Today is Wednesday, so today is the book club meeting!
Meeting Wednesday, June 15th from 4-6ish in room CC3345. We will do the book vote around 5:30 pm.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Diverse Characters, Unique Impressions
Hello--
I would like to write the blog post in a way regarding the prompt, as that it is an interesting prompt, but at the same time I found a lot of little interesting bits of the book that I wanted to mention in general. I completed Dorothy Loves Maleman but no further, so I may be a bit behind.
So far I am enjoying the book, although I had procrastinated reading it for a long time. I liked the story, but I noted that it deserved my full attention, because it contained far more information in some ways than our other books. So I didn’t start for a long time, because I wanted to properly absorb the individual stories. What I like most about the book so far is that every single story is very unique, like each person’s personalities. Each has a completely different tone and emotion. I felt in some of the stories there was a sense of uncertainty as the reader; should I be offended? What is this other character’s intentions? And with this, it felt realistic, because the main character was reacting in the same way. This was most prominent in the story “A Shadow Table”, with the sweet shoppe Charlotte. When she begins to be mercilessly harassed by Pearl, you are kind of reeling with the suddenness of it, and trying to take in where in the world it came from. All of a sudden she’s flinging her dessert and so on. The author seems to take advantage of confusion to an extent. For instance, ‘the dancing priest’ outside flailing on the water, for six days in a row. I’m debating whether or not it was real, but I had the impression that the priest was really out there bothering her, trying to get her to move on. Or perhaps not.
The most unnerving story has to be Dorothy Loves Maleman, in which case you are not really sure whose side to take. The whole story was mildly horrifying, and I felt large empathy toward Dorothy. On the other hand, there were hints at her more abnormal actions, like swallowing the locket and not knowing what sex is at nearly 40. When Dorothy was recounting her tale, the elevator scene confused me, due to the wording. Her sister and Frank were romancing in the elevator, but did they actually end up having sex in the department store elevator? It seemed so. Which seemed rather bizarre. Edna seemed obliviously cruel to Dorothy.
Regarding the prompt, the artifacts from the past really make the story more of a reality. Without them, the stories are hardly something of the past; they could take place in any dimension at any time. Adding in all of the words, phrases, and objects of the time periods makes it believable and gives the reader an idea of what kind of life the character lived. I found it very impressive how well they were integrated in, and how much there was in the language and on every page.
I would like to write the blog post in a way regarding the prompt, as that it is an interesting prompt, but at the same time I found a lot of little interesting bits of the book that I wanted to mention in general. I completed Dorothy Loves Maleman but no further, so I may be a bit behind.
So far I am enjoying the book, although I had procrastinated reading it for a long time. I liked the story, but I noted that it deserved my full attention, because it contained far more information in some ways than our other books. So I didn’t start for a long time, because I wanted to properly absorb the individual stories. What I like most about the book so far is that every single story is very unique, like each person’s personalities. Each has a completely different tone and emotion. I felt in some of the stories there was a sense of uncertainty as the reader; should I be offended? What is this other character’s intentions? And with this, it felt realistic, because the main character was reacting in the same way. This was most prominent in the story “A Shadow Table”, with the sweet shoppe Charlotte. When she begins to be mercilessly harassed by Pearl, you are kind of reeling with the suddenness of it, and trying to take in where in the world it came from. All of a sudden she’s flinging her dessert and so on. The author seems to take advantage of confusion to an extent. For instance, ‘the dancing priest’ outside flailing on the water, for six days in a row. I’m debating whether or not it was real, but I had the impression that the priest was really out there bothering her, trying to get her to move on. Or perhaps not.
The most unnerving story has to be Dorothy Loves Maleman, in which case you are not really sure whose side to take. The whole story was mildly horrifying, and I felt large empathy toward Dorothy. On the other hand, there were hints at her more abnormal actions, like swallowing the locket and not knowing what sex is at nearly 40. When Dorothy was recounting her tale, the elevator scene confused me, due to the wording. Her sister and Frank were romancing in the elevator, but did they actually end up having sex in the department store elevator? It seemed so. Which seemed rather bizarre. Edna seemed obliviously cruel to Dorothy.
Regarding the prompt, the artifacts from the past really make the story more of a reality. Without them, the stories are hardly something of the past; they could take place in any dimension at any time. Adding in all of the words, phrases, and objects of the time periods makes it believable and gives the reader an idea of what kind of life the character lived. I found it very impressive how well they were integrated in, and how much there was in the language and on every page.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
great cry of frustration
Just wrote a long post, saw it save over and over. Now it does not show up.
Here's the cliff's note version:
Fulton presents her characters in chronological order in keeping with the given era.
Here's the cliff's note version:
Fulton presents her characters in chronological order in keeping with the given era.
- Mamie sees the emerging century as magic
- Peg is stuck in old ideas of right-relations for an aging woman...not in step with the move towards liberation/votes for women
- Charlotte generates sweets to please her man but diets to be Flapper thin, encounters Ray's Orientalist mother
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Stunned Silence - Week 5 starter post
Well, fellow readers, I got the viscerally disturbing final portion of the book around which to catalyze our discussion. I don't recall/see the intentional prompt so I'll just go with my HFS reaction. From about page 103 through to the end I felt it increasingly difficult to breathe.
Again, I was interested in Bint Majzoub and the fact that she is the truth teller, the only one who will speak of the bloody murder (granted, drunk on whiskey and guilt). I respect her forthrightness and the fact that she breaks so many stereotypes of "proper" female comportment even as she verbally re-enforces those cultural rules. She goes so far, fer gawd's sake, as to relish the rape of Hosna (104) as evidence of Wad Rayyes' virility. Tangled up in the complexity of her character I, the reader, stumble into the rape/murder tableau and reel at the violence.
Numb, I wander through the community's reaction (106-110) and our narrator's futile raging over Hosna's death. I dislike him for his impotence...he dislikes himself, although he seems to reach self-forgiveness by the end, choosing life...the first choice, says he, that he really makes in his life (139). I don't know if I care...Hosna's already dead, she could have been spared that brutal experience if our narrator had exhibited more spine earlier. I may even be angry at him for reaching self-forgiveness so quickly...but then, what good does it do to drown?
But even this pales beside the long litany of dead women...Mustafa Sa'eed's conquests. And conquest is the theme, isn't it? The colonized subject (Mustafa) venting his rage, loathing, self-hatred, desire for, rebellion against the colonizer (Western European culture/power/imperialism embodied in the literal bodies and being of white English women. He wants and seemingly needs to possess, become, ruin the colonizing culture. From books (112) to bodies (113 and forward) he must, obsessively, have and destroy all that power and beauty and arrogance.
My suspicions as reader grow as I observe the parade of women killing themselves in Mustafa's wake. But...well, who knows, maybe he really is so charming and they are so fragile in self that his abandonment leaves each of them bereft of the will to live. But then...Jean (132). Two points. First, what a provocative description of an abusive relationship...between individuals, between cultures...at the levels of emotional entanglement and of the merciless ferocity of laser-focused lust. Second, when I finally took a breath and struggled free from the seduction of eroticized violence...I mean, really, once the knife gets shoved in to the hilt even delusions of sexiness evaporate (136)...I too, like the narrator, chose life. I chose to realize that the whole suicide-by-lover theme was Mustafa's conceit. We never actually get to hear what Jean thinks/wants/needs except through Mustafa's narration. And he's the murderer...so, does one trust a murderer when he tells you the victim egged him on, wanted to be f*cked to death with his knife?
I guess that's it. The book forces complex engagement of violent and/or disturbing ideas...about sex, about social roles, about forgiveness, about redemption, about desire. About intercultural politics. So, I really appreciate the deep emotional impact and intellectual challenge. But I'm also glad to be stepping out of the river now...to be able to breathe again.
Again, I was interested in Bint Majzoub and the fact that she is the truth teller, the only one who will speak of the bloody murder (granted, drunk on whiskey and guilt). I respect her forthrightness and the fact that she breaks so many stereotypes of "proper" female comportment even as she verbally re-enforces those cultural rules. She goes so far, fer gawd's sake, as to relish the rape of Hosna (104) as evidence of Wad Rayyes' virility. Tangled up in the complexity of her character I, the reader, stumble into the rape/murder tableau and reel at the violence.
Numb, I wander through the community's reaction (106-110) and our narrator's futile raging over Hosna's death. I dislike him for his impotence...he dislikes himself, although he seems to reach self-forgiveness by the end, choosing life...the first choice, says he, that he really makes in his life (139). I don't know if I care...Hosna's already dead, she could have been spared that brutal experience if our narrator had exhibited more spine earlier. I may even be angry at him for reaching self-forgiveness so quickly...but then, what good does it do to drown?
But even this pales beside the long litany of dead women...Mustafa Sa'eed's conquests. And conquest is the theme, isn't it? The colonized subject (Mustafa) venting his rage, loathing, self-hatred, desire for, rebellion against the colonizer (Western European culture/power/imperialism embodied in the literal bodies and being of white English women. He wants and seemingly needs to possess, become, ruin the colonizing culture. From books (112) to bodies (113 and forward) he must, obsessively, have and destroy all that power and beauty and arrogance.
My suspicions as reader grow as I observe the parade of women killing themselves in Mustafa's wake. But...well, who knows, maybe he really is so charming and they are so fragile in self that his abandonment leaves each of them bereft of the will to live. But then...Jean (132). Two points. First, what a provocative description of an abusive relationship...between individuals, between cultures...at the levels of emotional entanglement and of the merciless ferocity of laser-focused lust. Second, when I finally took a breath and struggled free from the seduction of eroticized violence...I mean, really, once the knife gets shoved in to the hilt even delusions of sexiness evaporate (136)...I too, like the narrator, chose life. I chose to realize that the whole suicide-by-lover theme was Mustafa's conceit. We never actually get to hear what Jean thinks/wants/needs except through Mustafa's narration. And he's the murderer...so, does one trust a murderer when he tells you the victim egged him on, wanted to be f*cked to death with his knife?
