I know this is very overdue, I don't know what has gotten into me these past two weeks, but I have had multiple JSTOR articles sitting in my binder for quite some time, and have just not taken the time to put them on here.
A. Owen Aldridge, "'Lolita' and 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses'".
Mathew Winston, "Lolita and the Dangers of Fiction".
Hugo J. Beigel, "The Journal of Sex Research".
Nomi Tamir-Ghez, "The Art of Persuasion in Nabokov's Lolita".
Frederick Whiting, "'The Strange Particularity of the Lover's Preference': Pedophilia, Pornography, and the Anatomy of Monstrosity in Lolita".
I also have found numerous articles outside of JSTOR that I may use in my final paper, but do not have all the bibliographical information in front of me.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Lo-Lee-Ta
Dolores Haze. Dolores. Dolly. L. Lo. Lola. The daughter, the lover, the nymphet: Lolita. I must say, if my parents had chosen to name me Lolita, I would get it legally changed to Katherine, meaning pure. Since the publishing of Lolita in 1955 and the popularity that has stemmed from its controversial nature, there has been a negative connotation surrounding the name Lolita, and even Lola for that matter. Take, for example, the song “Lola” by the Kinks. Although the song does not pertain to the exact story line of Lolita and the name of the song was not admittedly influenced by Nabokov’s story, the ‘woman’ Lola in the song is a transvestite, sexually promiscuous and controversial, as is Dolores Haze (Lolita) in the novel. On nearly every baby name list I could find, Lolita means a sexually precocious young girl. But this is only the modern connotation of the name. In the past, Lolita, a name which is of Spanish origin, meant “sorrows”.
Just recently (early this February, to be exact) Woolworth’s, the chain of retail stores in Great Britain, removed bedroom furniture intended for young girls from it’s inventory because the brand name was Lolita. Angry mothers raised concerns and protested because surely their six-year old daughters would become sexually active nymphets from sleeping in, or merely coexisting in a world with, Lolita beds. Although the connection can be made between the brand name and the character in Nabokov’s novel, I found the whole thing to be a bit over the top and out of hand.
Now back to the real topic at hand, the novel itself. Many critics argue that Lolita is merely a plot device, one that Nabokov uses to create and develop the character of Humbert Humbert. But without the Lolita character, Humbert is just a middle aged pervert who sits in the park and dreams about young girls. It is not until he finds a young girl with whom he can act on his desires that his character comes full circle. Therefore I think that Lolita deserves more credit than being referred to as a plot device. She is a dynamic character, one that the reader can sympathize with, can become frustrated with, and one that can be hard to predict at times. The reader gets the opportunity to grow with her, following her from adolescence to adulthood. She starts young, prepubescent and ignorant. Then she matures throughout the novel, having multiple shifts in attitude and character, until the novel ends with her married and with child. Being able to follow her through this important part of life allows the reader to feel a connection with her that is lost with Humbert, who stays relatively the same throughout the story.
There are alternate reasons why Lolita strikes a nerve with readers, making a name for herself as a character rather than just a plot device or title. As humans, we know what is right and what is wrong. For example, in Western society murder is looked upon as wrong. And in nearly all cases, the murdered will receive more sympathy than the murdered, whether or not the murdered is equally in the wrong. Just like in Lolita, it takes an objective reader to realize, but Lolita is just as in the wrong as Humbert. Lolita is the one who brings upon the sex with Humbert, whether or not he sets up the situation in the first place. So why then, is Humbert the bad guy in nearly all eyes? Because we can read his perverted thoughts, we get an insight into his misleading plots, and we can see how he ignores his conscience. Lolita, on the other hand, is harder to understand because we cannot read her thoughts, and merely see her actions, which are often sporadic and in and out character, leaving us as confused as Humbert.
Lolita, plot device or not, makes the story what it is. She is somehow beautiful, stubborn, naïve, and rational all at the same time. She creates something for the reader to follow, fall for, and sympathize with, as she journeys around the country with her middle aged lover. She is both emotional and emotionless. She is innocent and yet sensual. She is wrong and yet right. Lolita is, in her own right, a walking paradox. (720)
Just recently (early this February, to be exact) Woolworth’s, the chain of retail stores in Great Britain, removed bedroom furniture intended for young girls from it’s inventory because the brand name was Lolita. Angry mothers raised concerns and protested because surely their six-year old daughters would become sexually active nymphets from sleeping in, or merely coexisting in a world with, Lolita beds. Although the connection can be made between the brand name and the character in Nabokov’s novel, I found the whole thing to be a bit over the top and out of hand.
Now back to the real topic at hand, the novel itself. Many critics argue that Lolita is merely a plot device, one that Nabokov uses to create and develop the character of Humbert Humbert. But without the Lolita character, Humbert is just a middle aged pervert who sits in the park and dreams about young girls. It is not until he finds a young girl with whom he can act on his desires that his character comes full circle. Therefore I think that Lolita deserves more credit than being referred to as a plot device. She is a dynamic character, one that the reader can sympathize with, can become frustrated with, and one that can be hard to predict at times. The reader gets the opportunity to grow with her, following her from adolescence to adulthood. She starts young, prepubescent and ignorant. Then she matures throughout the novel, having multiple shifts in attitude and character, until the novel ends with her married and with child. Being able to follow her through this important part of life allows the reader to feel a connection with her that is lost with Humbert, who stays relatively the same throughout the story.
There are alternate reasons why Lolita strikes a nerve with readers, making a name for herself as a character rather than just a plot device or title. As humans, we know what is right and what is wrong. For example, in Western society murder is looked upon as wrong. And in nearly all cases, the murdered will receive more sympathy than the murdered, whether or not the murdered is equally in the wrong. Just like in Lolita, it takes an objective reader to realize, but Lolita is just as in the wrong as Humbert. Lolita is the one who brings upon the sex with Humbert, whether or not he sets up the situation in the first place. So why then, is Humbert the bad guy in nearly all eyes? Because we can read his perverted thoughts, we get an insight into his misleading plots, and we can see how he ignores his conscience. Lolita, on the other hand, is harder to understand because we cannot read her thoughts, and merely see her actions, which are often sporadic and in and out character, leaving us as confused as Humbert.
Lolita, plot device or not, makes the story what it is. She is somehow beautiful, stubborn, naïve, and rational all at the same time. She creates something for the reader to follow, fall for, and sympathize with, as she journeys around the country with her middle aged lover. She is both emotional and emotionless. She is innocent and yet sensual. She is wrong and yet right. Lolita is, in her own right, a walking paradox. (720)
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
My Guilty Pleasure I'm Not So Guilty About
It is bizarre to me how Vladimir Nabokov can transform something that is as taboo as pedophilia into something surprisingly poetic and engaging. While reading Lolita, I found myself sickened, and yet mesmerized at the same time. How could that be? It seems as though I have discovered my guilty pleasure. Nabokov’s novel rallies around a forbidden and perverse love affair between a twelve year old girl, Lolita, and a thirty-seven year old man, Humbert. (Disclaimer: By referring to this novel as my ‘guilty pleasure’, I am not by any means expressing approval of the relationship between Lolita and Humbert in reality, merely in theory.) Humbert Humbert, the main character, finds himself lusting over young girls, whom he refers to as ‘nymphets’. His lust is the backbone of the novel, as the reader follows him on his journey to make up for the loss of his adolescent love by trying to find new love with his favorite little nymphet, Lolita.
