Even as I am just beginning this blog post, I know I've made a major implication, just in the title: that love and reality are mutually exclusive. And I believe they are, but mostly in an inorganic portrayal; that is, in movies and television shows and popular books. I've found that these mediums used to express strong physical and emotional love rarely approach it in a realistic way.
For example, the lovely and intellectually-written Twilight novels... What Stephanie Meyer accomplishes with these books is effectively injecting Bella and Edward with every single fantasy she's ever had about love, most of which obviously would never come true. They're unrealistic, not just in the fact that a human and vampire are dating, but in the way their love is so overwhelming to their lives that they literally cannot function without each other. Now I'm not saying that this amount of passion and devotion doesn't exist, but rather asserting that it doesn't exist very often in the real world. It just seems silly and gratuitous to me. Maybe it's just my taste, but I'd like to be refreshed with something actually feasible once in a while. I hope that's not TOO much to ask.
Now when we look at love in real life, we find that it is rough and obscene and very unlike you see in the movies. Most people fail many times at trying to find love, and then we have the people who were paired up by computer programs (match.com, anyone?), and then it all ends with more than half of all marriages failing. Where do we find this in big Blockbuster love stories?
My proposed solution to all this actually already exists. Once, the movie starring Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, which was released a few years ago, is probably to most mature and realistic approach to love in a movie that I've ever seen. It doesn't sugar coat love by putting in on fairies' wings to lightly sail across the eyes of movie theater audiences everywhere. It shows love in the abrupt and imperfect way it really is: with a Hoover vacuum trailing faithfully behind. I know it's another Hollywood creation, just like Valentine's Day or Dear John, but this movie is so unlike those that it can make you open your eyes to the corniness surrounding you. Sure, chick flicks have their place in our lives, and they always will. But a realistic portrayal of love like Once is something to admire.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Blogging Around
This is in response to Alex's post about the use of the "-thing"s in the short story, Cathedral.
I'm with you on this one, Alex. The one thing I took away from Cathedral was the importance of the idea that epiphany doesn't have to be a grand spectacle that uproots someone's life. And you've showed me that his simple word choice in his descriptions emphasized the normality of his experiences. I also never realized how much I use the word "chose" in french class. But it's true; French is a foreign language to me (no pun intended) in the same way the language of epiphany is foreign to the narrator. Well said, Alex. xD
This is in response to Chelsea's post about the lack of intimacy in Cathedral.
This is interesting, Chelsea, but I'm not sure I agree with your interpretation. There's no doubt that the couple in the story has no intimacy: that much is very blatantly outlined. But I think relationships in real life don't need profound displays of intimacy to be quantified. And your choice to look for a lack of intimacy, in my opinion, is a little "glass half empty".
I think you may be having trouble finding intimacy in relationships because you're seeing high school relationships, which last an average of two months and consist of a lot of texting and not much else. I think once you move into a bigger world as you transition to college and your adult life, your views may change.
I'm with you on this one, Alex. The one thing I took away from Cathedral was the importance of the idea that epiphany doesn't have to be a grand spectacle that uproots someone's life. And you've showed me that his simple word choice in his descriptions emphasized the normality of his experiences. I also never realized how much I use the word "chose" in french class. But it's true; French is a foreign language to me (no pun intended) in the same way the language of epiphany is foreign to the narrator. Well said, Alex. xD
This is in response to Chelsea's post about the lack of intimacy in Cathedral.
This is interesting, Chelsea, but I'm not sure I agree with your interpretation. There's no doubt that the couple in the story has no intimacy: that much is very blatantly outlined. But I think relationships in real life don't need profound displays of intimacy to be quantified. And your choice to look for a lack of intimacy, in my opinion, is a little "glass half empty".
