Art Spiegelman’s graphic novel Maus fascinated me. While I have had experience with Holocaust survival stories before, the use of the graphic novel format and the cleverly chosen personification of the mice, cats, and pigs as central characters within the story was an interesting addition to the story. Spiegelman was able to take a known story and make it new. I quickly read through the story and was highly engaged by the text and images.
I thought that Spiegelman’s presentation of the text was very well done. Spiegelman makes the story seem more believable and creditable by placing himself and his father in the text as they interact with one another through both the retelling of his father’s story and their relationships with each other in the present. By transitioning back and forth between the retelling of his father’s life during the years preceding and during the onset of WWII he is able to illustrate how surviving the war has shaped his father and to show the strains of those effects on both their lives. The opening images of Spiegelman crying home to his father about his friends was particularly interesting. He says, “Friends? Yours Friends? If you lock them together in a room with no food for a week….then you could see what is it, friends!” (6). Later in the text, Spiegelman tries to justify his father’s pack-rat tendencies by pointing out that the need to horde might be a result of his past experiences. I think this is an interesting point to note from his life and it helped to take the story farther—from just the story of his survival to the story of his life long after his trials ended.
I am glad that the story started before the beginning of the war with the relationship between Spiegelman’s mother and father. During the years that they were courting, the National Socialist Party was gaining power and taking control of Germany. It was interesting to read about the day-to-day life in Poland and the “rumors” they heard about the Germans. For them the Nazi’s were a piece of the background in Europe and they had no idea what consequences were about to come their way.
I thought Spiegelman Sr.’s account of life in Poland during the beginning years of the war was incredibly insightful. He really captured the complexity of the individuals around him. I thought it said a lot about human nature to note how people reacted during the war. Come people were willing to illegally harbor runaway Jews, others were more than willing to rat each other out—both Polish and Jewish citizens alike. I think people show their true colors in desperate situations and it was amazing to see how selfish or selfless people became within the book. Reading how people changed—for example, the maid who was once a part of the Spiegelman family—it made me think about how I would react to being put in the different situations presented in the book. I would like to think that I would be able to do the right thing, no matter what, but the story definitely makes you give it a serious thought.
I think the presentation of the book and the story within it can help make the tragedy of the Holocaust more engaging for anyone who reads it. I enjoyed puzzling out my own interpretation of why Spiegelman chose to use animals within the story. The illustrations add so much to the story. It’s amazing how the detailed illustrations are able to capture the emotions of the characters within the story; the black and white presentation adds to the tragic circumstances of the characters and makes their plight that much more serious. Through the images I was able to read the expressions of the character’s faces the same way I read both the dialogue and text boxes within the frames themselves. I doing this I was able to have a better understanding of how Spiegelman Sr.’s life in Poland. Overall, I love how the book is able to take a serious part of our past and present it in a way that is informative, engaging, and moving despite its use of illustrations.
Showing posts with label CI 5442: Choice Reading Response. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CI 5442: Choice Reading Response. Show all posts
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
CI 5442: Biography/Memoir Response #2
I was hesitant as to what I would encounter while reading Ishmael Beah’s memoir A Long Way Gone but despite the horrific and tragic circumstances of Beah’s life growing up within a war torn Sierra Leone, in the end he proves that it is possible to overcome the past and look to the future. The book takes readers through Beah’s experiences; we see evidence of his troubled yet happy life with his brother and friends, the terrifying travels of his band of boys, the initiation into the life of a boy soldier, the violent and conscious-less life of a soldier, the jerk back to boyhood, and the final struggle to leave all the past behind in order to reach a brighter future. These different existences combine into Beah’s present; “These days I live in three worlds: my dreams, and the experiences of my new life, which trigger memories from the past” (20).
Throughout the book I followed the theme of family and belonging, as it played such an important part in the actions and events within the story. Beah is driven in the beginning of the book by his desire to find his family and creates a temporary family with his brother and his friends. When he is separated from them, the loneliness is difficult for him to bear but he soon joins another group of boys—boys who become his family and the members of his unit once he joins with the army forces. After he is pulled away from active duty, Beah is forced to adjust his family to meet his new circumstances. His past catches up with him and he laments his lack of true family; “I feel as if there is nothing left for me to live for….I have no family, it is just me. No one will be able to tell stories about my childhood” (167). He finds new family in Esther and is reunited with a long lost uncle who brings him into his makeshift family; suddenly, he has a new family and more stable existence and even though this existence is shattered again, Beah keeps moving forward in search of a more hopeful existence with families to come.
The hope that pushes Beah on during the longs months wandering the forest, the time spent as a soldier, and the months after his rehabilitation illustrate how it is that hope can be both inspiring and beautiful or driving and twisted. It is the hope in finding his family that inspires Beah to keep surviving in his never ending search for safety and news about his family, but it is also hope that motivates him to kill the rebels—the hope for successfully finding and meting out revenge. The different effects of hope mirror the ways in which it is used by Beah and the people around him. Beah uses hope to keep him moving forward while the army uses hope to twist the thoughts of their boy soldiers in looking to revenge the past. I was horrified at the seemingly easy task of the army to brainwash boys into fighting. When training the boys, they even cast the targets in ways that make the boys think only of what the rebels have cost them; “Over and over in our training he would say the same sentence: Visualize the enemy, the rebels who killed your parents, your family, and those who are responsible for everything that has happened to you” (112).
The hardest parts of the book for me to comprehend were the complete lawlessness of the soldiers. Based on the information within the book, it seems as though the rebel forces went from village to village terrorizing and murdering the people before forcing men and boys to join them. Later in the book, we see the army forces—with Beah—doing the same. Beah recounts how they entered a village occupied by rebels and killed all the rebels as well as anyone they saw. In the end they realize their mistake for killing every member of the village because there was no one to transport the supplies from the village to their base camp. It’s remarkable to think that given their circumstances and the intense need for revenge—on both sides of the fighting—that the soldiers on either side wouldn’t be able to see how they were perpetuating the violence done to innocent villagers, leading to more escapees being turned to one side or the other. It isn’t until long after his rehabilitation that Beah is able to see this for himself. He recounts the endless circumnavigation of the revenge cycle and the need for an end to such perpetuating violence and death.
