Want Ad: A Good Man
Wanted: A good man, a man
who dresses like a man: shirt
pressed with collars and cuffs
neatly pinned down. A man
who offers gifts: a watermelon,
Coca-Cola. If he is wealthy,
all the better. I want a man
who knows he's not common, a gentle-
man, a lady-respecting man, a man
not afraid
to discipline children, a man
of whom I am
not afraid.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Critical Response to "A Rose For Emily"
Meanings for the Rose
Some readers might find the title of Faulker’s story, “A Rose for Emily,” ironic. As a Symbol, the rose generally signifies romantic love. According to “Flowerpedia,” a website created to inform flower enthusiasts of historical and cultural connotations associated with flowers, “roses are among the most admired and evocative of flowers.” Red roses, in particular, “are the traditional symbol for love and romance, and a time-honored way to say I love you." The color red holds significance; historically it is a “symbol for life” and a “metaphor for deep emotion.” The red rose can also be seen as a religious symbol; “In Greek and Roman mythology the red rose was closely tied to the goddess of love.” The rose further embodies love, or an everlasting love, due to its prevalent use in wedding ceremonies.
Assuming that Faulker is well aware of the rose’s symbolic meanings, why does he choose to name his story about an ill-fated and perverse love affair, “A Rose for Emily?” One possible reason Faulkner may have chosen this perplexing title is to present an ironic portrayal of the rose’s intended: the female lover. By calling the story “A Rose for Emily,” Faulkner causes the reader to assume this is a typical love story. Faulkner then overturns the reader’s expectations by offering an atypical heroine. Generally love stories involve a young woman, pure and beautiful, worthy of receiving love. In this story, however, the heroine is old and decrepit. The narrator explains, “She looked bloated, like a body long submerged in motionless water, and of that pallid hue” (468). Not simply unattractive, Emily also is considered an “old maid” by the townsfolk. For example, the narrator mentions how the town noticed she “got to be thirty and was still single” and how they considered her “left alone, and a pauper” following her father’s death (470). Due to her unfortunate looks and even more unfortunate fortune, Emily is portrayed as an object of the town’s pity.
In his story, Faulkner not only employs irony in creating its heroine, but also in revealing the type of love she experiences. Not until the story’s climactic ending does the reader discover with whom Emily “shares her rose” or her love. Roses, which typically symbolize an everlasting love, are appropriate for Emily considering how she has loved her fiancé, Homer Barron. When the townsfolk enter Emily’s house, they find a secret room, one that is both “furnished as for a bridal” and one that contains “A thin, acrid pall as of the tomb” (473). Here, Faulkner’s vision of everlasting love is first realized: marriage and death exist entwined. Faulkner, however, does not end here. He then goes on to show the true nature of Emily’s love, an everlasting love that endures after death. By situating the lover’s corpse next to “a long strand of iron-gray hair” belonging to Emily, Faulkner offers a situational irony: love, for Emily, flourishes only after her lover is deceased.
Some readers might find the title of Faulker’s story, “A Rose for Emily,” ironic. As a Symbol, the rose generally signifies romantic love. According to “Flowerpedia,” a website created to inform flower enthusiasts of historical and cultural connotations associated with flowers, “roses are among the most admired and evocative of flowers.” Red roses, in particular, “are the traditional symbol for love and romance, and a time-honored way to say I love you." The color red holds significance; historically it is a “symbol for life” and a “metaphor for deep emotion.” The red rose can also be seen as a religious symbol; “In Greek and Roman mythology the red rose was closely tied to the goddess of love.” The rose further embodies love, or an everlasting love, due to its prevalent use in wedding ceremonies.
Assuming that Faulker is well aware of the rose’s symbolic meanings, why does he choose to name his story about an ill-fated and perverse love affair, “A Rose for Emily?” One possible reason Faulkner may have chosen this perplexing title is to present an ironic portrayal of the rose’s intended: the female lover. By calling the story “A Rose for Emily,” Faulkner causes the reader to assume this is a typical love story. Faulkner then overturns the reader’s expectations by offering an atypical heroine. Generally love stories involve a young woman, pure and beautiful, worthy of receiving love. In this story, however, the heroine is old and decrepit. The narrator explains, “She looked bloated, like a body long submerged in motionless water, and of that pallid hue” (468). Not simply unattractive, Emily also is considered an “old maid” by the townsfolk. For example, the narrator mentions how the town noticed she “got to be thirty and was still single” and how they considered her “left alone, and a pauper” following her father’s death (470). Due to her unfortunate looks and even more unfortunate fortune, Emily is portrayed as an object of the town’s pity.