I think you may be having trouble finding intimacy in relationships because you're seeing high school relationships, which last an average of two months and consist of a lot of texting and not much else. I think once you move into a bigger world as you transition to college and your adult life, your views may change.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Best of Week: Epiphany
This week, I was very fond of the themes brought up during the discussion of the short story, "Cathedral" by Raymond Carver. My mind was particularly stimulated by the question about the nature of epiphany. In the story, the narrator experiences somewhat of an epiphany while drawing a cathedral to show the blind man, Robert, what the majestic building looks like. In the end, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know that he created mastery and expressed himself, and he keeps his eyes shut when he tells Robert that the drawing is "really something". This anticlimactic ending to the story would disappoint most, but it says a lot about the way people experience abrupt changes of mind.
I keep thinking about how epiphany doesn't happen like it does on the TV show House. People don't stop mid-sentence with a look of mind-blowing comprehension on their face, then drop what they're doing to go implement their epiphany, like Dr. House is known to do. What more often happens is that someone has a minor "aha!" moment in their head and keeps it there, continuing to do whatever they were doing in the way they were doing it. But that little "aha!" causes bigger changes in their life when faced with similar situations in the future. After all, an epiphany is a change of mind or worldview, and in the narrator's case, it was in the way he views the blind and the way he expresses himself.
Therefore, I believe that it is a fallacy that an epiphany is this huge and monumental moment in your life when everything changes forever. People can experience many epiphanies which shape the way they interact with their surroundings. And they don't even have to be positive realizations; I recently had the epiphany that I'm often needlessly stubborn and probably won't ever change. But now at least I realize this, because sometimes knowing something bad about yourself is better than not knowing anything about yourself.
From this, I have decided that I like the way "Cathedral" ended. As a reader, I knew that the narrator had experienced an epiphany, even if his last statement was in his typical underwhelmed style. And I know that if the story were to continue, we would see the implementation of this epiphany in his life, hopefully for the better. I think we should all learn a lesson from the narrator and be more aware of the little epiphanies in out life.
I keep thinking about how epiphany doesn't happen like it does on the TV show House. People don't stop mid-sentence with a look of mind-blowing comprehension on their face, then drop what they're doing to go implement their epiphany, like Dr. House is known to do. What more often happens is that someone has a minor "aha!" moment in their head and keeps it there, continuing to do whatever they were doing in the way they were doing it. But that little "aha!" causes bigger changes in their life when faced with similar situations in the future. After all, an epiphany is a change of mind or worldview, and in the narrator's case, it was in the way he views the blind and the way he expresses himself.
Therefore, I believe that it is a fallacy that an epiphany is this huge and monumental moment in your life when everything changes forever. People can experience many epiphanies which shape the way they interact with their surroundings. And they don't even have to be positive realizations; I recently had the epiphany that I'm often needlessly stubborn and probably won't ever change. But now at least I realize this, because sometimes knowing something bad about yourself is better than not knowing anything about yourself.
From this, I have decided that I like the way "Cathedral" ended. As a reader, I knew that the narrator had experienced an epiphany, even if his last statement was in his typical underwhelmed style. And I know that if the story were to continue, we would see the implementation of this epiphany in his life, hopefully for the better. I think we should all learn a lesson from the narrator and be more aware of the little epiphanies in out life.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
An Inconvenient Truth: Over-Caring
Though given the opportunity, I'm going to try to avoid ranting here, but it may be difficult. What really drives me crazy in the literature I read, particularly Heart of Darkness, is how much people care about everything, and in a shallow way: themselves, their circumstances, their money, their food, their comfort, their image, everything!
Particularly the character of the Manager is illustrative of this caring. He's so obsessed with the way the Company is seen and the way he is seen and how easy or difficult everything is, that he has absolutely no understanding of anything going on around him. He's so focused on the tiny little details of his life that he can't step back for clarity. It's like looking at a Renoir painting from an inch away; all you'll see is the blurry brush strokes, not the beautiful masterpiece it is from afar.
There is an issue when you can only see the big picture and none of the aspects which make up the whole, and in a way, this is very superficial. But this obsession with details is even more superficial, even though one would think it would be deeper.
