To be honest, I'm glad I stumbled upon a unit based in dialect. This week, I'm reading the Brer Rabbit I Unit.
Brer Rabbit and the Calamus Root: Wow, this is a greater challenge than I expected. The dialect is fantastic, and I'm already considering trying my hand at dialect with my Storytelling post this week. In any case, the narrator seems to delight in Brer Rabbit's cunning.
The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story: These stories seem to end very quickly, and I wonder if it reflects the storytelling culture back then in regard to narrative structure. Then again, maybe it reflects how the endings of some stories are forgotten.
How Mr. Rabbit Was Too Sharp for Mr. Fox: I enjoy the back-and-forth between Mr. Fox and Mr. Rabbit when it comes to who possesses the upper hand. These stories seem to have a way to allow the characters to save face. For Brer Rabbit, he was able to avoid death through his cleverness even though he put himself in that situation to begin with.
Mr. Wolf Makes a Failure: I think that Brer Rabbit's strategy to fool Brer Fox has been to beguile him into believing a lie. With the Tar-Baby, the lie was that Brer Rabbit's worst nightmare was the brier-patch. With Brer Fox's feigned death, Brer Rabbit made him believe that his act needed some extra pizzaz.
The Awful Fate of Mr. Wolf: This story is surprisingly morbid considering that Brer Rabbit kills Brer Wolf in front of his own children. Not to mention, death by scalding water doesn't seem to be a fun way to die. I must note, however, that Brer Rabbit's trickery comes in the form of lying once again in this story.
Old Mr. Rabbit, He's a Good Fisherman: I'm starting to feel bad for Brer Fox. He didn't necessarily do anything to Brer Rabbit in this story, but he still pays the price in order for Brer Rabbit to get out of a sticky situation. I wonder if it's destiny that Brer Rabbit will always regain the upper hand.
Mr. Rabbit Meets His Match Again: The pattern here in the series of stories seems to be one in which Brer Rabbit becomes prideful in a way and then is humbled by his own fault. I also notice how the farm labor in the story reflects sharecropping of the time.
Mr. Terrapin Shows His Strength: I get the sense that this story was intended to show children that they should have respect for their elders. In any case, it's clearly a situation of brain winning over brawn. Still, I love the dialogue. My favorite excerpt is: "bless grashus!"
Plantation Proverbs: What a cool way to end a unit! I think some of my favorites are "Possum's tail good as a paw," "Don't fling away the empty wallet," and "De howlin' dog know w'at he sees."
Monday, September 29, 2014
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Keyboard Tech Tip
Here's a Dante-esque sentence that translates to "Through me one goes among the drunk people." Let's just say that I'm talking about walking to the stadium among tailgaters on game day.
Per me si va tra la ubriaca gente.
Per me si va tra la ubriaca gente.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Reading Diary Week 6: Japanese Mythology
For this week's reading diary, I make my way to the Land of the Rising Sun with the Japanese Mythology Unit.
Izanagi and Izanami: I notice that the beginning of the world comes from an incestuous relationship just as it does for the Greeks. However, I get the feeling that women were held in high prestige in Japanese society given that Izanami is the one to first address Izanagi. I also find it interesting that Wisdom, Valour, Craft, Justice, Mercy and Love are considered gifts from the gods.
The Miraculous Mirror: I love the teamwork here between the gods and goddesses to essentially trick Amaterasu into leaving her hiding place in the cave. This story also seems to reveal a few of Amaterasu's flaws, including vanity and a sense of fear.
The Heaven-Descended: The "return-to-sender" arrow moment in the story seems very similar to the concept in karma, especially because Amaterasu seems to put responsibility into the arrow by saying "but if he hath an evil heart, may the heavenly arrow fly straight to that mark."
The Fortunate Fish-Hook: Things seem to be going well for Ho-wori, who has picked up a wife on his quest to restore the magic fish-hook to his brother. I must say that the feast scene and aquatic royalty remind me of Disney's The Little Mermaid. The younger brother certainly does take his time to return the hook back to his sibling. Overall, this story is a bit hard to follow because of the similar names.