I guess that's it. The book forces complex engagement of violent and/or disturbing ideas...about sex, about social roles, about forgiveness, about redemption, about desire. About intercultural politics. So, I really appreciate the deep emotional impact and intellectual challenge. But I'm also glad to be stepping out of the river now...to be able to breathe again.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Descriptions are more than images, they're memories, they're tangible...
Salih uses his incredible ability to paint a picture with words to bring the reader to a certain place in time; this artful approach entangles you into a web of lost memories found, feelings of comfort and sadness, and a tangible melancholy that permeates the trees, river, clay, and village. From the very beginning of the story the descriptions have been in-depth and at first, noticable. Once I was settled into these long tangents of painting I began to find that they were mixing with ideas, thoughts, dialouge, and memories.
I looked at the prompt, which were both from the reader's guide for this book supplied by NYRB Classics (I forgot to mention that earlier under the prompts, oops), and it intrigued me. I thought that I would attempt to dissect it a bit. When I started writing down my observations I realized that many of my notes throughout the book are regarding these depictions. I feel like these carefully inserted brushstrokes of vivid sketches give Salih a moment to remove the reader and himslef from the political, socio-economic assertions. These images are not colorful or inspiring to me. They are a simple part of a feeling or memory. To me, all of these different moments of detail are drawn in a muted hue of rouge or burnt umber. Everything feels like hardened clay and smells like a hot day by an overfull river. I can feel mud between my toes and sand in my nose, it tickles and is spicy.
I looked at the prompt, which were both from the reader's guide for this book supplied by NYRB Classics (I forgot to mention that earlier under the prompts, oops), and it intrigued me. I thought that I would attempt to dissect it a bit. When I started writing down my observations I realized that many of my notes throughout the book are regarding these depictions. I feel like these carefully inserted brushstrokes of vivid sketches give Salih a moment to remove the reader and himslef from the political, socio-economic assertions. These images are not colorful or inspiring to me. They are a simple part of a feeling or memory. To me, all of these different moments of detail are drawn in a muted hue of rouge or burnt umber. Everything feels like hardened clay and smells like a hot day by an overfull river. I can feel mud between my toes and sand in my nose, it tickles and is spicy.
"Entering by the door of the spacious courtyard, I looked to right and to left. Over there were dates spread out on straw matting to dry; over there onions and chillies; over there sacks of wheat and beans, some with mouths stitched up, others open. In a corner a goat eats barley and suckles her young. The fate of this house is bound up with that of the field: if the field waxers green so does it, if drought sweeps over the field it also sweeps over the house. I breathe in that smell peculiar to my grandfather's house, a discordant mixture of onions and chillies anddates and wheat and horse-beans and fenugreek, in addition to the aroma of the incense which is always floating up from the large earthenware censer" (60-61).
Racy
Not the formal post for this week, just a random thought: sure didn't expect this tale to be so bawdy, and of Bint Majzoub I am quite fond.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Migration / Distance
I'm not quite at the suggested point of the book yet, so I'm going to have to comment on another aspect of it.
I completely relate to the nameless narrator and the way Salih articulates his return to his childhood home adds to the distance I feel within this character. I am almost taken by his narration, as it hits close to home.
There is a vast distance between what probably influenced the narrator's travel from the Sudan to Europe and back again and whatever he feels that he brought internally back with him - if he has improved some way, being a better person with something to contribute to his people.
I love how even in the present most of his time during the reconnecting with the atmosphere of his village is caught in remembering how it was like for him as a child. Childhood days under a specific tree and such. The is a picturesque quality in trying to experience all the sensations of the past, to remember what it as like before it all fell apart. I dig how there is a sense of wonder about his time in Europe and how much it may have changed him, yet there doesn't seem to be anything "new" about him.
There is something to be said about being caught between a huge distance. Anything you come across becomes memorable and vital to your being. The narrator has placed himself back in an old comfort, but with the new textures that time has brought. Then he notices something out of place - Mustafa. What I find interesting here is that the initial fascination about him gives way to an almost subtle judgement on himself.
Mustafa was another person with a similar experience - being out in the world possibly in Europe, and returning with something more than what he left with. Yet I think what what Mustafa represents is something bigger than the narrator's memories of his home and people, something bigger than the sum of himself. There was just something more commanding or acceptable about Mustafa.
Ever come across someone like that? Without even knowing them personally, seeing this almost unshakable drive they have and how people or things just naturally gravitate towards them. There is no sadness or distance for them. Only apparent belonging and shared space.
I think this is why Mustafa is so intriguing as far as where I'm at with the book. Where he and the narrator may have had a similar journey back to the Sudan, the narrator feels like someone . . . nameless. Just trying to find connection, but only having to settle for memories. Mustafa seems to be all about the present and the future. No matter what is background or history might be, there is no sense of emptiness that I get from the narrator.
I completely relate to the nameless narrator and the way Salih articulates his return to his childhood home adds to the distance I feel within this character. I am almost taken by his narration, as it hits close to home.
There is a vast distance between what probably influenced the narrator's travel from the Sudan to Europe and back again and whatever he feels that he brought internally back with him - if he has improved some way, being a better person with something to contribute to his people.
I love how even in the present most of his time during the reconnecting with the atmosphere of his village is caught in remembering how it was like for him as a child. Childhood days under a specific tree and such. The is a picturesque quality in trying to experience all the sensations of the past, to remember what it as like before it all fell apart. I dig how there is a sense of wonder about his time in Europe and how much it may have changed him, yet there doesn't seem to be anything "new" about him.
There is something to be said about being caught between a huge distance. Anything you come across becomes memorable and vital to your being. The narrator has placed himself back in an old comfort, but with the new textures that time has brought. Then he notices something out of place - Mustafa. What I find interesting here is that the initial fascination about him gives way to an almost subtle judgement on himself.
Mustafa was another person with a similar experience - being out in the world possibly in Europe, and returning with something more than what he left with. Yet I think what what Mustafa represents is something bigger than the narrator's memories of his home and people, something bigger than the sum of himself. There was just something more commanding or acceptable about Mustafa.
Ever come across someone like that? Without even knowing them personally, seeing this almost unshakable drive they have and how people or things just naturally gravitate towards them. There is no sadness or distance for them. Only apparent belonging and shared space.
I think this is why Mustafa is so intriguing as far as where I'm at with the book. Where he and the narrator may have had a similar journey back to the Sudan, the narrator feels like someone . . . nameless. Just trying to find connection, but only having to settle for memories. Mustafa seems to be all about the present and the future. No matter what is background or history might be, there is no sense of emptiness that I get from the narrator.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Fabulous
Thank you Victoria for providing the maps and links out to related info...giving context is a great idea. Plus, quite fond of the wallpaper. Fitting choice. Most of all, I really appreciate the clear directions on what to do next. I literally roll home after eleven after a day that starts way too early and by that time I just need to pour my brain into a pre-constructed mold. So, nice mold! Now, many pages to read before tomorrow.
Aryana
Aryana
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Welcome to the New Blog Session
I hope that we have fruitful and enlightening discussions, just as we had for Woman.
Happy Reading,
Victoria~President
P.S.
Be sure to check out the links attached to Tayeb Salih's picture, the book cover, and also (no links here) the map of Sudan and it's different states, and then Africa to get us situated to the region.
Happy Reading,
Victoria~President
P.S.
Be sure to check out the links attached to Tayeb Salih's picture, the book cover, and also (no links here) the map of Sudan and it's different states, and then Africa to get us situated to the region.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Great First Meeting of the Spring Quarter!!
Thank you to everyone for showing up for the first "end book" meeting of the quarter. I can't wait to get started on Season of Migration to the North. It should definitely be a different feel than Woman and send us on a interesting journey through Sudan in the 60's. This will be our last stop in Northern Africa before we head to upstate New York, big difference. Alyssa is working hard on getting some fun facts together for us in regards to each defining decade for Nightingales as well as some religious information that pertains to the novel as well. Happy Reading and see you in the comments!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Week 2 - a deviation from the prompt - The Eyes
Wow. What a sad, affecting story so far. I think the author does an amazing job of making the reader feel Firdaus' potential, along with her sadness and isolation, along with the degradation and control she's experienced.
I want to deviate from the prompt (I think I remember hearing that that's okay), and talk about the part of the story that's struck me the most. I want to see what other people think of it.
When Iqbal finds Firdaus sitting alone in the courtyard (28-30), and Firdaus begins to cry, Iqbal asks her what is wrong, and Firdaus tells her "nothing" . . . then, looking into each other's eyes, Firdaus see's Iqbal's eyes light, shine, and go out, twice, before Iqbal begins to cry. As Firdaus continues to watch her, Iqbal's eyes become more distinct, the whites whiter, the blacks blacker.
I am wondering, what do people think was the source of Iqbal's tears? I have an opinion, which I can't support from the text. It's just a feeling. But I think that Iqbal, who, as a teacher, already knew something of Firdaus' potential, finally saw something in Firdaus' eyes of the loneliness and emptiness of her past and existence. I think that Iqbal was crying in sympathy for the Firdaus' hopeless future, realizing that the girl is missing too much of herself - not to mention her total lack of support - ever to really make it in the world.
