Monday, March 15, 2010

My Letter to the World

This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,--
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.

Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!
-Emily Dickinson

In the syllabus for this course, the blog is described as "a daily meditation, a soapbox, a creative outlet, a letter to the world, whatever we want it to be." I believe it has been all of those things for me, but I want this last one especially to be my letter to the world.

Literature is everything to me. It always has been. It's a long history of a beautiful romance, so I won't have time to fill everyone in on all the details...but I'll do what I can. In the Autumn of 2008, I got really sick, so sick I almost died. When I was in the hospital, from the time I was first rushed into the E.R. through the my week long morphine haze- I talked of one thing. Literature. My parents informed me that I was non-stop quoting Shakespeare, particularly Mark Antony's "Friends, Romans, Countryman" speech from "Julius Caesar." My cousin, who is now my roommate, recently informed me that when she came to visit me during this time- I told her how I'd met Shakespeare at the Renaissance festival and how he'd kissed my hand. The most significant thing about the whole event is that my father had called up my high school English teacher, Mrs. Barber, because I wouldn't stop telling him how much I needed her to know how important she was. I guess the severity of my condition caused them to not hesitate in calling her into see me. Frances Noel Barber taught me what the definition of Literature is. According to her, Literature is "the sincere representation of a view of life expressed in appropriate and memorable terms." That is a definition I will never forget. Even on my deathbed...(luckily, I can make light of that cliché) Now, besides being a really dramatic retelling of my near death experience, this narrative does serve a purpose. That purpose is to show how significant literature is. In the face of death, we realize what is most important to us. Literature opened up every window and showed me more about life than two decades of living could. Ever since my childhood, literature has shown me the beauty and the tragedy of life. Somewhere along that path, I fell in love. (Although I can be certain that it wasn't while I was reading Sign of the Beaver in the fifth grade) By the way, I started to wonder why every book we read in elementary school was a survival story. Well, I've got a proposition. I think that all literature in a sense is a survival story. This class covered early American literature, which we saw was all about conquest and survival. Our country was based on literature of survival. People came to this country for a blank slate, and at the base of everything was survival. And we're still writing about it. Why? This is my guess: I think literature is the soul's means of survival. Literature heals. You can share the burden of a broken heart with a blank page. Maxwell Evarts Perkins, who was the literary editor for Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald said, "There could be nothing so important as a book could be." Emily Dickinson shared her solitude with her poetry. If her poetry hadn't survived, nothing would be left to mark the brilliance of her existence. Poe's work surely alleviated some of the darkness and madness that was haunting his mind. Yeah, he still died of probable alcoholism, but at least Literature was his companion. Reflecting back on all the Literature we covered in this class, I can't help, but think of the reason the stories came into existence. Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Women's Indian Captivity Narratives, On Witchcraft, In the Heart of the Sea...these narratives were written to be testament's to these people's struggles. The human mind is easily overwhelmed, and these people had some pretty hefty stuff to deal with. Watching your children get murdered, dealing with the fact that Satan is possibly taking over your society, and the burden of knowing you butchered your friend and ate him. If I were these people, I would definitely be writing something. Literature is way of coping with whatever it is life throws at you. One of my favorite lyricists, Conor Oberst, has a lyric in his songs, "A Bowl of Oranges", that illustrates my point. He writes, "So, that's how I learned the lesson that everyone's alone. And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow. But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself. It's best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or simple song of hope."


