I Wish To Live Deliberately

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, to discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and to be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.

Walden or Life in the Woods

- Henry David Thoreau (1817 – 1862)

We Always Want What We Can't Have

What is it about the unknown that makes it so desirable? As human beings, wanting what we can’t have is quintessential to our nature. In Love in the Time of Cholera, Florentino Ariza’s heart and soul burn for Fermina Daza, the one woman he is unable to make love to. I have often heard people say that they enjoy the chase rather than the actual catch itself. For this very reason, I believe that Florentino’s love for Fermina Daza was sparked by curiosity, and further elevated by her mysterious nature and unresponsiveness.

Despite the fact that he is irresistible to women, Florentino Ariza does not succumb to their calls because he is undeniably a hopeless romantic. Even though he is “the most sought-after young man in his social circle” (54), he insists on pursing a woman who has no desire for his acquaintance. All the women that call on him in the Transient Hotel mean nothing to him because they are much too available. “But Florentino Ariza did not accept: he was a virgin, and he had decided not to lose his virginity unless it was for love” (63). Florentino is attracted to Fermina because she is not instantly attracted to his charm. Although Fermina’s first meeting with Florentino is terse, he manages to run away like a love-struck puppy. When he first lays eyes upon her, her only reaction is a “casual glance” (55). From that moment onwards, Florentino Ariza dives head over heels into the abyss of “devastating love” (68).


Even at the age of fragile age of seventy-six, Florentino Ariza is still infatuated by Fermina Daza’s cold, distant nature. Her reaction to his vow of everlasting love and fidelity immediately after her husband’s death, her bitter words and the length at which it takes her to respond to his daily love letters, and her impersonal demeanor only cause Florentino to fall even more madly in love with her. Florentino continues to write letters to Fermina, despite receiving no response, because although he knows she is capable of ignoring them, he will not allow her inaccessible nature to deter him from achieving his life goal. Instead of being turned off by her stand-offish behavior, he is attracted to it. He knows that no other woman can be as disconnected as Fermina, “he did not believe that the woman who could resist her curiosity about half a year of almost daily letters when she did not even know the color of ink they were written in, but if such a woman existed, it had to be her” (296).


Throughout the course of the novel, Florentino Ariza and Fermina Daza continue to run into each other. Each time they meet, she greets him casually, making sure not to speak. In contrast to Fermina Daza, Leona Cassiani shows Florentino utmost affection. For this very reason, his relationship with Leona consisted of “a love that had been extinguished before it was born” (257). Ultimately, Florentino’s desire for love and to be loved allows him to continue the never-ending pursuit of Fermina Daza. In the end, his undying determination to woo Fermina Daza does not fail him (524).

Young Love

Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera is a story in which the reader quickly takes the side of the underdog, Florentino Ariza, whose devastating love (68) for Fermina Daza comes to overshadow every aspect of his life. In sharp contrast with the womanizer Dr. Juvenal Urbino, Florentino Ariza is, "very thin, with Indian hair plastered down with scented pomade and eyeglasses for myopia, which added to his forlorn appearance" (54). As the novel progresses, the reader sees that the love Florentino has for Fermina Daza cannot compare to that of Dr. Urbino. However, when Fermina claims that her love for Florentino was, "nothing more than an illusion" (102), the reader's heart breaks with Florentino's. Despite Florentino's everlasting love, he doesn't seem to be good enough for Fermina. However, Fermina's character is a bit more complex than it seems. When her mother dies when Fermina is only a young child, she is prematurely forced into adulthood. She learns that being dependent on someone can only lead to disappointment, thus making it impossible to put complete faith in a man she only knows to be a telegraph operator and a violinist. When her Aunt Escolastica is forced to leave her, she once again experiences feelings of solitude. Only after this loss does she realize that, "one could be happy not only without love, but despite it" (87).

