Hair Hair Hair

I just recently wrote a critical response paper on a chapter in Sag Harbor, more specifically the chapter titled "To Prevent Flare Ups." Right at the beginning of this chapter Ben reflects on his hair and also more subtly his relationship with his father. Benji cut his hair for the first time without his father's help, signaling a sort of coming of age.

Now, I got to thinking about what really hair means. How can it be such a strong symbol of growing up? It's just a lifeless thing on our body, why does it hold such powerful meaning for some people? I automatically thought of the movie Hair, a 1979 musical war comedy-drama and film adaptation of the 1968 Broadway musical of the same name. This movie follows a group of hippies who despise the Vietnam War and disregard the draft. The plot is significantly more developed than what I'm describing, but the most interesting aspect of this movie is the role that the hippies' appearances and hair play. Their hair is what describes their identity, identifying them as deviants of society.

In this movie, the hippies' 'coming of age' comes from disregarding their family's wishes and creating their own individual identity. The same happens to Benji in Sag Harbor. Cutting his hair signifies that he is ready to separate himself from his less than ideal father and create his own identity.

Image

My favorite kind of writing is the intricate and vivid kind. But only if it satisfies two conditions: it has to be modern and given to me in small doses. I'm sure many of us are struggling with reading Sag Harbor. It seems to stretch out much longer than Black Swan Green or The Bell Jar. Like Darren mentions in his blog post, probably because Sag Harbor is set in a much shorter time frame.

One of the things that intrigues me about Colson Whitehead's writing is the images he evokes with his writing. While reading our most recent chapter "To Prevent Flare-Ups" I noticed a few sections that stood out to me:

It was a weird black amoeba testing the edges of itself, throwing out nappy pseudopods here and suddenly there, an unpredictable new direction every day. I swear it lived, and have come to believe that its ever-shifting lumps and tendrils were a doomed attempt at communication with the humans.

Ordinary hair is described in such a vivid and colorful way. I almost pause in my reading and imagine the snake-like movement of the blob-ish amoeba. The same imagery and metaphor-like language was in The Bell Jar. I'm sure many of you don't need to read the following paragraph again because it is one of the most vivid and memorable pieces in the novel. But I wanted to revisit the imagery of the fig tree.

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet. 

 Although different in substance and image than the passage from Sag Harbor, I still imagined the fig tree winding slowly up and displaying all of Esther's potential futures. In my mind it was alive and movie-like.

How do you read passages rich with images? Does it pay like a movie in your head?

Julia's Coming-of-Age

One of my absolute favorite characters in Black Swan Green is Julia. Now that we are wrapping up this novel, I have gotten a chance to truly reflect on how Julia has changed and admire her remarkable personality. She goes through a less acknowledged, yet just as important, coming-of-age.

Now, I know that not all of us enjoyed Julia as a character in the beginning. Her teasing and acknowledgement of Jason overstepped certain sibling bounds. Referring to Jason as 'Thing' especially produced a sort of distaste among us. And rightfully so. However, many of her other mannerisms exuded a typical sibling relationship, most notably this one:

Julia said nothing for long enough to tell me she knew I was bullshitting. “Who said you could borrow Abbey Road? Her L.P. was by my crappy record player. “You hardly listen to it.” “Even if that were true, it wouldn’t make it your property. You never wear Granddad’s watch. Does that make it my property?” (36)

I am incredibly guilty of this tactic. I am sad to say that my sister has often been in the path of this wrath. I am sure that not many of us would be proud to be Julia at the beginning of Black Swan Green. However, as the novel progresses, she changes and slowly becomes a character that I began to admire. She begins exude a certain warmth and kindness in the midst of her parent's tense conflict. At the end of the novel, she still gets in the last word (typical of an older sister), but what she says is considerably more meaningful. Her coming-of-age is something that I would like to see for myself and my relationship with my siblings.

Now that I think more about it, this is a good topic for a reflective response paper...