Studying early American Literature in this class has been a journey through the country's founding literature, but by showing me what was at the root of these pieces of literature, it showed me what was rooted in all of literature. Even in my own. This is why it's so easy to connect eighteenth century stories to modern day movies and books. We’re all alone, and we’re all trying to survive: socially, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, physically, and even academically. We write to mark our progression or regression, because by literalizing what’s on our mind, we become less alone in our attempt for survival. We become a part of something bigger. I said earlier that writing was the soul’s means of survival. Well, here’s another way of saying it. Contributing our own voice to something beyond ourselves is the soul’s ultimate way of surviving long after we’re gone. Who is Emily Dickinson? Poe? Emerson? Thoreau? They’re voices. Voices we can hear with our souls and not with our ears. Literature is the greatest power on earth. That’s why when I found myself in that hospital room, I didn’t once think of death. I didn’t feel fear. I felt a sense of urgency. Urgency, because who knows what time we have left of our brief lives. If we need to get away from the chaotic or mundane drag of our daily lives, we’ll pick up book. Dickinson was right when she said, “There is no Frigate like a book to take us lands away.” Sometimes, even, we drift too far, and we need literature to help us find our way back to ourselves. That’s what this class did for me. It helped me find my way back. I was losing sight of why I’d fallen in love with Literature. When I started college, I was excited to be talking about Literature all the time. Then, somewhere along the line it began to feel like I was reading Literature just to write analysis papers, I stopped feeling the heart and soul behind the words. I was actually starting to worry. I lost my voice. I realized that one day, and that’s when I really began to freak out. I had become a literary analytical zombie. I stopped all flow from the heart, and directed it all to the brain. You can’t do that with Literature. That’s why it’s the “sincere representation” not just a “representation.” It’s gotta be felt. This blog and this class has helped me feel that passion again. I can hear my own voice again. I bet if you choose to go back to my first blog and read all the way through to this one (or even just compare those two) you could see the transformation from zombie to lover. Zombies cry, “Brains!” but lover’s cry, “Soul!” Literature is my first love. Throughout the journey of this class's survival stories, that love was revived and equipped with new survival tactics.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

"There's no one in the world like EMILY"

I have to set this blog up with a song. It's been stuck in my head since we watched the video on Tuesday and the one woman said there was no one in the world like Emily Dickinson. Here's a song from First to Last that I will never again be able to listen to without thinking of Emily Dickinson. It's called "Emily."
So, here are a few interesting Emily Dickinson fun facts:
I am a huge fan.
I sent my SAT scores to Amherst College. I considered going there simply, because of Emily's history in Amherst. I decided not to finish the application process, because I decided this probably wasn't good enough logic to base the rest of my future upon.
I'm no longer quite so obsessed.
Historical Reference: Emily Dickinson loved the poetry of John Keats (He is in my top 3, if not my favorite poet). She also liked the Brownings. I learned this from poets.org:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/155

You should read it! One cool thing I also found out is that she had bound her poems in a certain order that was changed by various editors that published her. They now think that their was some kind of importance to the order she bound them in other than chronology.

The facilitation was amazing! I really enjoyed it. I think one of the coolest things about class was the Exquisite Corpse poems. Those were really good. The best thing I think I learned though was that she had marked in her copy of "Self-Reliance" these passages:
"My life is for itself and not for spectacle" and "What I must do is all that concerns me not what people think"
That knowledge makes me feel more certain in the belief that I already had. Her solitude was not something that should make us pity her. She chose that solitude, and she did wonderful things with the solitude that she gave herself. I went through a phase where I kinda shut myself out from the world. I used to go back behind my house everyday as soon as I got home from school, and I would sit on the ledge above the creek and just write. I kept it all in a journal. When I go back and read it, I'm jealous of the person I was. In those moments of complete solitude, I had myself figured out. I thought I had the world figured out, and back then I didn't really mind not being a part of it. I've never written anything more honest or beautiful than when I wrote on that ledge. I don't even remember when I stopped going back there- I got too caught up in society. I think that's what Emily was avoiding. She didn't want to be diluted. She didn't want her thoughts on life and love to be diluted either. I think that's why I always loved her work. I recognized something of myself in her words. I've always loved this poem:
70

"Arcturus" is his other name—
I'd rather call him "Star."
It's very mean of Science
To go and interfere!

I slew a worm the other day—
A "Savant" passing by
Murmured "Resurgam"—"Centipede"!
"Oh Lord—how frail are we"!

I pull a flower from the woods—
A monster with a glass
Computes the stamens in a breath—
And has her in a "class"!

Whereas I took the Butterfly
Aforetime in my hat—
He sits erect in "Cabinets"—
The Clover bells forgot.

What once was "Heaven"
Is "Zenith" now—
Where I proposed to go
When Time's brief masquerade was done
Is mapped and charted too.

What if the poles should frisk about
And stand upon their heads!
I hope I'm ready for "the worst"—
Whatever prank betides!

Perhaps the "Kingdom of Heaven's" changed—
I hope the "Children" there Won't be "new fashioned" when I come—
And laugh at me—and stare—

I hope the Father in the skies
Will lift his little girl—
Old fashioned—naught—everything—
Over the stile of "Pearl."

I think it says a lot about how people lessen the beauty of nature by classification. Just like society tries to cram everything into customs and institutions. I really like the part about her going to heaven. It always made me sad though, when she says she hopes the children there don't laugh and stare at her. With this poem I feel like I can really hear Emily's voice.

