From a purely technical perspective, there is little about Beah’s text, A Long Way Gone that is remarkable. At times his writing is lacking in what I have come to take for granted in literature – his prose is not “beautiful,” and the focus on some details seems unbalanced or irrelevant. However, I have found in life that it is a huge mistake to view anything from one perspective – especially one that is so… technical. Beah’s text is powerful, moving, and beautiful while horrifically ugly at the same time – and not for any outstanding gift of poetics.
I am glad to know that A Long Way Gone has received the attention and credit that it has. Though I am sure that there will be plenty of critics that focus on the writing rather than what is being told to them, it does not change the fact that Beah relates an absolutely remarkable experience. It is difficult for me to imagine, with my lack of any similar experience, the horror and trauma that is felt by countless people across the world that are affected by civil wars, genocide, slavery (in its various forms), and loss of home/family. The closest that I am able to come to understand this is through texts like Beah’s. When reading this text, a reader has no choice but come face to face with the reality of what has largely been conveniently ignored by most of our western society. In day-to-day life, it is altogether too easy to ignore what is ugly in the world, and focus instead on how the Vikings are playing or what’s for supper. Still, if this ugliness is not acknowledged and addressed, it puts us at risk to suffer similar fates. Beah’s text should serve not only as information that is relevant for our political leaders who address foreign policy, but for “average” citizens of nations across the world.
I knew a bit about the human trafficking in Western Africa and the problem with children soldiers in that part of the world as well, but did not understand nearly as much as I thought that I had. Beah’s vivid descriptions of the atrocities committed are troubling, but what is even more difficult to read is the effect that those experiences have on those involved. On page100, Beah recounts this very well: “my eyes caught the smashed head of another man. Something inside his brain was still pulsating and he was breathing. I felt nauseated… One of the soldiers was looking at me, chewing something and smiling… ‘You will get used to it, everybody does eventually,’ he said.” Not only does this kind of violence desensitize the individuals involved after prolonged exposure, it leaves a profound scar as well. We see this after Beah is taken by UNICEF to the hospital; he is not the same person that he once had been, and it requires intensive therapy for him to realize the truth in the statement “It is not your fault” (160).
Coincidentally, this genre and this book came up while I was preparing and teaching a lesson on human trafficking to supplement my final discussion on Kindred. My goals in the unit were to discuss the relevance of teaching and learning about slavery and racism from the 19th century with a modern audience. We also incorporated author intent in using a modern protagonist to explore this theme – it went well. In future years, I think I might go deeper with slavery in this unit, and explore the possibility of using additional texts beyond periodicals to discuss parallels with Kindred. A Long Way Gone would be a powerful book for students to read. I will recommend this text to any student who is interested in learning about global issues, and possibly offer this as a (optional) supplemental text to go along with Kindred next ye
Monday, November 30, 2009
The Circuit - reflections
I really liked The Circuit. I enjoyed this text because it was very simple, yet communicated very complex feelings and emotions about the author’s experience as an immigrant, as an “other,” as a child, and as a sibling. One of the things I noticed again and again is how much this text spoke to me and my own experience in life, even though the experiences and memories themselves are so vastly different.
Jimenez creates a very careful balance between extraordinary life experiences and universal understandings of family, pride, and home. I have never experienced the difficulty and tribulation that Jimenez went through with his family… but I have felt excluded at times for reasons beyond my control; I have seen the expression my mother wears when she feels that she has somehow disappointed us, and I know how painful that is to see. The chapter titled “Christmas Gift” spoke to me in a special way because of this. Additionally, “Soledad” brought me back to a very specific memory of my childhood as well. I once tried to surprise my parents by cleaning the kitchen – I must have been four at the time. My parents were getting ready to have company over, as I recall, and were very busy straightening the house up. Wanting to help, I brought out the mop and got to work on the floors, doing the best job I knew how to do. I don’t recall where I learned how to mop floors, but I apparently was doing it wrong. Ultimately, I got yelled at and sent to my room. I remember hiding my face in my pillow, thinking of how unfair it was that I was being punished for helping in the best way I knew how. In “Soledad,” Francisco works tirelessly all day picking cotton in hopes to impress his parents, in hope that he will someday be able to go with them to work to help the family. When his family comes home, his parents are upset that he forsook his job of watching the younger sibling, and his father becomes angrier still when he finds out that Francisco included dirt clods in his pile of picked cotton. Francisco has not yet learned lessons on honesty and integrity, and does not know where he has gone wrong. Francisco describes himself as being timid, hurt, and confused. I felt the same exact way.
Another reason that I enjoyed this text is for its ability to work as a comprehensive narrative, and for a collection of stand-alone narratives broken up into chapters. Each chapter seems to have its own unique reflection and theme, though they all tie into the larger whole.
Still another reason that I enjoyed reading this text is because there always seemed to be a silver lining to the hardships endured, even though at some times that glimmer of hope seemed very bleak and dull. Though the family is constantly moving and facing challenges at every turn, there always seems to be something worth hoping for. Though the memoir ends painfully, with Roberto’s dream job being dashed and Francisco being picked up by border patrol just before reciting the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence, we know by reading the book jacket that the author learned and developed from his tough experiences as a child, and took advantage of opportunities afforded to him later in life, eventually immigrating with his family to California, and earning a PhD from Columbia University.