Semester Project

I will be traveling back in time a little bit in this blog post and looking at The Bell Jar again. I don't know if I'm allowed to do this, but I had a huge moment of inspiration during class on Thursday while we were discussing the upcoming semester project. The Bell Jar was most definitely my favorite book of the semester. The topic, the writing style, and the plot line was interesting and remarkably relatable. One of my favorite scenes comes from the end of the novel when Esther is speaking to Dr. Nolan. Actually, just the character of Dr. Nolan and the ideas she stands by adds a beautiful and satisfying end to the novel. So while we were discussing the semester project I instantly thought of writing in the point of view of Dr. Nolan. Her impact on Esther was so profound and her opinions were so unconventional for the time that think it would be worthwhile to explore what Dr. Nolan really thinks about her patients, society, and the hospital.

The first idea that came to mind was to write Dr. Nolan's point of view during a session with Esther. Not only would this offer a look into Dr. Nolan's mind, but it would also paint a picture of Esther from an outside perspective. As my imagination continued to wonder, I realized that Dr. Nolan would be interesting to explore both as a psychotherapist and as a woman living in the society of the 1950's. Her career, outlook on life, and perhaps just her day to day life could be explored in the style of journals. I once saw, probably on a TV show or something, that psychotherapist often keep journals or audio recordings of their sessions with patients. For my semester project, I think I'd like to write a series of Dr. Nolan's professional and personal journal entries. I'm just hoping that my limited fiction writing skills will be able to do justice to the masterful work of Sylvia Plath.

Sylvie's Effect

I wrote part of this blog post during Spring Break when we were more than half way through Housekeeping. At this point we began to broach the topic of coming-of-age, but the most important developments of the story had not happened yet. Now having read the entire novel, I am able to form a complete opinion on Sylvie and her role in Lucille and Ruth's coming-of-age.

When Sylvie first appeared in Ruth and Lucille's life, I felt a sense of calmness and fresh air. It was as if she was offering a fresh, nurturing start after the unfortunate and brutal deaths of family members. Sylvie instead offers a very unusual twist on the typical coming-of-age scenarios we have encountered thus far. In all of the novels we have read this semester, no one person influences another character as much as Sylvie influenced Ruth. One starts to question whether or not Ruth actually comes-of-age. Is practically blindly following a role model finding your true identity? Stephen Dedalus, Holden Caulfield, and Esther Greenwood all become more worldy-wise and self aware after a personal revelation and the influence of the collective.

While finishing Housekeeping, the idea of transience and coming-of-age continued to boil. As many of us have said, the idea of leading a transient lifestyle is practically foreign. This leads to the question of right and wrong. We discussed at the beginning of the semester the definition of coming-of-age, particularly who and what determines when we have officially become adults. When each of us applies our own personal definitions of coming-of-age to the development of Ruth in Housekeeping I'm sure we will all have different levels of satisfaction with the ending of the novel. Personally, I think that Sylvie does a terrible job in nurturing Ruth and Lucille. Yes, she has moments of motherly concern, but she creates chaos within Ruth and Lucille's already painful and chaotic life.

Depression in Metaphors

Esther's path into depression is hauntingly and truthfully illustrated by Sylvia Plath. What makes this novel so deep and incredibly relevant is the notion that this depression can befall anyone. Just being in the wrong place at the wrong time in her life leads Esther down the dark and worn path of depression. Plath's metaphors for depression paint a very realistic and relatable picture.  I think depression can be a very difficult thing to describe and discuss with others, yet Plath's beautifully constructed metaphors help the reader truly delve into 'her' mind.

The first metaphor that really resonated with me was the "eye of the tornado." At the end of Chapter One, Esther says,

"I guess I should have been excited the way most of the other girls were, but I couldn’t get myself to react. I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo."