Favorite Quotes:
"Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell."
"That Love is all there is, is all we know of Love."
"Heart! We will forget him! You and I-tonight! You may forget the warmth he gave-I will forget the light!"



Saturday, March 6, 2010

"A Person's Soul Should Be Like An Ocean"

When we were listening to the online story about the guy who questions the mentally ill he said something that stood out to me, "A person's soul should be like an ocean." This is probably the most memorable quote for me, because I have no clue what it means, but it sounds just right. He seemed to really know what he was talking about, because he realized that his sanity was just as questionable as those who were legally titled insane. The thin line between sanity and insanity has been a question all week. I just went to see Shutter Island Thursday night. That movie really blurred the line between two. A line in that movie was almost exactly the same as something we mentioned in class this week. We said that when we say we're not insane that's when we most likely are. When we have the ability to question our sanity, it is probably still within our possession. In that movie, someone says to Leonardo DiCaprio's character something along the lines of: If I tell you I'm not insane that won't help anything. In fact, the more you try to convince someone of your sanity the more you work against your own point. I know that reading Edgar Allan Poe certainly raises questions on the topic of sanity. I don't think it should. None of us really know what sanity is anyway. "Ligeia" is a story of passion. Unhealthy passion, maybe, but what does healthy passion look like. I'm sorry that I am about to reference the Dead Poet's Society again, but there is a relevant quote that I love. Mr. Keating says to his students, "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute, we read and write poetry, because we are members of the human race, and the human race is full of passion." Well, I think that passion is what the soul is made of and sanity is reason. "A person's soul should be like an ocean." The ocean is vast, volatile, and unrestrained. I see all of these qualities within the work of Edgar Allan Poe. The passion is fascinating. This passage is my favorite from this weeks readings, "I am possessed with a passion to discover. Those eyes! those large, those shining, those divine orbs! they became to me twin stars of Leda, and I to them devoutest of astrologers." I know this will sound cheesy, but I admire the soul of this passage. The passionate devotion. Literature to me is a passion to discover- to discover the heart of the story. That's why I fell in love with it. I want to be the devout astrologer to the endless sky of literature. Whitney kept arguing for "Ligeia" as a romantic story. I completely agree with her. I don't really consider Edgar Allan Poe's insanity. Really, I admire it. Poe quotes Bacon within "Ligeia," "There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion." I think the strangeness of Poe's writing is what makes it so beautiful.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Week 8 Class Reflection


Okay, so let me start out by saying how excited I was to see Scott Wolf (Bailey from Party of 5) in the "White Squall"! That's my favorite TV show of all time, and no one ever knows what I'm talking about when I reference it.
There are a few things that stood out to me in class discussion this week.
We talked on Tuesday about respectability and today it wasn't as directly hit upon, but we were definitely all trying to measure the respectability of the actions of the survivors of the Whaleship Essex. In Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Jacobs' grandmother says, "There would have been more virtue in death or even rape than the choice she made." When I read those words, "more virtue in death" I can't help thinking about the survivors of the Essex. I think there would have been more virtue in their dying than killing other human beings and eating them. I mean, yeah, we can say we wouldn't know what we would do unless we were in that situation, but I think we can have a good idea. Even if I'm wrong, say if I were in that situation and I decided to butcher my friend like a tortoise and eat him, I'm not going to say in the end that it was a more virtuous action than choosing my death. I'd have my life, but not my virtue. To me, my virtue is more important. To others, it might not be. So, I don't think what they did was respectable. I don't blame them, because I do realize that it was their only chance at survival. Let them walk away with the award of still having their life, but I certainly don't think they deserve more of an award or merit than that. Definitely not my respect or recognition of their manliness. That's another thing this class discussion got me thinking about. Manliness. We said that it was something that is measured in the eyes of other men. I thought it was more interesting; however, that some of the women vowed to not marry a man who had not gotten at least one whale. I know things have changed a lot since that time, but I really think that the way women view manliness is a lot different now than how men view it. At least, in my experience.
In this class we've seen manliness based on conquests in whaling, exploring, wrestling, sexing, wedding crashing, and so much more. Men must make conquests. Yet, I know a lot of women who view those as boyish things. The easiest way to explain this is to compare it to "A Knight's Tale" when Jocelyn asks William to lose all of his jousts to prove his love for her. We think a boy is a man, when he is able to deny himself the glory of conquest. I've never been a guy, but having a brother and lots of guy friends leads me to speculate that a guy finds it a lot more difficult to tell all his buddies that he's finally met the one he'd like to settle down with than it is for a girl to tell her friends.Perhaps, it's because men don't want to appear conquered. It's like their admitting that they've allowed a woman to tame them. Now, I don't know about everyone else, but I would not fall head over heels for a guy who told me he ate his friends to survive a whaling trip. I definitely wouldn't swoon at his "manliness." Maybe manliness has just gone out of style.

