Friday, May 15, 2015

The End (of Sag Harbor)

This entire semester as a whole has been eye-opening to me because I’ve gotten to truly understand how complicated and even nostalgic coming of age can be. Seeing the seniors having their last day of high school today, and knowing that I’m going to graduating in a year, I found a big connection with the final chapter of Sag Harbor.

For the longest time, elementary school, middle school, and high school served as a constant in my life. I knew where I would be everyday, what I would study, and who I would go to school with. I didn’t really consider my life past high school very much at all. Benji’s comment during the Sag Harbor Hills Labor Day Party stuck out to me because it articulates my perspectives of life until recently. “We plotted and we planned and next year came around and we were in the same place. Old reliable,” (Whitehead 259). I never stopped to wonder about the bigger picture, but always focused on the small, day-to-day things. I feel that here, older Ben(ji) is coming to the same realization that I am, which is that as children we had this continuous sense of dependability, but it isn’t going to last forever.

Going along with this idea, something else that Benji mentioned that stood out to me was when he starts noticing new kids at the Labor Day Party, and sees younger versions of himself and his friends in them. “There was this new gang of kids, boys and girls I hadn’t seen all summer. Where did they come from, acting like they owned the street? As if these were not our races they were running...Our replacements,” (Whitehead 261). The tone of this quote is almost indignant and nostalgic. My interpretation of what the author’s trying to say from this is that life keeps going, and I have to say that I completely agree. Every once in a while, I’ll look at the underclassmen roaming the halls and I can’t stop thinking, “That was me three, four years ago.” It’s kind of shocking to realize that you’ve devoted so many years to Uni and that while their Uni career is starting, yours is also ending. It’s liberating to know that you are almost done and can start a new part of your life where you’ll be (presumably) more mature and independent, but it’s also sad because you know that what you’ve gotten used to is almost over.

Lastly, this chapter isn’t all melancholy, and I want to point out that Whitehead also makes this chapter, specifically towards the end, very optimistic. “I thought about school. I had a week to get a new plan together. I had to get some new records. I needed new clothes, too. I was definitely more together than I was at the start of the summer. It was going to be a great year. I was sure of it,” (Whitehead 272, 273). Benji in this quote is ready to start a new chapter of his life, and he’s mentally and emotionally prepared for it. Like him, I’m also super excited to become more of an adult/ come of age. I honestly do want to try to reinvent myself and try something new when I graduate. As much as I’ll miss those five years of my life, I know that there’s so much more out there that I’ll be able to see and do.  

Overall, coming of age can be sentimental. Benji in this last chapter experiences a wistful view of his past, but also an eagerness for the future. I can understand his point of view; on the one half, you want to grow up and be independent for once, but at the same time you also miss everything that you’ve already known. Part of growing up is realizing that things aren’t going to stay the same, and accepting that. Overall, coming of age is going to be difficult and prove to be nostalgic at times, but I’m prepared for it, and I’m excited to see where it takes me.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

The Ending Of Black Swan Green

Black Swan Green was a book that I wouldn’t have ever picked up had it not taken this class, and I honestly have to say that I loved it. I was sad to have finally completed it because it was remarkably interesting and compelling, but having finished it I have to say that I’m conflicted by the last chapter/ ending of the novel.


First of all, I have to say that loved the ending as a whole. David Mitchell tied everything up together very smoothly and left out very little in terms of loose ends. The first thing that comes to mind when I say this is the backstory of the old lady in the first chapter, his family dynamic, and even Ross Wilcox. Mitchell really demonstrating that Jason has reached an internal resolution towards the end of the novel and is ready for a new chapter in his life, no pun intended. Another aspect of the ending that I enjoyed was the spot in Jason’s life where the book ended. I think it was an ideal moment to stop the novel because it’s during a transitional moment in Jason’s life. He feels more confident with who he is as a person after having overcome his a lot of his insecurities that spanned a large part of the book, and he’s going to move and start a new life elsewhere. It seems the best, most logical place with which to stop without having to the emergence of any other underlying themes. Also, I think that the book’s closure leaves the reader with a sense that Jason is going to be okay emotionally and that he’s really now fully immersed in his coming of age. He’s a little broken up about his family’s situation, but his sister tells him that he needs to be strong and that that things’ll get better.