Fermina has trained herself to be a distant person. According to Hildebranda, Fermina’s cousin, Fermina was an “old maid of twenty” and “devoted to killing time” (129-130). Fermina attempts to occupy her mind doing menial chores in order to fill the gap of loneliness in her life. Similarly, she used Florentino as an outlet for her isolation. However, unknowingly, her curiosity turned into feelings of love. “These unexpected, almost childish antics caused an unfamiliar curiosity in Fermina Daza, but for several months it did not occur to her that it could go any further” (58). Once she sees that she is being dependent on another individual, Fermina becomes scared.

The relationship between Fermina Daza and her father is also key to understanding Fermina’s character. The death of Fermina’s mother causes Lorenzo Daza to change his state of mind. His goal was to, “turn his daughter into a great lady” (81). Lorenzo Daza’s desire to protect Fermina also leads to his increased strictness. He has an idealized vision for his daughter. With his expectations set so high, Fermina simply cannot afford to be second best. Once Florentino Ariza appears in the picture, Lorenzo Daza must do all that he can to protect his daughter from the potential distraction.

The many people that come in and out of Fermina Daza’s life greatly shape her character. She becomes self-sufficient, distant, and even at times, unsympathetic. She attempts to disguise her love for Florentino to hide her weakness, leading her to deal with that mistake for the next fifty years of her life. Her father’s desire for perfection weakens her morale, and even transforms her into a machine. Fermina's disposition becomes so cold that Florentino's vow of "perfect fidelity and his everlasting love" (61) is not quite enough (522).

Neglected

Last week, I wrote a blog on my favorite character from William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury. However, after reading the Jason section, I’m not sure if I agree with last week’s entry. Now I’m not saying that Jason is a likeable character, I just think that his actions are sometimes misunderstood. His bitterness towards his family is a result of being neglected during childhood, his feelings of superiority are intensified by the fact that he is the only male figure left, and his supercilious comments are a result of the sacrifices he was forced to make to support his mother.

Although his mother did like him more than her other children, she compliments him out of guilt. Jason was never able to build a career of his own choosing, and to this day it bothers him. He says things such as, “I says no I never had university advantages because at Harvard they teach you how to go for a swim at night without knowing how to swim…” (196). Perhaps it was not Jason’s dream to go to Harvard, but that doesn’t mean that he is still not upset that he never had the opportunity. Jason even mentions that he himself had to give away some things in order to send Quentin and that, “At least I never heard of him offering to sell anything to send me to Harvard” (197).

Quentin was the smart, troubled child. He always studied, went to Harvard, and took his own life when it became unbearable. Caddy was promiscuous. She had multiple affairs, shamed the family, and was thrown out by her husband. Benjy was the baby. And finally, Jason is the vindictive, isolated child. There isn’t much to say about Jason, because we don’t learn anything about his character until his section. Now that he is the only child left (with the exception of Benjy), Jason has a responsibility to his mother. Jason, very aware that this family depends on his income, soaks in all the compliments his mother gives him. She is always saying things like, “You are my only hope…Every night I thank God for you” (200). After hearing praises about the other children for so many years, Jason enjoys being in the spotlight. Because of the way he was neglected by his father in the past, he believes he is justified to act any way he desires in the present.

Jason’s character is hard to understand because we are not sure whether his controlling behavior is situational or if he simply likes taking advantage of others. The latter is more evident when Caddy comes to him at their father’s funeral, begging to see her daughter. The conversation between Caddy and Jason shows Jason’s constant need to overpower people:
“Jason,” she says, looking at the grave, “if you fix it so I can see her a minute I’ll give you fifty dollars.”
“You haven’t got fifty dollars,” I says.
“Will you?” she says, not looking at me.
“Let’s see it,” I says. “I dont believe you’ve got fifty dollars” (203).
Jason behaves similarly when he receives two free tickets to the show Luster desperately wants to go to. Luster begs him for one, but because he has no money to pay for the ticket, Jason burns it before his eyes.