There was something else I found very interesting. Pollard's leadership was more democratic, whereas Chase was more socialistic. He attended to the rations. He became a source of comfort and inspiration. More of his men survived. I just think it's interesting that the "democracy" was the one that ended worse.

Just one other thing I have to mention- Today, in class, when we mentioned that the black sailors were the first to die and be cannibalized- I thought of scary movies. The stereotypical scary movie, where supposedly the black guy always dies first. Speaking of which, this book is eerie. The image of that ship in the film clip freaked me out, too. The power of water, particularly the ocean, has always freaked me out, but the image of that creepy ship in the dark, misty, stormy sea like the eerie image I've included (Ghost Ship by Charles Cochrane)...anyway, I'm starting to rant. It kinda feels good though- I haven't written like this in a while. I'm finally finding my voice again- I thought it was lost forever to the mold of analytical essay structure. I can't say how good it feels to know it's not gone.
Favorite Quote:
"This is a past we forget we need to remember."
I think if we'd pay attention to the past, we'd save ourselves a lot of trouble. I guess that's why I've always been fascinated with historical things and classic literature and films. Never say there's no point in something that happened before you-there's always something to learn. This quote reminded me of another of my favorites-a quote by Cicero, "Not to know what happened before you were born is to remain forever a child."

Sunday, February 21, 2010

My Thoughts and Thoreau

My dad always used to tell me, "Imitation is the highest form of flattery." I couldn't help thinking about that the whole class period, when we were talking about how Thoreau imitated Emerson. It was just so ironic to me, because the man whom Thoreau imitated out of admiration said, "Imitation is suicide." So, in his case it would appear that imitation wouldn't be at all flattering to Emerson, because that means Thoreau obviously didn't read "Self-Reliance". Well, at least not yet. Thoreau obviously became quite self-reliant. My favorite quote that was mentioned in class on Thursday was "I am under an awful necessity to be what I am." Mostly, because I've been struggling with that same weight. It's harder than you think. But that's one thing I won't resign. I know we also talked about how in some cases the resistance becomes foolishness. Sometimes, if we "embrace the slave mentality" as Steen said in class, happiness will come naturally. That's what I've been doing in most areas of my life since I've been breathing, but in others I was foolishly persistent. I've recently reversed those roles and I've never been happier. For example, my whole life I just went along with what everyone expected from me. Yeah, I was an individual, but I only showed my individuality around the people who wanted to see it. Until one day after watching "The Dead Poet's Society," I realized that if I died, My parents wouldn't have ever known me. Really known who I was-I mean. In that movie they quote Thoreau's Walden, and the part that got me is when he says, "when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." So, I dropped the slave mentality on that area of my life, and I started allowing some relief from the "awful necessity to be what I am." On the other hand, I was foolishly persistent in love. I dated this guy for 3 years who was a complete jerk. Now, I realize that I liked the relationship, because it was difficult. I enjoyed the struggle. "A foolish consistency in the hobgoblin of little minds" (Emerson). Resistance became familiar to me, so I just remained consistent. I realized things don't always have to be a fight. Now, I'm dating someone who treats me wonderfully. Now, you might be wondering how this whole dating thing relates. Well, it does and here's why.
When I started dating my current boyfriend (Nathan), My brother (Jordy) told me he didn't respect me anymore, because I was taking the easy route.
So, basically his argument was that with my former boyfriend (Kaleb) I'd had this epic love full of anger, passion, heartbreak, which literally drove me insane and I fought really hard to stay with him and stay happy. That's why Jordy respected me. He said it was so admirable to see the way I fought for love.
On the other hand, Nathan treats me really well, and everything is really easy. It's easy to laugh, to smile, and to find peace of mind. I love it! I love not having to struggle every second. Maybe that's a slave mentality, like my brother seems to think, but if it is- I embrace it. I realized that sometimes you just gotta let yourself be happy. That's what I'm doing now. So, I know it's a lot to follow, but that's how I've reversed the roles. I'm more open about what I want to do with my life. I make my own decisions now, although my parents still think they have the authority to make them for me. Yet, in way, I suppose I can see the appeal of the life of non-resistance. At the end of the day, I think it just depends on what makes you happy.
Like Tony said in class, it probably made Thoreau super happy to resist and he didn't see it as a burden. To some people, Resistance is all that stands in the way of their happiness.

