I'll admit that I have not started my data sheet. I have barely done anything intelligent over winter break, and in fact have spent the last two days largely watching television and eating while visiting relatives. Last night, in fact, my sister and I ate leftover Italian food with straws because we couldn't find any forks at midnight. In short, I have become the complete opposite of the AP English student that we all have become so proud of being.
Today, I thought about my data sheet for the first time, then quickly dismissed it in favor of staring at some of the unique residents of the good state of Pennsylvania. By which I mean judging anyone wearing a Bumpit. Anyway, then I remembered that we have these blog things, and that I probably have a post due.
So here I am. Hello, AP English. It's been awhile. I'm ready to begin annotating, analyzing, and stressing out again. Hello, 20+ page data sheet. I know you're waiting to be born. Let's do this.
Tomorrow.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
It's Happening.
As I sit down to write this, the last vestiges of my dream are slipping from my mind. All I know is that it proves something. Something awful.
I was walking down the hallway on my way to English class amidst the usual bustle of students meandering between bells, when a teacher summoned me into his classroom. I obligingly sat down with the twenty or so other students in my room, all of them my classmates, as the teacher began to hand out scantron tests. At this point, I began to panic, before realizing that the infamous bubbles of the multiple choice test had already been filled out. In fact, this was a math test that all of us had taken a while ago. The teacher proceeded to tell us that we needed to fix our mistakes on the test, though it wasn't for points. While everyone else got to work fixing their mistakes, I glanced at the clock hanging ominously over my head. Oh no. It was time for AP English. I was trapped in this room doing math, and I was missing an important discussion.
I tried to rush my way through the math corrections, but I didn't understand the obscure problems, and the teacher hadn't given us any test to read the original questions from, just the useless scantron sheet. My panic grew as other students in the room completed their corrections and left for English class, while I remained unable to complete even one. The minute hand on the clock moved rapidly, English was almost over, and I had missed the most important discussion of the year. Because of math.
Finally, I snapped. I berated the teacher for trying to make me do math work during English time, and went on a rant about exactly how much I despised the subject, using a variety of colorful language. Finally, I stormed out of the classroom, entering the English classroom in a blind rage and taking a seat for the last five minutes of discussion. I loudly complained to Ms. Serensky about the injustice of the impromptu math quarantine, but she had no sympathy. I would never know what I had missed that day.
I am scared that, even though it is currently winter break, my subconscious mind is telling me to go back to AP English class. It's happening. The madness is sinking in.
I was walking down the hallway on my way to English class amidst the usual bustle of students meandering between bells, when a teacher summoned me into his classroom. I obligingly sat down with the twenty or so other students in my room, all of them my classmates, as the teacher began to hand out scantron tests. At this point, I began to panic, before realizing that the infamous bubbles of the multiple choice test had already been filled out. In fact, this was a math test that all of us had taken a while ago. The teacher proceeded to tell us that we needed to fix our mistakes on the test, though it wasn't for points. While everyone else got to work fixing their mistakes, I glanced at the clock hanging ominously over my head. Oh no. It was time for AP English. I was trapped in this room doing math, and I was missing an important discussion.
I tried to rush my way through the math corrections, but I didn't understand the obscure problems, and the teacher hadn't given us any test to read the original questions from, just the useless scantron sheet. My panic grew as other students in the room completed their corrections and left for English class, while I remained unable to complete even one. The minute hand on the clock moved rapidly, English was almost over, and I had missed the most important discussion of the year. Because of math.
Finally, I snapped. I berated the teacher for trying to make me do math work during English time, and went on a rant about exactly how much I despised the subject, using a variety of colorful language. Finally, I stormed out of the classroom, entering the English classroom in a blind rage and taking a seat for the last five minutes of discussion. I loudly complained to Ms. Serensky about the injustice of the impromptu math quarantine, but she had no sympathy. I would never know what I had missed that day.
I am scared that, even though it is currently winter break, my subconscious mind is telling me to go back to AP English class. It's happening. The madness is sinking in.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Impossible
During the holiday season, I always dread finding Christmas gifts. I enjoy shopping, sure, but spending hours in badly lit stores trying to find something that each of my family members will actually like presents a significant challenge. I usually give up and grab the first few items that seem like they could work, and then I feel awful for failing to put any effort into my gift-getting.