The reason this rubs me the wrong way is that I have lately been trying to open my eyes to the bigger picture of my life, trying to "go with the flow", so to speak. With college-thinking and AP exams and sports all coming up on me at once, I'd go crazy if I tried to keep a view of all those little things in depth. I self-evaluate and ask myself, "does this really matter to my future? Will my life be worse because I couldn't accomplish this?" And the answer is usually no.
So the basis of my issue with over-caring stems from the fact that I could manage it and these people, like the Manager, don't even try. I know it's necessary to have some character dynamics; otherwise, the book would be flat. There's no way all the key players can have a perfect insight into their life. But I find it unbearably frustrating to be forced to experience this narrow-mindedness along with the character, and feel powerless as they get caught up in all the little details that you, as a reader, know don't matter.
I guess I'll just have to deal with this because I know that it adds something to the story, though it may drive my crazy. I have to face the fact that the book wasn't written to my taste; I have to trust the author to resolve this issue before the conclusion of the novel. I just have to go with the flow.
Particularly the character of the Manager is illustrative of this caring. He's so obsessed with the way the Company is seen and the way he is seen and how easy or difficult everything is, that he has absolutely no understanding of anything going on around him. He's so focused on the tiny little details of his life that he can't step back for clarity. It's like looking at a Renoir painting from an inch away; all you'll see is the blurry brush strokes, not the beautiful masterpiece it is from afar.
There is an issue when you can only see the big picture and none of the aspects which make up the whole, and in a way, this is very superficial. But this obsession with details is even more superficial, even though one would think it would be deeper.
The reason this rubs me the wrong way is that I have lately been trying to open my eyes to the bigger picture of my life, trying to "go with the flow", so to speak. With college-thinking and AP exams and sports all coming up on me at once, I'd go crazy if I tried to keep a view of all those little things in depth. I self-evaluate and ask myself, "does this really matter to my future? Will my life be worse because I couldn't accomplish this?" And the answer is usually no.
So the basis of my issue with over-caring stems from the fact that I could manage it and these people, like the Manager, don't even try. I know it's necessary to have some character dynamics; otherwise, the book would be flat. There's no way all the key players can have a perfect insight into their life. But I find it unbearably frustrating to be forced to experience this narrow-mindedness along with the character, and feel powerless as they get caught up in all the little details that you, as a reader, know don't matter.
I guess I'll just have to deal with this because I know that it adds something to the story, though it may drive my crazy. I have to face the fact that the book wasn't written to my taste; I have to trust the author to resolve this issue before the conclusion of the novel. I just have to go with the flow.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Connection: Heart of Darkness and Avatar
There's been a lot of talk in the media lately about James Cameron's mindblowingly expensive 3D film, Avatar. And why shouldn't there be? It was a movie I loved, as did everyone I know, despite having a slightly cliche storyline. Those floating mountains just blew me away. But the reason the storyline was a little weak (besides that fact that it mimicked the cartoon Fern Gully) was that we'd all heard it before. It was telling a story that has reoccurred throughout history, one of imperialism.
There was Hernan Cortes with the Aztecs in the early 1500s, the Dutch with the Khoi Khoi people in the 1650s, the British empire with basically the entire world from the 1600s-1900s, the Afrikaners in South Africa in the late 1860s, and the list goes on and on. Worldly minded people expanding their influence outward throughout the world to bring in commodities, labor, and revenue, at the expense of anyone who got in their way.
In Avatar, a business-minded man with no regard for anything but boosting his profits inhabits the planet Pandora in search of a rare and valuable ore. And along the way, he massacres and attempts to destroy the hometree of the Na'vi people. This is the exact theme told by Charlie Marlow in Heart of Darkness, only this time it's the Belgian King Leolpold II in search of ivory in the Congo Free State, wiping out Africans along his path.