Favorite Quotes:
"What is once well done is done for ever."
"I was not born to be forced. I will breathe after my own fashion."
"It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right."

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Self-Reliance and Intuition

I read "Self-Reliance" for the first time a long time ago, and I loved it. Ever since I was 13 or 14 my favorite quote has been, "There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion." I was writing it on all my notebooks and posting it on my aim profile. Really, for a 13 year old girl-that quote is a life-saver. That's just the time in my life, when I was trying to figure myself out. All the 7th grade girls want the same book bags, shoes, clothes, boy. Thinking about college, I guess there's quite a few girls who haven't grown out of that. Well, they didn't have Emerson like I did. SUICIDE. Emerson called imitation suicide, and I knew he was right. Also, around this time in my life I had stumbled upon a clip of someone reading Mark Twain on my computer's Encarta Encyclopedia. My brother and I used to play it multiple times a day, because we thought it was the funniest thing we'd ever heard. I still catch myself saying it: "It was the first time in my life I had to decide betwixt to things, and I knowed it." Ha! I still laugh. I just laughed writing it, but in all seriousness that was the point in my life when I was deciding between "suicide" or individuality. ("And I knowed it")
Anyway, one new point we brought up this week in our class discussion about self-reliance is the question of intuition. Suzanne asked us what the relationship was between our intuition and imagination, passion, reason, and superstition. Well, I believe that our imagination get's the best of us, when we have what I like to call those "epicly bad feelings" otherwise known as intuition. When I get those feelings, I know that something bad will happen. I never know exactly what it is, though most times I can guess. That's where the imagination comes in. The relationship between our imagination and our intution is a dangerous one, because with intution-our reason is abandoned. At least, mine is. November 15, I think four years ago- I got one of these epicly bad feelings. I told my mother that I didn't want to leave the house that day, which to her didn't seem reasonable at all. I didn't really care about reason at that point. That feeling overpowered everything else. Nevertheless, she forced me to go with her, because she said we needed to visit my grandparents. It was raining. About 5 minutes down the road, the car in the other lane driving toward us hydroplaned and came into our lane. I was sure I was going to die. The car swerved into the ditch just inches away. I wondered why I'd even had such a terrible feeling. What good had my intution done? I was still forced to get into the car, and more importantly, I didn't die. It's not like I'm complaining, but it really made me wonder what the point was in my intuition. I could sense danger, but It wasn't up to me to avoid it. All it really did for me was turn my imagination against me causing me to dream up every insanely unlikely way I could die or be injured that day. Almost like how I feel after I finish watching a "Final Destination" movie.
So, what throws off intuition?? Maybe fate. I don't think we can avoid any of the things we foresee, or fore"feel." Whatever it is. It's like the Mothman. It let's us know something bad will happen, but there's no way we can stop it-and it's just creepy as hell. So, those are my thoughts on intuition.
Here are some of my other favorite quotes from "Self-Reliance":
"Who has more soul than I, masters me, though he should not raise a finger."
"What I must do is all that concerns me, not what people think."
"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of our own mind."

Thursday, February 4, 2010

This week's discussion was great! Other than talking about the ninja-like characteristics that women have, we talked about another point that interested me:Eliza Wharton's circumstances in comparison to those of modern times. In alot of ways things have changed, but there are still some of the same problems. Women have a lot more freedom, but I think society still views women in a negative light if they live an independent lifestyle. Would Eliza Wharton's story have been so tragic if her society had offered her more than marriage as a way of life? Probably not. Considering Marriage was the only thing a woman could really achieve with her life, well, marriage and motherhood(but only if motherhood was within marriage), there are a lot more choices for women in modern society. We,too, can have sucessful careers in nearly any field we choose, and we still have the option of marriage and motherhood if we desire it.