Jason is not a kind character. He seems to have no love for others, he takes advantage of those that do love him, and he is constantly dwelling upon the past. However, there is much more to him than his cold exterior. Behind his rude remarks and indifference for others lies a lonely, depressed person (606).

A Sister's Love

William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury may be the most confusing novel I have ever read. Its lack of transitions, missing punctuations, and fluctuations between the present and the past all have a way of frustrating me. Yet, I cannot seem to stay away. Faulkner’s intertwining of memories into current situations draws the reader in. Though the way the novel is written seems to be of most interest, I find the characters equally intriguing. Caddy, the loving sister, is constantly suffering moral dilemmas. Quentin, the confused older brother, is desperately in love with his sister. And my favorite, Benjy, the baby of the family, whose actions speak louder than his words. Benjy is the most interesting character in the novel because he is the most difficult to understand. Because he cannot speak for himself, he must rely on his family to understand his needs. All of Benjy’s memories, whether good or bad, are centered around Caddy because she cares for him despite his inability to verbalize his thoughts.

Benjy’s desire for Caddy’s attention is not because he is a needy person; rather, it is due to his undying concern of losing her love. Usually, when he cries, he does it because he knows it will attract her attention. Benjy’s sadness is justified—Caddy is the only person who treats him with respect. Luster is always telling him to, “ shut up that moaning and slobbering” (9). In contrast, Caddy tries to figure out why Benjy is crying instead of trying to shut him up, “‘Why, Benjy.’ She said. ‘You musn’t cry. Caddy’s not going away” (42).

Benjy’s deep love for Caddy often reminds him of times when he felt that her attention from him was slipping away; however, he is unable to come to terms with her need to live her own life. Their relationship ultimately drifts when Caddy reaches a stage in her life when she realizes that she has other obligations. The reader first sees evidence of their drifting relationship when Caddy is kissing Charlie. Though she promises Benjy that she, “wont anymore, ever. Benjy” (48), it is a promise that she cannot keep. Caddy ultimately ends up leaving Benjy to get married. Even though she has gone off and married, Benjy is incapable of comprehending such a thing. He continues to go to the gate and wait for Caddy to come home from school. When she has done something wrong, he can always sense it. According to Roskus, “‘He know lot more than folks thinks’” (31). For example, the night that Caddy loses her virginity, Benjy is determined to have her undo her action, “She opened the door to her room, but I pulled at her dress and we went to the bathroom and she stood against the door, looking at me. Then she put her arm across her face and I pushed at her, crying” (69).

Caddy’s love leaves an undying impression on Benjy. Even when he is thirty-three years old, his mind is still full of thoughts of her. He is still brought to tears when he hears her name, and he still thinks that she will one day return to him (529).

The Progression of an Instable Mind

Set in St. Petersburg, Russia, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky is a novel that traces the psyche of one man, Raskolnikov. Whether it is before of after Raskolnikov commits two heinous murders, the reader can already identify that there is something seriously wrong with him. Whenever he does a kind deed, he regrets it as though getting involved were none of his business, “As he went out Raskolnikov had time to put his hand into his pocket, to snatch up the coppers he had received in exchange for his rouble in the tavern and to lay them unnoticed on the window. Afterwards on the stairs he changed his mind and would have gone back. ‘What a stupid thing I’ve done,’ he thought to himself, ‘they have Sonia and I want it myself’” (Dostoevsky 28). Dostoevksy’s use of first person narrator allows the reader to delve into Raskolnikov’s deepest thoughts, which are essential to understanding his actions throughout the novel.

The reader can first identify that Raskolnikov is not a stable man when we see that he speaks to himself more than he speaks to others. He simply has no interest in interaction. However, when he does engage in conversation, he feels, “habitual irritabil[ity] and uneasy aversion” (Dostoevsky 14). He is uncomfortable in most—if not all—social situations, thus allowing all his problems to build up. Although he starts off as a problem-ridden individual, the reader can see his progression from bad to worse.

