There seems to be a lot of debate around which character is the protagonist. Personally, I see it two ways: First, the play is a tragedy, and in all tragedies, the protagonist is destroyed by his or her fatal flaw. Therefore, Willy is the protagonist. He is the titular character, after all. And he is destroyed by his obssession with success. Second, the protagonist is the character who changes and the antagonist is the character who causes the protagonist to change. Therefore, Bif is the protagonist. Willy and Happy are the antagonist, because they bring about all the change that Bif has to face. Even time could be an antagonist, because as Bif grows older, his views and opinions change. However, time has also changed Willy. So... Screw it, there is no protagonist...
Anyway, all character confusion aside, the play is very interesting. It presents a take on the dark side of the American Dream, the people who failed to be the Great Gatsby, if you will. Willy is a picture of someone who worked hard and long, and for what? A run down house, a history of domestic violence, an affair, and a kid who doesn't love him--barely respects him. It's dark, gruesome (in the sense that the American Dream is slaughtered before our very eyes). It's a true picture of America. Reminds me of Watchmen, the scene where Nite Owl and the Comedian are fighting rioters--American citizens--and Nite Owl asks "Whatever happened to the American Dream?" to which the Comedian replies "It came true. You're looking at it."
Powerful stuff.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Invisible Man
The narrator had choices.
Oh, you want more? That's not enough information for you?... *Sigh* Okay. See, the way I see it, everything that happens to us is the result of a choice. Almost everything. Sometimes, people do things to us, but we have the choice of letting them, stopping them, or running away from them. In the eyes of mortals, our free will is infinite, unlimited. Not so much in the eyes of deities, but that's a different subject for a different time.
"They forced him," you say. "He had no choice but to get in the ring and fight."
Not true. It was simply the best option. The narrator says he has no choice in the matter when really, he just knows that the alternative is that he gets the shit kicked out of him by a bunch of drunk, angry white guys. He <i>chooses</i> the better option. Plus, he was conscious enough to realize that some of the guys were jumping out of the ring, so he could have chosen to do the same. He could have chosen not to go after the money. He could have chosen to lose the battle royale altogether. But he didn't. Because he kept choosing the self-preserving options. He didn't want fifty angry white guys beating him into Jell-O.
All in all, I liked it. Maybe it wasn't about race, but there were certainly some racial aspects of it. Like the illusion of success in the black community. The white guys gave him a scholarship for his talent in speech-writing, but it was to a Negro college. They chose a college for him, they didn't hand him a check and say "Pick any college you like, son. You've earned it." Nope, they said "Go to this black school and be a good boy." It's condescending. They send the smart black kids off to college so they don't cause trouble for the white folk. Then they're free to push around the more uneducated ones. Sad but true.
Oh, you want more? That's not enough information for you?... *Sigh* Okay. See, the way I see it, everything that happens to us is the result of a choice. Almost everything. Sometimes, people do things to us, but we have the choice of letting them, stopping them, or running away from them. In the eyes of mortals, our free will is infinite, unlimited. Not so much in the eyes of deities, but that's a different subject for a different time.
"They forced him," you say. "He had no choice but to get in the ring and fight."
Not true. It was simply the best option. The narrator says he has no choice in the matter when really, he just knows that the alternative is that he gets the shit kicked out of him by a bunch of drunk, angry white guys. He <i>chooses</i> the better option. Plus, he was conscious enough to realize that some of the guys were jumping out of the ring, so he could have chosen to do the same. He could have chosen not to go after the money. He could have chosen to lose the battle royale altogether. But he didn't. Because he kept choosing the self-preserving options. He didn't want fifty angry white guys beating him into Jell-O.
All in all, I liked it. Maybe it wasn't about race, but there were certainly some racial aspects of it. Like the illusion of success in the black community. The white guys gave him a scholarship for his talent in speech-writing, but it was to a Negro college. They chose a college for him, they didn't hand him a check and say "Pick any college you like, son. You've earned it." Nope, they said "Go to this black school and be a good boy." It's condescending. They send the smart black kids off to college so they don't cause trouble for the white folk. Then they're free to push around the more uneducated ones. Sad but true.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Gertrude Stein
"Tender Buttons" is an interesting piece of work. In a way, it reminds me of Charles Simic, a poet who immigrated to America as a boy during World War II. Simic write prose poetry--which is sort of what Stein does, only without coherent sentences--but the thing about Simic is that he writes these cryptic freaking poems that, without significant analysis of every word, make no sense whatsoever.