Even in the years I've actually tried, there was some hole in my plan. One year I designed t-shirts for every member of my family, only to be foiled by a lack of time and creativity. There's always one person that I simply can't find anything for. If I find perfect gifts for the first three people, then I'm always stumped by the fourth.
The problem is that I want to get the perfect gift for everyone, because subconsciously, I want to try to make everything perfect. This annoying drive for success makes classes like AP English possible, but annoys me to no end when it applies to real life. Fortunately, I will not receive failing grades from my family members if I get them boring gifts, so the need for perfection will inevitably be trumped by laziness.
Even in the years I've actually tried, there was some hole in my plan. One year I designed t-shirts for every member of my family, only to be foiled by a lack of time and creativity. There's always one person that I simply can't find anything for. If I find perfect gifts for the first three people, then I'm always stumped by the fourth.
The problem is that I want to get the perfect gift for everyone, because subconsciously, I want to try to make everything perfect. This annoying drive for success makes classes like AP English possible, but annoys me to no end when it applies to real life. Fortunately, I will not receive failing grades from my family members if I get them boring gifts, so the need for perfection will inevitably be trumped by laziness.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Rebellion (Lies)
Since we startled reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, our discussions have circled around but barely touched on the impact of rebellion on society. A lot of popular books and movies center on the act of rebellion, and we love the thrill of cheering on the underdogs and willing them to overtake the system and stick it to the man.
Examples:
1. Matilda, a children's movie that I watched, admittedly, too often in my youth, in which a girl with telekinetic powers overthrows her mean principal, the Trunchbull, leading her school into anarchy. Obviously this movie is not realistic, but even if a psychic nine year old could take down an entire school, what benefits would come from it? There would be a school run by children in which everyone napped and ate snacks and did arts and crafts. Education at its finest.
2. Fight Club, one of my all time favorite books/movies, which centers on oppressed men trying to break free of the hold of society and rediscover life. While I'd say that the characters have a high level of success, there are many repercussions, and in the end the rebellion grows into its own being. I kind of hoped that One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest would end up like this, since I drew some parallels between the characters of McMurphy and Tyler Durden, and now that I think about it, there are some strikingly similar themes... but in the end, I feel like the men of Fight Club did it better.
3. 1984. Apologies for bringing this book up again, but it was on my mind. We cheer on Winston, the protagonist, as he slowly stumbles his way through rebellion, but his cause feels infinitely more hopeless, even more so than the plight of the men on Nurse Ratched's ward.
I could list more, but this post would be ridiculous and unnecessary. All of these rebellions accomplish little in the grander scheme of the universes that their protagonists reside in, but to the viewer/reader, the act of rebelling and the threat of anarchy provides some deep sense of consolation. We can't truly rebel in our own lives-- I don't think any one of us is going to overthrow Ms. Serensky and institute nap time instead of English class, or start a secret fight club in the basement of the school, or try to take down the government with a journal... hopefully-- but we can work out our frustrations through the characters who can.
***
If you're interested, this is the song my title refers to.
Examples:
1. Matilda, a children's movie that I watched, admittedly, too often in my youth, in which a girl with telekinetic powers overthrows her mean principal, the Trunchbull, leading her school into anarchy. Obviously this movie is not realistic, but even if a psychic nine year old could take down an entire school, what benefits would come from it? There would be a school run by children in which everyone napped and ate snacks and did arts and crafts. Education at its finest.
2. Fight Club, one of my all time favorite books/movies, which centers on oppressed men trying to break free of the hold of society and rediscover life. While I'd say that the characters have a high level of success, there are many repercussions, and in the end the rebellion grows into its own being. I kind of hoped that One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest would end up like this, since I drew some parallels between the characters of McMurphy and Tyler Durden, and now that I think about it, there are some strikingly similar themes... but in the end, I feel like the men of Fight Club did it better.
3. 1984. Apologies for bringing this book up again, but it was on my mind. We cheer on Winston, the protagonist, as he slowly stumbles his way through rebellion, but his cause feels infinitely more hopeless, even more so than the plight of the men on Nurse Ratched's ward.