On another note, one of the things that I did not like about this book is the diction. Having graduated with majors in English and Spanish, I have read many texts with the kind of cross-over diction that Jimenez employs, and I have been annoyed by it every single time. I’m not sure why some authors choose to write mostly in one language with a smattering of words in another language as if they fit together naturally. I understand using nicknames in a native tongue in a memoir like this, but it seems to me that Jimenez uses some Spanish words simply for the sake of using Spanish words. Is this meant to make the text more authentic to the reader? If so, I wish Jimenez would trust the authenticity of his memories to stand on their own. If it’s simply a stylistic choice, then I think it’s an ugly one.
Jimenez creates a very careful balance between extraordinary life experiences and universal understandings of family, pride, and home. I have never experienced the difficulty and tribulation that Jimenez went through with his family… but I have felt excluded at times for reasons beyond my control; I have seen the expression my mother wears when she feels that she has somehow disappointed us, and I know how painful that is to see. The chapter titled “Christmas Gift” spoke to me in a special way because of this. Additionally, “Soledad” brought me back to a very specific memory of my childhood as well. I once tried to surprise my parents by cleaning the kitchen – I must have been four at the time. My parents were getting ready to have company over, as I recall, and were very busy straightening the house up. Wanting to help, I brought out the mop and got to work on the floors, doing the best job I knew how to do. I don’t recall where I learned how to mop floors, but I apparently was doing it wrong. Ultimately, I got yelled at and sent to my room. I remember hiding my face in my pillow, thinking of how unfair it was that I was being punished for helping in the best way I knew how. In “Soledad,” Francisco works tirelessly all day picking cotton in hopes to impress his parents, in hope that he will someday be able to go with them to work to help the family. When his family comes home, his parents are upset that he forsook his job of watching the younger sibling, and his father becomes angrier still when he finds out that Francisco included dirt clods in his pile of picked cotton. Francisco has not yet learned lessons on honesty and integrity, and does not know where he has gone wrong. Francisco describes himself as being timid, hurt, and confused. I felt the same exact way.
Another reason that I enjoyed this text is for its ability to work as a comprehensive narrative, and for a collection of stand-alone narratives broken up into chapters. Each chapter seems to have its own unique reflection and theme, though they all tie into the larger whole.
Still another reason that I enjoyed reading this text is because there always seemed to be a silver lining to the hardships endured, even though at some times that glimmer of hope seemed very bleak and dull. Though the family is constantly moving and facing challenges at every turn, there always seems to be something worth hoping for. Though the memoir ends painfully, with Roberto’s dream job being dashed and Francisco being picked up by border patrol just before reciting the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence, we know by reading the book jacket that the author learned and developed from his tough experiences as a child, and took advantage of opportunities afforded to him later in life, eventually immigrating with his family to California, and earning a PhD from Columbia University.
On another note, one of the things that I did not like about this book is the diction. Having graduated with majors in English and Spanish, I have read many texts with the kind of cross-over diction that Jimenez employs, and I have been annoyed by it every single time. I’m not sure why some authors choose to write mostly in one language with a smattering of words in another language as if they fit together naturally. I understand using nicknames in a native tongue in a memoir like this, but it seems to me that Jimenez uses some Spanish words simply for the sake of using Spanish words. Is this meant to make the text more authentic to the reader? If so, I wish Jimenez would trust the authenticity of his memories to stand on their own. If it’s simply a stylistic choice, then I think it’s an ugly one.
Book Review #2 - Until They Bring the Streetcars Back
Until They Bring the Streetcars Back is a novel set in St. Paul in 1949, during the time that the streetcar system in the Twin Cities was scrapped in favor of busses. All of the details of the sporting events included in the book, as well as all details surrounding the streetcar system are historically accurate. Beyond these details, the novel is entirely fictional.
Cal, the hero of the text, goes on a journey of self-discovery to find that “love is a choice we make, not a feeling, or something that happens to us.” This theme is carefully shown through three separate yet connected conflict lines throughout the text; Cal chooses to show compassion for three victims who are unable to defend themselves, while the stakes and personal risk grow exponentially with each. In the beginning of the text, Cal is primarily concerned with himself and issues that deal with him directly. A careful reader will be able to recognize this when he becomes annoyed at Gretchen (the helpless girl he later saves) after she makes a plea for help that lands Cal in trouble and results in his missing football practice. At this point, Cal is incapable of empathizing with the tortured girl, and is only concerned with the trouble that he has landed in. Another example of this that occurs shortly later is when Cal comes home to find his dad in a foul mood during dinner. Nervous that his father has found out about trouble he is getting in at school, Cal is relieved when his father explains that the reason for his foul mood is that he is losing his job as a streetcar operator. Cal’s feeling of relief serves again as an indicator that Cal is selfish and incapable of empathizing. However, the more that Cal becomes involved in Gretchen’s life, the more he comes to realize the importance of love and compassion for others.
By the text’s end, Cal cares more for his family and his friends, and is becomes aware of the sometimes great divide between appearances and reality; he finds that character is more important than image, and learns who his “real” friends are after experiencing severe trials and tribulations. In all, I very much enjoyed the content of this text. The themes (love, appearance vs. reality, integrity, etc) are very relevant for an adolescent audience, and are still very engaging for an adult reader as well. The plot is interesting; the setting is vivid and descriptive. The conflict is engaging, and gives a “I want to find out what happens next” feeling at many points; I cared about Cal and (most of) his friends and family while reading this text.
