Response to Persepolis and interview with Marjane Satrapi

I thought the excerpt from Persepolis was relatively straightforward and easy to understand.  It was about a somewhat hot-button issue, which certainly made it interesting.  I had a little trouble figuring out where the narrator actually stood on the political issues surrounding her; at times it seemed she was pro-government, at times anti-government, sometimes capitalist, sometimes Marxist.  I eventually came to the conclusion that she seems to have changed her mind somewhere in the middle of the comic, and then changed her mind again right before the end, but I am not sure.  Overall I really liked this graphic memoir.

I thought the interview with Marjane Satrapi was a nice way of giving context to the work of Perseplois as a whole; it filled in some of the blanks left by the excerpt.  This interview got me interested enough that I think I would like to see the film as well.  I wasn't sure what to think of the author in the interview, but it was clear that she was proud of her work and pleased with the outcome.  The most interesting part to me was the fact that she was given total control over the film adaptation, something that (I think) is pretty rare.  That is the biggest thing that actually makes me want to see the movie.

Pets ≠ People

My dog Eve died this summer.  She was a Rottweiler, and although I am of course biased, she was the most gorgeous dog I’ve ever seen.  Shiny coat, muscular build, perfect proportions.  She was intelligent, obedient, and loyal; really, she was just an overall great pet.  I suppose this is why my mom had such a hard time when she died.

When my brother and I were kids and my mom got home in the afternoon, she would usually walk past us (sometimes going as far as to actually nudge one of us out of the way) to say hi to the dog first.  She always said that Eve was her third child, but it often felt like she was the first child, or sometimes the only one.  Likewise, Eve would mope on the couch all day while Mom was at work, getting up only to take a drink of water or scratch at the front door to be let out.  The two were horribly codependent.  So in May when my mom found out that one of Eve’s kidneys was failing, it was really like she was watching her child die.

Mom and the dog were back in Jacksonville while I was in Tallahassee, so I couldn’t be there to help her, but we talked almost every day, and almost every day it ended with Mom in tears over the dog.  I personally felt like it was a little much.  Don’t get me wrong; I loved that dog.  My eyes even started to well up a bit while I sat down to think about writing this essay, remembering how on Christmas we’d put on Eve’s jingle bell collar and call her “Christmas Eve” and let her unwrap all the presents for us.  But I think I loved the dog like a dog should be loved:  with the realization that she was a pet and not a human.

I’m not sure if my mom is unhealthy, me callous, or maybe both.  Mom is no longer dragging herself about like one of the people in an antidepressant commercial, but she still cries on each “anniversary” (observed every month) of Eve’s death.  I still miss Eve and think about her from time to time, but I spend more time thinking about how much I loathe my grandparents’ Chihuahua-rat terrier mix, or how much I love my roommate’s chocolate lab that I’m slowly stealing from him.  I’m sure I’ll mourn the lab at some point (though certainly not the Chihuahua), but I’ll be sad and move on.  Dogs are wonderful pets, but they’re not people.

Responses to "Nightmare Studio" and Pyongyang

"Nightmare Studio" had a style that was very novel to me.  The author's words and pictures almost seemed like a stream of consciousness, just letting one idea flow from the next as naturally as possible (reminiscent of the new advertisements for Bing), which struck me as very interesting in a graphic form.  The author expressed ideas in an abstract way that was often hard to grasp completely, but still made sense in a strange way.  I wasn't sure exactly what the author was trying to say; is this simply a description of a dream he had?  I suppose it seemed more like a general example of what his dreams are often like, rather than referring to one dream in particular.  Overall I wasn't sure if this piece was craftily intricate or just overdone.

Pyongyang was also very novel to me.  The introduction about the author really hooked me when it pointed out that so few foreigners have ever seen P'yongyang; it made me feel like I was privileged to be accessing such information.  The author's narration was very straightforward (a nice contrast to most of the comics in this book), and I thought it very concretely grasped, as well as it could in such brevity, P'yongyang culture, and some of the reasons that their society is how it is.  This piece was more interesting from a perspective of intellectual curiosity for me.