I could list more, but this post would be ridiculous and unnecessary. All of these rebellions accomplish little in the grander scheme of the universes that their protagonists reside in, but to the viewer/reader, the act of rebelling and the threat of anarchy provides some deep sense of consolation. We can't truly rebel in our own lives-- I don't think any one of us is going to overthrow Ms. Serensky and institute nap time instead of English class, or start a secret fight club in the basement of the school, or try to take down the government with a journal... hopefully-- but we can work out our frustrations through the characters who can.
***
If you're interested, this is the song my title refers to.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Themes
I have now read several of my classmates' blogs about our fabulous/horrendous substitute teacher on Friday, henceforth to be known as "Mr. English Sub." In particular, I laughed at the fact that he asked both of our classes about "themes" from the book, and how we honestly didn't know how to respond to questions like this because they were just so... simple.
Back in 10th grade, when we had just begun to learn what literary terms were, finding the themes of a book would have sent many of us into a cold sweat. We would have thrown out some general term like "conflict!" or "racism!" and then written a two page handwritten essay that would have taken us the entire class period and required thumbing through our books for half of the time looking for quotes.
Now, we write five to seven page essays (maybe more, if you write really fast or big), in forty minutes without books, using only our minds and a year and a half of intimidation and training. And the essays we write today are exponentially better than our fumbling three-paragraph essays of yesteryear where we talked incessantly about metaphors and similes (I'm pretty sure those were the only two literary terms that we understood for most of the first two years of high school... that, and repetition).
So yes, Mr. English Sub, we know what the themes of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest are. Furthermore, we know the difference between situational, verbal, and dramatic irony and understand symbols and indirect characterization. And a lot more.
I guess you could say that one "theme" of Friday's class was that we all had an excuse to feel vastly superior.
Back in 10th grade, when we had just begun to learn what literary terms were, finding the themes of a book would have sent many of us into a cold sweat. We would have thrown out some general term like "conflict!" or "racism!" and then written a two page handwritten essay that would have taken us the entire class period and required thumbing through our books for half of the time looking for quotes.
Now, we write five to seven page essays (maybe more, if you write really fast or big), in forty minutes without books, using only our minds and a year and a half of intimidation and training. And the essays we write today are exponentially better than our fumbling three-paragraph essays of yesteryear where we talked incessantly about metaphors and similes (I'm pretty sure those were the only two literary terms that we understood for most of the first two years of high school... that, and repetition).
So yes, Mr. English Sub, we know what the themes of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest are. Furthermore, we know the difference between situational, verbal, and dramatic irony and understand symbols and indirect characterization. And a lot more.
I guess you could say that one "theme" of Friday's class was that we all had an excuse to feel vastly superior.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
A Minority of One
So my Blogger account has denied me access about fifteen times in the past five minutes, claiming that my address is "reserved by an organization." Right. I only hope that this post publishes before I go absolutely insane.
Speaking of which.
I was doing my reading assignment for Government class from George Orwell's novel 1984. What does this book have to do with government? I have no idea. But it seems to have a lot do do with insanity.
To quote the passage I just read:
"He wondered, as he had many times wondered before, whether he himself was a lunatic. Perhaps a lunatic was simply a minority of one."
This reminded me of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, of course, both because AP English is taking over my life and because I think that the definition of a lunatic as "a minority of one" applies to the book. We've talked a lot about Chief Bromden's isolation and the way that he does not perceive things as others do. He could easily be called a minority of one because he is the only one who experiences the fog, the physical manifestations of anger or hatred, and the intense levels of empathy.
Then I thought about everyday life. If a lunatic is really a minority of one, then is it possible for anyone to have individuality and also be sane? If everyone simply follows the rules of society, then who creates new ideas? Where does change come from? If being an individual means being a lunatic, then we definitely need some lunatics in society to keep the momentum going.
Speaking of which.
I was doing my reading assignment for Government class from George Orwell's novel 1984. What does this book have to do with government? I have no idea. But it seems to have a lot do do with insanity.
To quote the passage I just read:
"He wondered, as he had many times wondered before, whether he himself was a lunatic. Perhaps a lunatic was simply a minority of one."