Going along with all of this (and contradicting myself slightly) I also have to say that I simultaneously felt like the ending was lacking. Mainly the issues I have with it are really just preferential, and are the same issues that I have with basically every book I read. One thing I wanted to nit pick on what that I would have liked to have had the book end a little while after he starts his new life outside of Black Swan Green. Although it seems logical to end at that moment in Jason’s life, like I mentioned, I’m also curious to see how that self-confidence in the book extends to his new life outside of his native town, the only place he’s really known. Will he reinvent himself? Will he get picked on? Jason is such a compelling character, and there’s a part of me that is always going to wonder how Jason’s life unfolds. We’ve been discussing in class really thoroughly how big of an impact this year has been with him in terms of the whole coming of age processes of finding and being more comfortable in his own skin, and I wanted to see where that takes him. It’s just kind of difficult to end there when you are very engaged in the story and you know there’s going to be so much more that’s going to happen.
So that’s my little rant about the final chapter of this book. Overall, I thought it was fantastic because the author does a great job of making Jason’s story seem authentic, and the little moments where I get “annoyed” with the novel are just due to me wishing the author would add  a bit more to the novel.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Goose Fair

A chapter that I thought was really thought provoking was the Goose Fair where Jason was deciding whether or not to keep Ross Wilcox’s wallet. It was a really good scene, especially the beginning and towards the end, to consider when we are thinking about coming of age and different aspects of Jason Taylor’s character as he’s put into such an intense scenario for someone that age. I ended the scene really liking Jason even more as a character.

At first, when I read that Jason was taking the wallet, I have to say that I was really disappointed with him. Jason has had to go through a lot of crap with Ross, I’m not denying that, but what I honestly love about him as a character is that he has such a good moral compass. Seeing that he was resorting to revenge like that made me disillusioned with him because I felt like he had lowered himself to Ross Wilcox’s level. “The prosecution (a) pointed out it wasn't my money and (b) considered the panic Ross Wilcox’d feel when he lost all this money. The defense produced (a) the dissected mouse head in my pencil case, (b) the drawings of me eating my dick on blackboards, and (c) the never ending Hey Maggot? How’s the s-s-s-sssssspeech therapy going, Maggot?” (Mitchell 242). He had understandable reasons for doing what he did, but I still don’t think that revenge is the best way to handle any situation. Jason wants to have control over Ross for the first time in his life, and he thinks that after all the crap that he’s been put through, he deserves at least that much. I’m conflicted here because  I want Jason to have control of the situation for once, but I was also really wanting Jason to give the wallet back to his bully to come out the better person. I was slightly worried because the author made it seem as though he had made up his mind to keep the money, regardless of Ross’s intense agitation at not having recovered it, and that didn’t seem very Jason-like to me. The book up to this point had built up how good he was as a person, and I didn’t want to see that aspect of him fall apart because of how some jerk was treating him.  At the same time, I part of me also feel bad for Ross. He kind of deserves the temporary agitation at the fair for what he’s made a lot of kids go through, but it’s in this chapter that we get to learn about his terrible family dynamic that causes him to lash out violently towards others. He’s a product of his environment, and to a certain degree (I’m not completely justifying his actions) it’s not his fault.

I would have to say that the resolution for this chapter was really satisfying for me in terms of seeing Jason’s character evolve for the better. This chapter was just a really great example of how Jason’s coming of age is helping to enforcing moral principles and further develop his sense of sympathy towards. Even though Wilcox is a major ass to him all the time, Jason ends up giving him the wallet back because he doesn’t want Ross to go thru anymore anguish with Mr. Wilcox. He also realizes that he feels bad for Ross, and that they are both just scared kids at time, Jason with his bullies and Ross with his dad. It kind of goes to show that even in tough situations, Jason still cares about others and tries to make the right decision with them mind. At the end of the day, he doesn’t let people or situations affect the way he handles situations. I think that it’s these moments that really define a person, the small acts that show you peoples true selves, and Jason really comes out of this experience a better person.

Friday, April 10, 2015

The Most Relatable Novel Up to This Point

I would have to say that out of all the books that we’ve read, I’m enjoying Black Swan Green by David Mitchell the most. Although I’ve probably already said this for a couple of books, I retract my previous statements and say that this is by far the most relatable books. It really mixes in humor with family and peer dynamics, something that I remember far too well from my “younger” years.