The imagery that this metaphor offers is extremely powerful. The eye is the calm, and seemingly dull, part of the tornado. It's the focal point, but it has no focal properties. Everything is circling around the center in a frenzy, yet the eye is never a part of the flurry happening around it. Esther is surrounded by the ever busy and ever moving New York City environment. And although she is the center of her career and life, she's disconnected and just dully being pulled along to parties and superfluous events. Most importantly, she finds it dizzying and depressing, discovering the fashion world she inhabits is superficial and disorientating.

I recently watched a YouTube video about flying into the eye of a hurricane (which is surprisingly possible). Although not a tornado, I think the video shows the unexpected calm and disassociation that Esther might be describing. [Skip to 2:45]

The other important metaphor is that of the bell jar, which illustrates so many meanings and manifestations of depression. The bell jar represents a separated and constricting environment that serves as the personal hell of the person living in it. We mentioned in class that a bell jar is traditionally used to isolate, observe, and terminate a specimen. The bottom of the jar creates a vacuum to prevent the specimen from escaping. However, it also makes the removal of the jar that much more difficult. The clear glass of the jar is particularly maddening as only the person inside knows of its presence, strangers simply see an ill person. Esther is left stewing in that jar surrounded in her own foul thoughts and mannerisms. This extremely powerful metaphor describes depression in a hauntingly poetic way. The feeling of entrapment and helplessness that I got when reading and discussing this jar was eye-opening and slightly horrifying.

Comebacks and fingerbowls and caviar! Oh my!

I find Esther to be extremely relatable, both as a scholar and as a woman. As I was reading the first half of The Bell Jar, a few things about her stood out to me that were particularly relatable. These instances made Esther that much more human, but also provide us with a sense of her true self.

1. Esther thinks of the best comebacks, hours after the argument takes place.

I do this all the time, especially in the shower. The hot and calming water always brings out my best ideas or best comebacks, but it also serves as time of self-reflection. As Esther says on pg. 22, “I never feel so much myself as when I’m in a hot bath,” rings true for me as well. The water almost strips you of all worries and unclouds the hazy ideas in your brain. When we discussed this section of the novel in class, we saw the cleanse of the water as an intense rebirth or  a distancing from her stranger life in New York. However, I think this scene can also be interpreted as a simple unwinding, something that all of us do, albeit described in a passionate way.

2. Esther drinks the fingerbowl, along with the floating cherry blossoms in it.

I thought this was one of the funniest moments the the beginning of the book and probably something that I would do at a fancy brunch. Esther describes this faux pas in passing, but her nonchalant wording makes the situation that much more horrifyingly hilarious. I was definitely cringe-laughing by the time I found out Mrs. Guinea let her drink it without saying anything. This situation makes Esther infinitely more likable, but it also suggests that maybe she isn't meant to be in New York City. Her place is not at fancy functions with the elite, an idea that we see blossoming throughout the entire first section of the novel.

3. Esther eats all of the caviar after strategically mapping out her opponents’ seating positions.

Have you ever been at a dinner party where your absolute favorite food is being served and by the time you get to it it’s all gone? Maybe the Uni Orientation Picnic comes to mind? I have and I definitely sympathize with Esther’s efforts to keep the caviar to herself. Her detailed description of Betsy and Doreen’s position at the dinner table in relation to the caviar was quite amusing, yet also comes with a morbid and serious backdrop. Before mentioning the caviar at all Esther talks in length about her home life and the poverty she grew up in. Perhaps her previously selfish actions should be interpreted as survival techniques stemming from her childhood and leading to her disassociation from New York City.

Although these instances might not be the most crucial in understanding Esther in the entirety of the novel, I do think they serve to showcase her very human and relatable characteristics. Plath creates a more endearing and intriguing character that the reader becomes invested in.

Parenting Then and Now: A Just Precaution or a Paranoid Reaction?