The novel starts with the introduction of Lolita, before the reader even knows who the narrator, Humbert, is. The then anonymous narrator introduces her as, “...Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.” From the last sentence, the reader can foreshadow a relationship of some sort, and possibly even a love affair (at least a one-way love, from the direction of Humbert), between him and Lolita. The reader then learns that this lust for Lolita stems from Humbert’s past love for Lolita’s precursor, “a certain initial girl-child”, Annabel, who suffered a premature death from typhus. Strangely, from the moment Humbert met Lolita, all I wanted was for them to be together. I put the age difference in the back of my mind, and was rooting for them throughout a majority of the story. This hopeful feeling that enveloped me stemmed from Humbert’s sharing the story his heartbreaking relationship with Annabel to the reader. He reflects on their relationship, sharing with the reader that, “The spiritual and the physical had been blended in us with a perfection that must remain incomprehensible to the matter-of-fact, crude, standard-brained youngsters of today. Long after her death I felt her thoughts floating through mine. Long before we met we had had the same dreams.” Somehow, him being certain that he would never love again, and then meeting Lolita and changing his views, allows the reader to relate in a way that helps them to forget about the perverse nature of Humbert’s lust for Lolita.
The aspects of Lolita that make it come across as disturbing and immoral are diminished by Nabokov’s writing style. His eloquent and lyrical prose could make even the most sadistic act seem acceptable, the most unattractive person appear beautiful, or the most heartbreaking tale somewhat blissful. He can make the reader feel as though they are present in 1948, in Humbert’s shoes, facing the same moral dilemmas, having the same heart wrenching feelings, and witnessing the same sights. Towards the end of the story, Nabokov allows the reader, in merely two sentences, to become Humbert’s eyes: “One could make out the geometry of the streets between blocks of red and gray roofs, and green puffs of trees, and a serpentine stream, and the rich, ore-like glitter of the city dump, and beyond the town, roads crisscrossing the crazy quilt of dark and pale fields, and behind it all, great timbered mountains. But even brighter than those quietly rejoicing colors - for there are colors and shades that seem to enjoy themselves in good company - both brighter and dreamier to the ear than they were to the eye, was that vapory vibration of accumulated sounds that never ceased for a moment, as it rose to the lip of granite where I stood wiping my foul mouth.” It is Nabokov’s beautiful writing, his dynamic characters, and ingeniously crafted suspense that makes readers, such as myself, surprised to find themselves engulfed by Lolita. (680)
The novel starts with the introduction of Lolita, before the reader even knows who the narrator, Humbert, is. The then anonymous narrator introduces her as, “...Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.” From the last sentence, the reader can foreshadow a relationship of some sort, and possibly even a love affair (at least a one-way love, from the direction of Humbert), between him and Lolita. The reader then learns that this lust for Lolita stems from Humbert’s past love for Lolita’s precursor, “a certain initial girl-child”, Annabel, who suffered a premature death from typhus. Strangely, from the moment Humbert met Lolita, all I wanted was for them to be together. I put the age difference in the back of my mind, and was rooting for them throughout a majority of the story. This hopeful feeling that enveloped me stemmed from Humbert’s sharing the story his heartbreaking relationship with Annabel to the reader. He reflects on their relationship, sharing with the reader that, “The spiritual and the physical had been blended in us with a perfection that must remain incomprehensible to the matter-of-fact, crude, standard-brained youngsters of today. Long after her death I felt her thoughts floating through mine. Long before we met we had had the same dreams.” Somehow, him being certain that he would never love again, and then meeting Lolita and changing his views, allows the reader to relate in a way that helps them to forget about the perverse nature of Humbert’s lust for Lolita.
The aspects of Lolita that make it come across as disturbing and immoral are diminished by Nabokov’s writing style. His eloquent and lyrical prose could make even the most sadistic act seem acceptable, the most unattractive person appear beautiful, or the most heartbreaking tale somewhat blissful. He can make the reader feel as though they are present in 1948, in Humbert’s shoes, facing the same moral dilemmas, having the same heart wrenching feelings, and witnessing the same sights. Towards the end of the story, Nabokov allows the reader, in merely two sentences, to become Humbert’s eyes: “One could make out the geometry of the streets between blocks of red and gray roofs, and green puffs of trees, and a serpentine stream, and the rich, ore-like glitter of the city dump, and beyond the town, roads crisscrossing the crazy quilt of dark and pale fields, and behind it all, great timbered mountains. But even brighter than those quietly rejoicing colors - for there are colors and shades that seem to enjoy themselves in good company - both brighter and dreamier to the ear than they were to the eye, was that vapory vibration of accumulated sounds that never ceased for a moment, as it rose to the lip of granite where I stood wiping my foul mouth.” It is Nabokov’s beautiful writing, his dynamic characters, and ingeniously crafted suspense that makes readers, such as myself, surprised to find themselves engulfed by Lolita. (680)
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part.
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part;
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou mightst him yet recover.
- Michael Drayton
Michael Drayton’s poem “Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part”, written during the Elizabethan Era, is considered by some to be one of the best sonnets of all time, and undoubtedly Drayton’s best. The poem touches on the deaths of Love, Passion, Faith and Innocence, drawing out the feelings that one goes through during the ending of a relationship. Drayton creates a beautiful balance between simplicity and eloquence by combining both elementary words and complicated composition. The Elizabethan sonnet is written in form a b a b, c d c d, e f e f, g g. Because of the rhyme scheme, there tends to be three places during the poem where the poet’s thoughts are expected to change, and turn in another direction. Sometimes the poet may even end the poem with a surprising twist in lines g g, as evident in Drayton’s poem.
From reading the first two quatrains of the poem, the reader is certain that the speaker, a man who has found himself nearing the end of a relationship, is confident that he is ready for his relationship to be over. From the first line (also the title of the poem) “Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part” (1, 2), the poet has doomed the relationship. Also lines like, “And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart” (3) and “Be it not seen in either of our brows/ That we one jot of former love retain” (7, 8) show that the speaker has little or no doubt that he is prepared for the break up, and that he is happy. In these first eight lines, the speaker uses first person, and sets up the problem that will be discussed and mulled over in the rest of the poem: whether or not the speaker is truly ready for the end of his relationship.
In the third quatrain, the speaker begins to use third person, and talks about Love as something that is dying. He personifies Love as a man who is lying on his death bed and taking his “last gasp” (9), using imagery like “his pulse failing” (10) and “closing up his eyes” (12). This change in tone shows the speakers’ reflection on his relationship and what it is like to have Love fade away, or ‘die’. Three aspects of love are also personified: Passion, Faith and Innocence. These three concepts are looked at as friends of Love, companions who are witnessing, and giving up on, Love. Although Passion, Faith and Innocence are often seen as important aspects of a relationship, during the third quatrain, they are seen as being “speechless” (10), weak, and lost. The Passion, lying “speechless” (10) next to Love, is no longer abundant and exciting, as Passion is usually thought of in relationships. Faith, “kneeling by his bed of death” (11), is seen as weak through the image of kneeling, rather than powerful, as Faith usually is. And Innocence, as often seen through the eyes of young lovers, has been lost, and closes “up his eyes” (12), dying along with Love.
The strong imagery and personification in the third quatrain leaves the reader with an almost hopeless attitude toward the relationship. Although there seems to be a small possibility that Love will not die, and that Passion, Faith and Innocence will not give up on him, it seems unlikely. But upon reading the couplet, in true Elizabethan style, Drayton surprises the reader with a new idea. The couplet, written in second person, changes the roles of the speaker and the reader. The reader becomes the woman, Love becomes the man, and the speaker is merely the narrator. The speaker, directing his words towards the woman (the reader), is saying, “Wait! Don’t give up on him. There is still a chance. Yes, Passion, Faith and Innocence have all given up on him (Love), but there’s still you! ‘If thou wouldst’ (13), Love can be saved.”