Something that really stuck out to me in the book were the actions of the boys and the soldiers. Throughout the book Beah and his friends “high-five” one another for any success or happiness, as the story continues, so do the high-fives. Beah and his friends high-five when they find money to spend at a market to buy food, rebel soldiers high-five when they successfully destroy three villages in the course of several hours, and Beah and his unit high-five when they successfully take over a small village. The juvenile gesture that is used to illustrate a job well done and to create a sense of camaraderie is defiled by its use for such perverse actions. The high-fives administered by the soldiers only served to illustrate their youth or their view of the war as nothing more than a type of game. Every time a high-five appeared later in the text I would cringe from the context in which the celebratory mark was recognizing. The familiarity of the gesture brought its placement within the narrative that much more close to home for me. It was a relief toward the end of the book to see the high-five be once more associated boyhood as Mohamed is doing the “running man and singing ‘Here Comes the Hammer’” (170).
After his rehabilitation, I was amazed at Beah’s ability to regain a sense of clarity about his life and to come to terms with his past actions—at least to some degree. At first he is angry and defiant toward those trying to help him, but eventually he takes their words to heart when they say, “None of these things are your fault” (165). Once he internalizes this, he is able to see the past more clearly. His speech at the UN Economic and Social Council was incredibly intelligent and moving. It is in this speech that he tells how boys become seduced and forced to become soldiers due to, “starvation, the loss of our families, and the need to feel safe and be part of something when all else has broken down” (199). He later claims that his experiences have taught him the dangers of revenge and how it “will never come to an end” (199).
The end of the book was heartbreaking to me. After all Beah had been through, the war finds him again. He loses his uncle and is forced to flee Sierra Leone. It seems as though the world is set against him with every step he takes, but in the end I felt confident that he would rise to the challenge and find family again in better circumstances. I was pleased to read in his note at the end of the text that he was reunited with some of his friends and family and that he was able to start a new family with kind people in New York. I think Beah’s memoir is an eye-opening and stunning text everyone should read—it truly gets to the heart of what it means to be human.
Throughout the book I followed the theme of family and belonging, as it played such an important part in the actions and events within the story. Beah is driven in the beginning of the book by his desire to find his family and creates a temporary family with his brother and his friends. When he is separated from them, the loneliness is difficult for him to bear but he soon joins another group of boys—boys who become his family and the members of his unit once he joins with the army forces. After he is pulled away from active duty, Beah is forced to adjust his family to meet his new circumstances. His past catches up with him and he laments his lack of true family; “I feel as if there is nothing left for me to live for….I have no family, it is just me. No one will be able to tell stories about my childhood” (167). He finds new family in Esther and is reunited with a long lost uncle who brings him into his makeshift family; suddenly, he has a new family and more stable existence and even though this existence is shattered again, Beah keeps moving forward in search of a more hopeful existence with families to come.
The hope that pushes Beah on during the longs months wandering the forest, the time spent as a soldier, and the months after his rehabilitation illustrate how it is that hope can be both inspiring and beautiful or driving and twisted. It is the hope in finding his family that inspires Beah to keep surviving in his never ending search for safety and news about his family, but it is also hope that motivates him to kill the rebels—the hope for successfully finding and meting out revenge. The different effects of hope mirror the ways in which it is used by Beah and the people around him. Beah uses hope to keep him moving forward while the army uses hope to twist the thoughts of their boy soldiers in looking to revenge the past. I was horrified at the seemingly easy task of the army to brainwash boys into fighting. When training the boys, they even cast the targets in ways that make the boys think only of what the rebels have cost them; “Over and over in our training he would say the same sentence: Visualize the enemy, the rebels who killed your parents, your family, and those who are responsible for everything that has happened to you” (112).
The hardest parts of the book for me to comprehend were the complete lawlessness of the soldiers. Based on the information within the book, it seems as though the rebel forces went from village to village terrorizing and murdering the people before forcing men and boys to join them. Later in the book, we see the army forces—with Beah—doing the same. Beah recounts how they entered a village occupied by rebels and killed all the rebels as well as anyone they saw. In the end they realize their mistake for killing every member of the village because there was no one to transport the supplies from the village to their base camp. It’s remarkable to think that given their circumstances and the intense need for revenge—on both sides of the fighting—that the soldiers on either side wouldn’t be able to see how they were perpetuating the violence done to innocent villagers, leading to more escapees being turned to one side or the other. It isn’t until long after his rehabilitation that Beah is able to see this for himself. He recounts the endless circumnavigation of the revenge cycle and the need for an end to such perpetuating violence and death.
Something that really stuck out to me in the book were the actions of the boys and the soldiers. Throughout the book Beah and his friends “high-five” one another for any success or happiness, as the story continues, so do the high-fives. Beah and his friends high-five when they find money to spend at a market to buy food, rebel soldiers high-five when they successfully destroy three villages in the course of several hours, and Beah and his unit high-five when they successfully take over a small village. The juvenile gesture that is used to illustrate a job well done and to create a sense of camaraderie is defiled by its use for such perverse actions. The high-fives administered by the soldiers only served to illustrate their youth or their view of the war as nothing more than a type of game. Every time a high-five appeared later in the text I would cringe from the context in which the celebratory mark was recognizing. The familiarity of the gesture brought its placement within the narrative that much more close to home for me. It was a relief toward the end of the book to see the high-five be once more associated boyhood as Mohamed is doing the “running man and singing ‘Here Comes the Hammer’” (170).
After his rehabilitation, I was amazed at Beah’s ability to regain a sense of clarity about his life and to come to terms with his past actions—at least to some degree. At first he is angry and defiant toward those trying to help him, but eventually he takes their words to heart when they say, “None of these things are your fault” (165). Once he internalizes this, he is able to see the past more clearly. His speech at the UN Economic and Social Council was incredibly intelligent and moving. It is in this speech that he tells how boys become seduced and forced to become soldiers due to, “starvation, the loss of our families, and the need to feel safe and be part of something when all else has broken down” (199). He later claims that his experiences have taught him the dangers of revenge and how it “will never come to an end” (199).