This very familiar theme of losing all morality in the face of money is a strong characteristic of imperialistic occupation, which sheds light on the possibility that imperialism might not be gone from the world. When James Cameron made this movie, he brought the history of this sometimes dark occurrence back to the forefront of our minds. And the worrying fact remains: if imperialism were to come back into "fashion" in our world, it might not all end as well as it did for the Na'vi.
There was Hernan Cortes with the Aztecs in the early 1500s, the Dutch with the Khoi Khoi people in the 1650s, the British empire with basically the entire world from the 1600s-1900s, the Afrikaners in South Africa in the late 1860s, and the list goes on and on. Worldly minded people expanding their influence outward throughout the world to bring in commodities, labor, and revenue, at the expense of anyone who got in their way.
In Avatar, a business-minded man with no regard for anything but boosting his profits inhabits the planet Pandora in search of a rare and valuable ore. And along the way, he massacres and attempts to destroy the hometree of the Na'vi people. This is the exact theme told by Charlie Marlow in Heart of Darkness, only this time it's the Belgian King Leolpold II in search of ivory in the Congo Free State, wiping out Africans along his path.
This very familiar theme of losing all morality in the face of money is a strong characteristic of imperialistic occupation, which sheds light on the possibility that imperialism might not be gone from the world. When James Cameron made this movie, he brought the history of this sometimes dark occurrence back to the forefront of our minds. And the worrying fact remains: if imperialism were to come back into "fashion" in our world, it might not all end as well as it did for the Na'vi.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Metacognition: First Semester English
The first semester of my sophomore year has been a busier one than ever, what with my schoolwork and extra-curriculars weighing down on my ability to function and cutting into my prefered amount of sleep. It has also caused me to carve out some methods in order to be more efficient in my thinking and learning, especially in english class, which has been more of a help to my academics than I ever could have hoped for.
This way of thinking involves learning how to spread out my attention on a single task over several hours or days or weeks, whichever is the most productive. Last year, I had the issue of reverse-procrastination. I felt the need to finish everything the instant I got it and often stayed up much later than necessary in order to ensure that it got done as soon as possible. This was the biggest problem in english, where I had long essays which were meant to be a collaboration of many days of thinking.
This year, I've come to the realization that I'm not expected to do anyting of this sort, not even by the teachers who assign the work. It turns out, I do my best writing when I come back to my work a day later to bring in "fresh eyes" and a more critical mind. My method is more efficient when spread over a week or more. So I started the year with a new attitude which has developed over the course of the semester into the best possible version of itself. I maintain an element of "hyper-efficient productivity", but not so much that it inhibits me from participating in cross country, orchestra, speech team, or other activities I have passion for. In fact, I was surprised at how easily this change came to me, and therefore I was confused about why I hadn't figured this all out last year and saved myself some sleep.
I generally like the way I work; after all, it is the way I've been doing things for my entire academic career. It's tailor-made to my learning style and speed of thought. But I know there is still more that can be done to aid my work ethic, like learning to study more in one sitting, thus lengthening my attention span. I can also try to fix my propensity to zone out in class during discussions of literature, which I've found myself falling into more and more this semester. in increasing amounts, I'm learning things about myself and my personality that I would have immediately passed off in an inability to change and adapt last year. And that in itself is a clear academic achievement.
This way of thinking involves learning how to spread out my attention on a single task over several hours or days or weeks, whichever is the most productive. Last year, I had the issue of reverse-procrastination. I felt the need to finish everything the instant I got it and often stayed up much later than necessary in order to ensure that it got done as soon as possible. This was the biggest problem in english, where I had long essays which were meant to be a collaboration of many days of thinking.
This year, I've come to the realization that I'm not expected to do anyting of this sort, not even by the teachers who assign the work. It turns out, I do my best writing when I come back to my work a day later to bring in "fresh eyes" and a more critical mind. My method is more efficient when spread over a week or more. So I started the year with a new attitude which has developed over the course of the semester into the best possible version of itself. I maintain an element of "hyper-efficient productivity", but not so much that it inhibits me from participating in cross country, orchestra, speech team, or other activities I have passion for. In fact, I was surprised at how easily this change came to me, and therefore I was confused about why I hadn't figured this all out last year and saved myself some sleep.