Though I do enjoy much of this text, there is one detail in quality that bugs me… a lot. The female characters that West creates are very flat and unconvincing, especially Gretchen and Lola (Cal’s romantic interest). Lola’s character is very underdeveloped –more of a caricature of a popular, self-concerned teenage girl than a real character. Still, it is Gretchen’s character that is the novel’s glaring weakness. She is completely helpless, one-hundred percent dependent on Cal for survival and redemption. She often makes remarks like “I hope I don’t go crazy,” which I find very inauthentic. In the end of the novel, after suffering a lifetime of sexual and physical abuse from her father, and suffering the trauma of being forced to drown her own baby, Gretchen’s mental and physical health are completely restored when her father is sentenced to a lifetime of prison. Cal’s courageous action heals her completely. She also gets a boyfriend and transforms from an ugly, beaten down “wretch” to a confident and attractive woman – all because of Cal.
Another aspect of this text which does not work for me is that Cal’s sacrifice is cheapened in the end when Sandy tells Cal that the newspaper has printed a front page article which completely exonerates Cal. In the end, his reputation is saved, and everything that he had risked for helping Gretchen has been restored. Sacrifice, one of the principal archetypal qualities of a hero – is neglected for the sake of a “happy ending.” As a result, this novel is not nearly as memorable as it could be.
Cal, the hero of the text, goes on a journey of self-discovery to find that “love is a choice we make, not a feeling, or something that happens to us.” This theme is carefully shown through three separate yet connected conflict lines throughout the text; Cal chooses to show compassion for three victims who are unable to defend themselves, while the stakes and personal risk grow exponentially with each. In the beginning of the text, Cal is primarily concerned with himself and issues that deal with him directly. A careful reader will be able to recognize this when he becomes annoyed at Gretchen (the helpless girl he later saves) after she makes a plea for help that lands Cal in trouble and results in his missing football practice. At this point, Cal is incapable of empathizing with the tortured girl, and is only concerned with the trouble that he has landed in. Another example of this that occurs shortly later is when Cal comes home to find his dad in a foul mood during dinner. Nervous that his father has found out about trouble he is getting in at school, Cal is relieved when his father explains that the reason for his foul mood is that he is losing his job as a streetcar operator. Cal’s feeling of relief serves again as an indicator that Cal is selfish and incapable of empathizing. However, the more that Cal becomes involved in Gretchen’s life, the more he comes to realize the importance of love and compassion for others.
By the text’s end, Cal cares more for his family and his friends, and is becomes aware of the sometimes great divide between appearances and reality; he finds that character is more important than image, and learns who his “real” friends are after experiencing severe trials and tribulations. In all, I very much enjoyed the content of this text. The themes (love, appearance vs. reality, integrity, etc) are very relevant for an adolescent audience, and are still very engaging for an adult reader as well. The plot is interesting; the setting is vivid and descriptive. The conflict is engaging, and gives a “I want to find out what happens next” feeling at many points; I cared about Cal and (most of) his friends and family while reading this text.
Though I do enjoy much of this text, there is one detail in quality that bugs me… a lot. The female characters that West creates are very flat and unconvincing, especially Gretchen and Lola (Cal’s romantic interest). Lola’s character is very underdeveloped –more of a caricature of a popular, self-concerned teenage girl than a real character. Still, it is Gretchen’s character that is the novel’s glaring weakness. She is completely helpless, one-hundred percent dependent on Cal for survival and redemption. She often makes remarks like “I hope I don’t go crazy,” which I find very inauthentic. In the end of the novel, after suffering a lifetime of sexual and physical abuse from her father, and suffering the trauma of being forced to drown her own baby, Gretchen’s mental and physical health are completely restored when her father is sentenced to a lifetime of prison. Cal’s courageous action heals her completely. She also gets a boyfriend and transforms from an ugly, beaten down “wretch” to a confident and attractive woman – all because of Cal.
Another aspect of this text which does not work for me is that Cal’s sacrifice is cheapened in the end when Sandy tells Cal that the newspaper has printed a front page article which completely exonerates Cal. In the end, his reputation is saved, and everything that he had risked for helping Gretchen has been restored. Sacrifice, one of the principal archetypal qualities of a hero – is neglected for the sake of a “happy ending.” As a result, this novel is not nearly as memorable as it could be.
Book Review #1 - Ender's Game
Ender’s game has most everything that I look for in a leisure book. Though I do not find as much time to read for pleasure with my current line of work, it is nice to have a text like this one where the reader is so able to escape into a very well-developed alternative world where the conflict is engaging and the characters are interesting.
Ender’s Game is an epic story of leadership and survival. Ender Wiggin, the young boy who is the hero of the text, is an extraordinarily gifted boy who has been chosen by military leaders to be the best hope that earth (and humans) have for survival against attacks by the very vague and sinister “buggers.” From an early age, he is tormented and isolated so that he can properly develop into a leader. His relationships are severed at regular intervals by “teachers” who control and manipulate his environment. Throughout the first half of the text, the reader has a feeling of confidence in those who are manipulating, but only after one is well into the text does the reader discover that the designs of those in control are resting on a wing and a prayer. Strong as Ender is, his vulnerability does become exposed often, and the effects of that exposure are sometimes unforeseen. It becomes apparent that the “teachers” are just as reckless as Ender’s childish enemies. The novel follows the Hero’s Journey very closely, which brings a sense of comfort to the reader which helps to offset the uncertainty of Ender’s fate.