This poem draws a thin line between love and hate, and shows the reader the confusion and uncertainty that comes with the ending of a relationship. Although at the beginning of the poem, the speaker seems as though he is in control of his feelings and the status of his relationship, towards the end of the poem it becomes apparent that is not true. It turns out that it is only the woman who can save him and their relationship, and it will take him getting over his pride in order for that to happen. Despite the fact that it seems difficult for the man to yield some of his ‘power’ and tell the woman how he truly feels, it is necessary, so he allows the woman to help at the end of the poem. It becomes evident, that even when is seems like there is no solution, that there is some way in which Love can be restored back to life. One can rebuild the Passion, find a new Faith, and return to the childlike Innocence of newly born lovers. (842)
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou mightst him yet recover.
- Michael Drayton
Michael Drayton’s poem “Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part”, written during the Elizabethan Era, is considered by some to be one of the best sonnets of all time, and undoubtedly Drayton’s best. The poem touches on the deaths of Love, Passion, Faith and Innocence, drawing out the feelings that one goes through during the ending of a relationship. Drayton creates a beautiful balance between simplicity and eloquence by combining both elementary words and complicated composition. The Elizabethan sonnet is written in form a b a b, c d c d, e f e f, g g. Because of the rhyme scheme, there tends to be three places during the poem where the poet’s thoughts are expected to change, and turn in another direction. Sometimes the poet may even end the poem with a surprising twist in lines g g, as evident in Drayton’s poem.
From reading the first two quatrains of the poem, the reader is certain that the speaker, a man who has found himself nearing the end of a relationship, is confident that he is ready for his relationship to be over. From the first line (also the title of the poem) “Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part” (1, 2), the poet has doomed the relationship. Also lines like, “And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart” (3) and “Be it not seen in either of our brows/ That we one jot of former love retain” (7, 8) show that the speaker has little or no doubt that he is prepared for the break up, and that he is happy. In these first eight lines, the speaker uses first person, and sets up the problem that will be discussed and mulled over in the rest of the poem: whether or not the speaker is truly ready for the end of his relationship.
In the third quatrain, the speaker begins to use third person, and talks about Love as something that is dying. He personifies Love as a man who is lying on his death bed and taking his “last gasp” (9), using imagery like “his pulse failing” (10) and “closing up his eyes” (12). This change in tone shows the speakers’ reflection on his relationship and what it is like to have Love fade away, or ‘die’. Three aspects of love are also personified: Passion, Faith and Innocence. These three concepts are looked at as friends of Love, companions who are witnessing, and giving up on, Love. Although Passion, Faith and Innocence are often seen as important aspects of a relationship, during the third quatrain, they are seen as being “speechless” (10), weak, and lost. The Passion, lying “speechless” (10) next to Love, is no longer abundant and exciting, as Passion is usually thought of in relationships. Faith, “kneeling by his bed of death” (11), is seen as weak through the image of kneeling, rather than powerful, as Faith usually is. And Innocence, as often seen through the eyes of young lovers, has been lost, and closes “up his eyes” (12), dying along with Love.
The strong imagery and personification in the third quatrain leaves the reader with an almost hopeless attitude toward the relationship. Although there seems to be a small possibility that Love will not die, and that Passion, Faith and Innocence will not give up on him, it seems unlikely. But upon reading the couplet, in true Elizabethan style, Drayton surprises the reader with a new idea. The couplet, written in second person, changes the roles of the speaker and the reader. The reader becomes the woman, Love becomes the man, and the speaker is merely the narrator. The speaker, directing his words towards the woman (the reader), is saying, “Wait! Don’t give up on him. There is still a chance. Yes, Passion, Faith and Innocence have all given up on him (Love), but there’s still you! ‘If thou wouldst’ (13), Love can be saved.”
This poem draws a thin line between love and hate, and shows the reader the confusion and uncertainty that comes with the ending of a relationship. Although at the beginning of the poem, the speaker seems as though he is in control of his feelings and the status of his relationship, towards the end of the poem it becomes apparent that is not true. It turns out that it is only the woman who can save him and their relationship, and it will take him getting over his pride in order for that to happen. Despite the fact that it seems difficult for the man to yield some of his ‘power’ and tell the woman how he truly feels, it is necessary, so he allows the woman to help at the end of the poem. It becomes evident, that even when is seems like there is no solution, that there is some way in which Love can be restored back to life. One can rebuild the Passion, find a new Faith, and return to the childlike Innocence of newly born lovers. (842)
Sunday, March 9, 2008
A Hopi Prayer
(I found on a different webpage a slightly different version of the poem I had previously posted as "Grieve Not" by Mary Frye. I am not sure which version is the official one, so I thought I would post them both.)
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
- Mary Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
- Mary Frye
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Don't Be Plasticine. Don't Forget To Be The Way You Are.
A Doll’s House is the perfect title for Henrik Ibsen’s play. The play revolves around the relationship between Nora, a seemingly careless, yet truly cunning and thoughtful woman, and her condescending and domineering husband Torvald. At the beginning of the play the reader is tricked into believing that Nora, Torvald, and their three children live in a perfect world, only to see their true characters at the close of the play. Nora is the stereotypical housewife, both beautiful and easy going. Torvald is the model husband, hardworking and supportive. And the children are well-behaved, and have a strong relationship with their parents. The family, from the outside, is perfectly sculpted and put together. But like most dolls upon closer inspection, they are merely synthetic.
Nora Helmer has spent a large part of her married life concealing a secret, a secret that she believes she is protecting her husband by keeping to herself. So why then, if she is truly protecting her husband, does this secret lead to the deterioration of her marriage? By the end of the story, the reader realizes that Nora is not the typical housewife. She is not as playful and easy going as she seems in the beginning, but just uses these qualities to cover up the truth. When Torvald reads the letter from Krogstad uncovering Nora’s long kept secret, and Nora sees how Torvald responds to the situation, not only are her true colors showing to Torvald, but she sees Torvald’s as well. By keeping the secret and covering up her true identity, Nora is not the only fake person, but she is allowing her husband to be a fake person as well.
Early on, Torvald Helmer seems like Mr. Right. He has a great job, and is a supportive and loving husband. Although sometimes condescending, Ibsen leads the reader to believe that no matter what, Torvald will always be there for Nora. Nora also believes that Torvald loves her enough to forgive her for her mistake. She awaits the ‘miracle’ when Torvald offers to take the blame for her wrongdoing, in order to protect her. When instead, Torvald gets upset with Nora and tells her that she must take the blame for her mistake, the make-believe world that that the Helmer’s have been living in is shattered. Nora realizes that Torvald has been so blinded by his misconception of both herself and reality that he cannot see that Nora made the decision to loan the money in order to save him.
I was amazed to see Nora react as strongly as she did at the end of the story, because she had not given off the impression of being an independent and responsive person throughout the majority of the story. I was proud of her for finally realizing that her happiness had not been sincere, and that in order to find true happiness she had to not only find herself, but she had to rid herself of those things that had made her fake in the first place. One thing that I found rather disappointing was Nora’s decision to leave her children. Putting myself in her children’s shoes, I would be not only devastated but also puzzled as to why my mother left without a word. Even if it was explained to me that there were problems between her and my father, I feel as though I would blame myself for her sudden departure. Hopefully those three children can take a lesson from their mother and father, and learn that even splinter-free doll houses crumble eventually.
