (Source A). Poetry is meant to be multilayered with deep meanings open to interpretation, but if one insists on applying its unique rules to other pieces of literature, it would result in general confusion and even lack of credibility.

In “Notes on Punctuation,” author Lewis Thomas seems to side with Austen and Dickinson as he pokes fun at the rigid rules of punctuation and bends them in original, innovative ways to create a humorous effect. Being a physician and scientist, however, he would be expected to abide by those very rules in his medical research and lab reports. In fact, all other professionals such as teachers, doctors, lawyers, and engineers must conform to the rules if they want any credibility or trust. If they ventured to experiment with punctuation in their documents as Thomas does in Source D, they would be harming their own integrity as it would no longer be possible to write in a formal and professional manner. It would also leave room for dangerous misinterpretations with, in some cases, possibly life-threatening consequences.

 Furthermore, without a concrete set of rules for punctuation, literacy rates and general understanding of the English language would suffer. An older generation reading literature by younger people may not understand or misinterpret it based on the punctuation usage of their days; similarly, current readers will not be able to relate to previous literary masterpieces as they struggle to decode the strange symbols such as the “pilcrow” and “hedera” (Source A).

Consistency in punctuation rules is as important as stipulated traffic rules: that even one person does not realize that a red light means stop can be costly. Like traffic signals, punctuation marks direct the flow of your ruminations, creating order and preventing your thoughts from going in unintended directions. If everyone is not aware of the rules because of the fact that they are constantly changing, the result is an unsightly literary accident that would be difficult to reverse.

the beauty of language

Throughout the novel Black Boy, Richard Wright uses beautiful language to describe his journey from innocence to experience in the Jim Crow South. In Chapter 2 of the novel, Wright uses an anaphora to convey the childish pleasure and depth of emotion that nature evoked in him as a young boy. He starts off by saying, "There was the breathlessly anxious fun of chasing and catching flitting fireflies on drowsy summer nights" (45). Readers smile here at the beautiful simplicity of a child's fascination with fireflies, as it is a common experience we all can relate to. He continues further, saying, "There was the aura of limitless freedom distilled from the rolling sweep of tall green grass swaying and glinting in the wind and sun" (45). Vivid imagery allows one to picture the scene and wonder at how a child could make the connection between swaying fronds of grass and the notion of freedom. We ache at the realization that despite his tender age, even young Richard yearns for true freedom from his oppressive society. His use of the anaphora furnishes artistic effect to the passage and adds rhythm to his words, making it more pleasurable to read. By relating himself to nature in each repetition, Wright succeeds in inspiring readers to reflect upon their own relationship with the natural world around them; the ability to find pleasure in it being a proof of lightness of spirit and the inability a proof of a soul darkened with the weight of societal concerns.

slavery: its crippling legacy

In 1492, Christopher Columbus made the historic voyage to the Americas. His excursion heralded a new, two-way traffic between Europe and the Americas. Across the eastern and western halves of the world, a large-scale movement occurred—a major transfer of plants and animals, as well as people and diseases. Named after the legendary voyager, the Columbian Exchange produced lasting effects which still reverberate today. A chief component of this exchange was the slave trade. Although this brutal human commerce was outlawed over 150 years ago, the inherent racism that fueled this system can still be felt today. Freed slaves suffered much emotional and psychological damage, which they passed down through the generations. Their feelings gave rise to a lot of resentment, anger, and pain felt within the black community today. Though not forced to toil long hours under the hot sun and the brandishing whip of an overseer, blacks still suffer in other ways. For instance, the poor housing, lack of employment opportunities, and the inadequate health care and education that many blacks cope with today are due to the fact that they have had to play catch-up, as they had been denied certain opportunities that were always available to those of the white race. Moreover, the enslavement of blacks by people who considered them inferior greatly diminished their self-worth, causing them to view themselves in the same light of inferiority. This lack of self-esteem then results in self-destructive behavior—as well as a serious doubt of their complete acceptance as equal members of society. The rampant crime rate that is spiraling out of control in America’s inner-city neighborhoods, the drug abuse and single parent homes, and the high abortion rate in the black community have all led to the breakdown of the black American family. These present unfortunate conditions of many blacks are all part of the crippling legacy of the original institution of slavery, the haunting effects of which rebound to this day. 

                                                 

the essence of beauty

One of the things we discussed in class this past week was Emily Prager’s piece titled “Our Barbies, Ourselves.” While I agree that Barbie portrays a twisted ideal of women, I believe that she is also representative of a society that has become increasingly obsessed with external beauty. Unlike what the makers of Barbie would have us believe, our body does not define who we are. Inner beauty, the beauty of the soul, is what truly matters. It is an illumination of the heart that manifests itself in one’s strength of character and unwavering moral standards. Think about it. A person with a beautiful face may succeed in appealing to your peripheral sense of enjoyment for only so long, but a person with pleasing character will captivate your heart for a lifetime.