I do think Firdaus' feels something of her own loneliness when she touches Iqbal's hand, and feels a "deep distant pleasure . . . like a part of [her] being which had been born with [her] . . . but had not grown . . . when [she] had grown" (30). How sad to think that this exchange with Iqbal, when Firdaus is a teenager, is the first time she's ever had a kind or loving touch (excepting maybe her jaunts with Mohammadain the fields, but that's a different kind of thing), and that Iqbal holding her hand in the courtyard is the closest she's ever had to anyone ever reaching out to her.
I still don't know what to make of the eyes.
Then, of course, we return to the theme of the eyes, when Iqbal saves Firdaus from having to accept her school certificate alone (33-34). All Firdaus sees around her, in the crowd, are harsh circles of black and white, until Iqbal's eyes stand out from the rest.
What do people think?
. . . . .
As a side note, it's the little things in this story, that stuck in Firdaus' mind as she's telling it, that also stuck in mine reading it. It really hit home just how isolated she'd become, when she tries to address the group of secondary school girls, and they comment on how she must be crazy talking to herself. They can't even tell she's trying to talk to them (sorry no citation).
. . . . .
BTW, I'm writing this before reading the other blogs, so my apologies if some of these things have already come up. I sometimes like to do things back-asswards.
I want to deviate from the prompt (I think I remember hearing that that's okay), and talk about the part of the story that's struck me the most. I want to see what other people think of it.
When Iqbal finds Firdaus sitting alone in the courtyard (28-30), and Firdaus begins to cry, Iqbal asks her what is wrong, and Firdaus tells her "nothing" . . . then, looking into each other's eyes, Firdaus see's Iqbal's eyes light, shine, and go out, twice, before Iqbal begins to cry. As Firdaus continues to watch her, Iqbal's eyes become more distinct, the whites whiter, the blacks blacker.
I am wondering, what do people think was the source of Iqbal's tears? I have an opinion, which I can't support from the text. It's just a feeling. But I think that Iqbal, who, as a teacher, already knew something of Firdaus' potential, finally saw something in Firdaus' eyes of the loneliness and emptiness of her past and existence. I think that Iqbal was crying in sympathy for the Firdaus' hopeless future, realizing that the girl is missing too much of herself - not to mention her total lack of support - ever to really make it in the world.
I do think Firdaus' feels something of her own loneliness when she touches Iqbal's hand, and feels a "deep distant pleasure . . . like a part of [her] being which had been born with [her] . . . but had not grown . . . when [she] had grown" (30). How sad to think that this exchange with Iqbal, when Firdaus is a teenager, is the first time she's ever had a kind or loving touch (excepting maybe her jaunts with Mohammadain the fields, but that's a different kind of thing), and that Iqbal holding her hand in the courtyard is the closest she's ever had to anyone ever reaching out to her.
I still don't know what to make of the eyes.
Then, of course, we return to the theme of the eyes, when Iqbal saves Firdaus from having to accept her school certificate alone (33-34). All Firdaus sees around her, in the crowd, are harsh circles of black and white, until Iqbal's eyes stand out from the rest.
What do people think?
. . . . .
As a side note, it's the little things in this story, that stuck in Firdaus' mind as she's telling it, that also stuck in mine reading it. It really hit home just how isolated she'd become, when she tries to address the group of secondary school girls, and they comment on how she must be crazy talking to herself. They can't even tell she's trying to talk to them (sorry no citation).
. . . . .
BTW, I'm writing this before reading the other blogs, so my apologies if some of these things have already come up. I sometimes like to do things back-asswards.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Woman at Point Zero: Week 1, first post.
So. What can I say about this powerful little book? My experience of Woman at Point Zero has been a sudden shift into a world that was previously invisible to me, a glimpse into a corner of human experience that we as Americans tend to avoid looking into as much as possible. First of all, I wasn't aware that the novel had a non-fictional basis until I read Saadawi's preface, which did an excellent job at giving me the literal background of the story, but nothing prepared me for the darkly poetic imagery which engulfs the reader as Firdaus plunges into her fast-paced, but strikingly detailed life story.
I feel like the translator, Sherif Hetata, deserves recognition here, because he has either preserved the poetic quality of the original language or has created a new piece of art himself. The way the story flows is organic as human memory, recalling some details and leaving some out, skimming over some time periods and lingering on others, conveying the harsh reality of her life with a sort of calm detachment, as if it was being told by someone who is already dead. The exact words have no doubt been altered from what the real Firdaus said, but I feel that this was done with so much skill that it in a way brings her back to life. Phrases and imagery repeat themselves in certain places, taking the reader beyond the "what where and when" story and into the mind and essence of Firdaus. For example, the image of the eyes of her mother, "two rings of intense white around two circles of intense black", repeats with any character who treats Firdaus like a human being, all of which are women with one exception, mens features aren't often described in detail, except the nasty thing on Sheikh Mahmoud's chin.
As the story progresses, I get the sense that Firdaus' life is rushing past with such intensity that she has no time to analyze her experiences. Things happen to her, things are done to her, and things happen around her, she's given no explanation and given no opportunity to question, input, or even react-- it's a story told from the perspective of an object, able to observe but unable to make any choices affecting her place in the world... until the time a man puts a ten pound note into her hand and she realizes that with money, she can do. Only then did she become an active participant in her life story. She had known about money, but she had been taught to ignore it, mirroring the way that in this country we're taught to ignore the fact that Firdaus' world really exists.
I think what's powerful about Realism is that it reminds us that real human lives don't follow the same patterns as stories do. When she met Ibrahim I couldn't help but hope that he would marry her and they would live happily ever after, even though I knew that isn't how it happens. Her moment of euphoria when she realizes she loves him is the brightest happiest paragraph in the book, and I felt angry at her co-worker for breaking her illusion so quickly (90).
Anyway, as to the answer to the prompt question, the difference for Firdaus between being a prostitute and being a lower-level female employee is that as a prostitute she had dignity, didn't fear anything, and felt that she was in control of her life rather than a slave to a company. She sees that women in the working class humiliate themselves for fear of being homeless or having to resort to a prostitute, a fear which she sees as illusory because of the freedom and self-respect she felt when she was a prostitute. After Ibrahim tosses her to the curb like a cigarette butt, she reflects that as a prostitute she was never really emotionally hurt by anyone because she never made herself vulnerable to it, but by falling in love she expected something more than to be treated like shit, which made it hurt more than anything ever had before to be treated like shit by this particular man. With Ibrahim was the only time that the sexual act was described as an act of "giving"-- she never gave anyone anything as a prostitute. This causes her to see marriage, as well as employment, as just another form of slavery.
Do you guys think this is true? This isn't to say that this is true for everyone obviously, but based on her experiences, in her world, the most freedom she has ever known is the freedom of choosing who to sell herself to. As a prostitute she can choose not to go to the "Head of State", whoever that was, and has nothing to lose by refusing it, but as an employee you have to do whatever you're told or else you lose your job, and as a wife you have to do whatever your husband says or else you get beaten (and probably get beaten anyway just for being a woman). I think this is an intriguing example of how values can be relative: for some, marriage is bliss, for her, it is torture. Do you think that Firdaus is an "honorable" woman, or would it have been more honorable for her to stay with her husband? What does honorable mean anyway?
More trigger questions: What else have you noticed about the attitude and tone of the book and how it changes as it goes on? What imagery sticks in your mind the most? Besides the description of the eyes that I mentioned, where else do you see repetition of certain phrases, and what effect does that have? Do you think that vivid imagery comes from the words of the real Firdaus, or was it added by Saadawi?
To end with, a favorite quote:
"Now I had learnt that honour required large sums of money to protect it, but that large sums of money could not be obtained without losing one's honour. An infernal circle whirling round and round, dragging me up and down with it" (99).
I feel like the translator, Sherif Hetata, deserves recognition here, because he has either preserved the poetic quality of the original language or has created a new piece of art himself. The way the story flows is organic as human memory, recalling some details and leaving some out, skimming over some time periods and lingering on others, conveying the harsh reality of her life with a sort of calm detachment, as if it was being told by someone who is already dead. The exact words have no doubt been altered from what the real Firdaus said, but I feel that this was done with so much skill that it in a way brings her back to life. Phrases and imagery repeat themselves in certain places, taking the reader beyond the "what where and when" story and into the mind and essence of Firdaus. For example, the image of the eyes of her mother, "two rings of intense white around two circles of intense black", repeats with any character who treats Firdaus like a human being, all of which are women with one exception, mens features aren't often described in detail, except the nasty thing on Sheikh Mahmoud's chin.
As the story progresses, I get the sense that Firdaus' life is rushing past with such intensity that she has no time to analyze her experiences. Things happen to her, things are done to her, and things happen around her, she's given no explanation and given no opportunity to question, input, or even react-- it's a story told from the perspective of an object, able to observe but unable to make any choices affecting her place in the world... until the time a man puts a ten pound note into her hand and she realizes that with money, she can do. Only then did she become an active participant in her life story. She had known about money, but she had been taught to ignore it, mirroring the way that in this country we're taught to ignore the fact that Firdaus' world really exists.
I think what's powerful about Realism is that it reminds us that real human lives don't follow the same patterns as stories do. When she met Ibrahim I couldn't help but hope that he would marry her and they would live happily ever after, even though I knew that isn't how it happens. Her moment of euphoria when she realizes she loves him is the brightest happiest paragraph in the book, and I felt angry at her co-worker for breaking her illusion so quickly (90).