I generally like the way I work; after all, it is the way I've been doing things for my entire academic career. It's tailor-made to my learning style and speed of thought. But I know there is still more that can be done to aid my work ethic, like learning to study more in one sitting, thus lengthening my attention span. I can also try to fix my propensity to zone out in class during discussions of literature, which I've found myself falling into more and more this semester. in increasing amounts, I'm learning things about myself and my personality that I would have immediately passed off in an inability to change and adapt last year. And that in itself is a clear academic achievement.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Blogging Around
This is in responde to Mary's blog post about the loss of simplicity in modern music, and references Jerry Lee Lewis's "Great Balls of Fire" as an example of the older, better aproach.
You've really nailed it on the head here, Mary. Besides the fact that I love this song, I absolutely agree with your observation about the loss of simplicity in music today. I think that's why I'm so fond of artists like Jack Johnson, who often sing plainly with just a guitar in hand. I mean, half the time I listen to music, I zone out and let the instrumentals bring me to some place in my head. I do some of my best thinking to the soundtrack of Prokofieff's concerto for cello, which is very complex, but mostly contained in a lone cello with little orchestra involvement. I mean simplicity is beautiful in music, and it's a sign of our obsession as a society with always being productive that we can't stop outselves from shoving five minutes of singing into a three minute song. If you look at classic songs from the 30s, 40s, and 50s, you'll rarely find one more than three minutes long. Nowadays, the standard has risen to about six minutes. We need a musical reality check!
This is in response to Chen's post about the rock version of Pachelbell's Canon in D, which emphasizes changes in music over time.
Haha I LOVE this video. I have ever since I saw it a few years ago, back when it was a youtube sensation. I don't know if you'll know this, but after this video came out, some record company or other decided they wanted to sign this talented kid, so they ceaselessly searched for him. I mean, as you'll notice, he doesn't show his face. I'm not sure if they ever found him, but I found it interesting. Anyway, this song is really a cool interpretation of a classic song. I'm not even sure why it's considered Christmas music. Some people use it for their wedding. But yeah, interpreting songs that have been done in one way for a really long time is just as original and difficult as writing the song yourself. It may even be harder to do...
You've really nailed it on the head here, Mary. Besides the fact that I love this song, I absolutely agree with your observation about the loss of simplicity in music today. I think that's why I'm so fond of artists like Jack Johnson, who often sing plainly with just a guitar in hand. I mean, half the time I listen to music, I zone out and let the instrumentals bring me to some place in my head. I do some of my best thinking to the soundtrack of Prokofieff's concerto for cello, which is very complex, but mostly contained in a lone cello with little orchestra involvement. I mean simplicity is beautiful in music, and it's a sign of our obsession as a society with always being productive that we can't stop outselves from shoving five minutes of singing into a three minute song. If you look at classic songs from the 30s, 40s, and 50s, you'll rarely find one more than three minutes long. Nowadays, the standard has risen to about six minutes. We need a musical reality check!
This is in response to Chen's post about the rock version of Pachelbell's Canon in D, which emphasizes changes in music over time.
Haha I LOVE this video. I have ever since I saw it a few years ago, back when it was a youtube sensation. I don't know if you'll know this, but after this video came out, some record company or other decided they wanted to sign this talented kid, so they ceaselessly searched for him. I mean, as you'll notice, he doesn't show his face. I'm not sure if they ever found him, but I found it interesting. Anyway, this song is really a cool interpretation of a classic song. I'm not even sure why it's considered Christmas music. Some people use it for their wedding. But yeah, interpreting songs that have been done in one way for a really long time is just as original and difficult as writing the song yourself. It may even be harder to do...
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