After reading The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, I continued to reflect upon the way childhood has changed over the course of the last century. Last year I wrote an essay for Ms. Linder discussing the portrayal of a utopia in a certain novel, but I also touched on childhood and how it has developed to what it is in our society. While researching material for this essay I stumbled across an article from The Atlantic titled “The Overprotected Kid.” Although it’s very long, I would definitely recommend you read it (or at least watch the three minute video linked below this paragraph). In summary, Hanna Rosin observes and writes about how the preoccupation with safety has stripped childhood of independence, risk taking, and discovery. She writes, “Actions that would have been considered paranoid in the ’70s—walking third-graders to school, forbidding your kid to play ball in the street, going down the slide with your child in your lap—are now routine. In fact, they are the markers of good, responsible parenting." Now, I definitely think this is true. You never see children playing in a park these days without a parent supervising or walking home from school by themselves. In The Catcher in the Rye, written in the 1950’s, we see that kids are much less supervised in comparison to today. The young boy playing and singing while walking behind his parents next to a large road or Phoebe’s friend skating in the park by herself on a gloomy day are just a few examples of the independence young children are offered. When narrating, Holden even describes the skate park as “lousy” and full of “dog crap, and globs of spit, and cigar butts from old men, and the benches all looked like they’d be wet if you sat down on them. It made you depressed and every once in a while, for no reason, you got goose flesh while you walked.” This is not a place I would send my kid, alone or even with me. What changed throughout the 20th and 21st centuries that caused parents to become more protective?

I remember when I was younger my parents would let my siblings and I roam our apartment complex for hours at a time during the summer. I would say we lived on the border of “good Urbana” and “bad Urbana.” There was a decent amount of crime and rambunctious high school students walking through our yard area during the school year. For some reason, my parents were totally encouraging of the fact that we would disappear off with our friends literally for hours. I remember that one summer we created this secret lair in the space between our apartment’s wooden fence and the chain link fence of a private house. The space was about five feet wide and filled with prickly tree branches. We decorated the space with the items that our neighbors would throw out. Yes, we dumpster dove, but in my defense these items were really nice. All of our neighbors were from Turkey and basically had to throw out everything they couldn’t bring back with them. We scored an epic ceramic horse head statue once. To say the least, our lair was sketchy and I’m surprised we didn’t get tetanus. However, reading further in Hanna Rosin’s article I found out that this is exactly the type of environment that children should be encouraged to play in (well, minus the dumpster-diving and potential tetanus).

In the article, Hanna Rosin explores and discusses a newly built special park, ominously called “The Land.” It’s a junkyard-looking piece of land where children can create their own play structures using wooden pallets, tires, fire pits, and other material that would normally be considered hazardous. Children are supervised by only one parent and aren’t coddled or helped when they fall and start crying. Rosin writes in her article that children are less constrained and create their own games and groups using their imagination. Surprisingly, the amount of injuries in our normal safety oriented playgrounds is exactly the same as the number of injuries in more “dangerous” ones. This is the kind of environment that I see Holden, and porbably more lower-class individuals from The Catcher in the Rye, playing in. Phoebe seems to be more reigned in by her parents, but still walks by herself to school and the library.

Would you let your young sibling or future child wander “The Land?”

Were you raised in an overprotective household?

What do you think about overprotective parenting? Is it a just precaution or a paranoid reaction?

The Body and the Soul

Chapter three is definitely not for the faint of heart. The idea of hell, and even heaven, is a heavy one. The mood throughout Chapter Three reflects Stephen's constant internal struggle to find where religion fits in his life. To be honest, his progression (or maybe regression?) is difficult to see. A once confident, albeit lustful and sinful, boy is reduced into a shell of fear.