Responses to Palestine, "Reflections of a Nonpolitical Man," and "The Black Veil"

My favorite part of the essay "Reflections of a Nonpolitical Man" was simply how articulate and well-reasoned it was.  I found that the author presented his arguments in a way that was very similar to human (or at least my own) thought patterns.  At first, I expected it to be a bit poking fun at nonpolitical people (if that was the author's aim then it escaped my notice), but it was surprising to find that he actually justified very nicely his lack of political activism.  I actually really liked the author's point of his striving for a broader political effect through his writing than through focusing on particular instances or issues, and overall found the essay to be very well written and an interesting new perspective.

"The Black Veil" was one of my favorite essays that I've yet read in this class.  I loved how the author's mundane job in a seemingly interesting field so closely paralleled his internal struggle with moving to the west coast and with people in general.  I thought his descriptions of San Francisco were maybe a bit too stereotyped, although I don't know if that's a fair criticism since we are to take what he says as fact since it is a memoir.  Overall I thought the narrator was appealing and likable, and I would like to read the entire piece.

Palestine escaped me for several reasons.  I had trouble with the physical organization of the piece:  I couldn't tell what was dialogue, what was narration, and in the case of dialogue, who was talking.  There were a lot of phrases and references that were unfamiliar to me, and the whole thing seemed like a very loosely assembled group of ideas.  That said, I didn't really understand the piece or what it was about, but would like to go back to it if I could understand some of those references that gave me trouble and figure out the layout of it a little better.

International Day of Peace

My birthday, September 21st (yes, today), is apparently also the International Day of Peace.  I find this interesting for several reasons, the first being that I've never heard of it before.  The second interesting thing about this is that for some reason the FSU wireless server (which I'm using right now) forbids access to the International Day of Peace website.  I'm not sure if there is a reason for this or if it is somehow in error, but, that said, I'm drawing this from Wikipedia.

Also known as World Peace Day, it was first celebrated in 1981, and is commonly recognized by a ceasfire in warzones, or lack of war altogether.  There is a "Peace Bell" at the UN headquarters, made of coins from countries around the world, rung on World Peace Day every year.  The Bell was donated by Japan, intended to be symbolic of the "cost" of war.  This year (today), comedy clubs around the world are participating in a program called "Stand Up for International Peace" in hopes of drawing media attention to the effort.

Other interesting September 21st events include the birth of Stephen King, the Death of Virgil, the first publication of the Hobbit, and, of course, my birth.  And to celebrate my birth and World Peace and the rest, I'll be sitting through six hours of classes and coming home to spend roughly as long studying.  Happy World Peace Day!

Responses to "Cancer Made me a Shallower Person," "Caring for Your Introvert," and "June: Circle K Recipes"

I found Miriam Engelberg's "Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person" motivating in a strange way.  I thoroughly enjoyed her dry sense of humor throughout the comic (particularly the allusion to a mechanic working on a car), especially given the subject matter.  I also liked that she was very forthcoming about her own flaws, like the fact that she felt a need to tell everyone with whom she came into contact about her diagnosis.  It was interesting reading what she went through, and while I've never been through anything similar, it seemed that her thoughts and feelings (and more particularly the way she recounted them in the memoir) were very realistic and human and therefore relatable on some level.

I was not sure what to think of Jonathan Rauch's "Caring for Your Introvert."  The first thing that I noticed was that the introduction was very elementary (a series of rhetorical questions leading to a "here's the answer" statement of thesis), but as I got further into the essay it occured to me that the introduction may have been satirical in some way.  Sometimes Rauch seemed to be tongue-in-cheek, and others completely serious, and I wasn't able to decide which tone he was aiming for.  He made some statements, particularly the one about introversion being an "orientation" rather than a choice, that seemed a little extravagant or strange, but not so much that they must have been satire.  I finished the essay having enjoyed it for the very reason that I did not know what to make of it.