(592)
Nora Helmer has spent a large part of her married life concealing a secret, a secret that she believes she is protecting her husband by keeping to herself. So why then, if she is truly protecting her husband, does this secret lead to the deterioration of her marriage? By the end of the story, the reader realizes that Nora is not the typical housewife. She is not as playful and easy going as she seems in the beginning, but just uses these qualities to cover up the truth. When Torvald reads the letter from Krogstad uncovering Nora’s long kept secret, and Nora sees how Torvald responds to the situation, not only are her true colors showing to Torvald, but she sees Torvald’s as well. By keeping the secret and covering up her true identity, Nora is not the only fake person, but she is allowing her husband to be a fake person as well.
Early on, Torvald Helmer seems like Mr. Right. He has a great job, and is a supportive and loving husband. Although sometimes condescending, Ibsen leads the reader to believe that no matter what, Torvald will always be there for Nora. Nora also believes that Torvald loves her enough to forgive her for her mistake. She awaits the ‘miracle’ when Torvald offers to take the blame for her wrongdoing, in order to protect her. When instead, Torvald gets upset with Nora and tells her that she must take the blame for her mistake, the make-believe world that that the Helmer’s have been living in is shattered. Nora realizes that Torvald has been so blinded by his misconception of both herself and reality that he cannot see that Nora made the decision to loan the money in order to save him.
I was amazed to see Nora react as strongly as she did at the end of the story, because she had not given off the impression of being an independent and responsive person throughout the majority of the story. I was proud of her for finally realizing that her happiness had not been sincere, and that in order to find true happiness she had to not only find herself, but she had to rid herself of those things that had made her fake in the first place. One thing that I found rather disappointing was Nora’s decision to leave her children. Putting myself in her children’s shoes, I would be not only devastated but also puzzled as to why my mother left without a word. Even if it was explained to me that there were problems between her and my father, I feel as though I would blame myself for her sudden departure. Hopefully those three children can take a lesson from their mother and father, and learn that even splinter-free doll houses crumble eventually.
(592)
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Bongo Bango
Bongo Bango
Do a tango
In the light fandango
With a mango
A map atap a
A mouth a rapa
Rapa tapa
Tango ringo
Bingo banga
Mango mingus
Aero lingus
Lingo langa
Tanga tingle
Mingle mangle
Dangel dingel
Bingell baangle
Bango bonga
Conga Kango
Cappa frappa
Flappa dappa
Gangsta rappa
Beat da bappa
Bango tappa
Tingo bongo
A Gongo banga
A Bango bonga
O Bongo Rappa
O Rappa tappa
O dango fango
A Mango Tango
O Bongo Bango
- Kat Caverly
Do a tango
In the light fandango
With a mango
A map atap a
A mouth a rapa
Rapa tapa
Tango ringo
Bingo banga
Mango mingus
Aero lingus
Lingo langa
Tanga tingle
Mingle mangle
Dangel dingel
Bingell baangle
Bango bonga
Conga Kango
Cappa frappa
Flappa dappa
Gangsta rappa
Beat da bappa
Bango tappa
Tingo bongo
A Gongo banga
A Bango bonga
O Bongo Rappa
O Rappa tappa
O dango fango
A Mango Tango
O Bongo Bango
- Kat Caverly
Friday, February 29, 2008
Turn Again To Life
If I should die and leave you here a while,
be not like others sore undone,
who keep long vigil by the silent dust.
For my sake turn again to life and smile,
nerving thy heart and trembling hand
to do something to comfort other hearts than thine.
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine
and I perchance may therein comfort you.
- Mary Lee Hall
be not like others sore undone,
who keep long vigil by the silent dust.
For my sake turn again to life and smile,
nerving thy heart and trembling hand
to do something to comfort other hearts than thine.
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine
and I perchance may therein comfort you.
- Mary Lee Hall
Spell Chequer
Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a quay and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
It's rare lea ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
It's letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
- Martha Snow
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a quay and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
It's rare lea ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
It's letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
- Martha Snow
Grieve Not
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain.
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am the morning hush.
I am the graceful rush
of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am the star shine of the night.
I am the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room.
I am the birds that sing.
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
-Mary Frye
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain.
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am the morning hush.
I am the graceful rush
of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am the star shine of the night.
I am the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room.
I am the birds that sing.
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
-Mary Frye
Thursday, February 21, 2008
All That That Implies Are Lies, Surprise, Surprise.
Act III Scene IV: The Queen's Closet
[Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE and POLONIUS]
LORD POLONIUS
He will come straight. Look you lay home to him:
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,
And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between
Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.
Pray you, be round with him.
Polonius, obviously frustrated, tells Gertrude sternly that there is no time for beating around the bush, and that as Hamlet’s mother she must do something to end his outlandish behavior.
HAMLET
[Within] Mother, mother, mother!
QUEEN GERTRUDE
I'll warrant you,
Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.
Irritated by Polonius, and worried about Hamlet finding her with Polonius, Gertrude motions hastily for Polonius to take leave.
[POLONIUS hides behind the arras]
[Enter HAMLET]
HAMLET
Now, mother, what's the matter?
Hamlet finds his mother slightly disheveled, and can tell at first glance that something is up and she is not herself.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
Gertrude is trying to be as stern as possible while also pleading to Hamlet’s soft side.
HAMLET
Mother, you have my father much offended.
Quickly turning his mother’s words around, Hamlet, offended and surprised by his mother’s comment, makes it clear that he will not accept Claudius as his father.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
HAMLET
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
Hamlet continues with his sass.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Why, how now, Hamlet!
Gertrude is becoming disheartened.
HAMLET
What's the matter now?
Although Hamlet is aware of what is that matter with his mother, he asks calmly, prying as a way to egg her on.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Have you forgot me?
HAMLET
No, by the rood, not so:
You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;
And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.
Hamlet, in a snide tone, is further reinforcing his distaste for his mother’s choice in marrying Claudius.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.
Gertrude seems to give up here, offering for Hamlet to talk to someone else who can deal with his attitude.
HAMLET
Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;
You go not till I set you up a glass
Where you may see the inmost part of you.
Hamlet, realizing he may have gone too far, motions for his mother to sit down and then walks away to get her a drink.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?
Help, help, ho!
Gertrude thinks that Hamlet is going to poison her and she is fearful and begins to back away from him. Aware that Polonius is behind the arras and the only one who could help her, she frantically cries for help.
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help!
Polonius shouts from behind the arras, frightening Hamlet who was not aware that there was anyone behind the curtain. He believes that it is Claudius.
HAMLET
[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!
Hamlet, thinking this is his opportunity to kill Claudius, pulls his sword and advances towards the arras. He tells ‘Claudius’ that he knows that he killed his father, and stabs through the arras.
[Makes a pass through the arras]
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] O, I am slain!
Polonius, realizing he is slain, falls to the ground. In the background Gertrude screams in shock and horror.
[Falls and dies]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET
Nay, I know not:
Is it the king?
Hamlet is completely oblivious to the fact that he just killed Polonius, for he could not see the man he stabbed.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
Gertrude, hysterical, is shocked by Hamlet’s impulsiveness.
HAMLET
A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,
As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
Hamlet says that killing ‘Claudius’ was just in retribution for Claudius killing his brother and marrying his widow, therefore justifying his own actions.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
As kill a king!
Gertrude is still hysterical, and slightly confused as to why Hamlet keeps talking about killing the king.
HAMLET
Ay, lady, 'twas my word.
Hamlet still believes that he killed Claudius, and tells Gertrude that he did it because he had given his word (to the Ghost).
[Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS]
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,
And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,
If it be made of penetrable stuff,
If damned custom have not brass'd it so
That it is proof and bulwark against sense.