The end of the book was heartbreaking to me. After all Beah had been through, the war finds him again. He loses his uncle and is forced to flee Sierra Leone. It seems as though the world is set against him with every step he takes, but in the end I felt confident that he would rise to the challenge and find family again in better circumstances. I was pleased to read in his note at the end of the text that he was reunited with some of his friends and family and that he was able to start a new family with kind people in New York. I think Beah’s memoir is an eye-opening and stunning text everyone should read—it truly gets to the heart of what it means to be human.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
CI 5442: Science Fiction Response #2
Alright, The Giver. I read this book in fifth grade and I hated it. I admit that part of this might have been caused by my mother who expressed her distaste for the book to me when she found out that I was reading it. Because of this and the fact that everyone just loves I thought I would read it again. Reading it now I can see why people like it, but it still makes me uncomfortable. I think Jonas is a great character and I was relieved when both he and the Giver decide to force emotions back into the community but their society bothers me so much. I think my discomfort with science fiction is my apprehension that dystopian societies could be created or that they are on their way to being built already.
Jonas is the one redeeming character in the book for me—the Giver to a lesser extent. Jonas thinks carefully about his words throughout the text illustrating a connection with language that others don’t seem to possess. Even when he is receiving memories from the Giver he is attuned to his lack of language. He grasps the power of words such as warmth, family, grandparents, and love as well as more negative and painful words like war, pain, and death. For the amount of emphasis his community places on the precision of language, it is remarkable how much they miss with the lack of memories and real feelings. Jonas asks his parents his parents if they love him and their response illustrates the lack of depth within their emotions and actions within the community. His father replies, “You of all people. Precision of language, please!” while his mother explains:
Your father means that you used a very generalized word, so meaningless that it’s become almost obsolete….our community can’t function smoothly if people don’t use precise language. You could ask, ‘Do you enjoy me?’ The answer is ‘Yes’….Do you understand why it’s inappropriate to use a word like ‘love’? (127)
It’s sad to think that a word as powerful as love could be reduced to mere “enjoyment” and “pride” the way Jonas’ parents describe their affection for him and his sister. I think that Lowry is able to provide readers with a glimpse into a bleak existence without emotions by emphasizing the power of language through Jonas.
Clearly language is tied to emotion, but as Jonas learns, both emotion and language are firmly grounded in memory. A powerful moment for me in the text was when Jonas attempts to rejoin his childhood friends in a game of “good guy” versus “bad guy.” A game he had played many times, yet, “He never recognized it before as a game of war” (133). He pleads with his friends to stop the game saying, “You had no way of knowing this. I didn’t know it myself until recently. But it’s a cruel game” (134). His friends don’t have the same memories as Jonas and therefore they don’t understand. It’s like when you are a kid and you hear a bad word for the first time and then you go around using it because you don’t know what it means and why it is inappropriate.
My least favorite part in the book is when Jonas sees his father “releasing” a newly born infant because it is the smaller of two identical twins. I was as horrified as Jonas to “see” the needle being driven into the smaller infants head until his struggles ceased. For Jonas’ father, it isn’t a big deal and he dumps the baby into something resembling “the same sort of chute into which trash was deposited at school” (150). That is exactly the image that killed this book for me when I was younger and even reading it again it gives me chills. I think Lowry wanted to illustrate the disconnect achieved by the members in society because of their lack of memories and feelings—attributes that define our species and set us apart from other creatures. Without these elements humans become nothing more than empty shells.
I was so relieved when Jonas inspires the Giver to understand the importance of memories and the need to release them back into the community. Although the pair knows that releasing the memories will be difficult and painful for the community, but in the end the memories will release the community from their meaningless and empty existence. The Giver notes that memories “are forever” and need to be shared (144). He notes that the people will be in great need of him once the memories are returned to them and, therefore, he won’t be able to leave with Jonas. He tells Jonas, “The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared” (154). Only through expression and communication can we—as humans—come to terms with experiences, emotions, and events in our lives.
Lowry creates a world that enables readers to see the importance and significance of the entire spectrum of human experiences—from unbelievable suffering and pain to blissful moments of happiness and love. Readers can explore the power of language and memories by entering a dystopian society. The novel explores extreme control in a safe and hypothetical environment—but that doesn’t make it any less disturbing. While the premise of the story still bothers me I will acknowledge that it did make me think about the world and the future; especially in terms of what I can do to prevent such an existence from becoming a reality.
Jonas is the one redeeming character in the book for me—the Giver to a lesser extent. Jonas thinks carefully about his words throughout the text illustrating a connection with language that others don’t seem to possess. Even when he is receiving memories from the Giver he is attuned to his lack of language. He grasps the power of words such as warmth, family, grandparents, and love as well as more negative and painful words like war, pain, and death. For the amount of emphasis his community places on the precision of language, it is remarkable how much they miss with the lack of memories and real feelings. Jonas asks his parents his parents if they love him and their response illustrates the lack of depth within their emotions and actions within the community. His father replies, “You of all people. Precision of language, please!” while his mother explains:
Your father means that you used a very generalized word, so meaningless that it’s become almost obsolete….our community can’t function smoothly if people don’t use precise language. You could ask, ‘Do you enjoy me?’ The answer is ‘Yes’….Do you understand why it’s inappropriate to use a word like ‘love’? (127)
It’s sad to think that a word as powerful as love could be reduced to mere “enjoyment” and “pride” the way Jonas’ parents describe their affection for him and his sister. I think that Lowry is able to provide readers with a glimpse into a bleak existence without emotions by emphasizing the power of language through Jonas.
Clearly language is tied to emotion, but as Jonas learns, both emotion and language are firmly grounded in memory. A powerful moment for me in the text was when Jonas attempts to rejoin his childhood friends in a game of “good guy” versus “bad guy.” A game he had played many times, yet, “He never recognized it before as a game of war” (133). He pleads with his friends to stop the game saying, “You had no way of knowing this. I didn’t know it myself until recently. But it’s a cruel game” (134). His friends don’t have the same memories as Jonas and therefore they don’t understand. It’s like when you are a kid and you hear a bad word for the first time and then you go around using it because you don’t know what it means and why it is inappropriate.