There are a few teachers in my building who have chosen to teach this title – our district has invested in several hundred copies for the three high schools. Since I had never read this title, but work with many students who have, this was an obvious choice for me to read as the science fiction choice text. In talking with the teachers who have taught this title, I have been told that students either love it or hate it. Some students tout this title as their favorite required text ever. Others are bored by it. Being a very plot driven book, there is not quite as much material to grab onto for class discussions and in-depth literary analyses, as I enjoy doing with The Great Gatsby, and The Things They Carried. Still, it is a goal of mine to read and offer texts that serve a variety of purposes.
One variable that could greatly affect one’s experience with this text is the reader’s ability to draw mental images of the world that Ender lives in. Much time and attention is given to imagery and description of the setting; for a reader who struggles with reading comprehension and creating mental images, or for a reader who simply does not care about this in reading, Ender’s Game will be frustrating. There are moments even for me when I found myself skimming through a few pages of detail and description to get back to the conflict that had originally drawn me in. In other words, there are times that I felt that Orson Scott Card could have cut forty pages out without sacrificing anything necessary from the text. Still, at that same time, I did not want the book to end. I will find and read the sequels to this text, and will look forward to the chance to read them in the future.
Ender’s Game is an epic story of leadership and survival. Ender Wiggin, the young boy who is the hero of the text, is an extraordinarily gifted boy who has been chosen by military leaders to be the best hope that earth (and humans) have for survival against attacks by the very vague and sinister “buggers.” From an early age, he is tormented and isolated so that he can properly develop into a leader. His relationships are severed at regular intervals by “teachers” who control and manipulate his environment. Throughout the first half of the text, the reader has a feeling of confidence in those who are manipulating, but only after one is well into the text does the reader discover that the designs of those in control are resting on a wing and a prayer. Strong as Ender is, his vulnerability does become exposed often, and the effects of that exposure are sometimes unforeseen. It becomes apparent that the “teachers” are just as reckless as Ender’s childish enemies. The novel follows the Hero’s Journey very closely, which brings a sense of comfort to the reader which helps to offset the uncertainty of Ender’s fate.
There are a few teachers in my building who have chosen to teach this title – our district has invested in several hundred copies for the three high schools. Since I had never read this title, but work with many students who have, this was an obvious choice for me to read as the science fiction choice text. In talking with the teachers who have taught this title, I have been told that students either love it or hate it. Some students tout this title as their favorite required text ever. Others are bored by it. Being a very plot driven book, there is not quite as much material to grab onto for class discussions and in-depth literary analyses, as I enjoy doing with The Great Gatsby, and The Things They Carried. Still, it is a goal of mine to read and offer texts that serve a variety of purposes.
One variable that could greatly affect one’s experience with this text is the reader’s ability to draw mental images of the world that Ender lives in. Much time and attention is given to imagery and description of the setting; for a reader who struggles with reading comprehension and creating mental images, or for a reader who simply does not care about this in reading, Ender’s Game will be frustrating. There are moments even for me when I found myself skimming through a few pages of detail and description to get back to the conflict that had originally drawn me in. In other words, there are times that I felt that Orson Scott Card could have cut forty pages out without sacrificing anything necessary from the text. Still, at that same time, I did not want the book to end. I will find and read the sequels to this text, and will look forward to the chance to read them in the future.
Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World
Armstrong’s non-fiction text is engaging like few others. I read a lot of non-fiction literature – sometimes it is work, sometimes it is for entertainment (generally baseball related), and other times it is for personal learning. Almost always, if the non-fiction literature I am reading recounts a story, like Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World does, I generally know what is going to happen at the end, and read along to learn more about the subject. In this case, I knew the end result of Shackleton and his men – I knew before reading that they would survive. All this same, this book is a page-turner. Armstrong creates suspense in a text where the end is known already.
It is clear that Armstrong has dedicated a substantial amount of time to researching the subject matter in this text, and she is able to expertly capture a surprising amount of detail from the ill-fated journey of Schackleton and his men. The photos that accompany this text are incredible, and go a long way in making the text more “real.” When seeing images of the men and from the voyage, a very intimate feeling is created for the reader – it makes it easier to connect with the characters in an authentic way… I think that this is because it is easy to lose track of the fact that the story being told in this text is in fact non-fiction. It seems at times to be too amazing to be true, but the photos serve as a reminder to the reader that what is being told really happened. Additionally, photos like these can serve to show us how those involved really are individuals. It is so easy to gloss over history and not relate with or connect with the individual’s role or experience – to look at history as something bland and impersonal, to fail to make any personal connection with those involved in the history being made.
Shortly before my grandfather passed away, he invited me to look at his collection of photos from WWII. For my grandfather, this was something that was very private. Aside from a few offhand comments, he never spoke about the war, or his experiences in it. Not even my father had seen the photos I looked at with him at that time. While we were together, it struck me in a powerful way like never before that the young faces in the photos I was looking at had lives and dreams that were equally as complex and vivid as my own. It is perhaps easier to not think of war and soldiers in such a way, but seeing pictures of my grandfather pal around with his buddies in his early twenties (he was roughly my own age in most of the photos, which made the connection even more profound) made for a very intimate connection.