This reminded me of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, of course, both because AP English is taking over my life and because I think that the definition of a lunatic as "a minority of one" applies to the book. We've talked a lot about Chief Bromden's isolation and the way that he does not perceive things as others do. He could easily be called a minority of one because he is the only one who experiences the fog, the physical manifestations of anger or hatred, and the intense levels of empathy.
Then I thought about everyday life. If a lunatic is really a minority of one, then is it possible for anyone to have individuality and also be sane? If everyone simply follows the rules of society, then who creates new ideas? Where does change come from? If being an individual means being a lunatic, then we definitely need some lunatics in society to keep the momentum going.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Blogs Upon Blogs
So in reading today's deluge of frantic blog postings, I've noticed some trends within out small AP English blog community:
1). We like lists. We all write a lot of humorous lists, mostly about aspects of class dynamics. Also, more people read entries with lists for some reason.
2). Some people still use a lot of analysis and/or use quotes from the current book we are reading, while others use blogging as an excuse to never have to analyze anything formally for once (I'm guilty on this one).
3). We all tend to talk about exactly the same things, probably because we're reading each others' blogs, freaking out, and then writing the first thing we think of. So I've read a ton of blog entries about insanity today, since that's on everyone's mind. And a week ago I read about five blogs in a row about stalking Indian people.
4). A lot of people have fish on their blogs. They're quite calming, but they're everywhere.
5). A disturbing number of people reference Thomas' alleged Journal in their entries in some way.
6). In conjunction with point number 2 on this list, some people flagrantly use humor in their blogs, and others prefer a calmer, more serious tone. Both are most likely trying to end up on Bobbie's Blog Banter, either by appearing hilarious or super smart. We're all guilty of wanting the fame.
7). Many blogs reference people outside of AP English as "a friend" or "someone I know," in an attempt to keep their anonymity. Actually, some blogs reference people who are in AP English anonymously. It's not like they'd really care that we mention them in our blogs. I hope.
8). We all think that books/AP English/data sheets are taking over our lives. Most likely because they are.
9). Also, many of us blog about blogging. See this post.
1). We like lists. We all write a lot of humorous lists, mostly about aspects of class dynamics. Also, more people read entries with lists for some reason.
2). Some people still use a lot of analysis and/or use quotes from the current book we are reading, while others use blogging as an excuse to never have to analyze anything formally for once (I'm guilty on this one).
3). We all tend to talk about exactly the same things, probably because we're reading each others' blogs, freaking out, and then writing the first thing we think of. So I've read a ton of blog entries about insanity today, since that's on everyone's mind. And a week ago I read about five blogs in a row about stalking Indian people.
4). A lot of people have fish on their blogs. They're quite calming, but they're everywhere.
5). A disturbing number of people reference Thomas' alleged Journal in their entries in some way.
6). In conjunction with point number 2 on this list, some people flagrantly use humor in their blogs, and others prefer a calmer, more serious tone. Both are most likely trying to end up on Bobbie's Blog Banter, either by appearing hilarious or super smart. We're all guilty of wanting the fame.
7). Many blogs reference people outside of AP English as "a friend" or "someone I know," in an attempt to keep their anonymity. Actually, some blogs reference people who are in AP English anonymously. It's not like they'd really care that we mention them in our blogs. I hope.
8). We all think that books/AP English/data sheets are taking over our lives. Most likely because they are.
9). Also, many of us blog about blogging. See this post.
Speaking of Crazy...
Since we started reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, the theme of insanity has run rampant. Ms. Serensky thinks we're crazy. We think we're crazy. And Chief Bromden is definitely, definitely crazy.
You know who else is crazy? Eliyzabeth Yanne Strong-Anderson. Don't know who she is? Well, that's probably good. She is the author of a book on Amazon which you can read excerpts from here. You may notice that the cover of this work, Birth Control is Sinful in the Christian Marriages and Also Robbing God of Priesthood Children!!, features lettering in all caps, an uncentered title, and a grainy picture of the author. You may also notice the two exclamation points in the title, presumably because our friend Eliyzabeth is REALLY excited about you reading her book. In fact, she's so excited that she wrote her book in all caps. With no real punctuation. And apparently without using spell check. As an AP English student, I died a little bit inside when I attempted to read the first paragraph.