My least favorite part in the book is when Jonas sees his father “releasing” a newly born infant because it is the smaller of two identical twins. I was as horrified as Jonas to “see” the needle being driven into the smaller infants head until his struggles ceased. For Jonas’ father, it isn’t a big deal and he dumps the baby into something resembling “the same sort of chute into which trash was deposited at school” (150). That is exactly the image that killed this book for me when I was younger and even reading it again it gives me chills. I think Lowry wanted to illustrate the disconnect achieved by the members in society because of their lack of memories and feelings—attributes that define our species and set us apart from other creatures. Without these elements humans become nothing more than empty shells.
I was so relieved when Jonas inspires the Giver to understand the importance of memories and the need to release them back into the community. Although the pair knows that releasing the memories will be difficult and painful for the community, but in the end the memories will release the community from their meaningless and empty existence. The Giver notes that memories “are forever” and need to be shared (144). He notes that the people will be in great need of him once the memories are returned to them and, therefore, he won’t be able to leave with Jonas. He tells Jonas, “The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared” (154). Only through expression and communication can we—as humans—come to terms with experiences, emotions, and events in our lives.
Lowry creates a world that enables readers to see the importance and significance of the entire spectrum of human experiences—from unbelievable suffering and pain to blissful moments of happiness and love. Readers can explore the power of language and memories by entering a dystopian society. The novel explores extreme control in a safe and hypothetical environment—but that doesn’t make it any less disturbing. While the premise of the story still bothers me I will acknowledge that it did make me think about the world and the future; especially in terms of what I can do to prevent such an existence from becoming a reality.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
CI 5442: Fantasy Response #2
Being myself an avid fan of Greek and Roman mythology and having read both The Odyssey and The Aeneid—I even translated some of this from the Latin texts—I was intrigued to read Adèle Geras’ novel Troy. While the facts and figures from the text fit within my prior knowledge and understanding of the long siege of Troy, the book itself left me a little disappointed. While there were many elements I enjoyed in the story itself, I had a hard time connecting with the characters in a way that made me actually care for them on a personal level. Part of this might come from my aversion to stories with dramatic love triangles that seem trite, but I also think the number of characters contributed to my disinterest—not that I wanted anything bad to happen to them, but I was as involved in their lives as I wished to be. That being said, let’s talk about the things I did enjoy about the text.
The Gods. I thought the use of the gods and goddesses within the texts was brilliant! I loved the fact that they would come and disclose information about the present or future only to be dismissed as lunatics by the very people they conversed with in Troy. Characters within the text either found themselves completely disregarding the information provided by the gods and then simply forgetting what they heard or acknowledging their presence only to forget it anyway. The only character who was able to instantly recognize, believe, and remember the gods walking among them was Marpessa who’s near death experience seems to have given her some connection with the gods—at least that is my guess for her capabilities. It could also be her belief and continued exposure to them that allows her to recognize the gods when they appear to interfere with the citizens of Troy.
While some might think the constant interference of the gods and the inability of the citizens to remember them doesn’t fit within the text, I think it is the perfect way to not only explain some of the events that have, are, or will take place so that the audience can keep up with the intricacies of the Trojan War. The use of the gods also reinforces the idea that the gods were a constant part of the lives of the Trojans and Greeks alike. As Ares, the god of war, claims, “It’s not as easy as it looks, organizing things. Every battle has a plan, and every death, every wounding, has to be worked out. It’s exhausting, I can tell you. But it’s almost over…this war” (266). Ares goes further to explain that the gods are tired of the war and ready for it to be over, “It’s enough…That’s the feeling on Olympus. It’s all gone on long enough. I had to promise the end was in sight” (266). His presence throughout the text and the work of the other gods in orchestrating or divulging information about the war makes it explicitly clear who is in charge of Fate.
Geras also does an admirable job in showing the humanness of the gods. When the gods were created by the ancient peoples of the Mediterranean, they imagined them as possessing the same faults and humors as mankind as well as a similar appearance. The actions of the gods illustrate these human characteristics. Hermes loves to gossip and spread news, Hera feels the need to comfort, Artemis laments the loss of life, Hephaestus wants to make the best armor there is, Zeus seeks out human lovers, Ares plans battles, Poseidon has a temper that shakes the ground, both Hera and Athena are jealous and can hold a grudge, and Aphrodite needs lots and lots of attention and feels guilt over the amount of damage she unknowingly created. She says at the end of the book after Troy has been ravaged by war and fire, “‘As for that…’She looked toward Troy, now vanishing into the distance. ‘I didn’t really mean for so much destruction’” (356). They are human yet not and their actions influenced the course of history.
I also enjoyed the reflective nature of the situation in Troy and the characteristics of the gods with the characters in the book. The “Gossips” of the cooking women in the palace reminded me of the three “Fates” who decide, measure, and cut the life threads of all mortals. The women gossiping were forever discussing what was going on around them and the latest news that influenced the Fate of Troy. The jealousy of the goddesses was reflected in both the lives of the Trojan princes and princesses and the lives of their servants in Marpessa, Xanthe, and Iason with Alastor and Polyxena thrown into the mix. The wills of the gods also mirrored the wills and actions of the different armies and warriors as they battle tirelessly for ten years. The micro/macro parallel marks a good work of historical fiction—throw in the aid of the Greek gods, and Geras creates an exemplary piece of historical fantasy.
What I liked about Geras’ interpretation, besides the accuracy to ancient texts, is the fact that she was able to capture the anguish of the war and the destruction of lives on both sides of the wall—Greek and Trojan. While the Greeks may come out more as the villains, there is enough detail on both sides of the story to suggest that both sides were fighting an impossible war that had negative consequences and feelings all around; both nations have good and bad warriors and people living among them, both nations have people who regret the destruction caused by the war both in regards to human life and the city itself. I liked the inclusion of Greek thoughts at the end of the book that let the reader into the minds of different Greek warriors as they sacked, burned, and looted Troy. These thoughts gave us thoughts to balance those of the Trojans—some happily following orders to burn and loot, others questioning the decisions, orders, and actions of those in command; “Of course we couldn’t afford to leave Hector’s son alive. I see that. But there’s ways and ways. Kid wasn’t more than a baby. He could’ve been smothered with a pillow….But he wasn’t….That’s what I’ll see. That’s what I can’t stop seeing” (337-338). The narrator, whoever he is, cannot stomach or forget the image of Astyanax being tossed over the wall and onto the sharp rocks below showing a sense of humanity among the brute force of his commander.