One of the things that I find so identifiable with this novel is the family dynamic demonstrated in the Relatives chapter. In my experiences with family gatherings, and what I think the author evokes really well, is how awkward those types of interactions can end up becoming. Like I think David Mitchell explains this really well, there’s parents boasting on the kids behalf and them awkwardly, yet politely trying to argue with each other. I acted just like Jason did having his extended family over; quiet and trying to act unnoticeable. As shy as I tried to be, my aunts would start talking about how my cousins got accepted into this prestigious something or other, and I knew my mom would pull the unwanted spotlight onto me. Just like Jason didn’t want some of his family members to know about his poetry win, I didn’t want people to know that I got my yellow belt in taekwondo.

And then there’s those two adults, and they each think they’re right, and the other is wrong, but neither will admit to anything. And the entire time they are trying to be as polite as possible. I can just picture my aunts arguing over something really random, but being persistent about it. I think that Michael and Brian really showcase the rising tension and I think it’s just a great depiction of something that’s actually quite commonplace. But unlike the other books that we’ve been reading, although there is tangible tension, the chapter is considerably lighter and more humorous. Small quips are made, and everything gets smoothed out more or less in the end.

In terms of peer dynamic, I also think that the author does a great job of describing that realistically. Just reading the section where Jason takes the bus, or when he’s explaining his peers social hierarchy, it mentally brought me back to my time in elementary school. My perspective was a bit different since I’m a girl, but the dynamic is there in essence. Even at a young age, people start being broken up into different social groups, and like Jason, I was somewhere in the middle. And there’s always that one popular kid that you thinks a moron, and one kid that gets picked on. These scenes are more enjoyable by how innocently oblivious David Mitchell makes Jason out to be, like when he doesn’t know what a particular insult means. I remember not knowing any swear words until I was way out of elementary school. It’s also really interesting to note how similar my experiences were to Jason’s situations even though we live in different parts of the world and in different decades.

Overall, I’m really appreciating this book because I find it very close to my own life experiences. Obviously not everything is exact, but it’s still fun to compare and contrast. I’m really looking forward to reading more of this book!

Sylvie and Ruth

Even though we’ve officially finished reading Housekeeping I want to dedicate at least one post to it to. So for this post I wanted to consider one of the bigger discussion question that we’ve been talking about in class. Basically it was whether or not Sylvie is a good guardian Ruth.

Out of the entirety of the book, I would have to say that, based on the circumstances that Ruth is in, Sylvie is the one of the best guardians for her. Helen wasn’t very present in Ruth’s life at all, with Ruth’s recollections of her mother being that she was very distant and emotionally disconnected with her children. Sylvia did take care of the girls, but she held herself back a little emotionally. One of Ruth’s childhood memories was even if she flinched during an embrace, her grandmother would stop and pull back. Up to that point, she was, as much as I can discern from the reading, the most significant mother figure for the girls, but sadly she died. Then there’s Lily and Nona, and even from the brief time they were there you could tell that they honestly didn’t want to be there whatsoever, and they fretted too much over everything. Although the circumstances there less than optimal for her needing to take over, and right off the bat you can tell that she’s not ideal, Sylvie genuinely seems to care for the girls and wants to be there.

I think the biggest reason why Sylvie is the most well-suited guardian for Ruth they are both so similar. Sylvie and Ruth are introverted and don’t fit into society that well, but Sylvie kind of taught Ruth to be okay in her own skin. Just the scene with the park bench shows that Sylvie is above caring what other people might think about her. Like Ruth was articulating when she noticed that her sister was pressuring her, she doesn’t want to change. Sylvie respects that, and they feel comfortable with one another. Towards the end of the book we see that Ruth is content having followed Sylvie, and we see that that was possibly the best choice for Ruth’s happiness, given the other choices, like having to lead a forced, unnatural life as a town girl, that made her feel awkward and alone.