Anyway, as to the answer to the prompt question, the difference for Firdaus between being a prostitute and being a lower-level female employee is that as a prostitute she had dignity, didn't fear anything, and felt that she was in control of her life rather than a slave to a company. She sees that women in the working class humiliate themselves for fear of being homeless or having to resort to a prostitute, a fear which she sees as illusory because of the freedom and self-respect she felt when she was a prostitute. After Ibrahim tosses her to the curb like a cigarette butt, she reflects that as a prostitute she was never really emotionally hurt by anyone because she never made herself vulnerable to it, but by falling in love she expected something more than to be treated like shit, which made it hurt more than anything ever had before to be treated like shit by this particular man. With Ibrahim was the only time that the sexual act was described as an act of "giving"-- she never gave anyone anything as a prostitute. This causes her to see marriage, as well as employment, as just another form of slavery.
Do you guys think this is true? This isn't to say that this is true for everyone obviously, but based on her experiences, in her world, the most freedom she has ever known is the freedom of choosing who to sell herself to. As a prostitute she can choose not to go to the "Head of State", whoever that was, and has nothing to lose by refusing it, but as an employee you have to do whatever you're told or else you lose your job, and as a wife you have to do whatever your husband says or else you get beaten (and probably get beaten anyway just for being a woman). I think this is an intriguing example of how values can be relative: for some, marriage is bliss, for her, it is torture. Do you think that Firdaus is an "honorable" woman, or would it have been more honorable for her to stay with her husband? What does honorable mean anyway?
More trigger questions: What else have you noticed about the attitude and tone of the book and how it changes as it goes on? What imagery sticks in your mind the most? Besides the description of the eyes that I mentioned, where else do you see repetition of certain phrases, and what effect does that have? Do you think that vivid imagery comes from the words of the real Firdaus, or was it added by Saadawi?
To end with, a favorite quote:
"Now I had learnt that honour required large sums of money to protect it, but that large sums of money could not be obtained without losing one's honour. An infernal circle whirling round and round, dragging me up and down with it" (99).
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Looking forward to some weighty reading this Spring...
Woman at Point Zero should arrive soon. Hoping to bring copies to our meeting this Thursday (4/7 at 4:15 in CC3346). See you there.
Aryana
Aryana
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
"The wife is the property of the husband, no less so than a cow or a slave"
I have so much I want to talk about, but I will hols back so that I am not deflated come time for the "end book"/book vote meeting.
For this blog I will speculate on part of the is question for the second part of our reading segment, "How does the author's foreshadowing through the eyes of Panchaali enhance your experience of the tale?".
At the beginning of the story I was not sure how I felt about all of Panchaali's foreshadowing. It is clear from the start that she is telling us this tale from the very end of whatever major has happened to her. We get snippets of disaster and misfortune mixed with hope and destiny. At first I didn't think I wanted to know that her future was going to be full of death, destruction, and misery, but it is clear to me now that if there had not been this great amount of foreshadowing I probably would have had a sever stroke or heart attack from the shear suspense of it all. I think it also makes a clear path in what could be a very convoluted and confusing story for those of us not intimately involved with the Hindu religion and the story of the Mahabharat. So, now that I am almost finished with this novel, I am grateful to Divakaruni for being insightful enough to add such a dynamic to this story by using the foreshadowing as a regular technique to aid in the interest of what is to come but to also clarify things by giving us the background before it has even happened. I love it!
I am also very interested in what I am learning regarding the unusual cast system that is happening here. Not only do we have the issue of gender inequality (which is clearly demonstarted by the quote I used to title this blog post) but there is also the cast inequality struggles that seem even more outrageous than that between the men and women. We learn from chapter 21 "afterlife" that the descrimination of the different levels of society are continued into the eternal,
I think for the third installment of Palace which I am about to indulge in will have its bearings within this particular quote from Panchaali that stood out to me, "At what point does forbearance cease to be a virtue and become a weakness?" (210)...a little foreshadowing.
For this blog I will speculate on part of the is question for the second part of our reading segment, "How does the author's foreshadowing through the eyes of Panchaali enhance your experience of the tale?".
At the beginning of the story I was not sure how I felt about all of Panchaali's foreshadowing. It is clear from the start that she is telling us this tale from the very end of whatever major has happened to her. We get snippets of disaster and misfortune mixed with hope and destiny. At first I didn't think I wanted to know that her future was going to be full of death, destruction, and misery, but it is clear to me now that if there had not been this great amount of foreshadowing I probably would have had a sever stroke or heart attack from the shear suspense of it all. I think it also makes a clear path in what could be a very convoluted and confusing story for those of us not intimately involved with the Hindu religion and the story of the Mahabharat. So, now that I am almost finished with this novel, I am grateful to Divakaruni for being insightful enough to add such a dynamic to this story by using the foreshadowing as a regular technique to aid in the interest of what is to come but to also clarify things by giving us the background before it has even happened. I love it!
I am also very interested in what I am learning regarding the unusual cast system that is happening here. Not only do we have the issue of gender inequality (which is clearly demonstarted by the quote I used to title this blog post) but there is also the cast inequality struggles that seem even more outrageous than that between the men and women. We learn from chapter 21 "afterlife" that the descrimination of the different levels of society are continued into the eternal,
This is all well and good, but nowhere does it mention where someone like Karna or Dhai Ma would end up."The boundaries of afterlife are even more complicated than the rules that pen us in on earth. Depending on their deeds, the dead can be dispatched to many different abodes. Fortunate brahmins are sent to Brahmaloka, where they can learn divine wisdom directly from the Creator. The best among kshatriyas go to Indraloka, filled as it is with pleasures both artistic and hedonistic. Lesser warriors must be content with the courts of the god of death, or the sun and moon deities. For evildoers. there are one hundred and thirty-six levels of hell, each corresponding to a particular sin, and each with its own set of tortures, such as tongue-tearing, being boiled in oil, or being devoured by ravenous birds, all of which our scriptures describe with great relish." (155)
I think for the third installment of Palace which I am about to indulge in will have its bearings within this particular quote from Panchaali that stood out to me, "At what point does forbearance cease to be a virtue and become a weakness?" (210)...a little foreshadowing.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Fate
I think the author's usage of foreshadowing helps to reinforce the inevitability of fate and show that no matter what Panchaali does to try to change things, fate will twists events in such a way as to make things happen the way they the gods intended. For example, when she is warned by Vyasa to "hold back [her] laughter" (40), it is actually her attendants that laugh and directly cause the damage to Duryodhan's pride, which Panchaali has no control over. Panchaali plays an entirely different role in the whole debacle with Duryodhan: it is her preoccupation with Karna that first keeps her from warning the rival prince, and then prevents her from apologizing (172-173). Throughout the novel, Panchaali's love for Karna and her attempts to hide that love through her mistreatment of him seem to seal both their fates. It is her longing for him that causes her to go against her better judgment and accept the invitation to the imitation palace (177) and then her fear of Kunti's judgment when they meet in their matching white garb that makes her treat him like a nobody instead of taking the one opportunity that he gives her to make amends (187). If there hadn't been this accumulation of bad experiences between them, which have resulted in the repressed feelings they both have for each other, then maybe Karna would have helped her without her having to beg for it and she wouldn't have been humiliated by him and declared war on the Kauravas. I think Divakaruni really wants us to consider the what if's of the story, to ask ourselves why things had to happen the way they did. It shows us what Panchaali and Dhri knew at the very beginning of the story: that a story can have a certain sequence of events, but the meaning of those events and the motivations of the people that shape them are multiple and varied.
In the second part of the story, it seems like Panchaali is more by duty that anything else, and that it is the duty she feels owed by her husbands that keeps her on the path to vengeance. This is dangerous, because in being consumed by the obligations that bind her and her husbands together, she begins to lose sight of herself. In the year of hiding when Panchaali becomes the servant of a queen, she thinks to herself, "It seemed that everything I'd lived until now had been a role. The princess who longed for acceptance, the guilty girl whose heart wouldn't listen, the wife who balanced her fivefold role precariously, the rebellious daughter-in-law, the queen who ruled in the most magical of palaces, the distracted mother, the beloved compoanion of Krishna, who refused to learn the lessons he offered, the woman obsessed with vengeance--none of them were the true Panchaali. If not, who was I?" (229). I don't know if this is Divakaruni's comment on something that happens to Indian women, who are often pulled into the role of caring for the men in their lives, or if this is just another way for Divakaruni to emphasize fate in Panchaali's life by undermining her free will and thus her sense of self. As I was reading, I also asked the question "Who is Panchaali?" There seems to be no constancy in her sense of self; it's always changing to suit the particular role that she is required to fill. The only time that I get the sense that she is truly herself is when she is alone in one of her gardens in the Palace of Illusions, or she is thinking about Karna because those are two things that are strongly connected to her own desires. It seems like her fate is just a huge denial of her own wants and needs, and that the one thing that she is allowed to have (the war) will destroy what little happiness she has left.
In the second part of the story, it seems like Panchaali is more by duty that anything else, and that it is the duty she feels owed by her husbands that keeps her on the path to vengeance. This is dangerous, because in being consumed by the obligations that bind her and her husbands together, she begins to lose sight of herself. In the year of hiding when Panchaali becomes the servant of a queen, she thinks to herself, "It seemed that everything I'd lived until now had been a role. The princess who longed for acceptance, the guilty girl whose heart wouldn't listen, the wife who balanced her fivefold role precariously, the rebellious daughter-in-law, the queen who ruled in the most magical of palaces, the distracted mother, the beloved compoanion of Krishna, who refused to learn the lessons he offered, the woman obsessed with vengeance--none of them were the true Panchaali. If not, who was I?" (229). I don't know if this is Divakaruni's comment on something that happens to Indian women, who are often pulled into the role of caring for the men in their lives, or if this is just another way for Divakaruni to emphasize fate in Panchaali's life by undermining her free will and thus her sense of self. As I was reading, I also asked the question "Who is Panchaali?" There seems to be no constancy in her sense of self; it's always changing to suit the particular role that she is required to fill. The only time that I get the sense that she is truly herself is when she is alone in one of her gardens in the Palace of Illusions, or she is thinking about Karna because those are two things that are strongly connected to her own desires. It seems like her fate is just a huge denial of her own wants and needs, and that the one thing that she is allowed to have (the war) will destroy what little happiness she has left.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Meanings and Realities of Inequality
I apologize for being late everyone! I thought that I posted this a few days ago but when I visited the blog this morning to see what other people have to say about the book I could not see it. If I am somehow an idiot and this is a double post, I apologize.