He begins by feeling guilty that he has even had such horrible thoughts of murder, “‘Oh, God, how loathsome it all is! and can I, can I possibly. . . .No, it’s nonsense, it’s rubbish!” (Dostoevsky 11). However, as time passes and his hate for Alyona Ivanovna intensifies, his reaches a point when his thought process tells him that her murder would be completely justifiable. Raskolnikov’s absurdity further justifies the murder when it has all been set out in front of him. Superstition leads Raskolnikov to believe that because Alyona’s sister Lizaveta Ivanovna will be out of the house, it is a “suitable opportunity” (Dostoevsky 60). But the thing that really sets him off is the conversation between a young man and an officer in the tavern one night. The young man says Alyona is, “‘as rich as a Jew’” (Dostoevsky 62), and “‘a stupid, senseless, worthless, spiteful, ailing, horrid old woman, not simply useless but doing actual mischief”” (Dostoevsky 63). After hearing these horrible things about Alyona’s nature, the officer comes to the conclusion that, “‘she does not deserve to live’” (Dostoevsky 63). According to Raskolnikov, the conversation in the tavern and Alyona’s being alone both serve as indicators that his job is indeed to do away with the wretched woman before his opportunity expires.

Although his plan did not include the murder of Lizaveta, her intrusion causes Raskolnikov to behave irrationally. After he has killed both women, he is unable to forget what he has done. He is constantly paranoid that there are still traces of their blood left on his clothes. Raskolnikov, unlike a normal individual, does not feel regret; rather, he feels afraid that someone will discover his secret. As the novel progresses, the reader is able to further identify Raskolnikov’s oddities that make him the twisted individual that he is (550).

Behind the Screen Door

“Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” is a story heavily embedded with symbolism. Upon reading Joyce Carol Oates’s short story, I was a bit frightened. It bothered me that fifteen-year old Connie was so careless with her life. Furthermore, I realized how easy it is for vulnerable teenagers to be wooed. After contemplation, it occurred to me that although the story is a bit scary, there are far more underlying messages besides the simple theme of distrust.

Connie is young, naïve, and insecure. She, unlike her older sister, is neglected by her family. Thus, she soon begins to rely in finding happiness elsewhere—in her good looks and in boys. For Connie, boys represent something she is lacking: love from her family. However, Oates makes it clear that Connie does not find adequate relief in boys, “But all the boys fell back and dissolved into a single face that was not even a face, but an idea, a feeling mixed up with the urgent insistent pounding of the music and the humid night air of July” (10).

Similarly, music serves as another outlet for her. After Connie decides not to go to the barbecue with her family, she “went inside the house and turned on the radio to drown out the quiet. She sat on the edge of her bed, barefoot, and listened for an hour and a half to a program…” (14). Music is something that seems to settle her always. During her date with Eddie, Connie seems to find satisfaction in something: “her face gleaming with a joy that had nothing to do with Eddie or even this place, it might have been the music” (8). Unlike boys, music is something that will never fail her—that is perhaps why she puts so much faith into it.

During her family’s time at the barbecue, she encounters the sketchy Arnold Friend. After flirting with him for a bit, she realizes he is the same boy that told her he was “gonna get her” (8) when she was on her date with Eddie. To Connie, Arnold almost seems fictional. He comes from a completely different world, and he is determined to make Connie part of it. She soon becomes scared and realizes the peril she is in. The fact that her family does not come home represents their disregard for her. They are unaware of her life, thus allowing her to be swept away forever. When Arnold is convincing her to come with him, he says, “But why lock it…It’s just a screen door. It’s nothing”(18). The screen door represents the barrier between her current life and the life she could potentially lead with Arnold. She realizes that there has always simply been “a screen door” stopping her from starting a new life. In a sense, her family has pushed her in Arnold’s direction. When she ultimately makes the decision to leave with him, she is at the point where there is no other option. Connie’s departure with Arnold does not simply show that she is going off with another boy. Her opening of the screen door represents leaving her old life behind for somewhere she belongs. Her family’s ignorance leads her to make this decision where she will lead a life “out in the country here where it smells so nice and it’s sunny” (154). (558)

