Uncle Remus and Brer Rabbit- how they do take me back. I realize it’s a rarity, but I grew up hearing these stories. I am from the Deep South, went to a small country school, so small that our teachers were our neighbors and/or our relatives. When a teacher needed a substitute, she more than likely called Miss Bernice. We all loved Miss Bernice, because she told us stories all day long. She was into her late seventies when she stopped working, but she was as clear as a bell when she told us about Brer Rabbit and the other animals, or if we were older, Laura Ingalls and her family.
It wasn’t until I was older that I realized that the initial setting of those stories was not politically correct by today’s standards, and I completely understand why… but at no time when we heard them were we ever told anything about slavery or anything along those lines. Uncle Remus was just a man to us. We liked the stories for what they were, and because we spoke “a little country” ourselves, we didn’t think anything about the animals doing it. They were "our" Aesop’s Fables, much more relevant to us because we could “see” that rabbit in a briar patch, “hear” the familiar twang in the voices.
"Free Joe" was a completely different type of story that I had not read from Harris before. It was a moving piece, one that really seemed before its time. It reminded me of Twain’s writing, in that it had a message about slavery not being all that people thought it was; it offered up what had to be new and certainly unpopular ideas. Free Joe’s freedom brought him no measure of happiness, as he was an island unto himself. Other slaves did not want him around, because they were jealous, and because their owners feared his influence. Wealthy whites did not want him around because it was the South, and they had no use for him. Joe had to bend his pride and talk to the only people who would have him, the “poor white trash”, those who he would have never spoken to when he was a slave. He did so only because he was desperate. I felt sorry for Joe, because he lived most of life under the rule of someone else, and when finally got his freedom, he didn’t have the faculties, or the wherewithal, to do anything with it. He was so consumed with concern and love for his wife, that he died waiting for her.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Bierce's "Owl Creek Bridge"
Wow. Very dark writing for 1890, I really didn’t expect it. Of course, I didn’t see the end of the “Sixth Sense” coming either, so there you go. It was not my favorite of this week’s list. The first part of the first section, on the railroad bridge was so full of detail about the planks and the soldiers, etc., it was a little dizzying. Too much. Then it settled into the hanging, and his falling…
The second section took a step backwards in time, and that’s where we see why the man, Peyton Farquhar, is being hanged in the first place. He was tricked by a spy into trying to “interfere with the railroad”. His wife is seen, and we see that his life is a very comfortable one, as a wealthy planter. Part III flashes back to the present and Peyton seemingly falls to his death, only to have the rope break. He struggles with the bindings, escapes, and is shot at by the troops. He makes his way through the water and eventually the woods until he safely home. His neck is in pain, his throat is swollen, but he is home. His lovely wife is waiting for him… beautiful wife, home at last, all that he has waited for is there, and he just has to reach out...
Snap! Peyton had the longest and weirdest “life-flashed-before-my-eyes” moment ever recorded. Very odd, and I suppose very influential on the numerous other books and movies that have come out in the last 120 years. It is an interesting concept, what we think and hear and feel in those seconds before we die.
The second section took a step backwards in time, and that’s where we see why the man, Peyton Farquhar, is being hanged in the first place. He was tricked by a spy into trying to “interfere with the railroad”. His wife is seen, and we see that his life is a very comfortable one, as a wealthy planter. Part III flashes back to the present and Peyton seemingly falls to his death, only to have the rope break. He struggles with the bindings, escapes, and is shot at by the troops. He makes his way through the water and eventually the woods until he safely home. His neck is in pain, his throat is swollen, but he is home. His lovely wife is waiting for him… beautiful wife, home at last, all that he has waited for is there, and he just has to reach out...
Snap! Peyton had the longest and weirdest “life-flashed-before-my-eyes” moment ever recorded. Very odd, and I suppose very influential on the numerous other books and movies that have come out in the last 120 years. It is an interesting concept, what we think and hear and feel in those seconds before we die.
Tennessee's Partner
“Tennessee’s Partner” was a great piece. I could definitely see the influence on the whole western genre, both novels and movies. I was a little surprised at the tale of the wife, and her following indiscretions with Tennessee, et al, especially considering the date of the story. Trouble is as trouble does they say, and Tennessee gets into trouble when he attempts to rob someone. When Tennessee is at his trial before his peers, Tennessee’s Partner burst in with a bag of Tennessee’s Partner seems like a simple man, quiet and uncomplicated, and his partner, Tennessee seems like a trouble-maker.