The difference is that Stein doesn't set out to make meaning out of her poems, as far as I can tell. It's all modern art. It's a Rothko painting, or some abstract sculpture that means something different to everyone, because whatever you get out of it is whatever you project onto it. Darren Arnofsky's "The Fountain" is a great example of this. The movie has a definite meaning to its director, but Arnofsky has not commented on that meaning, rather hoping everyone will draw their own conclusions. And there are many interpretations of the movie, not all of which do I agree with, nor would some have even occured to me. (I highly recommend that movie, by the way.)
I didn't get Stein most of the time, but some of her poems clicked immediately. I still prefer her to Simic, because at least I can just appreciate Stein's alliteration and word association without having to search desperately for meaning.
The difference is that Stein doesn't set out to make meaning out of her poems, as far as I can tell. It's all modern art. It's a Rothko painting, or some abstract sculpture that means something different to everyone, because whatever you get out of it is whatever you project onto it. Darren Arnofsky's "The Fountain" is a great example of this. The movie has a definite meaning to its director, but Arnofsky has not commented on that meaning, rather hoping everyone will draw their own conclusions. And there are many interpretations of the movie, not all of which do I agree with, nor would some have even occured to me. (I highly recommend that movie, by the way.)
I didn't get Stein most of the time, but some of her poems clicked immediately. I still prefer her to Simic, because at least I can just appreciate Stein's alliteration and word association without having to search desperately for meaning.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Mowing
The class' favorite poet, apparently, was Robert Frost. Who would've guessed? I recited "Mowing," which has invaritably become my favorite of Frost's poems. The consonance of the repeated "s" sound throughout the poem, as well as the isolated imagery, give this sense of hushed, calm tranquility. The poem really shouldn't be read aloud. Whispered, only half-spoken, maybe. Frost has the uncanny ability to take something as boring as mowing (with a scythe) alone in a huge field, and turn it into a poetic masterpiece.
The poem also teaches us that only humans would do work for some kind of reward (he mentions rest and money), whereas the scythe takes its only pleasure in the work itself. "The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows." Truer words. By the end of the poem, the speaker has adopted the scythe's philosophy, and he takes pleasure in his work, not for thought of reward, but in the fact that his work is done.
The poem also teaches us that only humans would do work for some kind of reward (he mentions rest and money), whereas the scythe takes its only pleasure in the work itself. "The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows." Truer words. By the end of the poem, the speaker has adopted the scythe's philosophy, and he takes pleasure in his work, not for thought of reward, but in the fact that his work is done.
Stopping by Woods On a Snowy Evening
This poem is chilling. Haunting. I really like it. It seems to me that the woods represent death. The speaker, who has perhaps had a long, trying life, is tempted to stop in the woods--to rest (eternally). But he has promises to keep. From this line, we can say that there is someone for whom he must stay alive. It could also mean he simply has things he needs to finish before he "sleeps."
I feel like there are times in everyone's life when we wish things would just slow down, or even stop altogether. Like the weight of the world is bearing down on us, and it gets difficult to breathe. In these times, the woods are thoroughly tempting. But we cannot give up. There are always those who need us, things that we must complete before resting. Frost says through this poem "We all want to give up sometimes, but we must press on with our journey."
Beautiful poem.
I feel like there are times in everyone's life when we wish things would just slow down, or even stop altogether. Like the weight of the world is bearing down on us, and it gets difficult to breathe. In these times, the woods are thoroughly tempting. But we cannot give up. There are always those who need us, things that we must complete before resting. Frost says through this poem "We all want to give up sometimes, but we must press on with our journey."