Overall, Geras takes a very complex tale with a great amount of required background knowledge and reworks it into a text that is accessible and, perhaps, more appealing to younger readers. It reads very much like a modern Soap Opera-esque drama—like The Hills of an ancient era. I think the characters deal with timeless issues of love, hate, jealousy, and the overarching destruction of war; issues readers can still identify with. I think my own distaste for the overly dramatic realm of daytime television clouds my reading to some degree and denies my absolute love for the text, but there are many redeeming qualities that place it among novels that I like and admire. I wish that I could have learned more about the characters—their pasts and presents—in order to form a greater bond with them, but alas, it was not to be. When it comes down to it though, I think Geras does an admirable job and I can see myself recommending this book or maybe using it as a companion text to classical Greek and Roman literature.
The Gods. I thought the use of the gods and goddesses within the texts was brilliant! I loved the fact that they would come and disclose information about the present or future only to be dismissed as lunatics by the very people they conversed with in Troy. Characters within the text either found themselves completely disregarding the information provided by the gods and then simply forgetting what they heard or acknowledging their presence only to forget it anyway. The only character who was able to instantly recognize, believe, and remember the gods walking among them was Marpessa who’s near death experience seems to have given her some connection with the gods—at least that is my guess for her capabilities. It could also be her belief and continued exposure to them that allows her to recognize the gods when they appear to interfere with the citizens of Troy.
While some might think the constant interference of the gods and the inability of the citizens to remember them doesn’t fit within the text, I think it is the perfect way to not only explain some of the events that have, are, or will take place so that the audience can keep up with the intricacies of the Trojan War. The use of the gods also reinforces the idea that the gods were a constant part of the lives of the Trojans and Greeks alike. As Ares, the god of war, claims, “It’s not as easy as it looks, organizing things. Every battle has a plan, and every death, every wounding, has to be worked out. It’s exhausting, I can tell you. But it’s almost over…this war” (266). Ares goes further to explain that the gods are tired of the war and ready for it to be over, “It’s enough…That’s the feeling on Olympus. It’s all gone on long enough. I had to promise the end was in sight” (266). His presence throughout the text and the work of the other gods in orchestrating or divulging information about the war makes it explicitly clear who is in charge of Fate.
Geras also does an admirable job in showing the humanness of the gods. When the gods were created by the ancient peoples of the Mediterranean, they imagined them as possessing the same faults and humors as mankind as well as a similar appearance. The actions of the gods illustrate these human characteristics. Hermes loves to gossip and spread news, Hera feels the need to comfort, Artemis laments the loss of life, Hephaestus wants to make the best armor there is, Zeus seeks out human lovers, Ares plans battles, Poseidon has a temper that shakes the ground, both Hera and Athena are jealous and can hold a grudge, and Aphrodite needs lots and lots of attention and feels guilt over the amount of damage she unknowingly created. She says at the end of the book after Troy has been ravaged by war and fire, “‘As for that…’She looked toward Troy, now vanishing into the distance. ‘I didn’t really mean for so much destruction’” (356). They are human yet not and their actions influenced the course of history.
I also enjoyed the reflective nature of the situation in Troy and the characteristics of the gods with the characters in the book. The “Gossips” of the cooking women in the palace reminded me of the three “Fates” who decide, measure, and cut the life threads of all mortals. The women gossiping were forever discussing what was going on around them and the latest news that influenced the Fate of Troy. The jealousy of the goddesses was reflected in both the lives of the Trojan princes and princesses and the lives of their servants in Marpessa, Xanthe, and Iason with Alastor and Polyxena thrown into the mix. The wills of the gods also mirrored the wills and actions of the different armies and warriors as they battle tirelessly for ten years. The micro/macro parallel marks a good work of historical fiction—throw in the aid of the Greek gods, and Geras creates an exemplary piece of historical fantasy.
What I liked about Geras’ interpretation, besides the accuracy to ancient texts, is the fact that she was able to capture the anguish of the war and the destruction of lives on both sides of the wall—Greek and Trojan. While the Greeks may come out more as the villains, there is enough detail on both sides of the story to suggest that both sides were fighting an impossible war that had negative consequences and feelings all around; both nations have good and bad warriors and people living among them, both nations have people who regret the destruction caused by the war both in regards to human life and the city itself. I liked the inclusion of Greek thoughts at the end of the book that let the reader into the minds of different Greek warriors as they sacked, burned, and looted Troy. These thoughts gave us thoughts to balance those of the Trojans—some happily following orders to burn and loot, others questioning the decisions, orders, and actions of those in command; “Of course we couldn’t afford to leave Hector’s son alive. I see that. But there’s ways and ways. Kid wasn’t more than a baby. He could’ve been smothered with a pillow….But he wasn’t….That’s what I’ll see. That’s what I can’t stop seeing” (337-338). The narrator, whoever he is, cannot stomach or forget the image of Astyanax being tossed over the wall and onto the sharp rocks below showing a sense of humanity among the brute force of his commander.