In his story, Faulkner not only employs irony in creating its heroine, but also in revealing the type of love she experiences. Not until the story’s climactic ending does the reader discover with whom Emily “shares her rose” or her love. Roses, which typically symbolize an everlasting love, are appropriate for Emily considering how she has loved her fiancé, Homer Barron. When the townsfolk enter Emily’s house, they find a secret room, one that is both “furnished as for a bridal” and one that contains “A thin, acrid pall as of the tomb” (473). Here, Faulkner’s vision of everlasting love is first realized: marriage and death exist entwined. Faulkner, however, does not end here. He then goes on to show the true nature of Emily’s love, an everlasting love that endures after death. By situating the lover’s corpse next to “a long strand of iron-gray hair” belonging to Emily, Faulkner offers a situational irony: love, for Emily, flourishes only after her lover is deceased.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Critical Response to "A Souvenir of Japan"
From an outsider’s point of view
In Japanese, there are two words that, loosely translated, mean “foreigner.” The first word is gaikokugin; the second is simply gaijin. If one studies the individual kanji, or characters, that comprise these words, one learns these two words do not, in fact, hold identical meanings. Gai-koku-jin is composed of three kanji, which literally translated, form the phrase “outside-country-person.” Gaijin, however, contains only two kanji, gai and jin, meaning “outside-person.” In the story, “A Souvenir of Japan,” the narrator admits she is a gaikokujin, a person from another country. She describes herself an English speaking woman, large and blonde, so different from the slight, dark Japanese natives who surround her. This narrator, though, is more than just a foreigner. Through inside/outside imagery and point of view, the narrator stresses how both the Japanese and she see her as an outsider. This perspective leaves no doubt that the reader is meant to view this narrator not as a person from a different country, but as a gaijin, an outside-person.
It is evident this narrator is an outsider by the physical boundaries laid between her and the “Japanese world” that surrounds her. For example, the story opens with the narrator saying, “When I went outside to see if he was coming home…” (266). This opening image, then, shows the narrator emerging from an interior, secluded world into the raucous, public one where children play with sparklers in the street (266). Such an image might, at first glance seem innocuous - perhaps the narrator was only inside for a moment; perhaps she feels comfortable outside and spends much of her time in the company of her Japanese neighbors. However, five paragraphs later, the narrator offers a more detailed explanation as to why she is first placed in this story within the confines of her home. In describing her relationship with her Japanese lover, she admits to having “…often appeared to be his wife” (267). This pseudo-wife role takes on significance when she offers this cultural background: “The word for wife, okusan, means the person who occupies the inner room and rarely, if ever, comes out of it” (267). This role is reiterated when the narrator describes her daily life as, “Once I was home, however, it was as if I occupied the inner room and he did not expect me to go out of it…” (269). The narrator, then, assumes the role that is assigned to her as an okusan; she lives in the interior, separated physically from the outside world. Ironically, it is the very nature of her physical separation that also causes her to be an outsider for the “real” Japanese world exists not in her secluded apartment, but in the streets and neighborhood she does not venture to experience.
The narrator further distinguishes herself as an outsider through her point of view. By carefully choosing pronouns, the narrator establishes four distinct perspectives. First, the Japanese people, in general, are referred to as “they.” For example, when citing a specific word, the narrator explains, “In their language, fireworks are called hannabi…” (266). Later, the narrator describes how her Japanese neighbors so diligently keep their streets tidy by stating, “…they all behaved so well, kept everything so well, and lived with such rigorous civility” (271). Contrasted to the “they” is the “we” in this story. The narrator only invokes “we” to represent herself and her lover together. For example, she states, “…and once we rode the train out of Shinjuku…” and “By the time we arrived at our destination…” (266). The first person pronoun, “I,” is reserved for occasions when the narrator refers to herself. When describing her place in the neighborhood, she says, “The entire street politely disapproved of me. Perhaps they thought I was contributing to the delinquency of a juvenile for he was obviously younger than I” (267). Finally, the narrator occasionally addresses the reader directly as “you.” For instance, when trying to explain her relationship with her lover, she confesses, “Well, then, you must realize that I was suffering from love and I knew him as intimately as I knew my own image in a mirror” (270). By sharing such “secret” thoughts directly with “you,” the reader, the narrator is creates another interior world. This is the world where she and the reader are separated from the “we” and “they” characters who inhabit this story.