This past week I read The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. That novel is set in the future at a point when birthrates are really low. Women are no longer allowed to read or write, which suggests that it is the women's education that leads them away from a life of motherhood. Honestly, there is some truth in this. More women are deciding not to have children or to wait much longer to have them if they do.In my case, I still have grad school to look forward to and whatever career follows that. I'd like to wait till all of that stuff is figured out. It's just easier. Anyway, I've still kinda got my mind set on the horrors within The Handmaid's Tale.

...So, I'm pretty frustrated, because I tried to submit my blog and the action "failed." I don't know why, but some of it wasn't auto-saved.So, half of my stuff isn't here anymore...anyway it was somewhere along these lines...

This book along with The Handmaid's Tale really got me thinking about women's rights. It was kinda odd how none of Eliza's friends really promoted or stuck up for Eliza's freedom as a woman. Yet, it's impossible for us to completely understand, because we can't place ourselves in their society to understand the restrictions on their freedom. If anyone is interested in this view, though, I strongly suggest The Handmaid's Tale. It's really good, and I think there is a movie,too. It kinda takes a glimpse at the future, and how women's freedom and improved educational opportunities presented a danger to society, but also the dangers that came once their rights were taken away again.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Points of interest from The Conquest of New Spain

First, I would like to discuss the gruesome imagry within the context of the book, especially describing Aztec temples and sacrifice rituals. Here is an interesting article about the Aztec religion, which discusses the topic of human sacrifice: http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_gx5214/is_2003/ai_n19132056
The vivid descriptions within Diaz del Castillo's writing reminded me of the film, Apocalypto, which is centered around Mayans, but the sacrafice scene is similar to the sacrifice rituals of the Aztecs. Here's a video clip from the sacrifice scene in Apocalypto: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYqEi2d9zEc
Within our reading we can visualize something just as disturbing, "the walls of the shrine also were so caked with blood and the floor so bathed in it that the stench was worse than that of any slaughter-house in Spain" (Castillo 236).
The visualitzation of bloody temples and shrines is so horific that I was shocked to be reading such gruesome images within an early American piece of literature, especially since everybody is complaining how graphic modern day movies, video games, and literature are. We discuss the modern obsession with violence as if our country has degenerated from "what it once was." At least that's how I always saw it, until I began really observing the earliest of our country's literature for this class. I think Justin compared it to a Tarentino film, and I completely agree with him. Our country has always had a fascination with violence since the pilgrims settled here. It couldn't have come from no where--it must be something within our nature.
Now, I've always considered myself to be against violence, but then I ask myself: why were the images of violence and sacrifice the most interesting thing I read within this text? Really!
I certaintly don't promote violence, yet something within me finds it entertaining.
Maybe, we should stop blaming video games for all the violence among teens, because some of the images within Diaz del Castillo's writing disturbed me far more than anything I saw when I played Silent Hill on xbox. By the way, Montezuma was the first Hannibal Lecter! ["I have heard that they used to cook him the flesh of young boys"(Castillo 225).] Anyway, I guess my point is that violence isn't really something we can pin on the country or the media. One thing that does come to mind is something Ishmael Beah said during the Common Book Convocation that has stuck with me ever since. He said that returning to Sierra Leone now would make him feel safer than walking around on the streets of New York. That statement really hit me. I mean is our country really to the point where a former child soldier feels safer in the land where violence consumed his life than he would strolling around one of our nation's most beloved cities?? I guess the reason is that here we don't feel the full weight of violence-we see the glory, but not the consequences. Just like the cartoon idea that was mentioned in the video we watched in class. I guess we can't escape whatever it is within our human nature that finds violence so appealing, but in order to balance it, it is necessary to be educated on the effects of violence. You can't just tell a kid, "Don't do this at home." They gotta see the reality of what could happen if they did. The problem isn't violence, the problem is ignorance.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Puritan View of Punishment