In the same way, seeing photos of the men in the journey of the Endurance brought faces and a sense of intimacy to the stories of those involved. They cannot exist as obscure figures in history. In conjunction with this, Armstrong shares personal details about the crew, which make the connection that the reader feels to the characters even stronger. In all, this is a very enjoyable text. It was fun to learn about the journey of the men, and to learn about the Antarctic in this way. The only concern that I may have in recommending this book to adolescent readers is the complete lack of female characters- though true to history, it may perhaps be an obstacle for a younger female reader to engage with the text.
It is clear that Armstrong has dedicated a substantial amount of time to researching the subject matter in this text, and she is able to expertly capture a surprising amount of detail from the ill-fated journey of Schackleton and his men. The photos that accompany this text are incredible, and go a long way in making the text more “real.” When seeing images of the men and from the voyage, a very intimate feeling is created for the reader – it makes it easier to connect with the characters in an authentic way… I think that this is because it is easy to lose track of the fact that the story being told in this text is in fact non-fiction. It seems at times to be too amazing to be true, but the photos serve as a reminder to the reader that what is being told really happened. Additionally, photos like these can serve to show us how those involved really are individuals. It is so easy to gloss over history and not relate with or connect with the individual’s role or experience – to look at history as something bland and impersonal, to fail to make any personal connection with those involved in the history being made.
Shortly before my grandfather passed away, he invited me to look at his collection of photos from WWII. For my grandfather, this was something that was very private. Aside from a few offhand comments, he never spoke about the war, or his experiences in it. Not even my father had seen the photos I looked at with him at that time. While we were together, it struck me in a powerful way like never before that the young faces in the photos I was looking at had lives and dreams that were equally as complex and vivid as my own. It is perhaps easier to not think of war and soldiers in such a way, but seeing pictures of my grandfather pal around with his buddies in his early twenties (he was roughly my own age in most of the photos, which made the connection even more profound) made for a very intimate connection.
In the same way, seeing photos of the men in the journey of the Endurance brought faces and a sense of intimacy to the stories of those involved. They cannot exist as obscure figures in history. In conjunction with this, Armstrong shares personal details about the crew, which make the connection that the reader feels to the characters even stronger. In all, this is a very enjoyable text. It was fun to learn about the journey of the men, and to learn about the Antarctic in this way. The only concern that I may have in recommending this book to adolescent readers is the complete lack of female characters- though true to history, it may perhaps be an obstacle for a younger female reader to engage with the text.
The House of the Scorpion
Farmer’s award winning text creates a very purposeful dystopia that is relevant to our contemporary world. In my brief experience with the genre of science fiction, I have mostly read texts that use the elements of science fiction more for the purpose of creating an engaging setting than for social commentary (Ender’s Game, Star Wars, etc.). However, this text does both for me. The world of Opium is very interesting - I found myself often interested in learning more about the world in which the text was set – the politics, the history, how it came to be, etc. At the same time, it also served as a chillingly nightmarish future of our own world - if some of our current societal ails are encouraged and not halted. Those that I identified most with were the issue of human cloning, the power and influence of drug cartels, the treatment of illegal immigrants, and stratification of the classes.
With the scientific advances that have been made with DNA research and cloning of animals (including a baby goat “Dolly” in 1997), the possibility of human cloning has been a very conceivable possibility - and in the forefront of many ethical discussions. The possibilities of extending human life are very real, but beg questions of dignity to arise. This seems to be a fairly commonly occurring motif in science fiction literature, likely due to it’s being a hot topic in modern science. Brave New World, A Handmaiden’s Tale (as far as I could tell, because I hated this text), and House of the Scorpion all focus on this issue. The main character Mateo, being a living organ farm for a monster of a person, brings the reader face to face with the inevitable conflict on needing to sacrifice one life to sustain another in a world where such technology is possible. The question that the reader is left to ponder is where basic human dignity comes from… This text illustrates all human beings have equal intrinsic value, though this may not be reflected by the world we live in.
I used to live in Mexico for a short period of time after completing my undergraduate studies, and I was able to learn about problems of corruption within various Latin American governments during that time from the interaction that I had with Mexican people I befriended and through the local media. Studying power can be a very interesting and frightening thing, especially when one considers how influential coercion and bribery can be - and that no level of government is safe from such influences. In this text, we are able to see the great amount of power that El Patron wields. Like today’s drug cartels that are wrestling legitimate power away from some governments, he is powerful, wealthy, and capable of cruel action in order to influence others. He is the face of what have become “acceptable” organized crime cartels in our world; allowed to exist for the fear that he inspires.
One more contemporary issue that is brought to light is the treatment of immigrants, especially illegal immigrants in our society. This is an issue that is of special importance to me, as I have spent much time as a tutor for Chicanos Latinos Unidos En Servicio (CLUES), which serves as an adult education center in South Minneapolis that aims to help all immigrants, regardless of legal status. Additionally, I teach Kindred to my junior English classes at MGSH, and incorporate a mini-lesson on human trafficking in the Twin Cities to help students recognize that slavery is an issue that is still very relevant to our world. Many of the victims of human trafficking in our area are immigrants (legal as well as illegal) who are trapped and/or coerced into lives of servitude. This problem is very real, and surprisingly prevalent. In House of the Scorpion, Farmer shows this same issue with immigrants who are forced into lives of servitude as they are turned into eejits, or beings without any power of choice or free will. Their freedom and ability to think for themselves are literally removed from them by the addition of a computer chip – In our real world, victims of human trafficking lose their freedom through deception, threats, fear, and other forms of control.