The last reading, Karen Tei Yamashita's "June:  Circle K Recipes," was the least enjoyable to me.  It seemed to have little focus other than listing recipes and using them to set up vaguely related stories or sentiments, and I found her style very choppy in a way that was hard to understand.  She used many fragments in her writing, and while I understand that this is a perfectly acceptable use of literary license, it seemed to me that she didn't preface these fragments with enough context to make them easily understandable. 

Interview with a Psycho

Strange as it may seem, I still regularly keep in touch with my high school English teacher.  Her name is Ms. Chambliss, she's about 180 years old, three times a divorcee, and yet has more pep in her walk and more edge to her mind than my graduating class in its totality.  Chamby, as those few of us who could get away with it liked to call her, is certainly an acquired taste; her name was often used as a measure of hyperbole to describe something terrifying ("you better not hit on his girl again, he'll go Chambliss on your ass").  But I adored her.


So I recently e-mailed Chamby to touch base and let her know how everything was going for me.  I told her that this summer I had failed a class, and her response led to a back-and-forth between us that would not be at all a stretch to call an "interview."

In high school, Ms. Chambliss had been a stickler for not only attendance but attentiveness in class.  She swore by discipline and studiousness, and that's why I was shocked to read her response to my failing a class:  "Great job, party on!"  I took this as a tongue-in-cheek reprimand, and responded that, while I had certainly caught the college party bug this summer, I wouldn't let it get the best of me.  Again, she responded in her usual eccentric manner:

"I'm happy for you that your grades slipped because you discovered partying. Keep it up! Grades can be negotiated, but partying is #1.  All work and no play makes Jake a dull boy. You can do both and be successful, Honey Chile. It looks as though you are headed for a career in writing/teaching, and I can guarantee it will make you feel rewarded in some strange way. Take care."

I'm still not sure what she means, but as our e-mail "interview" continues, I'm actually starting to think she's being literal rather than sarcastic.  And if she is, it just shows not only that her reputation for slight psychosis is well-earned, but that the guise people present when they're in professional 9 to 5 mode is not always who they really are after they punch out for the day.

Responses to "What Helen Keller Saw," "Interviewing," and excerpt from Candyfreak

Cynthia Ozick's "What Helen Keller Saw" was basically a brief profile of Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan, with parts about other significant figures in Keller's life but the main focus remaining on Helen Keller.  The piece raised many questions about the way history views Keller, calling into question her authenticity on several accounts.  I found this interesting because I have never heard any of the accusations mentioned in Ozick's essay, like the charge of plagiarism concerning her story about fairies.  Ozick seemed to be defending Helen Keller in most cases, but for me personally, all the essay did was raise many questions about Helen Keller that weren't directly answered in the end.

Chapter Nine of the textbook, "Interviewing," was a short instructional piece on the process of interviewing for creative nonfiction.  I found most of it common knowledge, though I was surprised to read that most journalists don't use recorders or take verbatim notes.

The excerpt from Steve Almond's <i>Candyfreak</i> was a bit hard for me to follow.  I did enjoy the author's style, and I thought it had a few idiosyncratic details that made it interesting (like the narrator's losing his driver's license at the start of the trip), but overall I think it is difficult to become and remain enthused about unless you have a particular interest in candy or the behind-the-scenes life of small name candy-making.  It felt like watching an episode of Food Network's "Unwrapped," which is an interesting show to turn on for background noise and the occasional "huh, that's neat," but not something most people would watch on the edges of their seats.

PTSD

Interestingly and literally, I have almost no recall of my two years of junior high school.  The things I do recall seem less like memories and more like vague recollections of dreams I had while passed out drunk, and a lot of the time they're very different from what others who were there with me remember.  Sometimes I think it's like a mild case of post-traumatic stress disorder; those were probably the two worst years of my life.

