'"You'll be here for the White Clown tonight, and the ladies coming over?" cried Mildred. Montag stopped at the door with his back turned. "Millie?" A silence. "What?" "Millie? Does the White Clown love you?" No answer. "Millie, does-" He licked his lips. "Does your "family" love you, love you very much, love you with all heart and soul, Millie?" He felt her blinking slowly at the back of his neck. "Why'd you ask a silly question like that?" He felt like he wanted to cry, but nothing would happen to his eyes or his mouth. "If you see that dog outside," said Mildred, "give him a kick for me." He hesitated, listening at the door. He opened it and stepped out. The rain had stopped and the sun was setting in the clear sky. The street and the lawn and the porch were empty. He let his breath go in a great sigh. He slammed the door."
In this passage from Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, the main character, Montag, asks his wife a question which reveals the priorities held by Montag, his wife, and the rest of the futuristic society in which they live. To his wife, the "family," or interactive television, is her life. In the book, she wakes up, eats breakfast, and watches television, often with friends. As Montag becomes more knowledgeable (as he, in a sense, awakens), he attempts to share his newfound knowledge with his wife's friends- yet, they demonstrate the fear and sensitivity that other people (except for a few, such as Faber, Clarisse, and Montag) express at the nature of books. In this excerpt from the novel, Montag acquiesces the reality of his wife's shallowness, and her inability to recognize the wealth that books offer, and the dangerous, sadistic world that they live in.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Fashion Meets Literature, Part Two: The Great Gatsby
"The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored ballon. They were booth in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. I must have stood for a few minutes listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the roan of a picture on the wall. Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor."
From the Roaring Twenties- inspired SS12 collections of Ralph Lauren and Tory Burch, to the Woody Allen film Midnight in Paris of this year, to the impending Gatsby film due Christmas Day of next year, to the continuous inspiration that the risquely sheer, revealing drop-waist dresses and the charming little hats of the Gatzbian era gives the runway; the 1920s have been a constant inspiration in fashion and life. My great- grandmother reached the height of her adolescence in the Roaring Twenties, and several diaphanous lace confections, all of a kind, a low-waisted sack of a thing, shockingly sheer, with delicate hand-embroidery and hand- beading with tiny freshwater pearls; all have been left as heirlooms for me.
The pictoral idea behind the flapper, was a woman, enlightened and free from all the constraints applied to her in society (embodied by Kate Chopin's heroines in her novels), open to all sexual freedoms, free to shorten their translucent hems, chop off the hair which had been collecting on their head for the past decade, and wear red lipstick and smoke; all freeing the woman who had been restrained. In this passage, the "two young women," Daisy and Jordan, are symbolically "floating" in Nick Carraway's eyes, carelessly floating throughout the air, their white dresses flapping. Tom, emblematically, slams the window shut, constricting the freedom of Daisy (which foreshadows her later affair with Gatsby.)
From the Roaring Twenties- inspired SS12 collections of Ralph Lauren and Tory Burch, to the Woody Allen film Midnight in Paris of this year, to the impending Gatsby film due Christmas Day of next year, to the continuous inspiration that the risquely sheer, revealing drop-waist dresses and the charming little hats of the Gatzbian era gives the runway; the 1920s have been a constant inspiration in fashion and life. My great- grandmother reached the height of her adolescence in the Roaring Twenties, and several diaphanous lace confections, all of a kind, a low-waisted sack of a thing, shockingly sheer, with delicate hand-embroidery and hand- beading with tiny freshwater pearls; all have been left as heirlooms for me.
The pictoral idea behind the flapper, was a woman, enlightened and free from all the constraints applied to her in society (embodied by Kate Chopin's heroines in her novels), open to all sexual freedoms, free to shorten their translucent hems, chop off the hair which had been collecting on their head for the past decade, and wear red lipstick and smoke; all freeing the woman who had been restrained. In this passage, the "two young women," Daisy and Jordan, are symbolically "floating" in Nick Carraway's eyes, carelessly floating throughout the air, their white dresses flapping. Tom, emblematically, slams the window shut, constricting the freedom of Daisy (which foreshadows her later affair with Gatsby.)