Upon finding Polonius, Hamlet does not immediately feel guilty but merely calls Polonius out on being a sneak, and puts the blame on anyone but himself.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue
In noise so rude against me?
Gertrude is greatly offended by Hamlet’s actions and words. She is pacing back and forth across the room.
HAMLET
Such an act
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty,
Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love
And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows
As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul, and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow:
Yea, this solidity and compound mass,
With tristful visage, as against the doom,
Is thought-sick at the act.
Hamlet, in a rage, continues to yell at his mother. She is becoming increasingly more frightened.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Ay me, what act,
That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?
HAMLET
Look here, upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
See, what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
A station like the herald Mercury
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
To give the world assurance of a man:
This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:
Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?
You cannot call it love; for at your age
The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment
Hamlet tells Gertrude that he knows Claudius murdered his father, and makes Gertrude begin to feel ashamed of her marriage. He asks her, “Have you eyes?”, with a look of disgust, and rampantly throwing up his arms.
Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,
Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense
Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,
Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd
But it reserved some quantity of choice,
To serve in such a difference. What devil was't
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,
Or but a sickly part of one true sense
Could not so mope.
O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,
And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,
Since frost itself as actively doth burn
And reason panders will.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, speak no more:
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
And there I see such black and grained spots
As will not leave their tinct.
Gertrude does not want to have to confront her sins.
HAMLET
Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,
Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love
Over the nasty sty,--
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, speak to me no more;
These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears;
No more, sweet Hamlet!
Gertrude, upset and offended, turns around and begins to leave slowly, but Hamlet follows behind her, speaking softly and passionately into her ear.
HAMLET
A murderer and a villain;
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket!
Hamlet’s passion is almost too great, as his desire to kill Claudius grows stronger.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No more!
Gertrude stops in her tracks and turns around to face Hamlet, yelling as she says “No more!”.
HAMLET
A king of shreds and patches,--
[Enter Ghost]
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,
You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?
Hamlet speaks to the ghost, but Gertrude cannot see it. She is confused about who Hamlet could be speaking to.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, he's mad!
HAMLET
Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by
The important acting of your dread command? O, say!
GHOST
Do not forget: this visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
O, step between her and her fighting soul:
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:
Speak to her, Hamlet.
The ghost is trying to calm Hamlet down, and remind him that his purpose is to hurt Claudius, and to leave his mother to her own fate.
HAMLET
How is it with you, lady?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, how is't with you,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
Gertrude, looking around, inquires about what/who Hamlet is addressing.
HAMLET
On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!
His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;
Lest with this piteous action you convert
My stern effects: then what I have to do
Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood.
Hamlet is shocked to hear that his mother cannot see the ghost, and speaks slowly and quietly.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
To whom do you speak this?
HAMLET
Do you see nothing there?
Hamlet points to where he sees the ghost.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
Gertrude looks, and shakes her head to imply that she cannot see the ghost.
HAMLET
Nor did you nothing hear?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No, nothing but ourselves.
HAMLET
Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!
My father, in his habit as he lived!
Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!
Hamlet, slightly frantic, tries one last time to show his mother what he is talking about before the ghost slips away. He points and motions, but Gertrude cannot see it.
[Exit Ghost]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
This the very coinage of your brain:
This bodiless creation ecstasy
Is very cunning in.
HAMLET
Ecstasy!
My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthful music: it is not madness
That I have utter'd: bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word; which madness
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that mattering unction to your soul,
That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;
And do not spread the compost on the weeds,
To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;
For in the fatness of these pursy times
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg,
Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.
Hamlet, calmer now, gives Gertrude advice. He also informs her that he is not truly insane.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
HAMLET
O, throw away the worser part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;
Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,
Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,
That to the use of actions fair and good
He likewise gives a frock or livery,
That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,
And that shall lend a kind of easiness
To the next abstinence: the next more easy;
For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out
With wondrous potency. Once more, good night:
And when you are desirous to be bless'd,
I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,
Turning towards where Polonius lay slain, Hamlet gets closer to him and appologizes.
[Pointing to POLONIUS]
I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,
To punish me with this and this with me,
That I must be their scourge and minister.
I will bestow him, and will answer well
The death I gave him. So, again, good night.
I must be cruel, only to be kind:
Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.
One word more, good lady.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What shall I do?
HAMLET
Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:
Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;
Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;
And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,
Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,
Make you to ravel all this matter out,
That I essentially am not in madness,
But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;
For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,
Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?
No, in despite of sense and secrecy,
Unpeg the basket on the house's top.
Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape,
To try conclusions, in the basket creep,
And break your own neck down.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Be thou assured, if words be made of breath,
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
What thou hast said to me.
Hamlet turns and walks away, leaving Gertrude to herself to think about what just happened.
[End scene]
[Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE and POLONIUS]
LORD POLONIUS
He will come straight. Look you lay home to him:
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,
And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between
Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.
Pray you, be round with him.
Polonius, obviously frustrated, tells Gertrude sternly that there is no time for beating around the bush, and that as Hamlet’s mother she must do something to end his outlandish behavior.
HAMLET
[Within] Mother, mother, mother!
QUEEN GERTRUDE
I'll warrant you,
Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.
Irritated by Polonius, and worried about Hamlet finding her with Polonius, Gertrude motions hastily for Polonius to take leave.
[POLONIUS hides behind the arras]
[Enter HAMLET]
HAMLET
Now, mother, what's the matter?
Hamlet finds his mother slightly disheveled, and can tell at first glance that something is up and she is not herself.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
Gertrude is trying to be as stern as possible while also pleading to Hamlet’s soft side.
HAMLET
Mother, you have my father much offended.
Quickly turning his mother’s words around, Hamlet, offended and surprised by his mother’s comment, makes it clear that he will not accept Claudius as his father.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
HAMLET
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
Hamlet continues with his sass.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Why, how now, Hamlet!
Gertrude is becoming disheartened.
HAMLET
What's the matter now?
Although Hamlet is aware of what is that matter with his mother, he asks calmly, prying as a way to egg her on.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Have you forgot me?
HAMLET
No, by the rood, not so:
You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;
And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.
Hamlet, in a snide tone, is further reinforcing his distaste for his mother’s choice in marrying Claudius.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.
Gertrude seems to give up here, offering for Hamlet to talk to someone else who can deal with his attitude.
HAMLET
Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;
You go not till I set you up a glass
Where you may see the inmost part of you.
Hamlet, realizing he may have gone too far, motions for his mother to sit down and then walks away to get her a drink.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?
Help, help, ho!
Gertrude thinks that Hamlet is going to poison her and she is fearful and begins to back away from him. Aware that Polonius is behind the arras and the only one who could help her, she frantically cries for help.
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help!
Polonius shouts from behind the arras, frightening Hamlet who was not aware that there was anyone behind the curtain. He believes that it is Claudius.
HAMLET
[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!
Hamlet, thinking this is his opportunity to kill Claudius, pulls his sword and advances towards the arras. He tells ‘Claudius’ that he knows that he killed his father, and stabs through the arras.
[Makes a pass through the arras]
LORD POLONIUS
[Behind] O, I am slain!
Polonius, realizing he is slain, falls to the ground. In the background Gertrude screams in shock and horror.
[Falls and dies]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET
Nay, I know not:
Is it the king?
Hamlet is completely oblivious to the fact that he just killed Polonius, for he could not see the man he stabbed.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
Gertrude, hysterical, is shocked by Hamlet’s impulsiveness.
HAMLET
A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,
As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
Hamlet says that killing ‘Claudius’ was just in retribution for Claudius killing his brother and marrying his widow, therefore justifying his own actions.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
As kill a king!