I found the transition between Stephen's thoughts and the priest's sermon to be quite startling. Only pages before the holy sermon, we read about Stephens sexual lusts and his indifference to God. As readers we know everything about Stephen's character: his sins, his regrets, and most importantly how his changes and developments. From the morbid and sexually mature thoughts we are thrust into the exact world that Stephen has been dreading and avoiding. The 'pure world' is introduced with the the priest addressing the boys. Every few pages the priest addresses the young men as "my dear boys" or a variation of the same endearment. This would otherwise not be extraordinary, however it really emphasizes the two different worlds that Stephen is currently caught between. This very dynamic section in Chapter Three was reflected both on Stephen and the reader as well; we experience and live the novel with Stephen.

Another interesting aspect of the priest's sermon was his very direct allusion to Dante Alighieri and his ideas on the soul and the body. Dante's Inferno, Paradiso, and Purgatorio addresses the role of the body and the soul, both while in the living world and in the afterlife. This idea was explored quite a bit in the 14th century. At the time the belief was that the soul was to be protected by all costs. The body was disposable, for a lack of a better word, and was only meant for the meaningless and horrid life of the living world. A clean soul, protected by the body, was the path to heaven. This idea is quite interesting in relation to the struggles that Stephen is experiencing. Stephen's worldly desires and lusts begin to affect his soul and his thoughts. He begins to give up on God and scoffs at His influence in his life. After the eye-opening sermon, Stephen only begins rectifying his sinful pleasures by enduring physical discomforts. His lustful thoughts remain the same and therefore unsuitable for heaven. Stephen's development in Chapter Four explores this dynamic between body and soul further. Essentially, Stephen frees his mind.

The sermon in Chapter Three also brought out a feeling of confusion in me. The idea of heaven and hell and one's destiny is a very serious topic, especially the young men. The way the priest presents the information in his sermon is very different than what one might think. First he addresses the young men as, "my dear boys," acknowledging their immaturity and youth, but then proceeds to unload very serious and dark ideas in a very structured manner. The priests explains what hell feels like and why it's terrible in vivid, graphic detail. This is serious talk for mature and serious people. When reading this section for the first time it was first confusing and then startling to see what young children are being fed by the church. It is no doubt to instill a fear of sin in them, and as we see, it definitely leaves a mark on Stephen.

Movies: The Markings of Coming-of-Age?

Remember those movies you used to watch as a young child? The Christmas movies that your parents made you sit down and watch? Or maybe your parents' favorite movie of all time, that you didn't really understand but laughed at anyway?

As the holiday season rolls around every year, I find myself catapulted back into my childhood through the rich smells of baking and the familiar sounds of holiday movies. This past Christmas I watched several Czech holiday classics that we used to watch as a family years ago. I thought I knew what the movies were about, but boy was I wrong! I realized that as a child I had a totally different outlook and understanding of what certain characters were talking about or what type of people they represented.

Most notably different was the Czech movie S tebou me baví svet (I Enjoy the World With You). I remember this movie as being very relatable; the kids were only a little younger than me at the time and played games in the snow that I totally would have played! However, according to IMDb, this movie is actually about, "Three middle-aged men [who] go for a vacation with their children and learn to cope with their youngsters' needs without their wives. Quickly, they plan to exhaust the kids to have some time off, but nothing really works out as planned." I was so confused by the time I finished that movie, I went to ask my parents what other deceptive movies they showed us over the years.

Now, a different interpretation of a movie might be attributed to "just being a child." However, the development of understanding and opinion of our surroundings marks the transition from childhood into adulthood. When we watch these movies year after year, and sometimes after a long hiatus, our understanding of certain elements in the movie changes as we have developed a more thorough view of the world. Coming-of-age is a development that never ends. We constantly learn new things that may change our outlook on the world. As we discussed in class, coming of age is often dictated by certain events or ceremonies that symbolize a transition into adulthood. However, how can someone else determine when and how you come-of-age?

Back to movies. As the holiday season started winding down, I continued to reflect on how my outlook on many of the traditional movies had changed. It is true that I followed the premise and point of the movie much better, but I was also able to understand their characters on a more personal and deeper level.

So, I ask, can movies be a marking of coming-of-age?