Great Works '09

I actually really enjoy the genre of Magical Realism. I was first exposed to it as a high school junior, when I read some Marquez for my Spanish class. I loved the way my teacher explained a good way to read it. You need to just clear your mind of what is “normal” and just pretend that whatever occurs is just an everyday thing. Do not think that it couldn’t happen or that it’s impossible; when you do this, reading becomes a surreal experience. I tend to be very visual so when reading this story I almost had a movie of the story running in my head. This genre allows one to escape from the everyday and it is truly and interesting experience.

The grandmother in this story is really frustrating to me. I think because I find it very difficult to comprehend her selfishness. She treats her own flesh and blood with such disrespect and uses her for her own benefit but at the same time, she sometimes has concern for her well being, but I believe that this is most likely because if something were to happen to Erendira, it would be extremely detrimental to her own well being. In a sense, she reminds me of those “stage moms”, as in mothers of child stars or child beauty pagent contestants. I think that these people are a little bit sick. While some of them really do nurture their children’s talents, I think that most of them are doing it to exploit their children for their own benefit. Additionally, these children rarely turn out normal because they do not get the chance to grow up. It is ultimately very bad for the children. I find this fairly disgusting. The relationship these parents have with their children end up suffereing a great deal. It probably won’t be as drastic as their children trying to poison them and having their lover kill them but, it is detrimental all the same.

When Ulises was trying to “slay” the grandmother, I could not help but think of Rasputin (Romanov adviser). They tried so many ways of killing him but still wouldn’t die. He ends up drowning, after being shot, poisoned, stabbed, etc. Erendira and Ulises tried so many things to try and kill to old woman and she just wouldn’t die. Just as people thought that Rasputin was of another world, we contemplated if she was not of this world as well.

Well according to Professor Eversley, I can draw my butt off. I believe in her sincerity, so enjoy!

The thing about Innocence is that it is so incredibly….irresistable. Erendira’s line of work is far from glamorous but at the same time she was very successful. Its not so ironic if you analyze it correctly. She was unwillingly forced by her grandmother into prostitution. Key word being unwillingly. Meaning she didn’t have a choice. Meaning she didn’t have the active free will. Meaning any actions that she took no matter how sordid would not besmirch her “honorable” innocence. Thats special.

Innocence is defined as “the quality of unsullied naivite” thank you Websters dictionary. Erendira is a character of innocence in the story. She works without pay and without complaint. She seems to be like a modern day Cinderella. She cleans the clocks and the house and not to mention the morbidly obese grandmother that never fails to order her around even when she is sleeping. I find it interesting that Gael Garcia Marquez gives the characters fantastic qualities. Its almost fits into the fantasy genre but not quite. One thing about reading his novels is that it is important to IMAGINE what he is writing. Its almost like…lazy reading if you directly absorb the prose withou stopping to imagine, a blubbery white grandmother with green blood, a girl with Medusa hair, or oranges with diamonds in them. Imagine the possibilities of Prof. Eversley finding them and never ever ever coming back to Baruch to teach her baby geniuses she enjoys so much!

Gael Garcia Marquez is a genius, he’s also a guy that is difficult to discuss without saying his whole name because it is so charismatic. But I an digressing. What I found a bit confusing was the ending. I didn’t understand why Erendira had to kill her Grandmother when that was up to Ulises. In order to earn Erendira, he went to the trouble of making a cake repelete with poison and the irony is that the grandmother was to fat to die from it. Think of the irony. Fat implies that she was a glutton without self control and even with that sin against her it is the factor that leads to her survival. If she were on of those tiny grandmothers she would have died instantly. Marquez makes a point of emphasizing power with imagery. Sheer size in this case transcends into more power, strength of will and overall bestiality.

I can’t entirely condemn the grandmother, she did care for Erendira by providing her with “luxuries”. At the same time she still abused the abilities of her grandaughter and it was the sin of exessive greed that killed her. Erendira, even in assisted murder remains innocent. Then she had to go take the gold for goodness sake. Good job Erendira. That makes you just as hypocritical and greedy.

Do you see the cycle?

I just turned on my computer and the top news story on my homepage reminded me of a post that Cathy wrote earlier, when we were reading July’s people, about defining minority/majority.  The article talks about how Asian and Hispanic growth have slowed due to immigration laws, causing the government to push back estimates on when minorities will become the majority by as much as a decade. “The Census Bureau projected last August that white children will become the minority in 2023 and the overall white population will follow in 2042.”

Check out this website for the full article and to see if you can guess in which US states whites are a minority:

http://news.aol.com/article/asian-hispanic-population-growth-slows/481995?icid=main|aim|dl1|link3|http%3A%2F%2Fnews.aol.com%2Farticle%2Fasian-hispanic-population-growth-slows%2F481995

-I will miss this blog  : (

Hello Professor,

This is Seinfeld Hello Voice that I find very similar to your greeting.