Gertrude is still hysterical, and slightly confused as to why Hamlet keeps talking about killing the king.
HAMLET
Ay, lady, 'twas my word.
Hamlet still believes that he killed Claudius, and tells Gertrude that he did it because he had given his word (to the Ghost).
[Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS]
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,
And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,
If it be made of penetrable stuff,
If damned custom have not brass'd it so
That it is proof and bulwark against sense.
Upon finding Polonius, Hamlet does not immediately feel guilty but merely calls Polonius out on being a sneak, and puts the blame on anyone but himself.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue
In noise so rude against me?
Gertrude is greatly offended by Hamlet’s actions and words. She is pacing back and forth across the room.
HAMLET
Such an act
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty,
Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love
And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows
As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul, and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow:
Yea, this solidity and compound mass,
With tristful visage, as against the doom,
Is thought-sick at the act.
Hamlet, in a rage, continues to yell at his mother. She is becoming increasingly more frightened.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Ay me, what act,
That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?
HAMLET
Look here, upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
See, what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
A station like the herald Mercury
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
To give the world assurance of a man:
This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:
Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?
You cannot call it love; for at your age
The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment
Hamlet tells Gertrude that he knows Claudius murdered his father, and makes Gertrude begin to feel ashamed of her marriage. He asks her, “Have you eyes?”, with a look of disgust, and rampantly throwing up his arms.
Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,
Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense
Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,
Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd
But it reserved some quantity of choice,
To serve in such a difference. What devil was't
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,
Or but a sickly part of one true sense
Could not so mope.
O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,
And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,
Since frost itself as actively doth burn
And reason panders will.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, speak no more:
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
And there I see such black and grained spots
As will not leave their tinct.
Gertrude does not want to have to confront her sins.
HAMLET
Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,
Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love
Over the nasty sty,--
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O, speak to me no more;
These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears;
No more, sweet Hamlet!
Gertrude, upset and offended, turns around and begins to leave slowly, but Hamlet follows behind her, speaking softly and passionately into her ear.
HAMLET
A murderer and a villain;
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket!
Hamlet’s passion is almost too great, as his desire to kill Claudius grows stronger.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No more!
Gertrude stops in her tracks and turns around to face Hamlet, yelling as she says “No more!”.
HAMLET
A king of shreds and patches,--
[Enter Ghost]
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,
You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?
Hamlet speaks to the ghost, but Gertrude cannot see it. She is confused about who Hamlet could be speaking to.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, he's mad!
HAMLET
Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by
The important acting of your dread command? O, say!
GHOST
Do not forget: this visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
O, step between her and her fighting soul:
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:
Speak to her, Hamlet.
The ghost is trying to calm Hamlet down, and remind him that his purpose is to hurt Claudius, and to leave his mother to her own fate.
HAMLET
How is it with you, lady?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alas, how is't with you,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
Gertrude, looking around, inquires about what/who Hamlet is addressing.
HAMLET
On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!
His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;
Lest with this piteous action you convert
My stern effects: then what I have to do
Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood.
Hamlet is shocked to hear that his mother cannot see the ghost, and speaks slowly and quietly.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
To whom do you speak this?
HAMLET
Do you see nothing there?
Hamlet points to where he sees the ghost.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
Gertrude looks, and shakes her head to imply that she cannot see the ghost.
HAMLET
Nor did you nothing hear?
QUEEN GERTRUDE
No, nothing but ourselves.
HAMLET
Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!
My father, in his habit as he lived!
Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!
Hamlet, slightly frantic, tries one last time to show his mother what he is talking about before the ghost slips away. He points and motions, but Gertrude cannot see it.
[Exit Ghost]
QUEEN GERTRUDE
This the very coinage of your brain:
This bodiless creation ecstasy
Is very cunning in.
HAMLET
Ecstasy!
My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthful music: it is not madness
That I have utter'd: bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word; which madness
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that mattering unction to your soul,
That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;
And do not spread the compost on the weeds,
To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;
For in the fatness of these pursy times
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg,
Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.
Hamlet, calmer now, gives Gertrude advice. He also informs her that he is not truly insane.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
HAMLET
O, throw away the worser part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;
Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,
Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,
That to the use of actions fair and good
He likewise gives a frock or livery,
That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,
And that shall lend a kind of easiness
To the next abstinence: the next more easy;
For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out
With wondrous potency. Once more, good night:
And when you are desirous to be bless'd,
I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,
Turning towards where Polonius lay slain, Hamlet gets closer to him and appologizes.
[Pointing to POLONIUS]
I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,
To punish me with this and this with me,
That I must be their scourge and minister.
I will bestow him, and will answer well
The death I gave him. So, again, good night.
I must be cruel, only to be kind:
Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.
One word more, good lady.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
What shall I do?
HAMLET
Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:
Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;
Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;
And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,
Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,
Make you to ravel all this matter out,
That I essentially am not in madness,
But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;
For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,
Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?
No, in despite of sense and secrecy,
Unpeg the basket on the house's top.
Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape,
To try conclusions, in the basket creep,
And break your own neck down.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Be thou assured, if words be made of breath,
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
What thou hast said to me.
Hamlet turns and walks away, leaving Gertrude to herself to think about what just happened.
[End scene]
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
My Favorite Quotes and Lyrics
"She said she usually cried at least once each day; not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful and life was so short."
- Brian Andreas
"I've learned that good-byes will always hurt, pictures never replace having been there, memories good or bad will bring tears, and words can never replace feelings."
- Unknown
"Imperfection is beauty; madness is genius; and it is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." - Marilyn Monroe
"If the people we love are stolen from us,
The way we have them live on, is to remember them.
Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever."
- ‘The Crow’ (movie)
"Celebrate we will, 'cause life is short but sweet for certain."
- Dave Matthew's Band, ‘Two Step’
"Nothing makes the Earth so spacious as to have friends at a distance."
- Henry David Thoreau
"All of us get lost in the darkness; dreamers learn to steer by the stars."
- Rush, 'The Pass'
"When caught between two evils, I generally like to take the one I've never tried."
- Mae West
"When he shall die take him
And cut him out in little stars
And he will make the face of heav'n so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
"I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints,
Sinners are much more fun."
- Billy Joel, ‘Only the Good Die Young’
"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These people have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep, loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen."
- Elizabeth Kubler Ross
"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."
- Oliver Wendell Holmes
"See you and me have a better time than most can dream of, better than the best, so we can pull on through. Whatever tears at us, whatever holds us down, and if nothing can be done, we'll make the best of what's around."
- Dave Matthew's Band, ‘Best of What’s Around’
"I am responsible. Although I may not be able to prevent the worst from happening, I am responsible for my attitude toward the inevitable misfortunes that darken life. Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself."
- Walter Anderson
"Boundaries don't keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That’s how we’re made. So, you can either waste your life drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them."
- Meredith Grey
- Brian Andreas
"I've learned that good-byes will always hurt, pictures never replace having been there, memories good or bad will bring tears, and words can never replace feelings."
- Unknown
"Imperfection is beauty; madness is genius; and it is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." - Marilyn Monroe
"If the people we love are stolen from us,
The way we have them live on, is to remember them.
Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever."
- ‘The Crow’ (movie)
"Celebrate we will, 'cause life is short but sweet for certain."
- Dave Matthew's Band, ‘Two Step’
"Nothing makes the Earth so spacious as to have friends at a distance."
- Henry David Thoreau
"All of us get lost in the darkness; dreamers learn to steer by the stars."