In terms of physical well-being, though, I think Sylvie does take a lot of risks with Ruth. One of the couple of times that this is demonstrated is when she lets the girls wander off and doesn’t come searching for them. It honestly shocked me when Sylvie was calmly reading, waiting for them to come back, disregarding the fact that they hadn’t slept at home. It could have been a potentially dangerous scenario because the girls could’ve hurt themselves. If anything had happened, no one would’ve been there to help them out or help would have gotten there at least a couple hours later. Sylvie is still adjusting her day to day, and subsequently Ruth’s, as if she were still living the transient lifestyle, but she needs to keep in mind that Ruth is still a kid. My biggest issue with Sylvie is that she’s reckless and kind of needs to be more mature in general. I understand her “free-spirit” pursuit of life, but there comes a limit when people’s lives could be at risk. She seems to take precaution to the wind.

Overall, although her approach to caregiving is considerably unorthodox, Sylvie is the best possible person to take care of Ruth, given the situation. She really understands Ruth, and doesn’t force her to be something that she doesn’t want to be. In my opinion, Sylvie still needs to be more responsible when it comes to the physically well-being of her protege, but at the end of the day, Ruth chose to follow Sylvie, and who better than yourself to decide who makes you the happies?

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Buddy, Buddy, Buddy

Something that we talked about in class recently was the fact that Esther is in a sort of emotional and mental bell jar that kind of distorts her view of people. Going along with that, I wanted to address that point and it in relation to how she portrays Buddy. These are just a bit of my (unorganized) thoughts to the topic.

Primarily, pretty early into the book, from the first moment we see him mentioned, Esther doesn’t depict him as that great of a person. Esther explained that from the beginning she had adored Buddy from a distance for a good number of years, and during that time, I think in her mind she kind of set an impossible standard for him to meet, and when he didn’t, she disliked him more and more. Also, I think like anyone his society molded him to be the person that he is, and the fact that Esther doesn’t really appreciate society that much, kind of translates over to her perception and description of Buddy. She depicts him as this dull, sort of awkward guy. One of those examples of disillusionment she gets with Buddy is right after she hears about his previous affair. “What I couldn’t stand was Buddy acting so pure, when all the time he’d been having an affair with that tarty waitress...” (Plath 71). She considers him a hypocrite because he makes himself out to be this really innocent person, but he really isn’t. I think she liked the idea of Buddy that she made in her head, because everyone was always telling her he was this great guy, but at the end of the day, she just didn’t find him compatible at all.

If we actually try to observe the parts where Buddy is mentioned in the books in an unbiased way, he doesn’t seem so bad. He reminds me of a sort of stereotypical average good guy of his time. He got good grades, went to a good school, and followed a solid profession. I’m not saying Buddy is perfect, because no one is, but he’s not this dull, phony person she makes him out to be. If feel kind of bad for Buddy when he asked Esther what is was about him that made women so crazy. For the first time we see Esther being in a better state mentally and emotionally, and it’s then that we see the first instance where we see Buddy show actual emotion and almost remorse. This sort of demonstrates that mixed with the fact that she was going through a lot of emotional turmoil and confusion, she slightly overplayed her distaste of Buddy,

Overall, this is just a bit of my muddled, and slightly unorganized thoughts on this topic. I think that Buddy wasn’t the persona Esther depicted him to be for the entirety of the novel, but he also wasn’t perfect, and he did have his questionable moments, but Esther’s bell jar did distort her perceptions of others.   

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Esther is relatable

I was reading through some of the blog posts, and it kind of inspired me to talk about something that I’d picked up on about Esther as a character. My idea is pretty basic, but I wanted to develop it further.
There are aspects of Esther’s personality and circumstances that I find to be pretty relatable. One of the reasons why I’m enjoying this book a lot is because I feel like I understand Esther. Our reactions to certain situations are similar, and although I’m not always going through everything she is, I feel like I get where she’s coming from.

The first reason why I feel I can connect to Esther is because of her fear of deciding what to do in life. The conversation she had with Jay Cee kind of mirrors how I feel about choosing a major for college. “What I always thought I had in mind was getting some big scholarship to graduate school or a grant to study all over Europe, and then I thought I might be a professor and write books of poems and be an editor… ‘I don’t really know,” I heard myself say. I felt a deep shock, hearing myself say that, because the minute I said it, I knew it was true.” A lot of adults lately have been asking me what I might want to go into, and when I was little, there were so many things that I had in mind. I wanted to be a linguist, a software developer, a doctor, or an engineer. Now I’m not so sure. I’m not against any of these per se, but now there are so many factors involved. Do I see myself doing this? How many years of school will I need to have done? What’s the average annual income of said profession?  