Trouble is a trouble does, as they say, and when Tennessee attempts to rob someone, he hunted down and hauled before a jury of his peers. Tennessee’s Partner interrupts the proceeding with a simple declaration, “It ain’t for me to say anything agin’ him”. I think he was hurt that his partner tried to rob someone rather than come to him for help, but he was not willing to see him die for it. He had forgiven him for the wife incident, and he already stated that they didn’t always agree, but he was willing to put down all the money he had to free his partner. In his mind, the justice system had acted just like Tennessee- they hunted him and caught him, just as he did his victim; in Tennessee’ Partner’s eyes, they should be equal, and the money would everything over the top. He did not understand that gold and money were not acceptable in such an offense, and it was actually seen as a bribe- it hurt his friend’s chances.
There was much care taken to prepare the coffin for Tennessee, and Tennessee’s Partner wanted others to share in the funeral experience, even if he didn’t exactly shout it. He was a simple man, and it was probably difficult for him to bury his friend and contemplate life without him. The end was sad, but fitting, as they were “partners” once again, meeting together on their journey.
Trouble is a trouble does, as they say, and when Tennessee attempts to rob someone, he hunted down and hauled before a jury of his peers. Tennessee’s Partner interrupts the proceeding with a simple declaration, “It ain’t for me to say anything agin’ him”. I think he was hurt that his partner tried to rob someone rather than come to him for help, but he was not willing to see him die for it. He had forgiven him for the wife incident, and he already stated that they didn’t always agree, but he was willing to put down all the money he had to free his partner. In his mind, the justice system had acted just like Tennessee- they hunted him and caught him, just as he did his victim; in Tennessee’ Partner’s eyes, they should be equal, and the money would everything over the top. He did not understand that gold and money were not acceptable in such an offense, and it was actually seen as a bribe- it hurt his friend’s chances.
There was much care taken to prepare the coffin for Tennessee, and Tennessee’s Partner wanted others to share in the funeral experience, even if he didn’t exactly shout it. He was a simple man, and it was probably difficult for him to bury his friend and contemplate life without him. The end was sad, but fitting, as they were “partners” once again, meeting together on their journey.
Editha
I found Howell’s Editha to be disturbing, and when thought of in a more timely setting, strangely unsettling. We see Editha in love, with a man who had once considered the ministry. Poor Editha is concerned that her suitor has not properly earned her affections, because she gave them away, as she said without “thinking”. When she encouraged him to go to war, she did so in the hopes that he will be a Hero, not only for her but for God and country too. She knows that he does not believe in war, and uses the “order of Providence” to try and persuade him, and perhaps herself, that this war is right. When he deferred to her will, she was overcome with emotion, not by his sacrifice, but by the fact that he humbled himself to her. Her letter was foolishness, a girl’s emotions and pride all twisted up by the news of the day. Instead of being a true love, she convinced someone who didn’t believe in war to go off in participate in it.
The trip to George’s mother was sad. I think Editha was mourning George as school-girl would, still not comprehending that he only went because of her. She was wallowing in her grief as only a Victorian widow could. Meeting the mother was a wake-up call that she desperately needed, but only slightly answered— she never thought she was sending him to his death, she just thought he would come back a hero; she did not understand the mother’s relief that George didn’t kill any other innocent boys like himself. I think Editha was spoiled and far removed from the normal world, and had no sense of reality in sending out the man she was supposed to love to face the horrors of war. A dedicated sense of pride and nationalism is wonderful thing, but it shouldn’t overshadow personal conviction and moral stance, nor should it stand in the way of true love.
The trip to George’s mother was sad. I think Editha was mourning George as school-girl would, still not comprehending that he only went because of her. She was wallowing in her grief as only a Victorian widow could. Meeting the mother was a wake-up call that she desperately needed, but only slightly answered— she never thought she was sending him to his death, she just thought he would come back a hero; she did not understand the mother’s relief that George didn’t kill any other innocent boys like himself. I think Editha was spoiled and far removed from the normal world, and had no sense of reality in sending out the man she was supposed to love to face the horrors of war. A dedicated sense of pride and nationalism is wonderful thing, but it shouldn’t overshadow personal conviction and moral stance, nor should it stand in the way of true love.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Emily Dickenson
Well, I have say that I truly admire the imagination and creativity in Miss Emily Dickinson. She must have felt strange and out-of-place knowing that she had that ability, and no real outlet for it. I recognize her extraordinary gifts and talents, but I have to say, her poems do not speak to me. It may be because I am more of a "left-brain" person and her poems are very free and almost abstract in a way, compared to more formal works. I do not like the irregular rhythms and near rhymes, even when I do find a rhythm in a longer poem, there is always one line that is off, and it drives me crazy.