There are two central themes in this book that really seem to speak to me: the realities and meanings of gender inequality and the injustice of war. For this first post I will focus on the theme of the realities and meaning of gender inequality. As I read, although I am paying close attention to the author’s use of symbolism and the fantastical to bring up modern issues, I am reading the story quite literally. I am a big fan in the Joseph Campbell and really believe in his thoughts on the power of myth. He says that they teach us lessons and give us life instructions. I feel that if I were to try to interpret every fantastical thing that happens in The Palace of Illusions, I would miss a big part of the many true meanings.
Author Chitra Banerjee Divarkaruni illuminates the paradigm of gender inequalities through the voice of the stunningly beautiful, strong willed Panchaali princess Drapaudi. The circumstances of her birth and royal status in many ways shield Drapaudi from the reality of the male dominated world and a woman’s place in it. This is important because as she is shocked and learns the minutiae of this patriarchal system, over time, these ins and outs are illuminated for us. The depth and dynamics of her many relationships, the complexity of her emotions, and the path of resistance that she, more often than not, chooses to take all show Drapaudi to be truly born of fire—a powerful force and a true feminist of an epic age.
I found Drapaudi’s education with the sorceress to be very interesting. I was surprised by what she learned and because I read from a male perspective and I had to actually read it a few times in order to really get what she was learning. I wondered, why is agreeing to be taught humility when her will and existence were powerful enough to be destined to change the course of history? Fortunately, Dhai Ma raised the same question and that was my prompt to pay attention. Dhai asked, “Whoever heard of a queen braiding someone’s hair—or even her own for that matter?” (61) She later exclaims that the sorceress “will be the death of you! She is wearing you down to skin and bone.” (61) Drapaudi’s internal reflection really answered my questions. She spoke of how the sorceress taught her things to help her deal with hardships, to sleep on the floor, and to be beautiful or homely at will. She says, “I noticed her lessons were opposites” (61). She taught her how to fight injustice by using narrow minded perceptions to create the illusion of meekness while holding a position of power.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
groovy t-shirts
Thanks Victoria for making club t-shirts. I'm very happy with mine...even though the front letters are peeling off...if I can get the remnants to shed, the back side lettering seems to be holding up well. And its very cool...you put a lot of work into it.
Blue Gods and Firebabies
Sorry to be blogging several days late! Let me say first, that I am really enjoying this book. I am trying to resist the urge to look up the actual Mahabharat, lest I spoil the story. I have also resisted the urge to read other people’s blogs before writing this one, so I’m sorry if there’s overlap in what I say and what other people have said (but not really).
To respond to this week’s question, I think Dhri and Panchaali/Draupadi’s birth from fire is absolutely literal. This story is of a time and place in which Deity and magic are totally real, and play a part in every day life. When Krishna’s magical exploits (demon killing, mountain lifting, superhuman seduction) and possible godhood are addressed (8 – 10), Panchaali, of course, brushes them off, as people love to exaggerate (19). But her tone indicates that she doesn’t really feel there is reason these things couldn’t being true. In other words, her close personal acquaintance might be a god, but this matter doesn’t bear much consideration or concern.
Then also there is Panchaali’s question to Dhai Ma (sorry I don’t have the page number or exact quote), if Dhai Ma believes human beings can be born from gods. Dhai Ma’s response is basically, “just as surely as they can be born from fire!” It strikes me that she is referring to a literal fire-birth here.
On the other hand, I’m made to wonder whether the author is attempting to normalize what would appear divine, when Panchaali and Krishna’s skin tones come up (once again, sorry no page number). They are both stated to be so dark that they are called blue. I wonder if this actually might have been the origin of blue gods and heroes in the Hindu tradition – I mean whether blue was originally a description of realistic and very dark human skin color, which Hindu artists later took to be literally and unnaturally blue.
Either way, this is a story about real people. I don’t see why some aspects of what we now would call magic and divinity could not be fully literal – so much so that the human characters in Illusions are a little jaded toward them – while some aspects might be explained away, and nothing special.
* * *
I really like Panchaali, the clever and slightly rebellious girl who tussles with destiny and tradition vs. choice. My favorite of her exchanges, and one which I feel helps the reader get to know her pretty well, is on page 40, when the sage makes reference to her pride, temper, and vengefulness. She glares and fires back, “I’m not like that!”
That’s all for now.
-Kevin
Monday, March 7, 2011
Cosmic Restriction
What strikes me...and so what Divakaruni successfully illustrates...is the relentless hold of social restriction on the characters. Regardless of their status, whether in terms of wealth, intellectual prowess, or gender each character is bound to a predetermined set of expectations and permitted behaviors. And these assigned roles are writ large to a cosmic level...as go the patterns of men and women, so go the patterns of the gods, and vice versa.
Some of the most interesting tension in the story comes from seeing how the characters play the greater or lesser power vested in their particular position. For example, Kunti the merciless and seemingly all-controlling mother of the Pandava brothers, walks a fine line in her maternal manipulations and in trying to establish her sons securely. Her personal power comes through being a mother...but that only lasts if her sons gain status. She feels the pressure. (119)
Another example, of precarious power play is the fact of Panchalii's marriage to all five brothers. On the one hand, as Dhai Ma points out Panchaali has now the "freedom men had had for centuries." (120) On the other, Panchaali has to be given the "boon" of regaining her virginity after spending her allotted period of time with each husband, to maintain her chastity as dictated by social expectations of a proper woman. Divakaruni observes that what seems to be unprecedented equity for this female character is actually another manifestation of fate assigning her the role of "communal drinking cup" or object shared among men. At the same time, this experience serves as venue for Panchaali to articulate to the reader her own desires and to gain deeper understanding into another strong female character in the story, her mother in law Kunti.
Divakaruni shows how each character behaves according to their allotted role/s (as is a prime lesson of the Mahabharata) and simultaneously turns the story inside out by illustrating the female characters' motivations, and at least one female character's internal narrative.
Some of the most interesting tension in the story comes from seeing how the characters play the greater or lesser power vested in their particular position. For example, Kunti the merciless and seemingly all-controlling mother of the Pandava brothers, walks a fine line in her maternal manipulations and in trying to establish her sons securely. Her personal power comes through being a mother...but that only lasts if her sons gain status. She feels the pressure. (119)
Another example, of precarious power play is the fact of Panchalii's marriage to all five brothers. On the one hand, as Dhai Ma points out Panchaali has now the "freedom men had had for centuries." (120) On the other, Panchaali has to be given the "boon" of regaining her virginity after spending her allotted period of time with each husband, to maintain her chastity as dictated by social expectations of a proper woman. Divakaruni observes that what seems to be unprecedented equity for this female character is actually another manifestation of fate assigning her the role of "communal drinking cup" or object shared among men. At the same time, this experience serves as venue for Panchaali to articulate to the reader her own desires and to gain deeper understanding into another strong female character in the story, her mother in law Kunti.
Divakaruni shows how each character behaves according to their allotted role/s (as is a prime lesson of the Mahabharata) and simultaneously turns the story inside out by illustrating the female characters' motivations, and at least one female character's internal narrative.
First Chapters!~
I can't say much about the book yet. To say I've started is almost an overstatement. I am looking forward to reading more, because I am already seeing a huge potential for a very interesting book. Mythology has no boundaries in the visual image, the strange and metaphorical events, and within the first three pages the author is already taking advantage of the imagination possible. With a little twist of sarcasm. I can tell already that I'm not going to remember any of the names, but the characters seem very interesting so I definitely have a good mental image of them going. For some reason at the introduction of King Drupad, I thought of a powerful merman, at least in the general features (besides the obvious lack of tail). Draupadi feels to me like a little bit of a clever trouble maker, and a peacemaker, but then again I haven't gotten far at all.
How funny, when I read "The smoke rose" I pictured a literal rose made out of smoke. I might be accidentally making some of the visual images even more interesting.
It seems like in a lot of old stories and mythology, the line between reality and myth is blurred. It humors me that even the characters in the book acknowledge that there is a level of myth in their lives. The difference is the realism of prophecy in their world.
How funny, when I read "The smoke rose" I pictured a literal rose made out of smoke. I might be accidentally making some of the visual images even more interesting.
It seems like in a lot of old stories and mythology, the line between reality and myth is blurred. It humors me that even the characters in the book acknowledge that there is a level of myth in their lives. The difference is the realism of prophecy in their world.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Births and Epics
I am interested in the story of the different births that have taken place up to this point. The question posed is whether or not I read the events of the births as literal or symbolic. I am going to have to say that I believe it is a little of both. We are reading about an epic tale that is taken as truth for many people. I think relating this to the bible story would not be a far reach. I do not know very much of the bible but I am aware of the tale of Adam and Eve. I also know that many people take these stories as the literal truth. I think to properly answer the question who would have to say that it depend on what you have faith in and what you believe in your heart. It is interesting that Panchaali and Dhri were both born from fire at the age of 5. They did not come out as infants. It is also interesting that they both remember it well. So clearly they have no mother or do we think that since they were born of the Gods that maybe a form of Vishnu would be there mother? I wonder about this.