In addition to the issue of modern slavery in our world, another relevant theme that Farmer’s text explores is the stratification of classes - in the world that Farmer creates, there is an almost caste-like system set up that is very rigid, and determines the worth of the individual. Mateo struggles with being outcast for others thinking he is an eejit, and later he struggles with being looked upon as nothing more than a clone, a circumstance which is beyond his control. Though some of the characters recognize more in Mateo than this, there still seems to be a limit to what some characters are capable of regarding him as. Maria, for example, never seems to see him as an equal; his relationship with her seems always to be a subservient one.
The first step in correcting a vice is recognizing its existence. I feel that Farmer has done this with House of the Scorpion.
With the scientific advances that have been made with DNA research and cloning of animals (including a baby goat “Dolly” in 1997), the possibility of human cloning has been a very conceivable possibility - and in the forefront of many ethical discussions. The possibilities of extending human life are very real, but beg questions of dignity to arise. This seems to be a fairly commonly occurring motif in science fiction literature, likely due to it’s being a hot topic in modern science. Brave New World, A Handmaiden’s Tale (as far as I could tell, because I hated this text), and House of the Scorpion all focus on this issue. The main character Mateo, being a living organ farm for a monster of a person, brings the reader face to face with the inevitable conflict on needing to sacrifice one life to sustain another in a world where such technology is possible. The question that the reader is left to ponder is where basic human dignity comes from… This text illustrates all human beings have equal intrinsic value, though this may not be reflected by the world we live in.
I used to live in Mexico for a short period of time after completing my undergraduate studies, and I was able to learn about problems of corruption within various Latin American governments during that time from the interaction that I had with Mexican people I befriended and through the local media. Studying power can be a very interesting and frightening thing, especially when one considers how influential coercion and bribery can be - and that no level of government is safe from such influences. In this text, we are able to see the great amount of power that El Patron wields. Like today’s drug cartels that are wrestling legitimate power away from some governments, he is powerful, wealthy, and capable of cruel action in order to influence others. He is the face of what have become “acceptable” organized crime cartels in our world; allowed to exist for the fear that he inspires.
One more contemporary issue that is brought to light is the treatment of immigrants, especially illegal immigrants in our society. This is an issue that is of special importance to me, as I have spent much time as a tutor for Chicanos Latinos Unidos En Servicio (CLUES), which serves as an adult education center in South Minneapolis that aims to help all immigrants, regardless of legal status. Additionally, I teach Kindred to my junior English classes at MGSH, and incorporate a mini-lesson on human trafficking in the Twin Cities to help students recognize that slavery is an issue that is still very relevant to our world. Many of the victims of human trafficking in our area are immigrants (legal as well as illegal) who are trapped and/or coerced into lives of servitude. This problem is very real, and surprisingly prevalent. In House of the Scorpion, Farmer shows this same issue with immigrants who are forced into lives of servitude as they are turned into eejits, or beings without any power of choice or free will. Their freedom and ability to think for themselves are literally removed from them by the addition of a computer chip – In our real world, victims of human trafficking lose their freedom through deception, threats, fear, and other forms of control.
In addition to the issue of modern slavery in our world, another relevant theme that Farmer’s text explores is the stratification of classes - in the world that Farmer creates, there is an almost caste-like system set up that is very rigid, and determines the worth of the individual. Mateo struggles with being outcast for others thinking he is an eejit, and later he struggles with being looked upon as nothing more than a clone, a circumstance which is beyond his control. Though some of the characters recognize more in Mateo than this, there still seems to be a limit to what some characters are capable of regarding him as. Maria, for example, never seems to see him as an equal; his relationship with her seems always to be a subservient one.
The first step in correcting a vice is recognizing its existence. I feel that Farmer has done this with House of the Scorpion.
Monday, November 2, 2009
The Golden Compass
I approached The Golden Compass with all of the time and energy that I was able to muster this past week, but that was unfortunately not as much as I would have wanted it to be. Due to the heavy reading load this week for class and a large amount of grading (I collected the main writing assignment for the term a week and a half ago, and have 140 3 page essays to grade which take me 10 minutes a piece), I needed to skim through Pullman’s text. I struggled for two main reasons.
The first reason that I struggled with this text is because of its plot, which is very intricate and broad at the same time. What I mean by this is that the plot of Golden Compass is very detailed; there are many characters with strange names, and the fantastical world is thoroughly examined. At the same time, as this text is the first part of a larger trilogy, this first text sets up a larger plot than one would expect from a novel of its length; there are many conflicts, and the plot takes many turns. We start at a fictional college within Oxford University, and from the onset of the story, we are privy to suspense, mystery, and deceit as we see that the house master plans to poison Lord Asriel. From there, gobblers steal Roger, and though our hero then goes on a journey to rescue Roger, we do not find answers to many questions that keep popping up for quite some time. Along the way, we meet Mrs. Coulter, Lyra receives a gift from the master we once thought was wicked, and we run into a band of gypsies that prove to be surprisingly altruistic and welcoming – especially for a group that has been outcast and traditionally shunned by society. There’s an entirely new society with its own norms and values that we are introduced to, and then we meet bears with thumbs (and find that they have their own conflict that needs resolution), and we find that daemons are getting chopped off from kids, and it has something to do with dust, and then we find out that nearly nobody is who he or she appears to be… and so on. Generally speaking, I enjoy getting really into this kind of fantasy literature where there are new worlds to get to know. I like the intricacy and the suspense. With this text, I got easily lost - and instead of turning back to an earlier chapter to reference what was happening and to answer questions that arose, I pushed through to reach the end. I assume that this has more to do with what I brought to the text (and the time that I was not able to bring to the text) than any quality that the writing itself had. I generally read very slowly but am able to recall details exceptionally well. By speeding up my pace, I missed out on comprehension.