A second smaller aspect that I found relatable between us is our mutual need to excel academically. "I was taking one of those honors programs that teach you to think independently...Well, I studied those formulas, I went to class and watched balls roll down slides and listened to bells ring and by the end of the semester I had a straight A." Esther mentions that she is a hard worker and gets perfect grades and earns scholarships. We both a similar motivation in life when it comes to school. I found a parallel in my life through the fact that I’ve always pushed myself to be the best I could be in every academic scenario I was in. I feel like I understand her a bit more because we both started out as teacher’s pets and being goody-two-shoes.


Overall, this was just a small rant of how I see myself mirrored a bit in Esther, as we see her in the first half of the novel. She and I have similar motivations and issues in life. I also don't think this is something particular to just me, but I think others can connect with it as well. 

Saturday, February 21, 2015

The Catcher In the Rye vs, A Portrait of An Artist as a Young Man

So in this blog post I just wanted to compare the two books that we’ve been reading so far. I’m going to start out by saying that I was pleasantly surprised with both books, but if it came down to choosing just one, I would automatically have to say that The Catcher in the Rye is my favorite. It really came down to two major reasons though, which were readability and the main characters.

First of all, when it came down to it, The Catcher In the Rye was just so much easier to read than A Portrait of An Artist as a Young Man. This had to do with the authors’ choices in writing styles, and both were very different from one another. Salinger wrote directly to the audience and he chose to be concise with how he depicted scenes through Holden’s eyes. Going along with that, Holden’s thought process was easy to follow, and he is so open and direct with the reader about his feelings. The majority of the books that I’ve read don’t directly address the reader at all, and the fact that Holden does so, so matter of factly, makes me feel like I’m one of his close friends. I loved the fact that Holden would say stuff like,“...oh, you’d like her..” or something along the lines of, “...you’d believe me if you saw him...” Joyce, on the other hand, chose to fill the pages with nuances and subtext, and because of that, I didn’t feel as big a connection with Stephen as I did with Holden. There would be times when I would read and get lost in Joyce’s extremely complex sentences, so much so that I wouldn’t even catch on to what was actually happening to Stephen in real time. Take Stephen’s epiphany scene on the beach, for example. It took me longer than it should have to differentiate Stephen’s thoughts and actions, because in Joyce’s writing style he kind of melds those together. Don’t get me wrong, it was a good chapter, but it was kind of annoying having to read over sections multiple times to make sure that I hadn’t missed any of Stephen’s actions or thoughts.

Another thing that I enjoyed more about Salinger’s book was the main character. Surprisingly, both Stephen and Holden are quite similar as they face some sort of inner turmoil and depression, but even then, I enjoyed Holden as a character more. Holden was more genuine, down to earth, and selfless than Stephen. And Stephen on the other hand was self-centered, caused problems for himself, and didn’t care about anyone. I know this might sound terrible, but Holden actually did have more of a legitimate reason for which to be sad. The fact that Allie died really took a toll on Holden, and we see him being depressed and referencing the days when he was happy, which was when he was with Allie. Another thing was that even during his low points, he still cared about his family and others. He wanted to help out those nuns, although they weren’t even asking for donations, and he always cared for and thought of Phoebe. I’m not going to discredit Stephen journey to self-realization, but, in the end, he really made a lot of problems for himself. Although Stephen’s family did have monetary issues, he chose to seclude himself, make bad decisions, and he thought way too highly of himself (more than he should have). Both didn’t make the wisest of choices, but I liked Holden more because he just seemed like a better person in general. 

Overall, both books were pretty good, but I was able to more fully appreciate The Catcher in the Rye because it was so much easier to follow and the connection with characters was more tangible than with A Portrait of An Artist as a Young Man.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Stephen vs. Religion

While I was reading A Portrait of An Artist as a Young Man, I saw the recurring theme of religion as a big, and complicated part in Stephen’s life. I’ve thought for a while now that Stephen’s faith in the first half on the book, even during his extremely devout stages, is fueled not by religious devotion but by fear (of going to hell). The first mention of this I saw in the book would have to be at Clongowes right before he goes to bed. He said he had to,”.. undress and then kneel and say his own prayers and be in bed before the gas was lowered so that he might not go to hell.” I interpreted this passage as Stephen feeling as though he must do this because his teachers have scared him into believing. I mean, at this point, Stephen is a little kid, and I bet that if you tell a six-year old about how he should behave and that he might go to hell, it would obviously frighten them. Even when he prays you can tell that it’s not genuine, and “from the heart” per se, but more like repeating something absent-mindedly.