In our class discussion, someone brought up the point that Puritans generally view trials, tragedies, and trouble as a sign of God's disfavor or a form of punishment. This is very consistent with our study of the witchtrials, yet within the text of Mary Rowlandson's captivity narrative we see a new view of tragedy. Mary Rowlandson viewed persecution as a gift from God. This is still a mainstream christian idea. Originally, the Puritan's were fleeing their country in search of religious freedom free from persecution. I think they realize, when they come to the new world that there is no way of escaping religious persecution, regarless of where you are. However, they themselves add to the religious persecution when they attempt to convert the Native Americans. In return, the Native Americans persecute them. This realization that persecution is inescapable leads to a reformation of their view of persecution. Of course, it has always been a theme within the bible that persecution is a blessing from God. But I think the experiences of the new world didn't so much change the idea that persecution is a sign of God's disfavor, but it reinforced the idea that they are God's chosen people. Mary Rowlandson quotes Hebrews 12:6 in her narrative, "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every Son whom he receiveth." She then writes, "now I see the Lord had his time to scourge and chasten me...And I hope I can say in some measure, as David did, It is good for me that I have been afflicted." I think it's pretty interesting that the Puritan's set out to teach the Indian savages about their religion, but It really seems like the Indian's taught them more about their own religion than they could teach themselves. One of the bible's main principles is humility, and that is what the Puritan's were lacking. Mary Rowlandson learned this through her experience with the Native Americans. She writes, "I have seen the extream vanity of this World: one hour I have been in health, and wealth, wanting nothing: but the next hour in sickness, and wounds, and death, having nothing but sorrow and affliciton." She specifically notes how she witnessed how God provided for the masses of Native Americans with just the wilderness to sustain them, "I cannot but stand in admiration to see the wonderful power of God, in providing for such a vast number of our Enemies in the Wilderness, where there was nothing to be seen, but from hand to mouth." Basically, She learned of the vanity of the life she had been living when she would be so contented that she claims to have wished for affliction. Her affliction came and did show her how vain her life had been. Because of the lesson her affliction taught her, she really demonstrates that it is a blessing from God to be afflicted, because it leads to a greater understanding of God. She writes, " The Lord hath shewed me the vanity of vanities, and vexation of spirit; that they are but a shadow, a blsast, a bubble, and things of no continuance; that me must rely on God himself, and our whole dependance must be upon him." I think that this is a really profound lesson that Rowlandson is sharing with her community. She's telling them, especially the one's who did not experience such levels of suffering, that their way of life is vain, and that is not how God wants life to be for them. It's even more that she is a woman, at this time, delivering such a strong and influential message.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Losing Faith

I think that "Young Goodman Brown" ties in wonderfully with Mather's On Witchcraft, not just because of the obviously shared topic of witchcraft, but because they both tell a story of what happenes once we lose sight of our faith. Goodman Brown leaves his angelic wife, Faith, with hopes that when he returned all would be well. As if he expected that there would be no consequences to his actions. In the beginning, he knows that she suspects something bad will come of his going, but he ignores that knowledge. Basically, saying that he'll be good whenever he's finished doing bad. "Well, she's a blessed angel on earth; and after this one night I'll cling to her skirts and follow her to heaven." He abandons his faith in search of knowledge and tangible certainty without realizing that this kind of quest will destroy faith. In Hebrews 11:1, faith is described, "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Because Goodman Brown loses all certainty after seeing Faith there in the woods that night, it can be assumed that his "Faith" is gone. The blind certainty is gone. He went in search of knowledge, but found more doubt. His situation was ultimately worse, because now he didn't have certainty in his faith. The Bible also says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding" (Prov. 3:5). Goodman Brown did not stick to this Purtian dependency on God for knowledge or understanding. I see Goodman Brown as a warning against the life of gloom that follows abandoning one's faith in search of worldy knowledge. It warns that it isn't something you can return to. This is something people still do today. We live up our youth, without considering the consequences, and many assume that they'll have time to make condolences once the time of fun is over. But I think we all find, that we can never go back. Just like we can never return to the innocent view of the world we had as children, once we learn about war, murder, poverty, and we witness intentional cruelty. Sure, we can look back at the way we saw things as children, but never through the same eyes. The view has a darker tint. That's what Goodman Brown experiences when he looks upon his lovely angelic Faith after having seen a glimpse into the knowledge of evil. He still sees her, but it's tainted. There's no going back.
Anyway...the Puritan's did this during the witch trials. They lost sight in their principles and their faith. The let their fear of Satan over power their fear of God. If Satan was working within their society, which was something Mather's could feel and so eloquently wrote about. Yet, it wasn't the the witchcraft that signified the Devil's possesion of their society, but the way in which the Puritans lost sight of their faith in response to their fear. Mather's saw the witchcraft as a means of distraction. He really called it for what it was. He wrote, "If we allow the Mad Dogs of Hell to poyson us by biting us, we shall imagine taht we see ntohing but such things about us, and like such things fly upon all that we see....But what shall be done to cure these Distractions?" They took their focus off the fear of the lord, which according to the bible is "the beginning of all understanding." and they turned against each other, because they were afraid of the bodily harm that may come to them if they were accused so they all reached a point of histeria where they began to accuse each other. Really, the one's who died, because they refused to confess in order to spare their lives were the only one's who stuck to their faith. They may be seen as stubborn and foolish for dying, when they could have told one lie to save their life. Yet, the bible says, "Do not fear those who kill the body but are unable to kill the soul; but rather fear him who is able to destroy both body and soul in hell" (Matthew 10:28). Thus, the original "Puritan" society ceased to exist. The surviors of the witchtrials were hypocrits. A hypocrit is someone who speaks the words, but does not believe them. They couldn't return to the the faith-based society, but rather became one of self-righteousness in attempts to mask what had really happened. And the country just degenrated from there. They came off looking like a bunch of crazy assholes, which made the "christian" religion less and less appealing to posterity. The Devil won. So...I guess that's the warning I saw in Young Goodman Brown and the witchtrials. You can't go back to the faith that you abandon. If you risk the glance away, when you look back it may already be just a childhood delusion or a mocking version of what it used to be.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