The Labors of Yamato- The Rescue of the Princess: I love the description of death as "black waves [that]. . . surged over his soul." I wonder if the siren will come into play later on; she seems to have disappeared from the story. Yamato seems to be a type of Trojan horse, but in this case, he's hiding the sword in the guise of a woman.
The Labors of Yamato- The Demon Boar: I'm surprised by the amount of gore present in the fight between Yamato and the evil boar. Looks like this animal isn't going down without a fight. The story seems to finish with the "tables have turned" type of move in which the boar is placed in the precarious position that Yamato was in.
The Labors of Yamato- The Sacred Sword: Losing an invincible sword isn't the best place to start for the hero in this story. Kwannon seems to play a role of circumstance by ensuring that Yamato can recover his sword by providing him with what he needs. Interestingly enough, it seems that Kwannon lets Yamato finish the job himself when the stag swims into the lake and the wolves retreat back into the forest.
The Faery Robe: Here's yet another example of an explanation for a natural phenomenon through the use of mythology. In this case, it's the fairy's relationship to the waxing and waning of the moon.
Urashima: I'm surprised to find a description of immortal living for a mortal. It's as if the elfin palace is a place where time does not pass and the day never advances. Wow, the story ends with such a loss of identity on Urashima's part. It's hard to imagine aging decades in an instant.
Izanagi and Izanami: I notice that the beginning of the world comes from an incestuous relationship just as it does for the Greeks. However, I get the feeling that women were held in high prestige in Japanese society given that Izanami is the one to first address Izanagi. I also find it interesting that Wisdom, Valour, Craft, Justice, Mercy and Love are considered gifts from the gods.
The Miraculous Mirror: I love the teamwork here between the gods and goddesses to essentially trick Amaterasu into leaving her hiding place in the cave. This story also seems to reveal a few of Amaterasu's flaws, including vanity and a sense of fear.
The Heaven-Descended: The "return-to-sender" arrow moment in the story seems very similar to the concept in karma, especially because Amaterasu seems to put responsibility into the arrow by saying "but if he hath an evil heart, may the heavenly arrow fly straight to that mark."
The Fortunate Fish-Hook: Things seem to be going well for Ho-wori, who has picked up a wife on his quest to restore the magic fish-hook to his brother. I must say that the feast scene and aquatic royalty remind me of Disney's The Little Mermaid. The younger brother certainly does take his time to return the hook back to his sibling. Overall, this story is a bit hard to follow because of the similar names.
The Labors of Yamato- The Rescue of the Princess: I love the description of death as "black waves [that]. . . surged over his soul." I wonder if the siren will come into play later on; she seems to have disappeared from the story. Yamato seems to be a type of Trojan horse, but in this case, he's hiding the sword in the guise of a woman.
The Labors of Yamato- The Demon Boar: I'm surprised by the amount of gore present in the fight between Yamato and the evil boar. Looks like this animal isn't going down without a fight. The story seems to finish with the "tables have turned" type of move in which the boar is placed in the precarious position that Yamato was in.
The Labors of Yamato- The Sacred Sword: Losing an invincible sword isn't the best place to start for the hero in this story. Kwannon seems to play a role of circumstance by ensuring that Yamato can recover his sword by providing him with what he needs. Interestingly enough, it seems that Kwannon lets Yamato finish the job himself when the stag swims into the lake and the wolves retreat back into the forest.
The Faery Robe: Here's yet another example of an explanation for a natural phenomenon through the use of mythology. In this case, it's the fairy's relationship to the waxing and waning of the moon.
Urashima: I'm surprised to find a description of immortal living for a mortal. It's as if the elfin palace is a place where time does not pass and the day never advances. Wow, the story ends with such a loss of identity on Urashima's part. It's hard to imagine aging decades in an instant.
Essay Week 5: The Trials of Teaching
I've been working as a tutor for about four years, and I cannot find the words to describe how useful the new Collaborative Learning Center in the library is. As the president and founder of a student organization that offers group-oriented academic help, it's our perfect habitat.
I bring this up because I gave a test review session last night in the CLC, and I tend to reflect on my effectiveness as a teacher the next day. With my limited experience as a tutor, I find the amount of diversity in students to be one of the greatest challenges. Whether it's diversity in ability or background, a teacher has to be able to adapt to the student's perspective. Last night, we had a setup that allowed me to do just that. Students were grouped at tables and were able to bounce ideas off of each other. That peer-to-peer interaction gives me the freedom to give students individualized attention without my feeling that I'm putting anyone in some sort of academic queue.