Another scene further on in the book that I think that ties in nicely with this is the incredibly intense, graphic, and terrifying sermon and the confession following it. Dedalus feels so impacted by the sermon, so much so that he even threw up. He felt as though the sermon had been directed towards him and repents and ends his sinful ways rather abruptly. The chapter ends with Stephen sighing in relief that his soul is being saved. We also have talked about Stephen wanting things for all the wrong reasons, and I think this is an example of this. I mean, of course we see that he highly regrets his actions, but I feel that a bigger part of him having repented was just to know that he was safe from going to hell, almost protecting himself. He does this for himself and not as much for the whole religiously deeper meaning of, “I changed to please God and to be able to do God’s bidding.” And also, when he is acting pious after his confession, he goes overboard, and I perceived this as him doing it just trying to please God, and kind of make the argument that he still feels bad about his sins, so he is still worth saving, and doesn’t have to go to hell.

This was just my interpretation of Stephen’s take on religion in the first part of the book. As he gets older, particularly towards the end of the book, his views become more complex, but earlier on in the book this idea was something that really caught my attention. The way Joyce described it seemed quite personal, and one of the things that I think Joyce wanted to say with this was that being forced into believing eventually unconsciously pushed him away from the religion.

Monday, January 26, 2015

Coming of Age


I’ve always wanted to grow up. There was always something so fascinating about being an adult to me because I loved the idea of things like getting to drive and work, of being independent and having money to buy things. When I was little, I idolized the mere idea of coming of age because I thought one day everything would magically come together and I would live the ideal life, like someone on TV. To my little five-year old self, coming of age meant getting to live the perfect life, own a big house, have a glamourous job, wear makeup, and even own a pet. I realize now that it’s much more complex than that. 

I agree with a point we had during class discussion that went something along the lines of, “...the majority of the change that happens with coming of age is more internal than anything else...” Like we see with Stephen, most of his changes occur within himself; how he sees himself and how he sees himself in relation to the world. He started out quite innocent and inexperienced in mind and body, but then later on his mind and actions get tainted and unchaste. I can relate to this change in perspective and actions, obviously not to the extent at which Stephen took it, but in small changes that I can see in myself. For example, I’ve lost my childish perceptions on vocabulary, in particular, swearing. Now, I hardly ever do this in general, but it isn’t at all the unspeakable act it used to be when I was a kid. When I was little, I was told that the word “stupid” was the foulest thing a human being could say, and I used to call it the “s” word. Now I know that that’s just silly, and I’ve grown up to be more accepting of different aspects of the world, like crude language, although I don’t try to swear.

Another significant point that shows the complexity of this idea was the something else that stood out to me in our coming of age discussion. I can definitely relate to it and it’s the fact that you don’t know when this process is happening to you, but when you reflect upon it, you recognize that you went through changes and aren’t the same person you were two years ago, or even a few months ago. Something small for me would probably be about getting my license six months ago, and the fact that I’ve had to be a lot more responsible. Starting even sophmore year I was still nervous about the idea of driving alone and going places without a family member because I’d never done anything like it before. Now, driving alone isn’t something that makes me uneasy at all, and I enjoy it. I don’t think once in this past year did I think, “Oh my gosh, I am undergoing emotional development on a path leading to adulthood!” I kind of just had to step up and be more independent because I was required to. I just think that it is so amazing how oblivious we can be to something so huge that is happening in our lives. At least for me, I couldn’t tell because these small changes manifested themselves in the small, everyday parts of my day. 

I could go on and on about this, but I’ve come to the conclusion that coming of age is really complicated, not in a bad way, just in a way that makes it hard to come up with a perfect definition that fits everyone. And, like I can see within myself, and we have seen with Stephen Dedalus, it’s also something not entirely visible to the naked idea, but more intrinsic to our souls/ minds.