I'd suggest scanning the description of the book, or looking through the excerpts. Honestly, it's bleak. This book is 648 pages of all caps, unedited rambling. And it's being sold on Amazon as a real book. No matter what your religious viewpoint is, I doubt that you can say, with a straight face, that Ms. Strong-Anderson's book makes sense.
Guess what? It also sells for $150.
Crazy.
You know who else is crazy? Eliyzabeth Yanne Strong-Anderson. Don't know who she is? Well, that's probably good. She is the author of a book on Amazon which you can read excerpts from here. You may notice that the cover of this work, Birth Control is Sinful in the Christian Marriages and Also Robbing God of Priesthood Children!!, features lettering in all caps, an uncentered title, and a grainy picture of the author. You may also notice the two exclamation points in the title, presumably because our friend Eliyzabeth is REALLY excited about you reading her book. In fact, she's so excited that she wrote her book in all caps. With no real punctuation. And apparently without using spell check. As an AP English student, I died a little bit inside when I attempted to read the first paragraph.
I'd suggest scanning the description of the book, or looking through the excerpts. Honestly, it's bleak. This book is 648 pages of all caps, unedited rambling. And it's being sold on Amazon as a real book. No matter what your religious viewpoint is, I doubt that you can say, with a straight face, that Ms. Strong-Anderson's book makes sense.
Guess what? It also sells for $150.
Crazy.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Just As Bad As Gogol With the Name-Related Hangups
While watching the movie adaptation of Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake, I wanted to cringe every time someone mispronounced a character's name. So. Awkward. Whenever Maxine said "Ash-ima" I just felt really embarassed for her. And then I started to realize: I have a really weird hangup about names.
First of all, I pronounce everything wrong. Everything. And it's not even always from ignorance, sometimes my mind just shuts off and I'll say something in a completely bizarre way. For instance: a few weeks ago, I was singing along to Green Day's rock-opera song "Jesus of Suburbia" and when I got to the line
"The space that's in between insane and insecure"
I heard myself say
"...inane and insecure"
I paused, and wondered why I would even mispronounce that. Why would I just drop the 's' from the middle of a word? I don't know. Problematically, I will do this with people's names all the time. I know what their name is, I know how to pronounce it, but then at the last minute my brain panics and second guesses itself. It's bizarre.
So unintentionally, I've placed a lot of emphasis on people's names. I tend not to really refer to people by name directly, at least not after initially getting their attention, because it just feels weird to me. It actually creeps me out a bit when someone overuses my name, as in when I get customers at work who insist on using my name after every sentence.
"Oh hello, Sarah. Thank you, Sarah. I'll have a turkey sandwich, Sarah. Actually, Sarah, can you change my order to a bowl of soup, Sarah?"
Seriously. Why?
You don't even know me! We met five second ago! Stop using my name like that!
Okay. Maybe I'm just as bad as Gogol with the name-related hangups.
First of all, I pronounce everything wrong. Everything. And it's not even always from ignorance, sometimes my mind just shuts off and I'll say something in a completely bizarre way. For instance: a few weeks ago, I was singing along to Green Day's rock-opera song "Jesus of Suburbia" and when I got to the line
"The space that's in between insane and insecure"
I heard myself say
"...inane and insecure"
I paused, and wondered why I would even mispronounce that. Why would I just drop the 's' from the middle of a word? I don't know. Problematically, I will do this with people's names all the time. I know what their name is, I know how to pronounce it, but then at the last minute my brain panics and second guesses itself. It's bizarre.
So unintentionally, I've placed a lot of emphasis on people's names. I tend not to really refer to people by name directly, at least not after initially getting their attention, because it just feels weird to me. It actually creeps me out a bit when someone overuses my name, as in when I get customers at work who insist on using my name after every sentence.
"Oh hello, Sarah. Thank you, Sarah. I'll have a turkey sandwich, Sarah. Actually, Sarah, can you change my order to a bowl of soup, Sarah?"
Seriously. Why?
You don't even know me! We met five second ago! Stop using my name like that!
Okay. Maybe I'm just as bad as Gogol with the name-related hangups.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The Most Terrifying Creatures in Chagrin Falls High School
Recently, I complained to a friend who does not take AP English about the fact that I had to start working on my data sheet. Her response? A rather forceful, "DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT THAT! You're not allowed!"