The second reason that I struggled with this text is because of its anti-Christian undertones/overtones – another struggle that came from what I bring to the text. I was raised in a very strong Catholic family, and have a strong Christian faith today. I understand that Pullman has very strong personal objections to Christianity and its teachings; his beliefs and many of his values are fundamentally opposite. Whereas traditional Christian values mirror Milton’s Paradise Lost’s depiction of the fall of Adam and Eve and sin’s introduction into the world as being a bad thing (to simplify), Pullman’s view is that vice and flaws (sin) are what make mankind interesting – and that Adam and Eve’s temptation was a great triumph. This became a large obstacle in my engaging with the text. In addition to the text’s central themes, details existed which made it difficult for me to put my own experience on hold while reading; everything from the trilogy’s title (His Dark Materials – an excerpt from Milton) to the heroes being witches and gypsies (importance being that these are traditionally societies that did not participate in organized religion of any kind) while the villains are members of the church board. Pullman is very purposeful in his very thorough commentary on organized religion – specifically Christianity, and this purposefulness became an obstacle to me.
As I’ve mentioned in earlier reflections, I encourage my students to read for entertainment or read to learn. I did not read this text to learn, and if I were reading it for entertainment alone, I would have put the book down for another title early on; not because I took any kind of personal offense from this text (I fancy myself a reader who is mature enough to not take intertextual commentary personally), but because the content became distracting to me and hindered my full engagement with the text.
The first reason that I struggled with this text is because of its plot, which is very intricate and broad at the same time. What I mean by this is that the plot of Golden Compass is very detailed; there are many characters with strange names, and the fantastical world is thoroughly examined. At the same time, as this text is the first part of a larger trilogy, this first text sets up a larger plot than one would expect from a novel of its length; there are many conflicts, and the plot takes many turns. We start at a fictional college within Oxford University, and from the onset of the story, we are privy to suspense, mystery, and deceit as we see that the house master plans to poison Lord Asriel. From there, gobblers steal Roger, and though our hero then goes on a journey to rescue Roger, we do not find answers to many questions that keep popping up for quite some time. Along the way, we meet Mrs. Coulter, Lyra receives a gift from the master we once thought was wicked, and we run into a band of gypsies that prove to be surprisingly altruistic and welcoming – especially for a group that has been outcast and traditionally shunned by society. There’s an entirely new society with its own norms and values that we are introduced to, and then we meet bears with thumbs (and find that they have their own conflict that needs resolution), and we find that daemons are getting chopped off from kids, and it has something to do with dust, and then we find out that nearly nobody is who he or she appears to be… and so on. Generally speaking, I enjoy getting really into this kind of fantasy literature where there are new worlds to get to know. I like the intricacy and the suspense. With this text, I got easily lost - and instead of turning back to an earlier chapter to reference what was happening and to answer questions that arose, I pushed through to reach the end. I assume that this has more to do with what I brought to the text (and the time that I was not able to bring to the text) than any quality that the writing itself had. I generally read very slowly but am able to recall details exceptionally well. By speeding up my pace, I missed out on comprehension.
The second reason that I struggled with this text is because of its anti-Christian undertones/overtones – another struggle that came from what I bring to the text. I was raised in a very strong Catholic family, and have a strong Christian faith today. I understand that Pullman has very strong personal objections to Christianity and its teachings; his beliefs and many of his values are fundamentally opposite. Whereas traditional Christian values mirror Milton’s Paradise Lost’s depiction of the fall of Adam and Eve and sin’s introduction into the world as being a bad thing (to simplify), Pullman’s view is that vice and flaws (sin) are what make mankind interesting – and that Adam and Eve’s temptation was a great triumph. This became a large obstacle in my engaging with the text. In addition to the text’s central themes, details existed which made it difficult for me to put my own experience on hold while reading; everything from the trilogy’s title (His Dark Materials – an excerpt from Milton) to the heroes being witches and gypsies (importance being that these are traditionally societies that did not participate in organized religion of any kind) while the villains are members of the church board. Pullman is very purposeful in his very thorough commentary on organized religion – specifically Christianity, and this purposefulness became an obstacle to me.
As I’ve mentioned in earlier reflections, I encourage my students to read for entertainment or read to learn. I did not read this text to learn, and if I were reading it for entertainment alone, I would have put the book down for another title early on; not because I took any kind of personal offense from this text (I fancy myself a reader who is mature enough to not take intertextual commentary personally), but because the content became distracting to me and hindered my full engagement with the text.