No conclusion…yet…
In Japanese, there are two words that, loosely translated, mean “foreigner.” The first word is gaikokugin; the second is simply gaijin. If one studies the individual kanji, or characters, that comprise these words, one learns these two words do not, in fact, hold identical meanings. Gai-koku-jin is composed of three kanji, which literally translated, form the phrase “outside-country-person.” Gaijin, however, contains only two kanji, gai and jin, meaning “outside-person.” In the story, “A Souvenir of Japan,” the narrator admits she is a gaikokujin, a person from another country. She describes herself an English speaking woman, large and blonde, so different from the slight, dark Japanese natives who surround her. This narrator, though, is more than just a foreigner. Through inside/outside imagery and point of view, the narrator stresses how both the Japanese and she see her as an outsider. This perspective leaves no doubt that the reader is meant to view this narrator not as a person from a different country, but as a gaijin, an outside-person.
It is evident this narrator is an outsider by the physical boundaries laid between her and the “Japanese world” that surrounds her. For example, the story opens with the narrator saying, “When I went outside to see if he was coming home…” (266). This opening image, then, shows the narrator emerging from an interior, secluded world into the raucous, public one where children play with sparklers in the street (266). Such an image might, at first glance seem innocuous - perhaps the narrator was only inside for a moment; perhaps she feels comfortable outside and spends much of her time in the company of her Japanese neighbors. However, five paragraphs later, the narrator offers a more detailed explanation as to why she is first placed in this story within the confines of her home. In describing her relationship with her Japanese lover, she admits to having “…often appeared to be his wife” (267). This pseudo-wife role takes on significance when she offers this cultural background: “The word for wife, okusan, means the person who occupies the inner room and rarely, if ever, comes out of it” (267). This role is reiterated when the narrator describes her daily life as, “Once I was home, however, it was as if I occupied the inner room and he did not expect me to go out of it…” (269). The narrator, then, assumes the role that is assigned to her as an okusan; she lives in the interior, separated physically from the outside world. Ironically, it is the very nature of her physical separation that also causes her to be an outsider for the “real” Japanese world exists not in her secluded apartment, but in the streets and neighborhood she does not venture to experience.
The narrator further distinguishes herself as an outsider through her point of view. By carefully choosing pronouns, the narrator establishes four distinct perspectives. First, the Japanese people, in general, are referred to as “they.” For example, when citing a specific word, the narrator explains, “In their language, fireworks are called hannabi…” (266). Later, the narrator describes how her Japanese neighbors so diligently keep their streets tidy by stating, “…they all behaved so well, kept everything so well, and lived with such rigorous civility” (271). Contrasted to the “they” is the “we” in this story. The narrator only invokes “we” to represent herself and her lover together. For example, she states, “…and once we rode the train out of Shinjuku…” and “By the time we arrived at our destination…” (266). The first person pronoun, “I,” is reserved for occasions when the narrator refers to herself. When describing her place in the neighborhood, she says, “The entire street politely disapproved of me. Perhaps they thought I was contributing to the delinquency of a juvenile for he was obviously younger than I” (267). Finally, the narrator occasionally addresses the reader directly as “you.” For instance, when trying to explain her relationship with her lover, she confesses, “Well, then, you must realize that I was suffering from love and I knew him as intimately as I knew my own image in a mirror” (270). By sharing such “secret” thoughts directly with “you,” the reader, the narrator is creates another interior world. This is the world where she and the reader are separated from the “we” and “they” characters who inhabit this story.
No conclusion…yet…
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Creative Response to Lorrie Moore's "How"
How to Wake
Open one eye. Then the other. Reach for the clock that is always just beyond a stretch of fingers. Pull back covers. Fast. Warmth will rise from your body. Chilled, dark air - face and neck, any bare skin, cool.
Reach again for the clock. You do not need it now. Perhaps you never did. You always wake. Day after day. The death of dreams. This wake.
Open one eye. Then the other. Reach for the clock that is always just beyond a stretch of fingers. Pull back covers. Fast. Warmth will rise from your body. Chilled, dark air - face and neck, any bare skin, cool.
Reach again for the clock. You do not need it now. Perhaps you never did. You always wake. Day after day. The death of dreams. This wake.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Critical Response to “Roman Fever”
The following is a sample critical response...