This idea brings to mind a poem by John Keats titled “La Belle Dame sans merci,” in which he describes the encounter between a knight and a mysterious elfin beauty. At first, the lady’s “long” hair, “light” step, and “wild” eyes enthrall him and he eagerly follows her to her “elfin grot.” Because the soldier is so caught up with her external beauty, he fails to realize that her enigmatic smile actually conceals a heart of stone. As a result, once the lady has successfully trapped him in her cave, she swiftly delivers the knight to his chilling end.

This is similar to what Prager suggests in the last line of her piece: Barbie has “trapped” us in the need to conform to others’ ideals of superficial beauty, such that we become oblivious to what really matters. In order to escape, we can embrace the freedom of rising above petty societal beauty standards and develop our character, for the nurturing of inner beauty is what makes us a true human being. 

motherhood

After reading Giovanni and Jacobs's pieces this past week, I thought about the role a mother's sacrifice and love play in the survival of her children. In Harry's case, Lily Potter threw herself in the way of Voldemort's curse--giving up her life to save her son. Jacobs, too, risked her life to ensure that her children would not be sold into slavery.

The bond between a mother and her child is phenomenal. A mother is the sole being who is willing to sacrifice everything to see her child thrive and prosper, without any expectation of returns. The discomfort a woman endures while carrying her child within her for months on end, the excruciating pangs of childbirth, and the sleepless nights she spends thereafter mark just the beginning of a mother's path of continual sacrifice. Such is the natural affinity between a mother and her child that she understands the needs of her child before he is even capable of expressing them; she is aware of his fears without being told.

Like researchers have now realized about mother's milk, there is no substitute for mother's love. No one can extract and bottle motherly compassion. The warmth of your mother's love has the power to melt away your worries; the radiance of her smile can brighten your otherwise gloomy day; her gentle words and comforting hugs make you feel like you can accomplish anything.

In essence, your mother is your sanctuary.

the end of the scarlet letter

I’ve stepped through a book portal and transported myself into The Scarlet Letter, back to Boston in the mid-1600s. I’m looking for a certain Hester Prynne. Maybe you’ve heard of her? She was apparently an evil sinner turned motherly angel. She passed on not too long ago, and I hear her tombstone has an eerie inscription that no one can seem to figure out. Ah, here it is! The epitaph reads, “On a field, sable, the letter A, gules” (259). Well, let’s decode the words first. Field refers to background, sable means black, and gules connotes a reddish tinge. So this literally says, “On a black background, the red letter A.” Looking at it from the Puritans’ viewpoint, the black background represents Hester’s sin-stained heart, with the glowing symbol of her adultery burned into it with the very fire of Hell. From Hester’s—and Hawthorne’s—perspective, the blackness indicates the Puritan society’s hypocrisy and judgmental attitude. The letter A would then symbolize Hester herself, its red glow serving as a reminder of all that she was able to overcome, and her success at turning her deed from a mark of shame and dishonor to one of dignity and pride. Make sense?

Now let’s zoom out, and take a look at the surroundings. It looks like Hester’s burial site is between the prison and King’s Chapel. Very interesting. The prison was actually the place where Hester was first humiliated, forced to reveal her sin before the entire town. It was here where her path of penance began, the starting point of a seven-year-long journey full of sorrow and loneliness. During this journey, however, Hester’s steadfastness and ability to stay true to herself changed her from society’s object of scorn to society’s refuge. Her presence by the prison door stands as a symbol of comfort, compassion, empathy, and hope to incoming prisoners. Her spirit smiles upon them and says, “Don’t despair! Embrace your identity, accept your mistakes, stay strong—and the world will come to respect you for it.” It might also turn to the influx of churchgoers standing at the door of the chapel, frown slightly, and call out, “O hypocritical people! Do not be deluded by your flawless beauty and unblemished clothing. Deep within, you all harbor a secret, a sin. Accept the fallibility of human nature; you are not perfect.”

And see here, Hester’s grave is next to Dimmesdale’s, her lover. But it’s not quite next to—they’ve left considerable space between the two, “as if the dust of the two sleepers had no right to mingle” (258). Perhaps Dimmesdale was right in questioning whether he and Hester would be joined in the afterlife. But, you see, although they’re buried a few feet apart, they do share the same tombstone. In life, they were constantly separated, but in death, they lie under the same scarlet letter. And perhaps, by burying Hester next to Dimmesdale, the community is implying that they have moved on, and in many ways, forgiven them for their sin. They, too, agree that the legend of their love lives on. 

time heals all wounds. or does it?