I Spy a Woman

In Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper,” the narrator finds herself in a sort of obsessive paranoia over the pattern on the walls of her summer house. The narrator, plagued by a “nervous depression—a slight hysterical tendency” (9), is unable to understand the reality of her situation. She believes that the pattern on the walls is solely for her purpose, and she dedicates her days to interpreting it. While I was reading the story, I began to draw parallels. The narrator’s obsession with the wall is similar to her obsession with her sickness—she is constantly affected by both.

I believe that part of the reason the narrator is so intrigued by the moldy wallpaper is that when she sees it, she sees part of herself. The wallpaper “has a kind of subpattern in a different shade, a particularly irritating one, for you can only see it in certain lights, and not clearly then” (76). This “subpattern” is similar to her personality. John, her overbearing husband, does not seem to understand what his wife is going though. He simply suggests that she rests and remains useless. But of course, any somewhat sane person is not capable of “resting” all day. So she takes to a new hobby—interpreting what is on the wall.

Because she feels so misunderstood, the narrator turns to something that can not judge her. Her ideas of what the wallpaper is saying can never be wrong. Furthermore, the wallpaper will never let her down because no matter what, it is always there. The narrator’s loneliness and sense of being misunderstood is remedied by her faithful yellow wallpaper.

Another parallel between the mesmerizing wall and the narrator’s anxiety is that she is frustrated by both, yet she cannot seem to forget either. She makes it clear that she is becoming exceedingly interested in the pattern when she says, “On a pattern like this, by daylight, there is a lack of sequence, a defiance of law, that is a constant irritant to the normal mind. The color is hideous enough, and unreliable enough, and infuriating enough, but the pattern is tormenting” (141-2). This “tormenting” pattern is similar to her disease. She continually blames her oddities on the fact that she is “sick” (8). No matter how hard she may try, both her disease and the wallpaper will continue to haunt her.

The narrator’s interest in the wall is far deeper than anyone else’s interest because she alone engages in the practice of solving its mysteries. When her husband and her husband’s sister observe the wall, she is a bit angry, “I have watched John when he did not know I was looking, and come into the room suddenly on the most innocent excuses, and I’ve caught him several times looking at the paper!”(159). The narrator feels a special bond with the wallpaper because she alone has studied it in such depth. She is the only one that can see the woman behind the pattern, thus making her the only person so deeply affected by the wallpaper’s ordinary features. She even deems herself most knowledgeable of its secrets, “There are things in the wallpaper that nobody knows about but me, or ever will” (118).

The narrator’s initial bewilderment and frustration towards the wallpaper takes a dramatic turn as time goes on. After having stared at the wallpaper for many an hour, she gains a comfort from it. She even keeps her obsession a secret from John, “John is so pleased to see me improve! He laughed a little the other day, and said I seemed to be flourishing in spit of my wallpaper. I turned it off with a laugh. I had no intention of telling him it was because of the wallpaper”(164-5).
The narrator’s final destruction of the yellow wallpaper occurs when she sees the woman “creeping up and down” (196). She can no longer handle the consistently haunting wallpaper, so in attempts to protect herself from the scary woman, she rips apart the walls. The narrator’s destruction of the walls is in essence her break way from her obsession and her disease. She is finally able to look at both things no longer as constraints, but as passages to freedom (704).

The Shortcomings of a Good Disposition

After reading “Revelation” by Flannery O’Connor, I felt slightly sick. It is one of few stories in which I felt no attachment to any character. The story also has an incomplete ending, leaving the reader to decide whether Mrs. Turpin truly experiences a “revelation” or not. Although the story is full of vivid details and interesting descriptions, the part of the story that affected me most was the author’s candor regarding Mrs. Turpin’s thoughts.