Moonlight as Metaphor
In “Roman Fever,” Edith Wharton employs “moonlight” as a metaphor for romance, danger, and ultimately, to symbolize one of the story’s main characters. That moonlight should represent romance is not surprising. After all, light from the moon can only be seen during the night, a time typically associated with lovers. Wharton uses the moonlight metaphor in relationship with lovers three times in this story. First, the young daughters are reported to be on dates with Italian aviators; Mrs. Ansley speculates, “I suppose they’ll want to wait and fly back by moonlight” (111). Next, Mrs. Slade recalls a story Mrs. Ansley used to tell her involving a great-aunt who dies from malaria. According to the story, this aunt is sent out in the drafty moonlight by her sister “…because they were in love with the same man” (115). Finally, Mrs. Ansley reveals her own moonlight experience, a lover’s tryst with Mrs. Slade’s husband (118).
Moonlight is also associated with danger. Mrs. Slade explains the various types of dangers in saying, “’what different things Rome stands for to each generation of travelers. To our grandmothers, Roman fever; to our mothers, sentimental dangers’” (114). Here, Wharton uses moonlight to represent both the physical risk associated with nighttime excursions (e.g. catching malaria) as well as the possible societal risks (i.e. illicit affairs, tainting one’s reputation).
Ultimately, however, moonlight can be seen as a symbol describing one of the main characters in “Roman Fever,” Mrs. Ansley. Described as “Good-looking, irreproachable, exemplary,” Mrs. Ansley is not a striking individual (112). In fact, compared with her friend, who is “brilliant” and “vivid,” Mrs. Slade is called “the smaller and paler one” of the pair (110). Like moonlight, Mrs. Slade seems dull and understated compared to her brighter, sun-like friend, Mrs. Slade. Though Mrs. Slade is certainly the more outspoken and energetic character throughout the story, she does not hold the most power. In the story’s conclusion, Wharton subverts the two main characters roles by allowing the “paler” character to outwit and outshine her friend. That Mrs. Ansley answers the theoretical love letter and has living proof of the illicit relationship’s consummation proves moonlight serves as a powerful metaphor for romance, danger, and those who take part in both.
Moonlight as Metaphor
In “Roman Fever,” Edith Wharton employs “moonlight” as a metaphor for romance, danger, and ultimately, to symbolize one of the story’s main characters. That moonlight should represent romance is not surprising. After all, light from the moon can only be seen during the night, a time typically associated with lovers. Wharton uses the moonlight metaphor in relationship with lovers three times in this story. First, the young daughters are reported to be on dates with Italian aviators; Mrs. Ansley speculates, “I suppose they’ll want to wait and fly back by moonlight” (111). Next, Mrs. Slade recalls a story Mrs. Ansley used to tell her involving a great-aunt who dies from malaria. According to the story, this aunt is sent out in the drafty moonlight by her sister “…because they were in love with the same man” (115). Finally, Mrs. Ansley reveals her own moonlight experience, a lover’s tryst with Mrs. Slade’s husband (118).
Moonlight is also associated with danger. Mrs. Slade explains the various types of dangers in saying, “’what different things Rome stands for to each generation of travelers. To our grandmothers, Roman fever; to our mothers, sentimental dangers’” (114). Here, Wharton uses moonlight to represent both the physical risk associated with nighttime excursions (e.g. catching malaria) as well as the possible societal risks (i.e. illicit affairs, tainting one’s reputation).
Ultimately, however, moonlight can be seen as a symbol describing one of the main characters in “Roman Fever,” Mrs. Ansley. Described as “Good-looking, irreproachable, exemplary,” Mrs. Ansley is not a striking individual (112). In fact, compared with her friend, who is “brilliant” and “vivid,” Mrs. Slade is called “the smaller and paler one” of the pair (110). Like moonlight, Mrs. Slade seems dull and understated compared to her brighter, sun-like friend, Mrs. Slade. Though Mrs. Slade is certainly the more outspoken and energetic character throughout the story, she does not hold the most power. In the story’s conclusion, Wharton subverts the two main characters roles by allowing the “paler” character to outwit and outshine her friend. That Mrs. Ansley answers the theoretical love letter and has living proof of the illicit relationship’s consummation proves moonlight serves as a powerful metaphor for romance, danger, and those who take part in both.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Class introduction
Hi and welcome! If you've made it this far, you're realizing just how easy it is to become a blogger! For our first posting for English 1100, why don't we do some brief introductions...Who are you? What are you into doing? What do you think the class should know about you? I look forward to "meeting" you all!
P.S. Once you've created your blog, be sure to email the url address to me at erinn.j.bentley@wmich.edu. I will then link your blog to mine; soon we'll all be connected!
P.S. Once you've created your blog, be sure to email the url address to me at erinn.j.bentley@wmich.edu. I will then link your blog to mine; soon we'll all be connected!
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