Beautiful poem.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Y: The Last Man
So, I guess this doesn't technically count as something we read during the quarter, but I thought I'd post the information for Y: The Last Man in case anyone was interested in reading the series. It's currently available as a 60-issue individual magazine series, but you can also get the trade paperbacks. There are 10 volumes of trade paperbacks (all of which are available through Dayton Metro Library), collecting all 60 issues. If they had a rating, it would be R. No question. There is a ton of swearing (seriously, it's like Scarface...), bloody violence (bullets, axes to faces, etc.), and nudity (both male and female). So if you're offended by any of that... Well, don't read it, obvisouly. The author of the series is Brian K. Vaughan, who also wrote the Ex-Machina series, if any of you are familiar with it.
Also, another great comic series that deals with what it means to be human is Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead. I know what you're thinking: Zombies? Well, it's got zombies, sure, but the humans turn out to be scarier in most situations. Also rated R (violence, language, some nudity).
Also anything by Alan Moore. He's a great socio-political comic writer, and he's explores the psyche like you wouldn't believe. His work is also geared toward adults... Wow, I sound like a weirdo, reading all these "adult" comic books... Erm, well...
Enjoy!
Also, another great comic series that deals with what it means to be human is Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead. I know what you're thinking: Zombies? Well, it's got zombies, sure, but the humans turn out to be scarier in most situations. Also rated R (violence, language, some nudity).
Also anything by Alan Moore. He's a great socio-political comic writer, and he's explores the psyche like you wouldn't believe. His work is also geared toward adults... Wow, I sound like a weirdo, reading all these "adult" comic books... Erm, well...
Enjoy!
A Streetcar Named Desire
So, this was interesting. First of all: Blanche, totally off her rocker. I feel like if I found out my wife was gay, I'd be like "Well, nothing I can do. Time to move on." I don't know, I don't think I'd have had the same inadequacy issues Blanche had. Which makes me suspect some sort of pre-existing condition of psychosis (bi-polar, manic depressive, something).
Also, Stanley's a dick. And Stella's an idiot. Anybody read Twilight? That's this relationship. Or Jane Eyre. It's just the animal magnestism. (By the way, Twilight and Jane Eyre both suck. A lot. And that's not a vampire joke). Anyway, marriage for sex is stupid. Sex for sex is waaaaay smarter. Casual, noncomittal sex. Cuz that way you can just leave and go have sex with other people.
But I digress.
I typically like stories where I hate all the characters, so I think that's why I liked this. Even Mitch. Freakin' Mitch, you thought he was a decent, stand-up guy (unlike the rest of the animal pack called Stanley's friends), and then he's all like "Well, Blanche, I won't marry you... But let's get it on." Dick.
Also, the last line makes me smile. At the end, Stella and Stanley are back together (so to speak), and the guys are playing poker in the next room. Then, one of the guys at the poker table (I can't remember who) says "This game is called seven card stud," or something to that effect. Seven card stud is a risky variation of poker. So Tennessee is basically saying "Stella and Stanley's relationship is risky and dangerous." Clever, Mr. Williams. Very clever.
Also, Stanley's a dick. And Stella's an idiot. Anybody read Twilight? That's this relationship. Or Jane Eyre. It's just the animal magnestism. (By the way, Twilight and Jane Eyre both suck. A lot. And that's not a vampire joke). Anyway, marriage for sex is stupid. Sex for sex is waaaaay smarter. Casual, noncomittal sex. Cuz that way you can just leave and go have sex with other people.
But I digress.
I typically like stories where I hate all the characters, so I think that's why I liked this. Even Mitch. Freakin' Mitch, you thought he was a decent, stand-up guy (unlike the rest of the animal pack called Stanley's friends), and then he's all like "Well, Blanche, I won't marry you... But let's get it on." Dick.
Also, the last line makes me smile. At the end, Stella and Stanley are back together (so to speak), and the guys are playing poker in the next room. Then, one of the guys at the poker table (I can't remember who) says "This game is called seven card stud," or something to that effect. Seven card stud is a risky variation of poker. So Tennessee is basically saying "Stella and Stanley's relationship is risky and dangerous." Clever, Mr. Williams. Very clever.
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