My thoughts on Mather's On Witchcraft

When I began reading Cotton Mather's On Witchcraft, I already had some preconceptions about the text. I am familiar with the Witch trials of our nation's early history, as well as the how the puritan people were viewed. Having read Arthur Miller's The Crucible along with the history books, I had an image of the Puritan people as the one's at fault for the whole ordeal. They had always been presented as crazy extremists whose fixation with judgment led them to make pariahs out of any person who made the slightest step out of the lines of their strict guidelines as the chosen people of God. So, needless to say, I was expecting the same out of Cotton Mather's On Witchcraft, but so far I have been surprised. Initially, I was laughing through his over italicized and outlandish descriptions of their purpose and existence within New England. I was prepared to find his "outdated" ideology quite ridiculous, but the more I read I found myself believing him. Once I sensed the genuinness in his thought, I began to take him seriously. After I'd freed myself of premeditated prejudice, everything he was saying began to make sense. I started to believe it. Maybe other people read this and still find the words of a crazy Puritan minister. I know someone mentioned in class that they were amazed at Mather's ability to manipulate. Perhaps that's what it is. If that is, indeed, the case, I applaud Mather for his mastery of language and human thought, which enabled him to write such a succesfully manipulative piece of literature. Nevertheless, this is why is what made sense to me. On the bottom of page 16, Mathers writes, "...the Wretches have proceeded so far, as to Concert and Consult the Methods of Rooting out the Christian Religion from this Country, and setting up instead of it, perhaps a more gross Diabolism, than ever the World saw before." That quote popped of the page to me. I stopped and asked myself the question: where is Christianity in America today? I see the Christian religion being rooted out of our country! People have attempted to pass legislation that would remove the ten commandments and other Christian fixtures from our courthouses and such. We are far from the puritan days in our nation! I just kept thinking, "Man, if only Ole' Cotton were alive today. I'd like to see what he'd write about the Devil's work in our society." Suzanne mentioned the quotation in class today something along the lines of: "The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist." If that's the case, I'm pretty sure the Devil has nearly won. Hardly anyone believes the devil exists and hardly anyone even believes in evil. That's pretty shocking compared to the views of Mather's society. One other point I'd liketo make is how Mather's projects New England in comparison to the other nations that had fallen to witchcraft. He writes, "The Kingdoms of Sweden, Denmark, Scotland, yea and England it self, as well as the Province of New England, have had their Storms of Witchcrafts breaking upon them, which have made most Lamentable Devastations: which also I wish, may be The Last." This passage makes me wonder what gives Mather the hope that New England won't succumb to the evils as the other nations had. Or does he have that hope at all? Partly, I believe that Mather shows his self-seeking motive when he admits that he wants the notice of being a part of an end to these evil distractions. He writes, "It is wonderfully necessary, that some healing Attempts be made: And I must confess (If I may speak so much) like a Nazianzen, I am so desirous of a share in them, that if geing thrown overboard, were needful to allay the Storm, I should think Dying a Trifle to be undergone, for so great a Blessedness." Maybe his motives for this blessedness are purely for the glory of God, but I really believe he wanted the credit, especially after learning about his life of living in his father's shadow. What better way to one up daddy's job as the President of Harvard, than to defeat Satan?
Favorite Quote from the reading: "The best man that has ever lived has been called a Witch."