Overall, Geras takes a very complex tale with a great amount of required background knowledge and reworks it into a text that is accessible and, perhaps, more appealing to younger readers. It reads very much like a modern Soap Opera-esque drama—like The Hills of an ancient era. I think the characters deal with timeless issues of love, hate, jealousy, and the overarching destruction of war; issues readers can still identify with. I think my own distaste for the overly dramatic realm of daytime television clouds my reading to some degree and denies my absolute love for the text, but there are many redeeming qualities that place it among novels that I like and admire. I wish that I could have learned more about the characters—their pasts and presents—in order to form a greater bond with them, but alas, it was not to be. When it comes down to it though, I think Geras does an admirable job and I can see myself recommending this book or maybe using it as a companion text to classical Greek and Roman literature.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
CI 5442: Historical Fiction Reponse
The novel Kira-Kira by Cynthia Kadohata turned out to be exactly as the segments of reviews printed on the back cover stated it to be; it shines and speaks to readers as Kadohata tells Katie Takeshima’s bittersweet story of family, love, and loss. Kadohata is able to see the world through the eyes of a young child in the 1950’s who is forced to make many difficult adjustments in the young life. The deep family relationships bring the characters into perspective; Kadohata details the account of a dynamic family struggling to make a brighter future.
I absolutely love the title of the book, Kira-Kira; before I even knew what it meant, the lyrical quality drew me in. Within the first few pages readers are told that kira-kira is Japanese for “glittering,” such a simple yet prolific word. Lynn tells Katie that the sky is kira-kira because “‘the color is deep but see-through both at the same time’” just like the ocean and people’s eyes (3). As a curious reader, I wanted to know why this word was so important—why was it chosen as the title for this book? It wasn’t until much later in the text that I determined why I thought Kadohata chose this word for the title; to me it represented to relationship between Katie and Lynn as well as Lynn’s “theme.”
The relationship between Katie and Lynn is fascinating. The two are inseparable and Lynn always ensures that her sister is cared for, a duty that Lynn takes very seriously. Lynn is the one that looks out for Katie and has “serious talks” with her; Lynn tells Katie that they are moving to Georgia, that Katie might not make friends at school because of prejudices against them, and she tells Katie when their mother is pregnant. While Lynn takes care of Katie, Katie idolizes Lynn. She looks up to her as a genius and friend. They spend a lot of time looking at the sky, making wishes and promises about their future lives, and worrying about their parents. Katie agrees with everything that Lynn tells her and finally Lynn asks, “‘Do you agree with me all the time just because I say so or because you really, truly agree with me?’ I didn’t see the difference between the two things, so I just said I didn’t know” (60). Katie’s reply illustrates her undeniable love and admiration for her big sister.
Things changes when Lynn becomes friends with a girl from school and her behavior changes from being that of a friend to being that of an older sister, alone. The realistic shift from childish antics to boy-crazy attitudes that adolescents experience is chronicled through Katie’s eyes and is, thus, illustrated as a waste of time. Kadohata brilliantly explores this shift through Katie’s young eyes, expressing her confusion with Lynn’s behavior. She stops agreeing with Lynn and begins to feel like a child in her presence. Katie notices one day, “Whenever I try to talk to her, she made me feel immature, even if she didn’t mean to” (120).
While the relationship between Katie and Lynn changes, so does the relationship of the entire family. A major theme of the book—and the Takeshima family—is duty. Katie’s parents know it is their duty to do what is best for their family and provide them with the things they need; this duty drives the family from Iowa to Georgia, it pushes Katie’s parents to work hours and hours each week I order to save enough money to buy a house, it causes them to take out a loan from the bank in order to get that house—something they would never have done if not for Lynn’s condition. Lynn feels it is her duty to take care of Katie, and Katie feels it is her duty to take care of Sammy. When Lynn becomes sick, Katie believes it is her duty to take care of her. Even after Lynn’s death, both Katie and her parents try to protect and take care of each other the best they can. The relationship of the entire family is strained by Lynn’s sickness and threatens to disintegrate, but after Lynn’s death they go on. Katie remarks on how her father only took two days to grieve for Lynn before getting back into his normal routine, “He needed to think about his children who were still alive, because he was honor-bound to think of the living before the dead” (240). Through Lynn’s death the family is brought back together and each of them take something away from the experience.
I thought the setting of the story affected the characters as they struggle to overcome adversity. What is interesting about the book is that the characters are so realistic, that I would often forget the story was set in the 1950s until the girls would mention something relating to the prejudice they faced or specific time-telling things like how much money a dollar seemed to be. I would become so absorbed in the lives of the characters as simply people, that the time period would float in and out of my consciousness. I am not trying to diminish the significance of the historical setting, but there are so many other aspects of the novel that intrigued me as well. Kadohata does create a setting that is realistic and imaginable—you can live it with Katie.
Kadohata’s book is about hope and the ability to achieve a brighter future. Lynn lived for the future and forced those around her to do the same; she loved to look at the sky, the infinite beyond that was full of the same possibilities as their futures. She was always talking about the great things she would accomplish in her life, the great things that Katie would accomplish in hers. It is by preserving this hope and remembering the infinite possibilities of the future that she was able to look at the world in a different way from those around her. Katie writes in her essay for school, “Lynn could take a simple everyday object, like a box of Kleenex and use it to prove how amazing the world is….This is the main theme of my sister’s life” (224). Lynn believed that everything in life could be described as kira-kira if you look at it the right way. Lynn’s death was a heart-wrenching event for her entire family, and yet they each grew from it in a positive way; they took something and made it beautiful, made it kira-kira.
I absolutely love the title of the book, Kira-Kira; before I even knew what it meant, the lyrical quality drew me in. Within the first few pages readers are told that kira-kira is Japanese for “glittering,” such a simple yet prolific word. Lynn tells Katie that the sky is kira-kira because “‘the color is deep but see-through both at the same time’” just like the ocean and people’s eyes (3). As a curious reader, I wanted to know why this word was so important—why was it chosen as the title for this book? It wasn’t until much later in the text that I determined why I thought Kadohata chose this word for the title; to me it represented to relationship between Katie and Lynn as well as Lynn’s “theme.”
The relationship between Katie and Lynn is fascinating. The two are inseparable and Lynn always ensures that her sister is cared for, a duty that Lynn takes very seriously. Lynn is the one that looks out for Katie and has “serious talks” with her; Lynn tells Katie that they are moving to Georgia, that Katie might not make friends at school because of prejudices against them, and she tells Katie when their mother is pregnant. While Lynn takes care of Katie, Katie idolizes Lynn. She looks up to her as a genius and friend. They spend a lot of time looking at the sky, making wishes and promises about their future lives, and worrying about their parents. Katie agrees with everything that Lynn tells her and finally Lynn asks, “‘Do you agree with me all the time just because I say so or because you really, truly agree with me?’ I didn’t see the difference between the two things, so I just said I didn’t know” (60). Katie’s reply illustrates her undeniable love and admiration for her big sister.