Skellig Reflections
While getting into Skellig, I could not get over the similarities the text has to A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The parallels come early, and are very strong. In Almond’s text, an apparently ancient, arthritic man with what end up being injured wings is found in a dilapidated garage. The angel-man (Skellig) is filthy and wasting away, amid dead insects and debris. In Marquez’s text (written in 1968), an old man with injured wings is found covered in filth in the back yard of a peculiar couple’s residence among crabs which have washed up onto shore (in fantastical numbers after a supernaturally large rainfall). He is arthritic and disheveled, and is assumed to be an angel by many who see him.
I found it fascinating that there were such strong connections to this other text, and I did a bit of research on Almond to see where his writing was coming from. I found an article about Skellig and its connections to Marquez’s text. The article was interesting, but the thing that stood out most to me was Almond’s half-acknowledgement of this other text as being an inspiration. According to him, he did not realize until halfway through writing Skellig that he was subliminally inspired by Marquez (Latham). This astounds me - and in truth, I find it hard to believe. That does not change anything about Almond being an extremely talented writer, but it does make me a skeptic, I guess.
Because of my experience with Marquez and Esquivel and others through my studies in Spanish (second major) and their use of magical realism, I began perceiving Skellig as a piece of magical realism rather than fantasy. To me, fantasy purposes to strike a chord with the imagination of the reader, while magical realism (I have found) is typically used for social commentary – the contrasts between the ordinary, mundane world and the fantastical are typically used to exaggerate the criticism (an over-simplification, I concede). My own experience with each of these genres is somewhat limited; I have read texts from each, have enjoyed each, and do see them as being very similar. I would bet that many would view these as fitting within the same category or genre as well.
After finishing with Skellig, however, I do not see such sharp criticisms on society as I have grown accustomed to with magical realism – though I found many themes of interest to adolescents. Ones that are particularly interesting to me are the themes of transformation and of self. Teenage years bring about the first major identity crisis that many people face – I witness students struggle with individuality and belonging every day. Michael goes through this same struggle; he does not identify fully with his friends in the beginning of the text, and grows more distant from his friends as his circumstances, and concerns are on very different levels from them. Additionally, Michael’s openness with his emotions goes against traditionally defined gender roles in our society. In this way also, Michael is going out on a limb to define his own self in this text. Just as Skellig transforms from “Mr. Nobody,” dependent on others, into a beautiful and independent creature, Michael finds growth and acceptance in who he finds he is.
Another aspect of this text that appealed to me was the amibiguity of Skellig’s origin and nature. Though there are details that point to a possible angelic origin, this is not told to the reader directly. I like to have questions remaining at the end of any text, and Almond left some room for thought with his reading audience. We do not know who or what Skellig is, and we do not know exactly how Joy’s healing came about – just as there are many questions in life that are left unanswered, these are left for us to figure out on our own.
Works Cited:
Latham, Don. “Magical Realism and the Child Reader: The Case of David Almond’s Skellig.” The Looking Glass – vol. 10, No. 1 – Alice’s Academy. 2 January, 2006. Web. 30 October, 2009.
I found it fascinating that there were such strong connections to this other text, and I did a bit of research on Almond to see where his writing was coming from. I found an article about Skellig and its connections to Marquez’s text. The article was interesting, but the thing that stood out most to me was Almond’s half-acknowledgement of this other text as being an inspiration. According to him, he did not realize until halfway through writing Skellig that he was subliminally inspired by Marquez (Latham). This astounds me - and in truth, I find it hard to believe. That does not change anything about Almond being an extremely talented writer, but it does make me a skeptic, I guess.
Because of my experience with Marquez and Esquivel and others through my studies in Spanish (second major) and their use of magical realism, I began perceiving Skellig as a piece of magical realism rather than fantasy. To me, fantasy purposes to strike a chord with the imagination of the reader, while magical realism (I have found) is typically used for social commentary – the contrasts between the ordinary, mundane world and the fantastical are typically used to exaggerate the criticism (an over-simplification, I concede). My own experience with each of these genres is somewhat limited; I have read texts from each, have enjoyed each, and do see them as being very similar. I would bet that many would view these as fitting within the same category or genre as well.
After finishing with Skellig, however, I do not see such sharp criticisms on society as I have grown accustomed to with magical realism – though I found many themes of interest to adolescents. Ones that are particularly interesting to me are the themes of transformation and of self. Teenage years bring about the first major identity crisis that many people face – I witness students struggle with individuality and belonging every day. Michael goes through this same struggle; he does not identify fully with his friends in the beginning of the text, and grows more distant from his friends as his circumstances, and concerns are on very different levels from them. Additionally, Michael’s openness with his emotions goes against traditionally defined gender roles in our society. In this way also, Michael is going out on a limb to define his own self in this text. Just as Skellig transforms from “Mr. Nobody,” dependent on others, into a beautiful and independent creature, Michael finds growth and acceptance in who he finds he is.
Another aspect of this text that appealed to me was the amibiguity of Skellig’s origin and nature. Though there are details that point to a possible angelic origin, this is not told to the reader directly. I like to have questions remaining at the end of any text, and Almond left some room for thought with his reading audience. We do not know who or what Skellig is, and we do not know exactly how Joy’s healing came about – just as there are many questions in life that are left unanswered, these are left for us to figure out on our own.
Works Cited:
Latham, Don. “Magical Realism and the Child Reader: The Case of David Almond’s Skellig.” The Looking Glass – vol. 10, No. 1 – Alice’s Academy. 2 January, 2006. Web. 30 October, 2009.
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