What is even more fascinating than the birth of Panchaali and Dhri by the fire of the Gods is the birth of the 100 Kaurava brothers and 1 sister that were born of Gandhari:
There is a lot of speculation to be had in regards to these events. I will say that I read the first section last night in one sitting. It is like a noir fairy tale. So far for me it has been engrossing and full of wonderment. I feel for Panchaali but also wish she would forget about her destiny and find Karna her true love. By going to see the sorcerer I believe he sealed her fate even more (which I am a true believer in--fate, not necessarily sorcerers). If she had hear the three hints to help her sway her destiny maybe she would have happened upon that path naturally instead of trying to locate those moments and try to brush away the path herself:
What is even more fascinating than the birth of Panchaali and Dhri by the fire of the Gods is the birth of the 100 Kaurava brothers and 1 sister that were born of Gandhari:
Now do I believe this as literal or symbolic? Well, what is the meaning of the butter then? Is it the richness, the saftey? Maybe it is a substitue for the fat and nurishment of Gadhari's uterus?"Perhaps the frustrated king berated her, or perhaps the fact that he'd taken one of her waiting women as his mistress drove Gandhari to act of desperation. She struck her stomach again and again until she bled, and bleeding, gave birth to a huge, unformed ball of flesh...But luckily a holy man showed up. He cut the ball into a hundred and one pieces, and called for vats of butter, one for each piece. He sealed the pieces in the vats and cautioned that they shouldn't be opened for a year. And that is how Duryodhan and his brothers--and their sister Duhsala--were born." (77)
There is a lot of speculation to be had in regards to these events. I will say that I read the first section last night in one sitting. It is like a noir fairy tale. So far for me it has been engrossing and full of wonderment. I feel for Panchaali but also wish she would forget about her destiny and find Karna her true love. By going to see the sorcerer I believe he sealed her fate even more (which I am a true believer in--fate, not necessarily sorcerers). If she had hear the three hints to help her sway her destiny maybe she would have happened upon that path naturally instead of trying to locate those moments and try to brush away the path herself:
If I knew I had the power to change my destiny, and I knew what I had to do, it would make it that much more difficult and confusing to live my life. Wouldn't that be all you are thinking about? She even mentions the moment about her wedding later. She knew exactly when she shouldn't have asked the question about Karna's father but she did anyway--fully knowing that it will be a great war, many deaths, and shame to herself:He said, "But I'll give you some advice. Three dangerous moments will come to you. The first will be just before your wedding:at that time, hold back your question. The second will be when your husbands are at the height of their power: at that time, hold back your laughter. The third will be when you're shamed as you'd never imagined possible:at that time, hold back your curse. Maybe it will mitigate the catastrophes to come." (40)
Is anyone else curious as to why all the king's started to attack in the wedding hall after the brahmin (Arjun in disguise) shot the arrow at the fish and won Panchaali? I wasn't sure about that. I felt they were about to attack if there was no winner, but indeed there was. I would like to hear your thoughts on this point, leave a comment. Happy Reading! I know I am!"On my wedding day, I would see him in the marriage hall, seated at my father's right, his placement revealing an importance I hadn't guessed at. He'd gaze at me, blinking mildly, as though he'd never seen me before. When I'd make my first great mistake, his expression would remain unchanged, so that I wouldn't realize the enormity of what I had done until it was too late." (43)
Just checking in
Enjoying Palace of Illusions so far. Getting a kick out of Krishna. Don't really have a sense of our protagonist's substance yet.
Thanks, Victoria for the pretty background and for changing the font to lower case. Now it feels peaceful.
Aryana
Thanks, Victoria for the pretty background and for changing the font to lower case. Now it feels peaceful.
Aryana
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Remnants of Orange
What a great discussion of Tropic of Orange we had at the meeting yesterday! Thank you to all who showed up to chat: Tanya, Chris, Aryana, Alyssa, and Me. We each picked a character to discuss individual and from there the discussion took on a dimension of its own. Alyssa got Bobby, and good thing because he was her favorite character. He was strong, comfortable in his identity, and seeming to hold everything together at the end. Aryrana got Arcangel. What stood out the most was his building the wall around Gabriel's house with Rodriguez. Arcangel has a philosophical moment about Rodriguez's life while placing the bricks one by one into the wall as they represent different parts of this simple man. Chris got Gabriel, our main character (?). The observation was that he was the one character that was connected to the other seven characters in one way or another. He was lost in his identity and perhaps exploiting people close to him to regain a historical identity of what he thought he should be.Tanya got Raefela, which she started with, "Where do I begin..." What stood out most was her great transformation into the mythical serpent while her attacker took on the image of a jaguar (also the car he was driving). She put up a hell of a fight, waking up with black fur in her mouth, a pocket knife in one hand and a man's ear in the other. I got Manzanar. We were split in the group about what his outcome was but it was clear to all that he was indeed the conductor of the mayhem throughout the story. Did he help save his granddaughter Emi and return to a "normal" life or did he comfort his granddaughter in her dying hour and then return to be a transient once more? As a group we discusses Buzzworm and Emi since we were missing two members. Emi was a firecracker that spoke the truth with a sharp tongue and like Gabriel was not entirely comfortable or aware of her true identity. Buzzworm was the swizzle stick in the drink that was Orange. He was proud of who he was and was a product of his neighborhood. He spent his time trying to fix the problems with L.A. and by the end found out that it was time to start opening up himself.
I look forward to our next discussion and I really hope to see a blog from everyone once a week. Enjoy The Palace of Illusions and keep an eye out for any "realism" that you want to suggest. Email me with your ideas and I will put them into a ballot for the next meeting.
I look forward to our next discussion and I really hope to see a blog from everyone once a week. Enjoy The Palace of Illusions and keep an eye out for any "realism" that you want to suggest. Email me with your ideas and I will put them into a ballot for the next meeting.
Friday, February 25, 2011
The last words from the orange
Hey pretty! Thanks Victoria for the lovely upgrade! Perfect theme! I was wondering about the all-caps styled font though, because it is really hard for me to read. Unless it's just on my end, or just me.
My last thoughts on Tropic of Orange before we move on.....
Overall, I disliked the book. Surprise, yes. But what is quite nice is discussing and theorizing about the book makes it a lot more fun to read. The overall move and pace of the book was a frenzy, and I enjoyed very much the separation of character chapters, but something about it just didn't pull me in.
But, in between the hard to decipher metaphors and references to things I don't understand (I'm sure there are many inside jokes), I found bits of gold in every section.
I still was enamored with Emi, because what a fun truth she spoke. In books, I have found few interesting, sporadic characters like her.
I was extremely interested in the chapter with the sushi-maker and the discussion about cultural diversity being bullshit, as someone else noted. Her need to offend was extremely humorous, because in American culture, it seems that everything has to be sugar-coated. What she said was, I felt, the truth, but if you say it in a blunt and honest way, anyone will downplay it or be shocked. I met a lady one time from another country, I believe from one in Africa. She talked about how shocking it was when she got here, because everyone lies!! Everyone white lies about everything. You cannot criticize people, you cannot be honest, and it was stressful for her to adjust to. She was not used to not be able to say what she was thinking without being perceived as aggressive.
What humors me is on the opposite end, I have a friend from Japan who has been living here for a little while, and he would tell me about how open people here are. That he was surprised how people talk and smile at strangers, that people talk about politics and can be open with people of a higher-up status.
I think it's very interesting thinking about cultures and their social etiquette.
Also, the very nature of the US to compensate for guilt, for the guilt of their race or the need to defend their multiculturalism.
It's a fun subject, because I'm a sincere believer of color-blindness. If there are no true differences between us beyond the potential culture, if race doesn't define us, it is no different than a hair-color. Fun thought, a passion. Male and female, black and white, asian and hispanic, it's fun to think of a world melded together with no predetermined expectations for each.
But that's a related and unrelated tangent. I think I enjoy that in books we can see the brutally honest characters we rarely meet in real life.
I think one could puzzle all the metaphors in this book for years. Why oranges? Why cocaine? Why tropic of cancer? What does it mean? What does it mean?
My last thoughts on Tropic of Orange before we move on.....
Overall, I disliked the book. Surprise, yes. But what is quite nice is discussing and theorizing about the book makes it a lot more fun to read. The overall move and pace of the book was a frenzy, and I enjoyed very much the separation of character chapters, but something about it just didn't pull me in.
But, in between the hard to decipher metaphors and references to things I don't understand (I'm sure there are many inside jokes), I found bits of gold in every section.
I still was enamored with Emi, because what a fun truth she spoke. In books, I have found few interesting, sporadic characters like her.
I was extremely interested in the chapter with the sushi-maker and the discussion about cultural diversity being bullshit, as someone else noted. Her need to offend was extremely humorous, because in American culture, it seems that everything has to be sugar-coated. What she said was, I felt, the truth, but if you say it in a blunt and honest way, anyone will downplay it or be shocked. I met a lady one time from another country, I believe from one in Africa. She talked about how shocking it was when she got here, because everyone lies!! Everyone white lies about everything. You cannot criticize people, you cannot be honest, and it was stressful for her to adjust to. She was not used to not be able to say what she was thinking without being perceived as aggressive.
What humors me is on the opposite end, I have a friend from Japan who has been living here for a little while, and he would tell me about how open people here are. That he was surprised how people talk and smile at strangers, that people talk about politics and can be open with people of a higher-up status.
I think it's very interesting thinking about cultures and their social etiquette.
Also, the very nature of the US to compensate for guilt, for the guilt of their race or the need to defend their multiculturalism.