Things changes when Lynn becomes friends with a girl from school and her behavior changes from being that of a friend to being that of an older sister, alone. The realistic shift from childish antics to boy-crazy attitudes that adolescents experience is chronicled through Katie’s eyes and is, thus, illustrated as a waste of time. Kadohata brilliantly explores this shift through Katie’s young eyes, expressing her confusion with Lynn’s behavior. She stops agreeing with Lynn and begins to feel like a child in her presence. Katie notices one day, “Whenever I try to talk to her, she made me feel immature, even if she didn’t mean to” (120).
While the relationship between Katie and Lynn changes, so does the relationship of the entire family. A major theme of the book—and the Takeshima family—is duty. Katie’s parents know it is their duty to do what is best for their family and provide them with the things they need; this duty drives the family from Iowa to Georgia, it pushes Katie’s parents to work hours and hours each week I order to save enough money to buy a house, it causes them to take out a loan from the bank in order to get that house—something they would never have done if not for Lynn’s condition. Lynn feels it is her duty to take care of Katie, and Katie feels it is her duty to take care of Sammy. When Lynn becomes sick, Katie believes it is her duty to take care of her. Even after Lynn’s death, both Katie and her parents try to protect and take care of each other the best they can. The relationship of the entire family is strained by Lynn’s sickness and threatens to disintegrate, but after Lynn’s death they go on. Katie remarks on how her father only took two days to grieve for Lynn before getting back into his normal routine, “He needed to think about his children who were still alive, because he was honor-bound to think of the living before the dead” (240). Through Lynn’s death the family is brought back together and each of them take something away from the experience.
I thought the setting of the story affected the characters as they struggle to overcome adversity. What is interesting about the book is that the characters are so realistic, that I would often forget the story was set in the 1950s until the girls would mention something relating to the prejudice they faced or specific time-telling things like how much money a dollar seemed to be. I would become so absorbed in the lives of the characters as simply people, that the time period would float in and out of my consciousness. I am not trying to diminish the significance of the historical setting, but there are so many other aspects of the novel that intrigued me as well. Kadohata does create a setting that is realistic and imaginable—you can live it with Katie.
Kadohata’s book is about hope and the ability to achieve a brighter future. Lynn lived for the future and forced those around her to do the same; she loved to look at the sky, the infinite beyond that was full of the same possibilities as their futures. She was always talking about the great things she would accomplish in her life, the great things that Katie would accomplish in hers. It is by preserving this hope and remembering the infinite possibilities of the future that she was able to look at the world in a different way from those around her. Katie writes in her essay for school, “Lynn could take a simple everyday object, like a box of Kleenex and use it to prove how amazing the world is….This is the main theme of my sister’s life” (224). Lynn believed that everything in life could be described as kira-kira if you look at it the right way. Lynn’s death was a heart-wrenching event for her entire family, and yet they each grew from it in a positive way; they took something and made it beautiful, made it kira-kira.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
CI 5442: Realistic Fiction Response #3
John Green’s novel Looking for Alaska was more than I expected it to be. Right away I was intrigued by Miles as he fidgeted restlessly during his empty going away party. It was amusing to see his view of the high school experience shift as his choice of friends changed from who he sat with out of “social necessity” to those few he couldn’t bear to lose (Green 3). The moment that captured me was in the first few pages when Miles tells his parents why he has decided to attend boarding school; “So this guy, François Rebelais. He was this poet. And his last words were ‘I go to seek a Great Perhaps.’ That’s why I’m going. So I don’t have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps” (Green 5). Already, I knew as a reader that Miles was about to enter into an adventure that would change both his life and the way he sees the world.
When Miles arrives at his Culver Creek Preparatory School, it is clear by the imaginary conversation that he plays through his head that he is ready to change his image and reputation. He learns right away that there are certain rules that you must follow in order to successfully navigate life at Culver Creek; the main rules being, toughen up, don’t get caught, and don’t rat anyone out. Throughout the text, these rules play an important part in driving the characters and presents reader’s with an insider’s look into the workings of an adolescent society. In this society Green presents his readers with four central characters that change Pudge’s life: the Colonel, the strategic and honor-bound leader; Alaska, the moody, beautiful, and fearless prankster; and Takumi, the rapping, fox-loving tag-along; and Lara, the quiet, Romanian cutie. Each character has a distinct personality and position among the “gang.” By providing readers with such dynamic characters, Green is able to draw readers into the microcosm that is Culver Creek. I felt myself sitting alongside the Colonel, Pudge, and Alaska as they sat in the Smoking Hole puffing away on cigarette’s, I was there running alongside Pudge and Takumi as they lit firecrackers and ran through the dark woods surrounding the school, and I was there when Pudge walked away from the Sunny Konvenience Kiosk feeling selfish, hateful, sad, and confused. Green’s use of detail captures the audience in this adolescent world by giving using the reader’s senses and feelings to draw them in. He describes Alaska’s lingering scent in such a way that I could close my eyes and conjure the smell myself.
Another key feature of Green’s text is his development and reoccurring questions of human pain and existence. Mr. Hyde acts as a voice of reason and motivating force on their personal journeys of discovery. By first forcing them to question “What is the most important question human beings must answer?” he is setting up and providing scaffolding for one of the major themes of the book: the twisted labyrinth of life—what is it and what is the point? In consideration of Alaska’s essay and her tragic death, this becomes the second question of his course, “How will you—you personally—ever get out of this labyrinth of suffering?” (Green 215). He tells them, “I am interested in how you are able to understand the fact of suffering into your own understanding of the world, and how you hope to navigate through life in spite of it” (Green 215). This question—coming after the unknown accidental or suicidal death of Alaska—is a heavy question that is difficult for the Colonel and Pudge to answer. The question is probing and as a reader I too stepped back in order to try and analyze my own reactions to such a question. How do I define the labyrinth and how can I continue living within its confusion and complexity.