There are some poems that start off so beautifully, but then end oddly or seem to go nowhere, such as number 670. Perhaps I am just too dense to understand, I don't know. I admire her talent for seeing what I cannot, and for putting into words what others appreciate. I liked the beginnings and the idea of 732: "She rose to his requirement", "To take the honorable work/Of woman and wife", but it felt like ended oddly to me. She seems to have a certain penchant for death, and with her history of staying at home, it seems like she suffered from some form of depression, like so many writers and poets. For example, no. 49,death; 67, death; 241, death; 258, death; 280, death; 287, 303, 341, 414, 449, 465, 510, and so on... all about death. Truly depressing if you ask me!
There are some poems that start off so beautifully, but then end oddly or seem to go nowhere, such as number 670. Perhaps I am just too dense to understand, I don't know. I admire her talent for seeing what I cannot, and for putting into words what others appreciate. I liked the beginnings and the idea of 732: "She rose to his requirement", "To take the honorable work/Of woman and wife", but it felt like ended oddly to me. She seems to have a certain penchant for death, and with her history of staying at home, it seems like she suffered from some form of depression, like so many writers and poets. For example, no. 49,death; 67, death; 241, death; 258, death; 280, death; 287, 303, 341, 414, 449, 465, 510, and so on... all about death. Truly depressing if you ask me!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
A White Heron
Of this week’s readings, Sarah Orne Jewett’s “White Heron” was perhaps my favorite. It was a short story, and yet it was full of so much. Jewett’s ability to describe her characters and the region was wonderful, and I truly felt like I was there. I am familiar with salt-water marshes (although not those in the Northeast) and I could almost smell the brackish water. I loved the description of the obstinate old cow, Mistress Moolly. My own grandmother had a cow just like her.
The author was able to write with great detail about the girl’s thoughts and emotions. We are very happy when we learn the young Sylvia has come away from the dirty city to the beautiful country to live with her grandmother. The attention to detail in the description of the landscape and the birds and other animals was amazing. Each bird call or flutter of moth wings caught my attention. The grandmother and young man were not captured in such detail; Sylvia is the star of this story, rightfully so. She decided to help the young bird-watcher, and to her dismay, she saw her bird-friends go to their deaths. At his request Sylvia finally located the White Heron, and along the way somehow found herself, as she stood atop the tall tree. When she came down, and went back to the cottage, Sylvia found she was unable to give up the secret that would mean the heron’s death— because she felt like a part of the forest, like she finally belonged.
The author was able to write with great detail about the girl’s thoughts and emotions. We are very happy when we learn the young Sylvia has come away from the dirty city to the beautiful country to live with her grandmother. The attention to detail in the description of the landscape and the birds and other animals was amazing. Each bird call or flutter of moth wings caught my attention. The grandmother and young man were not captured in such detail; Sylvia is the star of this story, rightfully so. She decided to help the young bird-watcher, and to her dismay, she saw her bird-friends go to their deaths. At his request Sylvia finally located the White Heron, and along the way somehow found herself, as she stood atop the tall tree. When she came down, and went back to the cottage, Sylvia found she was unable to give up the secret that would mean the heron’s death— because she felt like a part of the forest, like she finally belonged.
A New England Nun
I found Mary Freeman’s story “A New England Nun” quite interesting. I thought the characters were very practical and realistic, as the short biography of her suggested they might be. After reading that she was remembered for recording the old ways of New England villages, I started the story thinking it would be rich in scenery and other regionally inspired imagery, but in truth it did not seem to be any different than any other rural setting. I appreciate the way she took such care in the intricate details with which Louisa Ellis went about her daily routines; I could almost see her as she sat at her window, sewing her seams and watching the laborers.
Louisa Ellis had a fully established set of routines that made up her days. Her good china, her sewing- with the spools aligned just so, her neatness in gathering currants— she had a ritual of life, almost a religion of solitude that had come about in the time that she had been alone. She needed her space; she needed her things about her to be in order. The thought of Joe intruding into her neat and ordered existence seemed to be upsetting for her. The story is called “A New England Nun”, and we know a nun to be one who not only forsakes marriage, but also dedicates her life to service and devotion. In the end, we see Louisa Ellis willingly give up marriage, partly for Joe and his love for Lily, but also because she knew that she was devoted to solitude and serenity. She could only be happy and satisfied in her little house, with no one to intrude upon her, no one to interrupt her sewing and dusting.
Louisa Ellis had a fully established set of routines that made up her days. Her good china, her sewing- with the spools aligned just so, her neatness in gathering currants— she had a ritual of life, almost a religion of solitude that had come about in the time that she had been alone. She needed her space; she needed her things about her to be in order. The thought of Joe intruding into her neat and ordered existence seemed to be upsetting for her. The story is called “A New England Nun”, and we know a nun to be one who not only forsakes marriage, but also dedicates her life to service and devotion. In the end, we see Louisa Ellis willingly give up marriage, partly for Joe and his love for Lily, but also because she knew that she was devoted to solitude and serenity. She could only be happy and satisfied in her little house, with no one to intrude upon her, no one to interrupt her sewing and dusting.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Huck Finn
After almost thirty years, I have finally finished the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. What started as a rainy weekend project was never finished; my middle-school attention span could not hold out against the dialects, the constant stream of characters, etc. I gave up. My class did take a field trip to see the movie, but the reels were put in incorrectly, so everything was out of sequence!