Mrs. Turpin, being the phony that she is, always speaks in a patronizing manner. The way she analyzes people and makes judgments is a reflection of her insecurities. When she says, “I wish I could reduce” (14), it is a clear indication that she is not comfortable with the way she looks. She then says that though she wishes she could lose weight, the most important thing is to have a “good disposition” (17). If she indeed believes having a “good disposition” is of utmost importance, why is it that she has such hideous thoughts?

The fact of the matter is that Mrs. Turpin simply thinks she is better than everyone else. She repeatedly thinks that if Jesus were to offer her someone else’s place, she would not take it. She even says that, “If it’s one thing I am… it’s grateful” (101). Because she is friendly and open to all conversation, Mrs. Turpin believes herself to be the most agreeable person alive. One of the things that bothered me most about Mrs. Turpin is that while she is carrying on conversation with all the people in the waiting room, she is analyzing their flaws and expressing her thankfulness for not having been bestowed with those deficiencies.

Not only is Mrs. Turpin condescending to the people in the waiting room, she also acts the same way around people she is familiar with. Right when the story starts, we see that Mrs. Turpin has a dominating disposition when she shoves her husband into the doctor’s office, “Claud was florid and bald and sturdy, somewhat shorter than Mrs. Turpin, but he sat down as if he were accustomed to doing what she told him to” (2). She acts the same way towards her black servants. Though they are kind to her and want to defend her in any way possible, she is annoyed by them. Because she believes their words to be “Negro flattery” (163), she becomes frustrated by their lack of honesty. If Mrs. Turpin is so peeved by fake appraisal, then why does she indulge in the act ever so frequently?

As the story goes on, we see that not only is Mrs. Turpin arrogant, she is also ignorant. She has absolutely no idea why Mary Grace is giving her such hateful looks—and for that matter, why anyone would give her such hateful looks. She is also surprised when Mary Grace says, “Go back to hell where you came from, you old wart hog” (113). Mrs. Turpin is well aware that she had negative thoughts towards the Mary Grace and her “white trash” mother; however, she fails to understand why the girl would be so affected by those thoughts.

Although not directly related to Mrs. Turpin’s inner-most feelings, I found it interesting that Mrs. Turpin was at the farm, alone, trying to sort out her thoughts. She has taken Mary Grace’s message so deep to hear that she is asking for answers as though she expects God to intervene. Early in the story, it is clear what an important role God plays in Mrs. Turpin’s life, “‘Thank you, Jesus, for making everything the way it is!’” (101). She looks at Mary Grace’s message as a warning that her oh-so-perfect disposition is not so perfect after all. Although she does not express remorse for the way she is, Mrs. Turpin’s seriousness regarding the bitter insult shows that she realizes there is something wrong with her. It was somewhat surprising to me that a woman as self-righteous as Mrs. Turpin would respond so intensely to an insult. However, just as the reader realizes the importance of Mary Grace’s statement, Mrs. Turpin as well sees that what happened at the doctor’s office was unordinary.

Mrs. Turpin’s frustration in the end of the story shows her trying to discover her shortcomings, and perhaps even making a change. Though Mrs. Turpin is not a likeable character, she was indeed inspired to do some soul-searching after her experience in the waiting room (741).

Mama's Simple Life

The thing that first caught my attention while reading “Everyday Use,” was the story’s narration by Mama. Through Mama’s eyes, the reader forms distinctions between the life Mama and Maggie lead, versus the life Dee makes for herself. Because “Everyday Use” is told in the first person, all we know about Mama’s two daughters is what she tells us. Directly after reading the short story, I felt a sense of sympathy. However, this feeling of commiseration was not directed towards the narrator or Maggie; rather, I found myself pitying Dee. Dee, the narrator’s self-righteous daughter, looks at her humble roots as something she is completely disconnected from.