Mrs. Sommer's Silk Stockings (Senseless Shopping Spectacle)
"A dollar and ninety-eight cents," she mused aloud. "Well, I'll take this pair." She handed the girl a five-dollar bill and waited for her change and for her parcel. What a very small parcel it was! It seemed lost in the depths of her shabby old shopping-bag.
Mrs. Sommers after that did not move in the direction of the bargain counter. She took the elevator, which carried her to an upper floor into the region of the ladies' waiting-rooms. Here, in a retired corner, she exchanged her cotton stockings for the new silk ones which she had just bought. She was not going through any acute mental process or reasoning with herself, nor was she striving to explain to her satisfaction the motive of her action. She was not thinking at all. She seemed for the time to be taking a rest from that laborious and fatiguing function and to have abandoned herself to some mechanical impulse that directed her actions and freed her of responsibility.
She was fastidious. The clerk could not make her out; he could not reconcile her shoes with her stockings, and she was not too easily pleased. She held back her skirts and turned her feet one way and her head another way as she glanced down at the polished, pointed-tipped boots. Her foot and ankle looked very pretty. She could not realize that they belonged to her and were a part of herself. She wanted an excellent and stylish fit, she told the young fellow who served her, and she did not mind the difference of a dollar or two more in the price so long as she got what she desired.
In this passage, the inner conflict (and resolve of the conflict) of Mrs. Sommer is revealed, as she struggles with the choice between practicality (and selflessness) and luxury, something that is (and was, in Chopin's era) common between middle-class women, as Chopin artfully creates this almost comical scene of a middle-class woman with the choice between these two options. Of course, her desire for something greater than she has ever had- the longing to be stylish and fashionable and comfortable- wins out over her resolve, and she goes on this great shopping binge. In this excerpt from the passage, he buys silk stockings (and spends quite a while in the dressing room), and later kidskin gloves, fashion glossies, and an expensive lunch.
I think this work by Chopin is relatable to many of today's women, who on shopping trips to anywhere for milk or toilet paper or whatever, are bombarded by advertisements to "indulge a little- eat Godiva truffles!," and "have a little 'me' time- shave with Venus Gillette Goddess razors!" and, of course, the iconic L'Oreal "Because you're worth it" slogan. The media today, as well as in Chopin's time (though through a different way) bombards middle class women, forcing them to choose between indulgence and practicality.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Of Mice and Men: Lennie's Forgetfulness and Repetition
"Oh, sure, George. I remember that now. " His hands went quickly into his side coat pockets. He said gently, "George.... I ain't got mine. I musta lost it, " He looked down at the ground in despair. "You never had none, you crazy bastard. I got both of 'em here. Think I'd let you carry your own work card?" Lennie grinned with relief. "I.... I thought I put it in my side pocket. " His hand went into the pocket again. George looked sharply at him. "What'd you take outa that pocket?" "Ain't a thing in my pocket, " Lennie said cleverly. "I know there ain't. You got it in your hand. What you got in your hand - hidin' it?" "I ain't got nothin', George, Honest. " "Come on, give it here. " Lennie held his closed hand away from George's direction. "It's only a mouse, George. " "A mouse? A live mouse?" "Uh-uh. Jus' a dead mouse, George. I didn' kill it. ' Honest! I found it. I found it dead. " "Give it here!" said George. "Aw, leave me have it, George. " "Give it here!" Lennie's closed hand slowly obeyed. George took the mouse and threw it across the pool to the other side, among the brush. "What you want of a dead mouse, anyways?" "I could pet it with my thumb while we walked along, " said Lennie. "Well, you ain't petting no mice while you walk with me. You remember where we're goin' now?" Lennie looked startled and then in embarrassment hid his face against his knees. "I forgot again. " "Jesus Christ, " George said resignedly. "Well - look, we're gonna work on a ranch like the one we come from up north." "Up north?" "In Weed. "
In this paragraph, John Steinbeck emphasizes Lennie's repetitive forgetfulness, as well as his simple desire to have things repeated, a mantra of idealism that he maintains (relating to the rabbits and the farm, both of which Lennie idealizes, along with the other men who are in with them on the deal to "live off the fatta the land.") George, in contrast, is sensible and realistic, and checks Lennie's childlike behavior with a mature response (he takes the mouse away from Lennie.) This paragraph effectively establishes the almost comically absurd relationship between George and Lennie. Although George is annoyed and burdened by Lennie's recurrent childlike mistakes (which are characterized by George's "stories" about the farm and what George could do if he didn't have Lennie to weigh him down, that Lennie has recognized as established into a routine), his love and sense of responsibility for Lennie, as a friend and a type of father figure, are recurrent at the end of the novel; when George, with conflicting emotions shoots Lennie.