It's a fun subject, because I'm a sincere believer of color-blindness. If there are no true differences between us beyond the potential culture, if race doesn't define us, it is no different than a hair-color. Fun thought, a passion. Male and female, black and white, asian and hispanic, it's fun to think of a world melded together with no predetermined expectations for each.
But that's a related and unrelated tangent. I think I enjoy that in books we can see the brutally honest characters we rarely meet in real life.
I think one could puzzle all the metaphors in this book for years. Why oranges? Why cocaine? Why tropic of cancer? What does it mean? What does it mean?
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Serpents, Angels, and the End Time
Hey y'all. I'm only on pg 55. Hoping to catch mostly up this weekend. But I told Victoria I'd blog, so here I am.
I am really struck by the character of Buzzworm. The sleepless, philosophizing, tree loving altruist, and walking, 24/7 social service center. I wondered immediately about his watches, and his habit of giving watches away to people who need them. Time is an invented concept, and its only use is to allow us - people - to coordinate with one another more efficiently. I wonder if the author intended that for Buzzworm - who cares so much for homless, junkies, and other downtrodden and disenfranchized people - to give them watches, might be a symbol of their regained humanity. Or that Buzzworm is encouraging them to rejoin the "real world" and human collective. Then I thought, maybe I'm making too much of it. I later found out about Buzzworm's deal with Gabriel, to supply him with information about the unseen and unsung city residents - and Gabriel's attempt in his writing to "humanize the homeless" (43). Also share half of his prize money if he wins the Pulitzer. I wonder what noble purpose Buzzworm has in mind. I wonder if he'll surprise us by using it selfishly, haha.
I get the same feeling from Buzzworm, that I got about Transito Soto in House. I think he is going to play a very important role in this story. I was thinking about his name, in the context of some of the other names in the book. And here, I really might be making too much of things, but I'll say it anyway: "worm" derives from the Anglo-Saxon "wyrm," which means snake or dragon. Then of course we've got Quetzal (Arcangel), old as time, and named for the beautiful tropical bird, which was associated by the Aztecs with their Quetzalcoatl - who was the winged serpent god. This was also the god that the Aztecs took Cortéz to be when he showed up on their shores. Speaking of which, I really like the idea of a prophesy of doom, and the prophet is sure it's going to happen, but just doesn't have the date down for sure . . . and doesn't know which reference year to use . . . but it will be in your lifetime! He just needs to recalculate.
This brings me to something totally unrelated to the book (or is it? I guess I'll know when I read more). I hear a lot of talk about 2012, and doomsday prophesied by the end of the Mayan calender. I heard from an Anthropology professor once (and never checked to confirm), that the Aztecs had also calculated the year in which the world would end. Their calculation correlated with the Gregorian year 1519 - the year Cortéz landed. Their calculation also had specifically to do with their belief in 52 year cycles, which cycles are mentioned (a lot) in chapter 7. Just something to think about.
Back to things more relevant to the book: does anyone else think their might be a connection to the fact that Arcangel appears possibly to be a real angel, and that there is another important character in the book named Gabriel?
See you all at the meeting, if I don't post again first.
I am really struck by the character of Buzzworm. The sleepless, philosophizing, tree loving altruist, and walking, 24/7 social service center. I wondered immediately about his watches, and his habit of giving watches away to people who need them. Time is an invented concept, and its only use is to allow us - people - to coordinate with one another more efficiently. I wonder if the author intended that for Buzzworm - who cares so much for homless, junkies, and other downtrodden and disenfranchized people - to give them watches, might be a symbol of their regained humanity. Or that Buzzworm is encouraging them to rejoin the "real world" and human collective. Then I thought, maybe I'm making too much of it. I later found out about Buzzworm's deal with Gabriel, to supply him with information about the unseen and unsung city residents - and Gabriel's attempt in his writing to "humanize the homeless" (43). Also share half of his prize money if he wins the Pulitzer. I wonder what noble purpose Buzzworm has in mind. I wonder if he'll surprise us by using it selfishly, haha.
I get the same feeling from Buzzworm, that I got about Transito Soto in House. I think he is going to play a very important role in this story. I was thinking about his name, in the context of some of the other names in the book. And here, I really might be making too much of things, but I'll say it anyway: "worm" derives from the Anglo-Saxon "wyrm," which means snake or dragon. Then of course we've got Quetzal (Arcangel), old as time, and named for the beautiful tropical bird, which was associated by the Aztecs with their Quetzalcoatl - who was the winged serpent god. This was also the god that the Aztecs took Cortéz to be when he showed up on their shores. Speaking of which, I really like the idea of a prophesy of doom, and the prophet is sure it's going to happen, but just doesn't have the date down for sure . . . and doesn't know which reference year to use . . . but it will be in your lifetime! He just needs to recalculate.
This brings me to something totally unrelated to the book (or is it? I guess I'll know when I read more). I hear a lot of talk about 2012, and doomsday prophesied by the end of the Mayan calender. I heard from an Anthropology professor once (and never checked to confirm), that the Aztecs had also calculated the year in which the world would end. Their calculation correlated with the Gregorian year 1519 - the year Cortéz landed. Their calculation also had specifically to do with their belief in 52 year cycles, which cycles are mentioned (a lot) in chapter 7. Just something to think about.
Back to things more relevant to the book: does anyone else think their might be a connection to the fact that Arcangel appears possibly to be a real angel, and that there is another important character in the book named Gabriel?
See you all at the meeting, if I don't post again first.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Politics of Class and Snakes
Out of the last two days (Wednesday & Thursday) that I have finished reading I want to go back to the very beginning of Wednesday and talk about Rafaela's experience in her chapter 18:Daylight- The Cornfield. I highlighted many things I wanted to mention or talk about but this particular inner thought moment of Rafaela I thought stuck out most to me. She left Bobby because she was tired of working hard for everyone as a housekeeper and cleaner "without benefits" (which she never really specifies what those benefits might be). She goes on to talk about how Bobby would tv's and electronic, the newest and best, for her and their son Sol. They had health insurance and a good home. She was tired of being on the bottom and working for others, but when she is in the cornfield with Dona Maria (before she heard Hernado the baby parts harvester in the kitchen) she has a moment of realization I would say and I feel like it makes a statement about the class system and the working class in particular. I think Rafaela, for a moment, discovers that if you are proud of what you do and work hard at does it really matter? I know she does not necesarrily want to clean house, but Bobby does. He likes to do all the jobs he does and he works hard so she should respect that and get used to it. Here is the passage to which I am referring,
On a different note in the same chapter I found something very poetic about the snake trying to meander the bulging brick wall that was beginning to take on a life of its own outside of Gabriel's place. The one that Rodriguez was building. "Rodriguez did not move to kill the snake as he might have because, she thought, the snake's path seemed oddly straight. If only the snake could define the nature of a straight line..." 115. Again we are left to ponder ourselves, what is the nature of a straight line?
Yamashita is smart by having Rafaela come to this conclusion that is both a little selfish and a little eye opening. Yamashita is saying that the problem with class exploitation is a national problem, global problem, not just the Bobby's and Rafaela's in L.A. And she leaves it at that for the chapter. There is no conclusion to the thought. She goes right into baby harvester. I like that we are left to ponder, "Does it matter?"."What will you do with so much corn?""Eat it, of course. As much as you want. The rest, Lupe will take to market for cash." Rafaela knew Lupe did everything on Dona Maria's place. Lupe cleaned, cooked, gardened, planted, and harvested. She fed the chickens, collected eggs, fattened the pigs, and slaughtered them when the time came. Rafaela thought about her argument with Bobby, about how she and Bobby did all the work without benefits, about exploitation. Now she had crossed the border and forgotten her anger. Lupe did all the work. Someone was always at the bottom. As long as she was not, did it matter?" 117
On a different note in the same chapter I found something very poetic about the snake trying to meander the bulging brick wall that was beginning to take on a life of its own outside of Gabriel's place. The one that Rodriguez was building. "Rodriguez did not move to kill the snake as he might have because, she thought, the snake's path seemed oddly straight. If only the snake could define the nature of a straight line..." 115. Again we are left to ponder ourselves, what is the nature of a straight line?
Saturday, February 12, 2011
I really love this book. The style is so refreshing and the characters each have their distinct ways of processing the world around them, which no doubt has to do with their politics of location. The characters that have the most interest for me are Emi, Buzzworm and Bobby. I'm feeling too frustrated with Rafaela to really get in her head. Why is she taking so long to reconcile with Bobby? I can understand that they got into this huge argument about the exploitation of immigrants in the U.S. and doesn't want to be a part of that, but she shouldn't be taking it out on Bobby. That doesn't solve anything. Bobby needs them to come back or he's going to work himself to death and no one's going to be around to care. I don't know, I really sympathize with this character because I see a lot of my father in him. Arcangel is interesting, but he's a very distant character, like Manzanar. They're both so metaphorical that it's difficult to connect with them on a human level. And Gabriel. I'm just not sure what to think of Gabriel. Despite the fact that he is the only one in the story that we get to hear through first person, I don't sympathize with him as much. I'm not sure if it's because his job and Emi overshadows him, but he just seems lost in what's going on around him. Emi on the other hand is obviously in control and is active, whereas Gabriel seems to be tugged along, either by Emi wanting him to live in the now by or tips from Buzzworm. I think there's going to come a point in the story, after he receives that ominous call from Rafaela, where he's going to be called upon to be active and the outcome of the situation is going to be determined by whether he can rise to the occasion or not.