- Rush, 'The Pass'
"When caught between two evils, I generally like to take the one I've never tried."
- Mae West
"When he shall die take him
And cut him out in little stars
And he will make the face of heav'n so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
"I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints,
Sinners are much more fun."
- Billy Joel, ‘Only the Good Die Young’
"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These people have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep, loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen."
- Elizabeth Kubler Ross
"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."
- Oliver Wendell Holmes
"See you and me have a better time than most can dream of, better than the best, so we can pull on through. Whatever tears at us, whatever holds us down, and if nothing can be done, we'll make the best of what's around."
- Dave Matthew's Band, ‘Best of What’s Around’
"I am responsible. Although I may not be able to prevent the worst from happening, I am responsible for my attitude toward the inevitable misfortunes that darken life. Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself."
- Walter Anderson
"Boundaries don't keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That’s how we’re made. So, you can either waste your life drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them."
- Meredith Grey
Ozymandias
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
- Percy Bysshe Shelley
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
- Percy Bysshe Shelley
When I Came Back
When I came back
from discovering America
unfinished phrases drifted in the wind
samara for commas
and the wind tied my reed flute
into a knot.
My old clothes were returned to me
re-cut in my absence
to fit the image you had of me.
When I put them on
they split at the seams.
- Bogomil Gjuzel
from discovering America
unfinished phrases drifted in the wind
samara for commas
and the wind tied my reed flute
into a knot.
My old clothes were returned to me
re-cut in my absence
to fit the image you had of me.
When I put them on
they split at the seams.
- Bogomil Gjuzel
"The Framers of Our Constitution Meant We Were To Have Freedom of Religion, Not Freedom From Religion" - Billy Graham
The major conflict in Sophocles’ play Antigonê is between the law of the Gods and the law of the government. In history, separation of the church and the state was used in order to prevent conflicts, but it is when the fine line between religion and the government is crossed that disagreements arise. When Antigonê chooses to follow her own beliefs, she is not only being true to herself and to her family, but she is obeying the wishes of the Gods as well. In most situations Antigonê’s actions would be seen as praiseworthy, but instead of being commended for her moral standards, Creon sends Antigonê to her death. So is it ever alright for religion to take precedent over the law of the government? And either way, was Creon wrong in punishing Atigonê the way that he did?
Religion is a touchy subject when it pertains to the law because there are often multiple religions being practiced under one government. People of every religion have different moral standards, rituals, and interpretations of right versus wrong, making it impossible to incorporate all religions into the law. There may be Islamic extremists that believe in the use of suicide bombings as a way to get a point across, whereas under Western law these actions are illegal. So is the excuse that under the beliefs of Islamic extremism suicide bombings are accepted a valid reason for a terrorist not to be persecuted in the West? No, because the event would cause the destruction of property as well as the possible death of innocent civilians. This is a situation in which the law rightly overrides religion, because there is a possibility of negative consequences and harm to civilians.
On the other hand, there are many situations in which religion and the law should stay completely separate. For example, under the beliefs of the Jewish religion, persons with tattoos or piercings are not to be buried in Jewish cemeteries. Although under some religions the idea of refusing a burial to the deceased is appalling, it is the right of the Jewish religion to make their own rules and regulations regarding their cemeteries. Although religion should not override the law, governments should refrain from making laws that single out any one religion and have nothing to do with the safety of its civilians.
In the case of Antigonê and Creon, it is hard to say whether either person was completely in the right or the wrong. I believe that Creon was wrong to refuse the burial of Polyneicês in the first place, traitor or not. Not only was Polyneicês once royalty, but it is the wish of the Gods that all civilians have a proper burial. The law that Creon made also singled out an individual situation, without thinking of the consequences or the extenuating circumstances, which I believe that no law should do. At the same time, as a citizen of Thebes, it is Antigonê’s duty to obey the laws and to respect the wishes of Creon as King. Although I do not believe that Antigonê deserved the harsh punishment that she received, I believe that Creon had the right to make an example out of her for not abiding by the law. So in conclusion, it is important that the division between the laws of the government and the laws of the Gods stay clearly defined, in order to prevent misunderstandings or situations in which a person has to choose between betraying their country and betraying oneself.
Religion is a touchy subject when it pertains to the law because there are often multiple religions being practiced under one government. People of every religion have different moral standards, rituals, and interpretations of right versus wrong, making it impossible to incorporate all religions into the law. There may be Islamic extremists that believe in the use of suicide bombings as a way to get a point across, whereas under Western law these actions are illegal. So is the excuse that under the beliefs of Islamic extremism suicide bombings are accepted a valid reason for a terrorist not to be persecuted in the West? No, because the event would cause the destruction of property as well as the possible death of innocent civilians. This is a situation in which the law rightly overrides religion, because there is a possibility of negative consequences and harm to civilians.
On the other hand, there are many situations in which religion and the law should stay completely separate. For example, under the beliefs of the Jewish religion, persons with tattoos or piercings are not to be buried in Jewish cemeteries. Although under some religions the idea of refusing a burial to the deceased is appalling, it is the right of the Jewish religion to make their own rules and regulations regarding their cemeteries. Although religion should not override the law, governments should refrain from making laws that single out any one religion and have nothing to do with the safety of its civilians.
In the case of Antigonê and Creon, it is hard to say whether either person was completely in the right or the wrong. I believe that Creon was wrong to refuse the burial of Polyneicês in the first place, traitor or not. Not only was Polyneicês once royalty, but it is the wish of the Gods that all civilians have a proper burial. The law that Creon made also singled out an individual situation, without thinking of the consequences or the extenuating circumstances, which I believe that no law should do. At the same time, as a citizen of Thebes, it is Antigonê’s duty to obey the laws and to respect the wishes of Creon as King. Although I do not believe that Antigonê deserved the harsh punishment that she received, I believe that Creon had the right to make an example out of her for not abiding by the law. So in conclusion, it is important that the division between the laws of the government and the laws of the Gods stay clearly defined, in order to prevent misunderstandings or situations in which a person has to choose between betraying their country and betraying oneself.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Everyone's Got a Sob Story and the Sigh is Always the Same.
I am a crier. I don’t hide it, or shall I say, I can’t hide it, because frankly, I cry all the time. I cry during the previews for episodes of Extreme Makeover Home Edition, I cry when I read the Pet Place section of the classifieds, I cry when I see an elderly couple holding hands, I cry about nothing at all and everything at the same time. While reading “The Metamorphosis” the other night, I found myself sitting in a plush chair at Starbucks with tears rolling down my cheeks, wondering why on Earth I was crying. Not only was this embarrassing in itself, it didn’t help that the man sitting across from me, another ‘regular’ at this particular Starbucks, felt the need to butt in and inquire about what was wrong. So there I was trying to explain to Brian, the pharmacist, that I was reading a story for school about a man who morphs into a bug, and that I had begun to cry because the bug spent four hours covering himself with a sheet so that his sister didn’t have to see him when she came in to bring him his food. This explanation was followed with a smile and a nod, and then Brian went back to work. But that is beside the point. After this humiliating episode, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was that triggered my tears.
Franz Kafka’s story, although peculiar and seemingly trivial, holds some very deep ideas. Gregor’s character represents something far more profound than just some man morphing into a bug, which seems almost humorous because of how far-fetched it is. Gregor’s metamorphosis represents his escape from the expectations of his family. For numerous years, Gregor was the money maker in the family. He worked hard at a job that he didn’t enjoy, just so that he could provide money for a family that didn’t even appreciate his hard work. Soon after Gregor wakes up to find himself as a bug, his family realizes that in order to keep their comfortable lifestyle without Gregor working, they have to take responsibility, lifting the burden off of Gregor. The story upsets me because instead of realizing how important Gregor’s contribution was to the family, instead they are disappointed in their loss of disposable income and annoyed by the fact that they have to work. It shows how greed can take the place of family values, and it is just one example of how families do not appreciate what it means to have each other around and have no understanding of the enormous contributions that each individual makes to each other's happiness.