Okay guys, let's face it: as AP English students, we annoy all of our non-AP friends on a daily basis. We don't understand how much English has taken over our lives until we realize that, during data sheet season (starting two weeks before one is due and ending at about 3 in the morning the day of,) we bring up data sheets in almost literally every conversation we have. We are ridiculous. We talk about English class before class, during class, after class, online, in commons, and probably in our sleep. Even in casual social settings, conversation will always drift to AP English, making everyone else feel uncomfortable, and slightly fearful.
I mean, who wants to mess with an AP English student? We stay up until daybreak writing twenty page papers and survive on about three hours of sleep. We analyze every bit of text we come across. We throw out literary terms in normal conversation. We memorize Shakespeare quotes. And on top of all of this, most of us take several other grueling AP classes. And God forbid something should interrupt an in-class essay...
We are terrifying, terrifying creatures.
We are AP English zombies.
Okay guys, let's face it: as AP English students, we annoy all of our non-AP friends on a daily basis. We don't understand how much English has taken over our lives until we realize that, during data sheet season (starting two weeks before one is due and ending at about 3 in the morning the day of,) we bring up data sheets in almost literally every conversation we have. We are ridiculous. We talk about English class before class, during class, after class, online, in commons, and probably in our sleep. Even in casual social settings, conversation will always drift to AP English, making everyone else feel uncomfortable, and slightly fearful.
I mean, who wants to mess with an AP English student? We stay up until daybreak writing twenty page papers and survive on about three hours of sleep. We analyze every bit of text we come across. We throw out literary terms in normal conversation. We memorize Shakespeare quotes. And on top of all of this, most of us take several other grueling AP classes. And God forbid something should interrupt an in-class essay...
We are terrifying, terrifying creatures.
We are AP English zombies.
Monday, November 15, 2010
No One Wants a Fairytale Ending.
Or at least, we don't really want a happy ending when it comes to literature.
I came to this conclusion through a long sequence of thoughts that began with comparing The Namesake to Othello, specifically considering our in-class discussions about both. Back when we read Othello, we talked a lot about conflict and confrontation, and how some of us just really wanted Othello to accuse Desdemona or Desdemona to stand up for herself or something. The suspense and dramatic irony building up to Othello's eventual murder of Desdemona due to their unresolved and misconstrued conflict caused us to anticipate and enjoy the eventual disaster of their marriage far more than we probably should have. Similarly, we all want Gogol and Moushimi to finally reach the point of conflict. And when I say we, I really mean that I want them to.
My personal opinion on confronting others about your issues remains the same in regards to Othello, The Namesake, or real life. While sometimes true honesty hurts, I believe that knowing how someone really feels has far more positive effects in the long run, and I think that ignoring a conflict that you have with someone only puts off an inevitable fight. Still, why do I want Gogol to confront Moushumi so badly? Option 1: I want Gogol to escape his marriage. Option 2: I really just want to see them fight.
I'll admit it: I don't really want to see this book end with a happily-ever-after. So far, it has portrayed life, realistically, as both joyous and painful. Conflict within literature drives interest, and if the conflict suddenly halts, we're left feelings sort of robbed. Sure, sometimes it's good when everything ends neatly and you get a sense of closure--but not all of the time. Sometimes, we want the characters we read about to fail, so that we can say, "Oh, I wouldn't make that same mistake." Even if we would.
I came to this conclusion through a long sequence of thoughts that began with comparing The Namesake to Othello, specifically considering our in-class discussions about both. Back when we read Othello, we talked a lot about conflict and confrontation, and how some of us just really wanted Othello to accuse Desdemona or Desdemona to stand up for herself or something. The suspense and dramatic irony building up to Othello's eventual murder of Desdemona due to their unresolved and misconstrued conflict caused us to anticipate and enjoy the eventual disaster of their marriage far more than we probably should have. Similarly, we all want Gogol and Moushimi to finally reach the point of conflict. And when I say we, I really mean that I want them to.
My personal opinion on confronting others about your issues remains the same in regards to Othello, The Namesake, or real life. While sometimes true honesty hurts, I believe that knowing how someone really feels has far more positive effects in the long run, and I think that ignoring a conflict that you have with someone only puts off an inevitable fight. Still, why do I want Gogol to confront Moushumi so badly? Option 1: I want Gogol to escape his marriage. Option 2: I really just want to see them fight.