In this paragraph, John Steinbeck emphasizes Lennie's repetitive forgetfulness, as well as his simple desire to have things repeated, a mantra of idealism that he maintains (relating to the rabbits and the farm, both of which Lennie idealizes, along with the other men who are in with them on the deal to "live off the fatta the land.") George, in contrast, is sensible and realistic, and checks Lennie's childlike behavior with a mature response (he takes the mouse away from Lennie.) This paragraph effectively establishes the almost comically absurd relationship between George and Lennie. Although George is annoyed and burdened by Lennie's recurrent childlike mistakes (which are characterized by George's "stories" about the farm and what George could do if he didn't have Lennie to weigh him down, that Lennie has recognized as established into a routine), his love and sense of responsibility for Lennie, as a friend and a type of father figure, are recurrent at the end of the novel; when George, with conflicting emotions shoots Lennie.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Mice and Men- The Eye (Curley's Wife)
"George cut the cards and began turning them over, looking at each one and throwing it down on a pile. He said, "This guy Curley sounds like a son-of-a-bitch to me. I don't like mean little guys." "Seems to me like he's worse lately," said the swamper. "He got married a couple of weeks ago. Wife lives in the boss's house. Seems like Curley is cockier'n ever since he got married." George grunted, "Maybe he's showin' off for his wife." The swamper warmed to the gossip. "You seen that glove on his left hand?" "Yeah. I seen it." "Well, that glove's fulla Vaseline." "Vaseline? What the hell for?" "Well, I tell ya what-Curley says he's keepin' that hand soft for his wife." George studied the cards absorbedly. "That's a dirty thing to tell around," he said. The old man was reassured. He had drawn a derogatory statement from George. He felt safe now, and he spoke more confidently. "Wait'll you see Curley's wife." George cut the cards again and put out a solitaire lay, slowly and deliberately. "Purty?" he asked casually. "Yeah. Purty...but-" George studied the cards. "But what?" "Well-she got the eye." "Yeah? Married two weeks and got the eye? Maybe that's why Curley's pants is full of ants." "I seen her give Slim the eye. Slim's a jerkline skinner. Hell of a nice fella. Slim don't need to wear not high-heeled boots on a grain team. I seen her give Slim the eye. Curley never seen it. An' I seen her give Carlson the eye." George pretended a lack of interest. "Looks like we was gonna have fun." The swamper stood up from his box. "Know what I think?" George did not answer. "Well, I think Curley's married.... a tart." "He ain't the first," said George. "There's plenty done that.'"
Steinbeck creates the dialogue between the three men demonstrates the authenticity and "gritty" verisimilitude that he intends to create a realistic, colorful view for the reader. The swamper's eagerness to share any unheard gossip demonstrates the men's hunger for companionship, relating to the stable buck, Crooks', recurrent loneliness. The sick detail in which the swamper eagerly enlightens George, exemplifies the enthusiastic tone in which the old man expounds (concerning details like the swamper's polluted gossip about Curley's glove). His awed tone describing "the eye" satirizes the flirting of Curley's wife, along with the accentuated shock of the creation of Curley's wife as a "tart."
Steinbeck creates the dialogue between the three men demonstrates the authenticity and "gritty" verisimilitude that he intends to create a realistic, colorful view for the reader. The swamper's eagerness to share any unheard gossip demonstrates the men's hunger for companionship, relating to the stable buck, Crooks', recurrent loneliness. The sick detail in which the swamper eagerly enlightens George, exemplifies the enthusiastic tone in which the old man expounds (concerning details like the swamper's polluted gossip about Curley's glove). His awed tone describing "the eye" satirizes the flirting of Curley's wife, along with the accentuated shock of the creation of Curley's wife as a "tart."