*toast* Good luck everyone and best wishes *eye contact* *tap cups* *sip*

Here we are, our wonderfully insightful English class is drawing to a close. As I sit here at 2 in the morning lamenting my inability to properly put into the words the ideas floating around in my head — OH ESSAY, HOW YOU TORTURE ME SO — I started thinking again about what the use of all this literature is. Of course, half of this contemplation may have been sparked because I went back through posts in the blog… But as I thought about the connection between literature and other forms of art (i.e. the visual or performing arts), I remembered an interesting article that I read a long time ago. I’m surprised that the connection didn’t strike me until now. If you’ve never read the article, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING IT:

“Pearls Before Breakfast”. The Washington Post. April 8, 2007

This article basically talks about an experiment that was conducted, in which Joshua Bell (a hugely famous and extremely talented concert violinist) played his violin in a Washington train station during the early morning rush hour. The experiment was to see how many people would recognize artistic genius and take time out to stop what they are doing and appreciate it. Imagine that: Joshua Bell in a train station, playing Bach’s “Chaconne” on his $3.5 million Stradivari violin. How many people do you think would stop to see such an amazing sight??

VERY FEW, actually: “In the three-quarters of an hour that Joshua Bell played, seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance, at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money, most of them on the run — for a total of $32 and change. That leaves the 1,070 people who hurried by, oblivious, many only three feet away, few even turning to look.”

[kml_flashembed movie="http://www.youtube.com/v/hnOPu0_YWhw" width="425" height="350" wmode="transparent" /]

SEVEN people stopped. Isn’t that amazing? This violinist, who can sell out $100 concert tickets like water, got $32 and an audience of 7.

Now given that it was rush hour, you can’t help (as a busy New Yorker, if nothing else) but sympathize– even if only a little– with the commuters. We’re all so busy, and especially around rush hours? Not a good time for appreciating the arts. But this is the crux of the experiment — we’re all so busy with living and going about our daily lives, how many of us REALLY stop and appreciate something artistic and beautiful?

Although this experiment highlights the point most dramatically for me, I think this very same idea can be applied to literature. We’re all so busy with living that many of us don’t see the point — or at least, don’t have the time and luxury — to stop, pause, and appreciate art. Maybe some of us don’t even care. And I think it’s a huge shame that this ability to appreciate is disappearing.

I decided to post my thoughts about this class as a whole and wanted to reflect on the knowledge I have acquired throughout the semester. I realized that the books assigned all contained the common theme of personal change and transformation (both for the good and for the bad). I now believe that growth as a human being requires a passion for something, whether that something is “experience”/”knowledge”, companionship, family, etc. The desire to pursue your passions allows you to thrive and satisfies the desire to have purpose. When you no longer have a passion or purpose you rot, you merely exist without meaning. This idle existence takes a toll on your health and corrupts your mental state. You crave purpose and may consume yourself with trivialities as a substitution for genuine passion. I encourage everyone to expand their interests, uncover your true passions, and pursue them to the fullest. I believe this is a key aspect in self-growth and is a milestone on the path to leading a prosperous, vibrant life.

when gregor awoke....

I didn’t draw this immediately after I read the novella. I drew it at  I time i deemed befitting. I’m very proud I drew this. My drawing and technique has improved but for all its faults, this remains my most humane peice.

I’ve always tried to ignore my future. It doesn’t seem very real to me, much like the life I lead now. Its not bad by any means but I feel like there is something overwhelmingly obvious that I am overlooking. If not I’d be happy right? I think Gregor Samsa would agree with me. I think Franz Kafka would agree with me.Why? Because “The Metamorphosis” removes denial and false speculation about one’s fate. All I really know for sure is that I will grow up to become a woman- what then? Its almost like there is no point in living. If there is no point in anything, why live at all? This thought process is the beating heart of the existentialist movement. One’s actions define oneself. However, actions are easier said than done.

            Now before you hand me a paper with a suicide prevention hotline number hear me (and Gregor) out in this unfolding existential crisis.  Lets suppose I get an excellent job sometime in the future, something far more glamorous than selling cloth like Gregor. Will I really be happy? Will the ability to pursue my ambitions unhindered make me more of a human being than Gregor who never missed a day of work he hated? I believe so. I know what is expected of me. I should get a job, get married and settle down. Does this sound familiar? Gregor faces his family’s expectations that he provide for their needs without complaint. Already he surrenders his free will and thus it is as if he never existed at all. When the family is forced to care for him they become more assertive. The mother and father find employment. And Gregor’s sister Grete grows as bold as to refer to Gregor as “it” stripping him of his humanity. Demeaning his existence and life. Throughout this, Gregor is passive, he allows his family to hide and cold shoulder him and he allows his hygiene to deteriorate.