I'll admit it: I don't really want to see this book end with a happily-ever-after. So far, it has portrayed life, realistically, as both joyous and painful. Conflict within literature drives interest, and if the conflict suddenly halts, we're left feelings sort of robbed. Sure, sometimes it's good when everything ends neatly and you get a sense of closure--but not all of the time. Sometimes, we want the characters we read about to fail, so that we can say, "Oh, I wouldn't make that same mistake." Even if we would.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Name Issues and College Apps: Just Your Average Teenage Drama
A lot of people seem to be pondering the theme of names and their significance again, which relates, of course, to The Namesake, but also to many of our personal lives. As seniors in high school, we will soon go off to college and become "adults." Well, at least we'll try. So much of being an adult seems to rely on your name-- everything from legal documents to shopping receipts to accident reports require identification. If you're unhappy with your name, then you see it printed on everything that makes your life official, everything that identifies you as a member of society and an individual. Some of us are at the age where we can legally change our names, and though, as a child, I had moments where I honestly wanted to change my name, I don't think that I could anymore. I wouldn't want to deal with what Gogol goes through in The Namesake, how he tries to change his identity completely when he changes his name, and loses a part of himself in the process. Over the course of high school, I've changed immeasurably, and I don't think that changing my name would accomplish anything other than trying to become someone else, which I don't want to do.
Otherwise, my life now focuses around college applications, and I envy those who have already received acceptance letters. I wouldn't mind the application process except for the essays. Oh, those essays... I have no problem writing 22 page data sheets, but a one page essay about why I want to go to a particular school stumps me. In some ways, I guess that analysis has become a comfort zone for us AP English students, and when we have to break outside of that and just write about ourselves and our desires, we panic because we can't hide behind literary devices. Or maybe that's just me? Feel free to comment.
Otherwise, my life now focuses around college applications, and I envy those who have already received acceptance letters. I wouldn't mind the application process except for the essays. Oh, those essays... I have no problem writing 22 page data sheets, but a one page essay about why I want to go to a particular school stumps me. In some ways, I guess that analysis has become a comfort zone for us AP English students, and when we have to break outside of that and just write about ourselves and our desires, we panic because we can't hide behind literary devices. Or maybe that's just me? Feel free to comment.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Gogol and Moushumi: Imminent Failure
Today in class we talked a lot about the character of Moushumi from Jhumpa Lahiri's novel The Namesake, and most of us decided that we really do not like her at all. And we have a lot of justification for this opinion. She cheats on her loving husband with a balding middle-aged unemployed man who she met in high school, and honestly she seems to have little self-respect. I question whether she really loves Gogol at all, or if she just loves the idea of having a husband. Personally, I think the latter more likely. However, I think that the problems with their relationship come from both sides--Gogol and Moushumi can never find happiness together because they want different things. We talked a lot in class about the expectations that both halves of the couple had going into their marriage, and it seemed like Moushumi had many more expectations than Gogol. Actually, we could not figure out what Gogol wanted from the relationship. I honestly think that he fears loneliness and so seeks out other people. We have discussed in class before how Gogol does not seem to have any friends, or really anyone else in his life besides Moushumi. He clings to their marriage, even as it falls apart, because he does not know where else to go or who else to turn to. He has his family, but he has spent so long trying to escape familial responsibility that he cannot simply regress to spending all of his time with them. Gogol's neediness drives Moushumi away even more, in my opinion. She cannot deal with keeping her devotion on one person, and feels bitter when she finds herself acting like a devoted wife, as when she turned down the fellowship to study in France. Part of her bitterness comes from her fear of ending up like her mother, most likely, but her internal conflicts, combined with Gogol's, create a disastrous mess. In chapter eight, when they first started dating, I believed that they cared about one another and had a deep and meaningful bond. Now, their relationship quickly dies. Everything about it seems contrived and forced, from their anniversary dinner to the way that they go to sleep every night, kissing and then turning away from each other, their physical actions mirroring their mental divergence. I don't really know where their relationship will go from this point, but I honestly wish that they would just end my suffering at having to read about their dull, insubstantial marriage, and separate already.
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