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451
"He still did not want outside light. He pulled out his igniter, felt the salamander etched on its silver disc, gave it a flick... Thomas Bulfinch, from Mythology, explains that "...the authority of numerous sage philosophers, at the head of whom are Aristotle and Pliny, affirms this power of the salamander. According to them, the animal not only resists fire, but extinguishes it, and when he sees the flame charges it as an enemy which he well knows how to vanquish." (Source: The Environmental Literacy Council) It is ironic that Bradbury purposefully chose a salamander as a symbol for the (second definition of) fireman. Considering that the firemen of that definition are required to start fires, Montag becomes like a mythical salamander when he summons the courage to rebel.
Two moonstones looked up at him in the light of his small hand-held fire; two pale moonstones buried in a creek of clear water over which the life of the world ran, not touching them. It is, again, ironic how Bradbury uses nature as an extended metaphor here, even though the people in Montag's world are so disconnected from the natural world. Like these citizens, Mildred is cut off from the world, as she sees it from her television parlor, as Bradbury cynically says, a true 'living room.' She is, in fact, a symbol of Montag's world, which he must let go of at the end of the book."Mildred!" Her face was like a snow-covered island upon which rain might fall, but it felt no rain; over which clouds might pass their moving shadows; but she felt no shadow. There was only the singing of the thimble-wasps in her tamped-shut ears...." Thimble-wasps (something like an earplug?) are also a large symbol throughout the book. They are representative of communication and connection between human beings.
Two moonstones looked up at him in the light of his small hand-held fire; two pale moonstones buried in a creek of clear water over which the life of the world ran, not touching them. It is, again, ironic how Bradbury uses nature as an extended metaphor here, even though the people in Montag's world are so disconnected from the natural world. Like these citizens, Mildred is cut off from the world, as she sees it from her television parlor, as Bradbury cynically says, a true 'living room.' She is, in fact, a symbol of Montag's world, which he must let go of at the end of the book."Mildred!" Her face was like a snow-covered island upon which rain might fall, but it felt no rain; over which clouds might pass their moving shadows; but she felt no shadow. There was only the singing of the thimble-wasps in her tamped-shut ears...." Thimble-wasps (something like an earplug?) are also a large symbol throughout the book. They are representative of communication and connection between human beings.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Jane Eyre: Guardian Irony
Why could I never please? Why was it useless to try and win any one's favour? Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish, was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled temper, a very acrid spite, a captious and insolent carriage, was universally indulged. Her beauty, her pink cheeks, and golden curls, seemed to give delight to all who looked at her, and to purchase indemnity for every fault. Georgiana gets away with "every fault," because she is attractive. This reminds me of a study I once read where more attractive women were more likely to be hired in interviews. Depressing, but true. John no one thwarted, much less punished, though he twisted the necks of the pigeons, killed the little pea-chicks,
set the dogs at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, and broke the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory: he called his mother 'old girl', too; sometimes reviled her for her dark skin, similar to his own, (It's interesting how Bronte uses racial allusion here.) bluntly disregarded her wishes; not infrequently tore and spoiled her silk attire, and he was still 'her own darling'. I dared commit no fault, I strove to fulfil every duty, and I was termed naughty and tiresome, sullen and sneaking, note the alliteration! from morning to noon, and from noon til night. Like Nick from The Great Gatsby, I can't help but wonder if things aren't exactly as Jane says- maybe she's exaggerating a little? Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I don't believe her, but her passionate complaints are almost unbelievable- or aren't they?
set the dogs at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, and broke the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory: he called his mother 'old girl', too; sometimes reviled her for her dark skin, similar to his own, (It's interesting how Bronte uses racial allusion here.) bluntly disregarded her wishes; not infrequently tore and spoiled her silk attire, and he was still 'her own darling'. I dared commit no fault, I strove to fulfil every duty, and I was termed naughty and tiresome, sullen and sneaking, note the alliteration! from morning to noon, and from noon til night. Like Nick from The Great Gatsby, I can't help but wonder if things aren't exactly as Jane says- maybe she's exaggerating a little? Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I don't believe her, but her passionate complaints are almost unbelievable- or aren't they?