Mostly I remember just feeling really awkward and not having any friends.  Only, most of the people I consider my closest friends now are people I met in junior high.  And when I tell them this, when I tell them about my memories of middle school friendlessness, they remind me of that.  But yet, despite the fact that I know I met them all in junior high, I almost don't remember it.  More so I remember them being there, and my having a sense of their having been there for a few years already, in early high school. 

I wonder if this horrible experience of junior high is somewhat universal?  It makes sense to me.  Seventh grade is about when puberty kicks into full swing, when hormones are raging, people are learning to be deceitful and cliquey, and some sense of the future starts to set in.  But I remember it being more than that; I was hopelessly distraught over something.  I just don't know what it was.  Looking back with an objective eye, I can say with a fair degree of conviction that it really was just normal pubescent kid stuff.  I felt weird, awkward, and lonely, but I remember it being so much more than that.  Only it wasn't.

Responses to The Winged Seed, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, and Blankets

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius was a very enjoyable read for me.  One of the first things I liked about it, something that I thought was reasserted throughout the excerpt, was that the narrator did not ask for the reader's sympathy in the self-pitying way that the narrators of many memoirs do.  What I mean by this is that while the situations in Heartbreaking Work were unfortunate and it was in fact very easy for the reader to feel sorry for the narrator, neither the author of the memoir nor his character in the narrative portrayed self-pity, in my opinion.  Eggers's character seemed almost unaware of the misfortune of his situation, and seemed to simply accept it and move on. 

The excerpt from Blankets was my favorite of these pieces.  I felt it was bursting with a literary value that did not come off (to me) as pretentious or contrived at all.  Thompson's first struggle--the break-up--was very universal and portrayed with a stark reality (excellently supported by the accompanying pictures) that made it very tangible, and the pressure to which he was subjected about college was also very easily identifiable.  I thought the symbolism (particularly the bits about "looking directly at the sun" and the ice as a "scab") was very well done, and the metaphors added a lot to the memoir.

As far as The Winged Seed, I didn't quite connect to it like I did the other two selections.  While it was well written and the topic of alienation in general was apparent to me, I feel that I missed the true point that Li-Young was trying to make.  I didn't see the connection between his linguistic struggles, his father's faith, and Ethel Black. 

Responses to "Memoir: A History" and excerpt from Eat, Pray, Love

The first text, "Memoir:  A History" was stylistically a bit strange in that it was a review of a review, but throughout the piece the sense of it being a review yielded to that of it being a cursory history of the genre of memoir.  I thought the piece did an excellent job of narrating the genre's history and pointing out its landmarks, such as the work of St. Augustine, the Book of Margery Kempe, and the secular movement that led to what most of today's memoir is.  Despite the fact that it was partially a critique of memoir in general, I thought the article did a good job of remaining objective, pointing out the genre's flaws as well as its positive qualities.

The excerpt from Eat, Pray, Love was a combination of memoir, travelogue, and profile (a profile of the narrator's sister).  It is difficult to react appropriately to this particular excerpt outside the context of the work as whole.  This particular short piece was mostly a profile with little scene or movement, and if that is an accurate sample of the book as a whole, I imagine it probably leaves the reader wanting.  Also (again this is said with only knowledge of the particular excerpt), I found the narrator's martyrdom to be a little irritating, though perhaps the rest of the book justifies that aspect of her.

Responses to Chapters 1 & 2 of Creating Nonfiction

The first two chapters of Creating Nonfiction served as a very general introduction to the topic of "creative nonfiction," discussing what it does and doesn't encompass and the subgenres therein.  The text gives vague descriptions of both what is creative nonfiction and what is subgenres are, mostly through the use of example rather than definition.  These subgenres include memoir; essay; critiques, rants, and reviews; lyric and reflective essays; place writing; the city essay; and literary journalism.

I found the text to be very subjective, casting judgment calls on many types of creative nonfiction.  I believe the fact that the text deems each category worthy or unworthy, deeming it so as if it were fact, detracts severely from its objectivity and therefore from its authority.  I hope to see more objectivity and strict exposition from the rest of the book.