So why did Gregor cover himself with a sheet, disrespecting himself, in order to save his sister the humiliation and disgust of seeing him as a bug? I can not be sure exactly, but I do know that Gregor’s family made him feel as though it was his responsibility to make them all happy. So when Grete was upset by the sight of Gregor, he took it upon himself to make sure that she would not have to be upset on his account in the future. I only wish that Gregor’s family would have taken the time to realize that the reason Gregor’s metamorphosis affected them as much as it did was not because they lost his income, but because they lost a caring son and brother, who was a vital part of the family and a fantastic role model.
Franz Kafka’s story, although peculiar and seemingly trivial, holds some very deep ideas. Gregor’s character represents something far more profound than just some man morphing into a bug, which seems almost humorous because of how far-fetched it is. Gregor’s metamorphosis represents his escape from the expectations of his family. For numerous years, Gregor was the money maker in the family. He worked hard at a job that he didn’t enjoy, just so that he could provide money for a family that didn’t even appreciate his hard work. Soon after Gregor wakes up to find himself as a bug, his family realizes that in order to keep their comfortable lifestyle without Gregor working, they have to take responsibility, lifting the burden off of Gregor. The story upsets me because instead of realizing how important Gregor’s contribution was to the family, instead they are disappointed in their loss of disposable income and annoyed by the fact that they have to work. It shows how greed can take the place of family values, and it is just one example of how families do not appreciate what it means to have each other around and have no understanding of the enormous contributions that each individual makes to each other's happiness.
So why did Gregor cover himself with a sheet, disrespecting himself, in order to save his sister the humiliation and disgust of seeing him as a bug? I can not be sure exactly, but I do know that Gregor’s family made him feel as though it was his responsibility to make them all happy. So when Grete was upset by the sight of Gregor, he took it upon himself to make sure that she would not have to be upset on his account in the future. I only wish that Gregor’s family would have taken the time to realize that the reason Gregor’s metamorphosis affected them as much as it did was not because they lost his income, but because they lost a caring son and brother, who was a vital part of the family and a fantastic role model.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Sometimes the Snow Comes Down in June
If Ivan Ilych were a real person, I would not be his friend. Actually, I doubt anyone would be his friend. Although both superficial and self-serving, those are not the only characteristics that make Ivan Ilych a disagreeable man. He lives his life by others’ definition of what is right. He also does not care about his family or his children and the only things he seems to put any thought or effort into are things that he thinks will impress others. Ivan follows by the rules of the game and does not listen to his own morals, that is if he knows what those morals are. By the end of his life, he has completely lost the sense of who he truly is, and what it is to be happy. He leaves the earth regretful and friendless.
Joseph Addison, an English poet and essayist once said, “True happiness arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one’s self, and in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions.” Reading that quote got me to think about what Ivan Ilych thought about himself before his sickness, since the author didn’t allow us to see many of his self-criticisms. It is obvious by the end of the story that Ivan came to a realization about his empty life, but why did it take him until his lingering death to do so? He made himself believe that he was happy by focusing on material things, yet did not realize that those things do not bring happiness or life fulfillment.
Throughout his young life, Ivan did things merely because they were the social norm. He got married to a decent wife, had an ordinary family, and held a relatively high status position for a job with a mediocre salary. He bought a pretty large house, furnished it with the usual fittings and decorated it with the expected adornment. All of these things that were meant to make him (and the rest of the ‘aristocracy’) superior just made him even more average. And not only was he average, but he was lonely. By the end of the story, was easy to see that Ivan Ilych had never really loved or been loved. He married because it was the right thing to do, he had kids because it was the right thing to do, he didn’t have a sincere friend, and his work always came first. I blame this on Ivan, because in order to surround yourself with genuine people, you must be one yourself, and Ivan Ilych was not.
When first reading the story, looking down upon Ivan Ilych’s funeral, it is easy to pity him. But a man like Ivan does not deserve pity. He ran away from his problems, he convinced himself of his happiness, and faked his friendships. He was selfish, always looking out for himself, and he never worried about anything but the way that he was portrayed in the public. If Ivan would have taken a step back at one point during his life, and reflected as he did right before his death, he may have realized how pitiful his life was. Maybe in his next life he will do things differently.
Joseph Addison, an English poet and essayist once said, “True happiness arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one’s self, and in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions.” Reading that quote got me to think about what Ivan Ilych thought about himself before his sickness, since the author didn’t allow us to see many of his self-criticisms. It is obvious by the end of the story that Ivan came to a realization about his empty life, but why did it take him until his lingering death to do so? He made himself believe that he was happy by focusing on material things, yet did not realize that those things do not bring happiness or life fulfillment.
Throughout his young life, Ivan did things merely because they were the social norm. He got married to a decent wife, had an ordinary family, and held a relatively high status position for a job with a mediocre salary. He bought a pretty large house, furnished it with the usual fittings and decorated it with the expected adornment. All of these things that were meant to make him (and the rest of the ‘aristocracy’) superior just made him even more average. And not only was he average, but he was lonely. By the end of the story, was easy to see that Ivan Ilych had never really loved or been loved. He married because it was the right thing to do, he had kids because it was the right thing to do, he didn’t have a sincere friend, and his work always came first. I blame this on Ivan, because in order to surround yourself with genuine people, you must be one yourself, and Ivan Ilych was not.
When first reading the story, looking down upon Ivan Ilych’s funeral, it is easy to pity him. But a man like Ivan does not deserve pity. He ran away from his problems, he convinced himself of his happiness, and faked his friendships. He was selfish, always looking out for himself, and he never worried about anything but the way that he was portrayed in the public. If Ivan would have taken a step back at one point during his life, and reflected as he did right before his death, he may have realized how pitiful his life was. Maybe in his next life he will do things differently.
Thoughts of a Slightly Confused Potential Convert
I'd like to be a Catholic,
To sail the Holy Sea.
To learn about the Cannon Laws
Like "Don't aim that thing at me".
I'll help around the chapel.
I know I can be trained,
To clean the glass that's dirty.
You know, you call it stained.
I've soldiered for this country
And guarded foreign borders
So I've no problem with a priest
Barking Holy Orders.
No, I'm no fan of gluttony.
While fasting I'll stand firm.
But there's no way you'll see me
Go on a Diet of Worms!
And when it comes to Martyrs Paste
I really don't know whether
It's used to brush the martyr's teeth
Or put martyrs back together.
I have just one more question
For which I'm at a loss
Please can someone tell me
How much a Penta costs.
- Tim Canny
To sail the Holy Sea.
To learn about the Cannon Laws
Like "Don't aim that thing at me".
I'll help around the chapel.
I know I can be trained,
To clean the glass that's dirty.
You know, you call it stained.
I've soldiered for this country
And guarded foreign borders
So I've no problem with a priest
Barking Holy Orders.
No, I'm no fan of gluttony.
While fasting I'll stand firm.
But there's no way you'll see me
Go on a Diet of Worms!
And when it comes to Martyrs Paste
I really don't know whether
It's used to brush the martyr's teeth
Or put martyrs back together.
I have just one more question
For which I'm at a loss
Please can someone tell me
How much a Penta costs.
- Tim Canny
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