Sunday, April 8, 2012
The Help
"Mister Raleigh Leefolt still at home this morning, which is rare. Whenever he here, he look like he just counting the minutes till he get to go back to his accounting job. Even on Saturday. But today he carrying on bout something. "This is my damn house and I pay for what goddamn goes in it!"Mister Leefolt yell. Miss Leefolt trying to keep up behind him with that smile that mean she ain't happy. I hide out in the washroom. It's been two days since the bathroom talk come up and I was hoping it was over. Mister Leefolt opens the back door to look at the truck setting there, slam it back closed again. "I put up with the new clothes, all the damn trips to New Orleans with your sorority sisters, but this takes the goddamn cake." "But it'll increase the value of the house. Hilly said so!" I'm still in the washroom, but I can almost hear Miss Leefolt trying to keep that smile on her face. "We can't afford it! And we do not take orders from the Holbrooks!" Everthing get real quite for a minute. Then I hear the pap-pap of little feetum pajamas. "Da-dee?" I come out the washroom and into the kitchen then cause Mae Mobley's my business. Mister Leefolt's already kneeling down to her. He's wearing a smile look like it's made out a rubber. "Guess what, honey?" She smile back. She waiting for a good surprise. "You're not going to college so your mama's friends don't have to use the same bathroom as the maid." He stomp off and slam the door so hard it make Baby Girl blink."
"You is kind. You is smart. You is important."
Aibileen, the narrator in this paragraph, quietly observes a scene between her two white employers and their daughter, Mae Mobley. The author bitterly emphasizes Mae Mobley's parents' social insecurity and how Mr. and Ms. Leefolt raise Mae Mobley is heartbreakingly indifferent- Aibileen sadly notes that Ms. Leefolt is often too concerned about her friends and social image that she rarely takes time to spend with her daughter, something that Aibileen tries to make up for by giving Mae Mobley her own positive influence. Later in the book, when her parents discover Mae Mobley teaching her brother how to play "Back-O-The-Bus" and "Drugstore Counter" (games that Aibileen have invented that cleverly instill antiracist beliefs), Mae Mobley shows the character that "Aibee" has taught her.
Aibileen, the narrator in this paragraph, quietly observes a scene between her two white employers and their daughter, Mae Mobley. The author bitterly emphasizes Mae Mobley's parents' social insecurity and how Mr. and Ms. Leefolt raise Mae Mobley is heartbreakingly indifferent- Aibileen sadly notes that Ms. Leefolt is often too concerned about her friends and social image that she rarely takes time to spend with her daughter, something that Aibileen tries to make up for by giving Mae Mobley her own positive influence. Later in the book, when her parents discover Mae Mobley teaching her brother how to play "Back-O-The-Bus" and "Drugstore Counter" (games that Aibileen have invented that cleverly instill antiracist beliefs), Mae Mobley shows the character that "Aibee" has taught her.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The Great Gatsby- Myrtle Wilson's Pitiably False Sense of Wealth
Mrs. Wilson had changed her costume some time before and was now attired in an elaborate afternoon dress of cream colored chiffon which gave out a continual rustle as she swept about the room. It's interesting to note that it's supposedly evening by now. Someone of true social status, acutely aware of fashion, like Daisy, for example, would never have picked an afternoon tea dress for an evening get together with friends. This shows Mrs. Wilson's social naiveness and also the shallowness of her ability to be a "rich person."
With the influence of the dress her personality had also undergone a change. The intense vitality that had been so remarkable in the garage was converted into impressive hauteur. Her laughter, her gestures, her assertions became more violently affected moment by moment..... It is interesting to note here that Myrtle is two different people. At the garage with her husband, she is ordinary, plain, boring, and essentially middle-class. With Tom, however, she becomes a new person, flirtatious and beautiful and on the surface, wealthy.
She told her sister in a high mincing shout, "Most of these fellas will cheat you every time. All they think of is money. I had a woman up here last week to look at my feet and when she gave me the bill you'd of thought she had my appendicitus out." The lack of proper pronunciation (saying "fellas" instead of "fellows" or "gentlemen", mispronouncing appendix) definitely would indicate to someone of Fitzgerald's era a large sign that Myrtle is really not wealthy- most wealthy people in the early 20th century talked educatedly. Also, someone like Daisy would never mention the cost of medical bills- the Buchanans don't care about who or how they spend their money- they're too rich to mind.