Some of you have already pointed out how politics of location really comes through in the book. There was one passage in particular that really struck me. It's when Emi's at the sushi place with Gabriel and she says, "Cultural diversity is bullshit" (128), which ends up pissing off the person next to her, who I'm almost certain is white even though it's not explicitly stated. What Emi is saying is that multiculturalism is appropriation of other people's culture, rather than an exchange between cultures that leads to greater cultural understanding and equality. The other woman demonstrates this difference perfectly by feigning cultural understanding in addressing the sushi chef the Japanese way, but then being "patronizing" (128) in her interaction with him. Emi calls her out on it, saying "See what I mean, Hiro? You're invisible. I'm invisible. We're all invisible. It's just tea, ginger, raw fish, and a credit card" (128). The exchange of cultural materials (food) is just that: an exchange of materials. This exchange does not result in any change in the systems of privilege and dominance, but rather, reinforces them by reducing another culture to a mere commodity. This is only the case however, if one holds the same attitude as the woman who wrongly thinks that Emi is simply making "assumptions about people based on their color" (129). I love how Emi puts her in her place.
Some of you have already pointed out how politics of location really comes through in the book. There was one passage in particular that really struck me. It's when Emi's at the sushi place with Gabriel and she says, "Cultural diversity is bullshit" (128), which ends up pissing off the person next to her, who I'm almost certain is white even though it's not explicitly stated. What Emi is saying is that multiculturalism is appropriation of other people's culture, rather than an exchange between cultures that leads to greater cultural understanding and equality. The other woman demonstrates this difference perfectly by feigning cultural understanding in addressing the sushi chef the Japanese way, but then being "patronizing" (128) in her interaction with him. Emi calls her out on it, saying "See what I mean, Hiro? You're invisible. I'm invisible. We're all invisible. It's just tea, ginger, raw fish, and a credit card" (128). The exchange of cultural materials (food) is just that: an exchange of materials. This exchange does not result in any change in the systems of privilege and dominance, but rather, reinforces them by reducing another culture to a mere commodity. This is only the case however, if one holds the same attitude as the woman who wrongly thinks that Emi is simply making "assumptions about people based on their color" (129). I love how Emi puts her in her place.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
An Orange for Everyone
I am really enjoying this book. I like the individual chapters dedicated to each character and their view of what is happening around them. I am interested very much in the significance of the oranges. There is a moment in each chapter that an orange of some sort comes into play. I started keeping track. What do they stand for? Is it the same for each character? Is it one bigger meaning? Too early to tell but I am following that lead like Gabriel is following the lead of the strange woman with the baby who came on a flight from Mexico with no luggage. Rafaela says something interesting about THE orange, "The tree was a sorry one, and so was the orange. Rafaela knew it was an orange that should not have been" (11). That is telling. Why is it an orange that should not have been? Was it out of season?
That Emi is a firecracker isn't she? But Arcangel is the most fascinating person to me so far (and maybe Buzzworm). I marked where he had the appearance of wings as Aryana mentioned. Also in that paragraph they don't only mention Marquez. Did anyone else notice, "He performed for the rich, the famous, and the infamous; for household names: fro Che in Bolivia, for Eva Peron, for Pele, for Pinochet, and Allende before that..." (48). What an interesting way to introduce magical realism into the story. The next breath of Yamashita is describing a martini party with Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Arcanagel. I loved it. Speaking of Arcangel; not only did he grow wings but he had a dream about an orange and then moved an entire truck of oranges with just a couple steel hooks inserted into his torso!
Buzzworm is my favorite too. I loved the descriptions of the palm trees and his hood. He has his own experience with an orange purchased from a woman vending goods on the street in his neighborhood. He then saw a young man being shot at but the bullets bent around him and he gave the man a watch and his orange.
One last thing I noticed was that the reason for the Porsche accident was the two men peeling and eating oranges!
I am interested to see what happens to the symphony now that the orchestra is a giant crater of a highway from the propane explosion...we shall see.
WELCOME SHANZY!
We have a new member of our group. She is a Drama student and has been at North since 2008. She picked up her book yesterday so expect to see some blogging from her before the meeting. Everyone say hi!
That Emi is a firecracker isn't she? But Arcangel is the most fascinating person to me so far (and maybe Buzzworm). I marked where he had the appearance of wings as Aryana mentioned. Also in that paragraph they don't only mention Marquez. Did anyone else notice, "He performed for the rich, the famous, and the infamous; for household names: fro Che in Bolivia, for Eva Peron, for Pele, for Pinochet, and Allende before that..." (48). What an interesting way to introduce magical realism into the story. The next breath of Yamashita is describing a martini party with Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Arcanagel. I loved it. Speaking of Arcangel; not only did he grow wings but he had a dream about an orange and then moved an entire truck of oranges with just a couple steel hooks inserted into his torso!
Buzzworm is my favorite too. I loved the descriptions of the palm trees and his hood. He has his own experience with an orange purchased from a woman vending goods on the street in his neighborhood. He then saw a young man being shot at but the bullets bent around him and he gave the man a watch and his orange.
One last thing I noticed was that the reason for the Porsche accident was the two men peeling and eating oranges!
I am interested to see what happens to the symphony now that the orchestra is a giant crater of a highway from the propane explosion...we shall see.
WELCOME SHANZY!
We have a new member of our group. She is a Drama student and has been at North since 2008. She picked up her book yesterday so expect to see some blogging from her before the meeting. Everyone say hi!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Blog 1, thoughts
So far I'm noting only small doses of magical realism for this book, as compared to the last. We see strange occurrences and an especially powerful orange. To me it seems to be more of a light addition to true fiction, creative story telling with characters who may have internal voices, powers, or intuitions that lead them to.. situations we won't know until later in the book.
I'm kind of feeling that any book could be considered magical realism, so long as it is a mostly realistic story with a few physically impossible things happening. Which is most fiction stories, isn't it?
I like the style of the book so far, short vignettes that show each perspective. I've seen this often used in books or movies, and it is the most fun way to view a story. All the characters with independent chapters all connected in some way.
Buzzworm is a fun character, but the only characters I have found myself following and interested in have been Emi and Gabriel. Perhaps because they seem the most human. And they seem a bit difficult to predict.
The orange is kind of freaky. So the orange trees are a line that somehow have connected themselves to the Tropic of Cancer. And the orange, the child of the last tree, created this line. The orange has been moved, and the tropic of cancer is apparently moving with it, changing the weather etc. That's what I got out of it so far.
I'm kind of feeling that any book could be considered magical realism, so long as it is a mostly realistic story with a few physically impossible things happening. Which is most fiction stories, isn't it?
I like the style of the book so far, short vignettes that show each perspective. I've seen this often used in books or movies, and it is the most fun way to view a story. All the characters with independent chapters all connected in some way.
Buzzworm is a fun character, but the only characters I have found myself following and interested in have been Emi and Gabriel. Perhaps because they seem the most human. And they seem a bit difficult to predict.
The orange is kind of freaky. So the orange trees are a line that somehow have connected themselves to the Tropic of Cancer. And the orange, the child of the last tree, created this line. The orange has been moved, and the tropic of cancer is apparently moving with it, changing the weather etc. That's what I got out of it so far.
Clever Reference & Politics of Location
So in keeping with building our amorphous definition of magical realism, Yamashita's clever reference to Gabriel Garcia Marquez stands out. (48) In the midst of describing Arcangel's performance art piece in which he grows wings while sitting in a cage, Yamashita casually tells us that amidst a shower of martini olives and little toasts topped with ceviche, Arcangel stands and spreads his magnificent wings, amazing a patron who turns to a suddenly absent Marquez. And that's it. On to next weird scene in which Arcangel has lost his wings because he's playing a prophet predicting doom in fifty-two year cycles. So here is magical realism being visited by its founding father who disappears without comment.
The other riff that caught my attention was one on the politics of place embodied by Manzanar recycling sound with the tip of his invisible baton from atop a freeway overpass. Creating air maps out of music that is the rush and rumble of freeway traffic and charting the veins and sinews of the earth, the "very geology of the land" running deep beneath the human generated noise which is Manzanar's symphony. (56, 57). This passage bears witness to Manzanar walking one day out of his grounded life as a surgeon and straight into the scavenging, itinerant life of an insect, living in and making meaning out of residue.
The other riff that caught my attention was one on the politics of place embodied by Manzanar recycling sound with the tip of his invisible baton from atop a freeway overpass. Creating air maps out of music that is the rush and rumble of freeway traffic and charting the veins and sinews of the earth, the "very geology of the land" running deep beneath the human generated noise which is Manzanar's symphony. (56, 57). This passage bears witness to Manzanar walking one day out of his grounded life as a surgeon and straight into the scavenging, itinerant life of an insect, living in and making meaning out of residue.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
"END BOOK" MEETING DATE CHANGED
Hi All!
The "End Book" Meeting for Tropic of Orange will be held on Friady the 25th of February at 3:30 pm and concluding around 5 p.m. The room is TBD, but expect it to be in the usual CC3345 until otherwise noted.
-Victoria, President
The "End Book" Meeting for Tropic of Orange will be held on Friady the 25th of February at 3:30 pm and concluding around 5 p.m. The room is TBD, but expect it to be in the usual CC3345 until otherwise noted.
-Victoria, President
Monday, January 31, 2011
THANK YOU!
Thank you to Aryana, Alyssa, Kevin, Tanya, and Vicki B. for coming to our first "End Book" meeting. We had a great discussion about Spirits and learned an immense amount of information about L.A. in the 90's, transnationalism, and NAFTA. Look for an update to the blog site sometime this week (before the first Friday post). If there are any stragglers from the first book who are interested in continuing with the club, but could not make it to the meeting, please email me and I will get you in touch with Aryana so you can pick up a book and an information packet. Thanks again. It is nice to have a strong core ready to peel apart the layers of our new citrus fruit!
-Victoria,
President
-Victoria,
President
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)