It is often hoped that with time, hurt and pain will fade away. In Dimmesdale’s case however, the passage of time brings with it a steady increase in his suffering. His inner state of continuous guilt eats through his soul, eventually manifesting in his exterior. Rabid feelings snap at the periphery of his remorse, and—on the verge of clamping their poisonous jaws over him—threaten to contaminate him with insanity. He grows “emaciated” and his “rich and sweet” voice begins to flicker with “a certain melancholy prophecy of decay” (117). Disguised as a physical illness, Dimmesdale’s spiritual wound ultimately draws the attention of people around him. At the same time, Fate deposits Roger Chillingworth into Dimmesdale’s personal circle, reflecting the community’s hope that his brilliant medical skills can somehow cure him. The effects of Chillingworth’s therapeutic potions, however, are simultaneously reversed by his constant probing of Dimmesdale’s conscience. Chillingworth’s evil presence and malignant intentions only irritate the tender wound, hindering any chance it has of healing.

A change in Dimmesdale’s health seems to take place in Chapter 18, when Hester suggests an escape plan for the two of them. “A glow of strange enjoyment” (198) illuminates his visage, and he seems to suddenly become invigorated and enlivened with energy. However, this is illusory as seen in the succeeding chapters of the story. Satanic urges plague him as he heads homeward, revealing his increased mental imbalance. He is slowly but surely headed towards the abyss of lunacy.

Whoever said time heals all wounds? For Dimmesdale, it only gets worse.

sin

In class this past week, we have been discussing the themes of sin and morality. It is evident that the modern-day attitude towards Hester’s deed stands in stark contrast to the reaction of the people of the past. This idea made me think, and I realized that over time, the definition of sin has changed. Sin is connected to one’s sense of modesty and morality. When either of the two shifts, so does one’s perception of sin.

I thought back to the American history class I took during my freshman year of high school, during which I had a chance to observe the gradual shift in American values—particularly regarding the concept of women and modesty. In the olden days, women typically wore confining corsets, long dresses over layers of starched petticoats—even their long hair was covered with bonnets. Their proper place was thought to be within the home, far removed from the public sphere. With this prevalence in modesty, interactions between non related males and females were limited. 

These values fluctuated when Amelia Bloomer of the 1800s came along and called for women’s dress reform. She was a strong advocate of the “bloomer” costume, which consisted of a loose top and a skirt that stopped at the knee, with a pair of pants underneath. Bloomer is reported to have said, “As soon as it became known that I was wearing the new dress, letters came pouring in upon me by the hundreds from women all over the country making inquiries about the dress and asking for patterns—showing how ready and anxious women were to throw off the burden of long, heavy skirts.” 

As women began to experience more freedom with what they wore, they began taking more social liberties as well. Ideals of modesty waned, causing moral codes to relax. Women who would once have never dreamed of interacting with a man in an unsupervised setting now thought it perfectly acceptable to even live alone with him despite being unmarried. Society’s perception of sin changed.

What was once considered a scandalous and horrific deed has now been reduced to a woman’s choice of what she wants to do with her body. 

stream of transcendentalism

the trees outside are so beautiful really the shimmering emeralds dance, doesn’t it look like a ballerina? their graceful movements! in the breeze creating patterns of shadows on the ground and the trunk strong and majestic. be strong, resilient, as the roots reach far and deep into the ground oh! mustn’t i have strong roots? none can uproot me, my faith my strength. the branches a thrilling playground for squirrels, chipmunks and a perch for birds. it is the tree which lends its shade to the tired and—goodness soccer practice yesterday was brutal—its sweet fruits to the hungry. can i be of benefit to others? as fall approaches the emeralds erupt into fiery beauty ruby, citrine, spessartite garnet remember what romeo said “o, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! it seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an ethiop’s ear; beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!” as with the first snowflakes they begin to droop and as the cycle is renewed again, the tree blossoms forth with life and allure and joy. it didn’t give up and though my trials in life weigh me down bleak as a snowstorm of worries. i endure. drawing power from the firmness of my roots, through the trunk sturdy with love and support and family arching through my branches, blossoming with service and shade for the world around me 

on truth and fiction

Verisimilitude. In the literary world, it is a term that describes the blending of truth and fiction—the semblance of reality in a work of fancy.

An example of this fine relationship is The Things They Carried. Tim O’Brien’s vivid descriptions of the soldiers, and the physical and emotional burdens they humped through war-ravaged Vietnam, are so profound that we cannot help but think that all of it is real, that the soldiers were real people with real experiences. Although the letters on the cover, A Work of Fiction, jump out at us, we cannot quite convince ourselves that what we are reading is simply a figment of imagination.

Why is this so?

It has to do with the connection between truth and fiction. As Aristotle insisted in his Poetics, literature should reflect nature. It is natural for one to be able to judge truth and fiction based on perspective. When fiction produces real emotions within us or leads us to discover a reality about ourselves or the world around us, it is truth. When truth does not produce real emotions within us or even when it simply doesn't feel true, it is fiction. When truth and fiction are so closely related, “it’s difficult to separate what happened from what seemed to happen” (O’Brien 67).

Do you agree?