...... "I like your dress," remarked Mrs. McKee. "I think it's adorable." Mrs. Wilson rejected the compliment by raising her eyebrows in disdain. "It's just a crazy old thing," she said. "I just slip it on sometimes when I don't care what I look like." This section, actually, is quite hilarious. The reality is, Myrtle most likely begged for the money from Tom and went out and carefully bought it. The fact that she is trying to overtly sound like one of the upper class is humorous.
...... She turned to Mrs. McKee and the room rang full of her artificial laughter. "My dear," she cried, "I'm going to give you this dress as soon as I'm through with it. I've got to get another one tomorrow. I'm going to make a list of all the things I've got to get. A massage and a wave and a collar for the dog and one of those cute little ash trays where you touch a spring, and a wreath with a black silk bow for mother's grave that'll last all summer. I got to write down a list so I won't forget all the things I got to do."
Again, here Myrtle is overtly trying to sound like an upperclass lady. Then- the list making. Don't all rich people make lists? In reality, Daisy would have probably hired someone to make the list and then shop for it. Oh, Myrtle... you have so much to learn.
With the influence of the dress her personality had also undergone a change. The intense vitality that had been so remarkable in the garage was converted into impressive hauteur. Her laughter, her gestures, her assertions became more violently affected moment by moment..... It is interesting to note here that Myrtle is two different people. At the garage with her husband, she is ordinary, plain, boring, and essentially middle-class. With Tom, however, she becomes a new person, flirtatious and beautiful and on the surface, wealthy.
She told her sister in a high mincing shout, "Most of these fellas will cheat you every time. All they think of is money. I had a woman up here last week to look at my feet and when she gave me the bill you'd of thought she had my appendicitus out." The lack of proper pronunciation (saying "fellas" instead of "fellows" or "gentlemen", mispronouncing appendix) definitely would indicate to someone of Fitzgerald's era a large sign that Myrtle is really not wealthy- most wealthy people in the early 20th century talked educatedly. Also, someone like Daisy would never mention the cost of medical bills- the Buchanans don't care about who or how they spend their money- they're too rich to mind.
...... "I like your dress," remarked Mrs. McKee. "I think it's adorable." Mrs. Wilson rejected the compliment by raising her eyebrows in disdain. "It's just a crazy old thing," she said. "I just slip it on sometimes when I don't care what I look like." This section, actually, is quite hilarious. The reality is, Myrtle most likely begged for the money from Tom and went out and carefully bought it. The fact that she is trying to overtly sound like one of the upper class is humorous.
...... She turned to Mrs. McKee and the room rang full of her artificial laughter. "My dear," she cried, "I'm going to give you this dress as soon as I'm through with it. I've got to get another one tomorrow. I'm going to make a list of all the things I've got to get. A massage and a wave and a collar for the dog and one of those cute little ash trays where you touch a spring, and a wreath with a black silk bow for mother's grave that'll last all summer. I got to write down a list so I won't forget all the things I got to do."
Again, here Myrtle is overtly trying to sound like an upperclass lady. Then- the list making. Don't all rich people make lists? In reality, Daisy would have probably hired someone to make the list and then shop for it. Oh, Myrtle... you have so much to learn.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
The Great Gatsby
"He had changed since his New Haven years. Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body- he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage- a cruel body."
This is how F. Scott Fitzgerald describes Daisy Buchanan's husband, Tom. It's almost an oxymoron- a large, "hulking" (to put it in Daisy's words) man in a very girly outfit: flouncy blouse, blazer, tight jodhpurs, and shiny riding boots. To give you a visual picture:
This is how F. Scott Fitzgerald describes Daisy Buchanan's husband, Tom. It's almost an oxymoron- a large, "hulking" (to put it in Daisy's words) man in a very girly outfit: flouncy blouse, blazer, tight jodhpurs, and shiny riding boots. To give you a visual picture:
Not only is this slightly hilarious (Tom greets the speaker with a gruff, macho voice), but also a great use of foreshadowing in determining Tom's character. To say that someone has a "cruel" body? This implies that Tom's body has cruel intentions, which have already been shown when Daisy points out the bruise on her delicate finger, and a few chapters later when Tom punches his mistress in the nose.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
The Great Gatsby
As some of you might know, I am obsessed with fashion. I also love literature, which isn't surprising, considering both of them are high art forms. Never would I have thought that they would combine! Ralph Lauren, one of my most favorite designers, designed the costumes for the 70s production of The Great Gatsby. Below is a clip from the movie.