I have read other Twain works over the years, and must admit that my distaste for heavy dialects in written form remains, but I did enjoy finishing Huckleberry’s story. I like the wit and humor in Mark Twain’s writing, and especially the deftness with which he manages to insert it into the story. Anytime a person boasts of his own intelligence while appearing to have none, I’m a fan.
Twain made clear his views on slavery and those who believed in it; by making those characters “dumber” than they thought they were, he hoped to make us see that their beliefs and actions are the same- not as smart as they appear to be. Huck spoke to and about Jim as an inferior, but we see many times that Huck did not know what he was talking about- grudgingly, Huck began to see that Jim was smarter than he thought. Huck was not clear on religion, because he was not given a clear vision of it, only “do this” and “don’t do that”; Twain used Huck’s adventures and subsequent spiritual growth on the river to show that religious training is not the only way to morals and values. I feel that Twain had much to say on the subject of anti-slavery, by giving Jim a big heart, and making him so fatherly to Huck- Huck would not have survived without him. But it seems that he was either too close to the time period or perhaps not far enough away to be completely objective. While I know his choice of words was completely within the context of the time period, I feel like he often treated Jim like a comedic character. I did not enjoy the last part of the story, as it felt like Huck had completely regressed into a minor character in another book; all of the steam and momentum that had built up was lost for me.
The river and the outdoors will always be a symbol of freedom; while not as bad as Jim being trapped by slavery, Huck felt confined when he was being “civilized”, and only when they were out and on the river did they feel free. At the end of the story, when Jim was finally free and he once again had a family to claim his own, Huck was searching out for wide spaces again, for freedom.
I have read other Twain works over the years, and must admit that my distaste for heavy dialects in written form remains, but I did enjoy finishing Huckleberry’s story. I like the wit and humor in Mark Twain’s writing, and especially the deftness with which he manages to insert it into the story. Anytime a person boasts of his own intelligence while appearing to have none, I’m a fan.
Twain made clear his views on slavery and those who believed in it; by making those characters “dumber” than they thought they were, he hoped to make us see that their beliefs and actions are the same- not as smart as they appear to be. Huck spoke to and about Jim as an inferior, but we see many times that Huck did not know what he was talking about- grudgingly, Huck began to see that Jim was smarter than he thought. Huck was not clear on religion, because he was not given a clear vision of it, only “do this” and “don’t do that”; Twain used Huck’s adventures and subsequent spiritual growth on the river to show that religious training is not the only way to morals and values. I feel that Twain had much to say on the subject of anti-slavery, by giving Jim a big heart, and making him so fatherly to Huck- Huck would not have survived without him. But it seems that he was either too close to the time period or perhaps not far enough away to be completely objective. While I know his choice of words was completely within the context of the time period, I feel like he often treated Jim like a comedic character. I did not enjoy the last part of the story, as it felt like Huck had completely regressed into a minor character in another book; all of the steam and momentum that had built up was lost for me.
The river and the outdoors will always be a symbol of freedom; while not as bad as Jim being trapped by slavery, Huck felt confined when he was being “civilized”, and only when they were out and on the river did they feel free. At the end of the story, when Jim was finally free and he once again had a family to claim his own, Huck was searching out for wide spaces again, for freedom.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
First Post
Hi everyone! I am looking forward to this class, although I am a bit afraid of the amount of writing we have to do. I know, I know, it's part of it, but my brain just takes a while to adjust! I am an avid reader, when I don't have tons of school work to read, that is.
I have what could be described as eclectic reading tastes. I read just about everything but westerns and "bodice-ripper" romances!
I grew up in a reading household, and for the most part, my children (now mostly grown) are readers as well. I am pleased to say that they are also extremely articulate and they are very good writers- reading definitely pays off!
What I have seen so far of the reading list is intriguing; some of it is familiar, some of it is daunting. Either way, I can honestly say I won't be bored! Good luck!
I have what could be described as eclectic reading tastes. I read just about everything but westerns and "bodice-ripper" romances!
I grew up in a reading household, and for the most part, my children (now mostly grown) are readers as well. I am pleased to say that they are also extremely articulate and they are very good writers- reading definitely pays off!
What I have seen so far of the reading list is intriguing; some of it is familiar, some of it is daunting. Either way, I can honestly say I won't be bored! Good luck!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)