The only perspective the reader gets of Dee is that of her mother’s. When Dee arrives, she is described by Mama as having an almost overwhelming appearance. Her bright clothing and gaudy jewelry are things that Mama and Maggie will never be accustomed to (20). The thing that I liked most about the description of Dee is that it is full of subtle messages. Mama never comes out and says exactly how she feels; rather, she simply observes the behavior of her daughter, giving the reader a play-by-play of Dee’s visit.

Although Mama never calls Dee an outsider, she says certain things to inform the reader that Dee—or Wangero as she now prefers—leads a radically different life and displays a sort of arrogance towards her old one. Mama conveys Dee’s embarrassment of her family’s humble abode when she says, “She wrote me once that no matter where we ‘choose’ to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends” (14). It is almost as if every aspect of Dee that is described is loaded with ways to expose her condescending nature.

If indeed Mama makes all these descriptions with her own hidden messages, why does the reader believe her? After all, when telling a story in the first person, it is impossible for the narrator to have no bias whatsoever. But we do not have this problem with Mama. In the beginning of the story, when she is describing her simple small-town life, we develop a sense of trust with Mama. Mama tells it like it is. At first, when the reader is unfamiliar with Mama and her lifestyle, she expresses her far-fetched dream-life. She dreams to be on television, to have a dramatic reunion with her daughter, and to shake the hand of Johnny Carson. But before Mama lets the reader get carried away with this fantasy, she stops herself, “In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. In winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can kill and clean a hog as mercilessly as a man” (5). Mama’s non-idealized description of herself puts the reader in her confidence. Furthermore, after explaining her dream, she even goes as far to say that it is completely implausible.

While I was reading the story, I found myself becoming increasingly affectionate towards Mama’s warm character, regardless of the fact that she does not lead a perfect life. She cares immensely for both of her daughters, and even tries to comply with Dee’s wishes. With the exception of the quilts, Mama agrees to give Dee the other trinkets she picks up while at the house. She even tries to call Dee by her new preferred name, despite the fact that she cannot pronounce it. However, the thing that made me like Mama the most was when she refused to give up Grandma Dee’s quilts. Whether it was because Mama thought Dee would have no true appreciation for the quilts, or because she simply did not want to part with them, her action was brave. For once, the submissive Maggie was able to have her way.

The story ends with Dee, once again, leaving her old life behind. She even tells her mother that she and Maggie, too, can create new identities for themselves, “‘You ought to try to make something of yourself, too, Maggie. It’s really a new day for us. But the way you and Mama still live you’d never know it” (80). Instead of being hurt by Dee’s statement, Mama and Maggie disregard what she has said, and they enjoy every moment they spend with each other (722).

The Power of a Name

Upon reading The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, I became exceedingly attached to the main character, Gogol. Whether it is because we share the same background, or because he simply seems realistic to me, I cannot help but empathize with him throughout the novel. Through the course of the novel, the reader sees Gogol develop from initially despising the sound of his name, to eventually being able to accept his identity. His transformation, though slow, is a true representation of human character.

I particularly admire Gogol because of his flaws. He looks down upon his heritage, and chooses to dissasociate himself with every aspect of his culture. He is unable to realize the importance of family until he has undergone severe tragedies. Before he knows the significance of his name, he blames his parents and disregards their efforts at compliasance. Lahiri made him a very realistic individual because he does not undergo a drastic change in attitude overnight. His new perspective is sparked by his father’s explanation of giving him a seemingly peculiar name.

When Gogol is young, he is told that his “namesake” was selected on the basis that his father’s favorite author was the Russian, Nikolai Gogol. One day, when Gogol is finally old enough, his father, Ashoke, recounts the train accident that nearly took his life. Although the accident was a traumatic experience, it opened his eyes to how short life is. Books saved Ashoke’s life during his time of recovery. After hearing about his father’s experience, Gogol looks at him as though he is a stranger.