People will tell me, for the most part that I should live life to its fullest. Enjoy it while I am still a human being, not a bestial big bug. Hypothetically of course. I think Kafka is trying to teach us to enjoy and cherish life without relying on a “happy” ending through Gregor’s transformation in “The Metamorphosis”. Gregor undergoes his duties in a mechanical manner that makes him seem inhuman. He is miserable, completely and utterly isolated in a predicament unique to him. It is also ironic that his transformation is the single most amazing thing that ever happened to him. The time when he acts through instinct instead of duty .Its very easy to say that something is amazing. I can’t name one “amazing” thing right now. However, waking up a giant bug is definitely “amazing”

Perhaps having children, or pursuing even my most fleeting whims and ambitions will lead me to experiences and something that I can honestly call “amazing” Something that will make me say-

“Dear God, I was such a narrow minded idiot when I wrote this stupid entry!”

I can only hope. And so can Gregor.

Food for Thought

What is the use of literature? That question immediately irritates me because its brusque tone implies that there is no point in reading. If there is no point in reading then why read at all? Take me for example, how could I aquire the ability to interpret and describe tone if I did not take the time to read and study texts. Why would people read books, magazines, the signs on the streets? Sometimes it is “utilitarian”, something useful and pragmatic. Sometimes the pursuit of reading for its usefulness sounds dull, exceedingly dull and literature can not be generalized as “dull”.

Then they started to discuss poetry, that’s not dull at all. I like poetry. Poetry, with a capital P denotes its importance as a subject.  According to one professor “Poetry is a way of happening”. Instead of using prose to describe occurrences on can use poetry to imprint a sharper, clearer image. In this age of technology and instant gratification, clear communication is seriously underrated. Some people would describe Poetry as “hard”. Yet it is one of the most free forms of expression and easy to interpret if you are a good communicator. A good communicator isn’t defined by their words per minute speed, or how fast they speak. A good communicator is  uses the minimal amount of words befitting a transfer of thoughts, ideas, and information. Reading teaches on to be a good communicator.

At one point the moderator mentioned Anna Karenina as an important text. I cringed visibly. I absolutely loath that book, Tolstoy’s characters, never ending sentences and DRAMA. I’m shuddering now just thinking about it. Sure its considered a classic work of Russian literature and also required reading. However all I remember thinking about Anna is “WHY IS SHE DOING THIS! HOW IS SHE GETTING AWAY WITH THIS!!”. Without giving away too much of the plot I realize that literature teaches us to question reasons and methods of human action. Human life is not a linear sequence of events without cause or development. There are emotions, catalysts and literature teaches us how to interpret them.

Good writers can describe your life experiences and help you “make sense of a world that really doesn’t make sense” according to one Professor. I agree with them. Literature can transport a reader halfway across the globe, back in time, into the future and deep into the subconscious. This is not an overstatement. I love to write because I love to read! Literature has evolved, there is so much to read! It does not matter if you are a teeny bopper “Twilight” fan, a Phillip Pullman sci-fi aficionado, a Dan Brown thrill seeker or a scholarly fan of James Joyce, reading develops your personality! We’re at the age where we aren’t sure who we are, what we want, or where we want to go. Reading literature aids in the development of identifying “wants”, and that’s what we all “want”. Right?

Reading Garcia Marquez’s “The Incredible and Sad Tale of Innocent Erendira and Her Heartless Grandmother,” makes me question the extent of family deity.  As children, most of us are taught to respect the elders and to listen to what our parents/guardians tell us to do.  While we may not always like what we are told to do, they are usually very reasonable and managable.  Erendira, on the other hand, is given so many chores to do that she has to rest and work at the same time, in order to get all the chores done.  This clearly depicts Erendira as a “good girl” but let’s be realistic here, how can anyone still be loyal to any family member if they are treated in such a matter?

And to make things worst, when Erendira is so overwhelmed with exhaustion that she falls asleep without putting out the candle, her grandmother forces her to pay her debt through prostitution!  It’s no wonder that Erendira plots her grandmother’s murder – anyone else would have snapped or ran away a long time ago!
..

And to discuss something not related to the title of the blog: the relationship between Erendira and Ulises.  Did Erendira really cared about Ulises or was it because she was his first experience that she took particular interest in him? Was it because she was aware of how attached Ulises would get to her that she manipulates his attraction to help her kill her grandmother? Or did she really have affections for him but was drawn more to the possibility of freedom that she runs away from him at the end?

If Erendira intentionally manipulates Ulises, then she would no longer be the innocent Erendira described in the title of the story.  Perhaps the torture and abuse that her grandmother put her through changes her personality to someone more cruel..

Oppression has been with Erendira from the start

Grandmother and her were world’s apart

With daily chores that squeezed her dry

Erendira’s pleas heard no reply

Night and Day, she would not rest

Submitting to obscene requests

One night, misfortune struck a blow

That left their home with fire aglow

Erendira was in debt

For a mistake she can’t forget

Her body was bargained for,

She became a well known whore

But Erendira found a friend

Whom she abandoned toward story’s end

All she wanted was escape

From a life filled with agony and rape

Both servant and slave

Sexually corrupted and depraved

Soon Erendira found a way

Her friend Ulises was to slay

Ulises did his promise keep

But Erendira did not weep

She made sure the job was done

With her grandma dead, she had won

Finally free from misfortune,

Erendira ran,

Ran towards the desert sun