Now, this season, Ralph has brought the classic, French-inspired romance of The Great Gatsby to the runway, below. I haven't read The Gatsby yet, but am going to start right away. Lovely!
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Who's The King Of The Jungle?
So recently, I've started reading The Jungle by Upton Sinclair, and the extreme use of imagery astounds me. The gory, precise, terribly exacting detail Sinclair goes into... it's like watching a great episode of Downton Abbey. One of my favorite scenes is the wedding.... the way Sinclair describes it, it's like you're looking through a window- the surroundings and the character's emotions and actions are vivid and complete- almost like you are experiencing it yourself. Love this kind of writing!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Disabled People Are Like Giant Bugs.... maybe.
So, in Lit class, we all had to pick a "book-of-literary-merit-which-basically-has-to-be-written-a-bazillion-years-ago-and-is-all-about-life-love-and-death" book. Seeing the smallest of these on the table(which turned out to be Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis), I snapped it up. If I hadn't grabbed that one, I would have chosen George Orwell's 1984, since I love, love, LOVE dystopic society novels. Doesn't everyone love them? I mean, there's the Hunger Games (favorite book series ever!), and Twilight (oh, wait..... Twilight isn't a dystopia. Well, it depends on your viewpoint.)
Anyway, Kafka's book. It's pretty backwards of most books; since at the beginning, when the main character, Gregor, wakes up one day, he finds himself turned into an oversized cockroach- the climax. *Spoiler alert!* And so, he spends like half the day trying to get out of bed, and his family is all freaked out because they can't unlock his door and his voice sounds strange and he's taking FOREVER to get out of bed. When they finally discover what he is, they pretty much slam the door in his face and continue on like he never even turned into a cockroach. Only his sister takes some time in her very busy day (filled, hectically, with a crammed schedule of practicing the piano and fainting.) to blindly, eyes covered, grope her way into Gregor's room and drop a few morsels of food on the floor. Their parents just continue on like nothing ever happened.
*SPOILER ALERT!* Gregor ends up dying in the end (from malnourishment, a rotten apple stuck in his shellish-back-thingy, and most possibly heartbreak); and then, the parents are HAPPY. They're all like, "Oh yay! One child's done... just one to go!" And so... the ending is very anticlimactic in a sense because he dies and the rest of the family gets on a train. The end. But no... I think Kafka wanted us to get something else from it- an example of extremes. For example, when someone in society has something different or ugly to deal with, like a disabled person; we tend to just tuck him or her in a corner and throw a few morsels of pity in their direction. Maybe- is this what Kafka wanted us to understand? The ending is so anticlimactic... I can't know, or even tell if Kafka even desired it to be, or intended it to be, an ending... maybe it's more like a release, or a rest.......
Anyway, Kafka's book. It's pretty backwards of most books; since at the beginning, when the main character, Gregor, wakes up one day, he finds himself turned into an oversized cockroach- the climax. *Spoiler alert!* And so, he spends like half the day trying to get out of bed, and his family is all freaked out because they can't unlock his door and his voice sounds strange and he's taking FOREVER to get out of bed. When they finally discover what he is, they pretty much slam the door in his face and continue on like he never even turned into a cockroach. Only his sister takes some time in her very busy day (filled, hectically, with a crammed schedule of practicing the piano and fainting.) to blindly, eyes covered, grope her way into Gregor's room and drop a few morsels of food on the floor. Their parents just continue on like nothing ever happened.
*SPOILER ALERT!* Gregor ends up dying in the end (from malnourishment, a rotten apple stuck in his shellish-back-thingy, and most possibly heartbreak); and then, the parents are HAPPY. They're all like, "Oh yay! One child's done... just one to go!" And so... the ending is very anticlimactic in a sense because he dies and the rest of the family gets on a train. The end. But no... I think Kafka wanted us to get something else from it- an example of extremes. For example, when someone in society has something different or ugly to deal with, like a disabled person; we tend to just tuck him or her in a corner and throw a few morsels of pity in their direction. Maybe- is this what Kafka wanted us to understand? The ending is so anticlimactic... I can't know, or even tell if Kafka even desired it to be, or intended it to be, an ending... maybe it's more like a release, or a rest.......
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