“And suddenly the sound of his pet name, uttered by his father as he has been accustomed to hearing it all his life, means something completeley new, bound up with a catastrophe he has unwittingly embodied for years” (Lahiri 124).

But Gogol’s change is not that simple. The fact that his change was an ongoing process enables the readers to indentify with him. He continues his ways of smoking, neglecting his family, and sleeping with various girls (all of which are completely “American”). His shift in attitude finally becomes evident when his father suffers a sudden heartattack. Ashoke’s death takes great effect on all the family. Not only must his strong-willed mother, Ashima, learn to live alone, he must also live with the fact that he never gave his father a fair chance. After years of neglecting him, and hating him for giving him such a ludicrous name, Gogol is finally appreciative of everything his father did for him. He begins to feel closer to his father than he ever did while he was alive. Gogol’s guilt was insightfully expressed by Lahiri because she captured the essence of human nature. Many a time, we are unable to grasp the importance of something until it is gone. Ashoke’s death was like a slap in the face.

The third major step to finally becoming secure with his identity is his marraige with Moushumi. Moushumi, a Bengali girl his mother has selected, seems to be everything he could possibly want in a wife. When Gogol discovers that his marraige has been based on a lie—she repetitively cheats on him—he realizes that he has no one. There is no one left for him to focus his attention on, no one to distract him from his family. He finally realizes what he must do. He picks up the novel his father gave him. Instead of feeling sad, he feels free. In the last few pages of the book, Lahiri makes many powerful statements, “There were things for which it was impossible to prepare but which one spent a lifetime looking back at, trying to accept, interpret, comprehend. Things that should have never happened, that seemed out of place and wrong, these were what prevailed, what endured, in the end” (Lahiri 287). (637).

Writing>Reading. Enough Said.

Dear Mr. Coon,

I love this kind of writing assignment because it allows you to express yourself in an informal yet aesthetic manner. I have always been particularly fond of writing. The reason for my passion for writing is that there is no right or wrong way to express your opinions. It gives me confidence that I can fully convey my ideas while writing, and that no one will judge it. I am a writer more than a reader. I must admit, that of all the homework I had tonight, this was the most fun part (seriously). I always look forward to writing short papers, especially when they are personal. Writing is also useful for many things: I have written to release my anger, gather my thoughts, and to express feelings of love. One of my favorite things is to write letters. This past summer, I fell in love. Even though this boy lives thousands of miles away, we are able to stay in touch by means of writing. Although people often say that speaking on the phone is more personal than writing, I beg to differ. I prefer to read long letters from him not only because I am able to store them as memories, but also because they convey more meaning.

My weaknesses are as follows: I tend to ramble on while writing. I find myself writing much too much and sometimes even things that are unnecessary. However, it can also be looked at as a strength. Luckily, I am never at a loss for words. I have rarely been in a situation where I simply can’t think of anything to say. Whether this is because I am a talkative person, or simply because I am passionate for words, I continue to run into this issue.

When I was young, I began reading at an early age and quickly developed an attachment to books. My favorites were of course those of Dr. Suess, but the books I can remember most avidly were the Ramona Quimby series by Beverly Cleary. My favorite part about these books (and books in general) was being able to leave reality for a bit. Books allow you to step into someone else’s life. As I grew older I continued to read; however, as school got more stressful, I began to focus my attention predominantly on schoolwork. I am even guilty of sometimes having put books back on shelves because they took too long to get interesting. I regret not reading as much as I would like to, but one of my goals this year is to integrate books back in my life. I have not completely given up though. I have read all of the Harry Potter books multiple times—I even went to a spectacular midnight party to buy the seventh book. Aside from that, I also like reading novels in which I am able to analyze the characters. Although some may call Pride and Prejudice “dense,” (sorry!) I enjoyed reading it. At times it was hard to understand, but I felt accomplished after having learned so many new words.

I hope this blog entry has given you an interesting perspective of me.

Sincerely,

Manasi (532)