The characters in the book come up with their own answers to that question based on their personal experience with Alaska—and I must say that I shared that experience with them in my own answer to Mr. Hyde’s proposition. Alaska’s answer had been “Straight &Fast,” an answer that led her to leave the world goodbye far too early (Green 155). While at first this answer appeals to both the Colonel and Pudge, they eventually come up with their own ideologies concerning the labyrinth in opposition to Alaska’s. The Colonel says, “After all this time, it still seems to me like the straight and fast is the only way out—but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it” (Green 217). For all the regret, pain, and guilt that he has suffered, the Colonel has chosen life and all its pain over the escape found by Alaska. Pudge also comes to terms with living in the labyrinth realizing that, “we had to forgive to survive the labyrinth” (Green 218).
In his final paper, Pudge makes some of my favorite remarks from the text. He gives readers an immense amount of hope by presenting to them the awesome strength of a human being; faith. Pudge is able to accept his failings as a friend and yet he knows that he could let his grief draw him into “paralysis” as it did for Alaska, but he saw what this did for her and he decides to face his failures instead. He reminds the audience that while there are horrible and painful events in a person’s life, “Those awful things are survivable, because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be….We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken” (Green 220). While he might be speaking specifically to other teenagers—Green’s audience—these words also resonated with me. During the text I experienced a few rough days of my own and when I read these words it reminded me of the power of the human mind and its ability to overcome great adversity. Pudge still believes in the Great Perhaps, “I spite of having lost her” (Green 219).
Overall, Green does a remarkable job in creating characters, emotions, sensations, and events that are relatable to readers. He frames his story around a boy who finds enjoyment in endings but ultimately understands that it is the middle that really counts. Pudge’s own discovery and the questions and challenges he must face force the reader to look within themselves. I loved this book because it had a little bit of everything and yet still managed to tackle difficult human ponderings in a meaningful way; “that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail” (Green 221).
When Miles arrives at his Culver Creek Preparatory School, it is clear by the imaginary conversation that he plays through his head that he is ready to change his image and reputation. He learns right away that there are certain rules that you must follow in order to successfully navigate life at Culver Creek; the main rules being, toughen up, don’t get caught, and don’t rat anyone out. Throughout the text, these rules play an important part in driving the characters and presents reader’s with an insider’s look into the workings of an adolescent society. In this society Green presents his readers with four central characters that change Pudge’s life: the Colonel, the strategic and honor-bound leader; Alaska, the moody, beautiful, and fearless prankster; and Takumi, the rapping, fox-loving tag-along; and Lara, the quiet, Romanian cutie. Each character has a distinct personality and position among the “gang.” By providing readers with such dynamic characters, Green is able to draw readers into the microcosm that is Culver Creek. I felt myself sitting alongside the Colonel, Pudge, and Alaska as they sat in the Smoking Hole puffing away on cigarette’s, I was there running alongside Pudge and Takumi as they lit firecrackers and ran through the dark woods surrounding the school, and I was there when Pudge walked away from the Sunny Konvenience Kiosk feeling selfish, hateful, sad, and confused. Green’s use of detail captures the audience in this adolescent world by giving using the reader’s senses and feelings to draw them in. He describes Alaska’s lingering scent in such a way that I could close my eyes and conjure the smell myself.
Another key feature of Green’s text is his development and reoccurring questions of human pain and existence. Mr. Hyde acts as a voice of reason and motivating force on their personal journeys of discovery. By first forcing them to question “What is the most important question human beings must answer?” he is setting up and providing scaffolding for one of the major themes of the book: the twisted labyrinth of life—what is it and what is the point? In consideration of Alaska’s essay and her tragic death, this becomes the second question of his course, “How will you—you personally—ever get out of this labyrinth of suffering?” (Green 215). He tells them, “I am interested in how you are able to understand the fact of suffering into your own understanding of the world, and how you hope to navigate through life in spite of it” (Green 215). This question—coming after the unknown accidental or suicidal death of Alaska—is a heavy question that is difficult for the Colonel and Pudge to answer. The question is probing and as a reader I too stepped back in order to try and analyze my own reactions to such a question. How do I define the labyrinth and how can I continue living within its confusion and complexity.
The characters in the book come up with their own answers to that question based on their personal experience with Alaska—and I must say that I shared that experience with them in my own answer to Mr. Hyde’s proposition. Alaska’s answer had been “Straight &Fast,” an answer that led her to leave the world goodbye far too early (Green 155). While at first this answer appeals to both the Colonel and Pudge, they eventually come up with their own ideologies concerning the labyrinth in opposition to Alaska’s. The Colonel says, “After all this time, it still seems to me like the straight and fast is the only way out—but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it” (Green 217). For all the regret, pain, and guilt that he has suffered, the Colonel has chosen life and all its pain over the escape found by Alaska. Pudge also comes to terms with living in the labyrinth realizing that, “we had to forgive to survive the labyrinth” (Green 218).
In his final paper, Pudge makes some of my favorite remarks from the text. He gives readers an immense amount of hope by presenting to them the awesome strength of a human being; faith. Pudge is able to accept his failings as a friend and yet he knows that he could let his grief draw him into “paralysis” as it did for Alaska, but he saw what this did for her and he decides to face his failures instead. He reminds the audience that while there are horrible and painful events in a person’s life, “Those awful things are survivable, because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be….We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken” (Green 220). While he might be speaking specifically to other teenagers—Green’s audience—these words also resonated with me. During the text I experienced a few rough days of my own and when I read these words it reminded me of the power of the human mind and its ability to overcome great adversity. Pudge still believes in the Great Perhaps, “I spite of having lost her” (Green 219).
Overall, Green does a remarkable job in creating characters, emotions, sensations, and events that are relatable to readers. He frames his story around a boy who finds enjoyment in endings but ultimately understands that it is the middle that really counts. Pudge’s own discovery and the questions and challenges he must face force the reader to look within themselves. I loved this book because it had a little bit of everything and yet still managed to tackle difficult human ponderings in a meaningful way; “that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail” (Green 221).
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