Last year, we utilized a lecture format in a large classroom for the test review sessions. While such a format allowed us to serve anywhere from forty to one hundred students at the time, it's comparable to casting a broad net. Students at the ends of the normal curve lose out. Some would leave early because they needed one-on-one help, and others would leave out of intellectual boredom. As a tutor, it's frustrating to watch that happen, and it makes one wonder if it's a reflection on one's ability.
Given the comfort I felt last night while tutoring organic chemistry, I believe we've found a better format for both myself and the students. The sessions flow more easily. The teaching feels organic, no pun intended. I'll be interested to see how sessions go down the line, but for now, I'm contented experiment with what the CLC has to offer.
I bring this up because I gave a test review session last night in the CLC, and I tend to reflect on my effectiveness as a teacher the next day. With my limited experience as a tutor, I find the amount of diversity in students to be one of the greatest challenges. Whether it's diversity in ability or background, a teacher has to be able to adapt to the student's perspective. Last night, we had a setup that allowed me to do just that. Students were grouped at tables and were able to bounce ideas off of each other. That peer-to-peer interaction gives me the freedom to give students individualized attention without my feeling that I'm putting anyone in some sort of academic queue.
 |
| Last week's test review session for Organic Chemistry I (Personal photo, taken September 8). |
Given the comfort I felt last night while tutoring organic chemistry, I believe we've found a better format for both myself and the students. The sessions flow more easily. The teaching feels organic, no pun intended. I'll be interested to see how sessions go down the line, but for now, I'm contented experiment with what the CLC has to offer.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Storytelling for Week 5: Blindsided by Reality
For two decades, I've seen with my ears and skin. Humming engines are my crosswalks. The greeting warmth on my face is the picturesque sunrise.The music and texture of the world have been my ever present guides. But today, I'll begin to discover what it means to see in color.
I've been blind since birth thanks to the stunted growth of neurons in my retinas. Modern medicine, however, has pulled through; today I'll become on of the first to try an approved therapy to stimulate cell growth. Simply put, I'll see the world with new eyes.
"When it comes down to it, you're pretty much the perfect candidate for this, Sid," the optometrist said when I came in for the outpatient procedure. "All signs point to your recovering without complications."
I smiled. This felt meant to be.
"You know, Sid, are you sure you're ready to see what the world has to offer?"
"Without a doubt."
~~~
Green. That's my favorite.
It's been a week since the procedure, and while everything remains an amorphous blur, I know what color is. They started out dull but then bled into my vision like the crescendo of a string orchestra. Color is the timbre of the visual. Yellow whistles like a piccolo. Red softly barks like the French horn. But green is different. It's lush. It's voice is one of a cello. What a gift it is to be able to hear colors as I learn how to see.
~~~
"Sharper" is how the doctor has described the change in my sight. That's certainly how it feels. It's almost painful. Two weeks after my treatment leaves me with the ability to distinguish shape and form, but it's not easy on the eyes. Everything looks the way sand feels. Gritty and abrasive. I tend to rub my eyes attempting to brush off the rough texture that coats everything I see to no avail. It's hard to describe how distressing it is when the smooth, flawless keys on my piano look as if they would rub my fingers raw if I were to play. I hate the incongruence.
~~~
A window of clarity open in the center of my vision yesterday, so I decided to open a book and see written language for the first time. Words are ugly. They don't do justice for the auditory beauty of language. Dead black ink on glaringly white paper. I try to avoid focusing on any certain object. The grittiness that permeated my vision two weeks ago has been replaced with a overwhelming blandness. Saltine crackers come to mind. I miss the mystery of when I only saw the world in color and not in form.
~~~
I see the wrinkles that cleave across my forehead. In incredible detail, I see how age has molded my face as I look in the bathroom mirror. Twenty years of vision has made me grown tired of the world. When I was blind, my imagination created what things looked like. They were my thoughts, my ideas. Vision has robbed me of that ownership. I'm only an observer now, not a creator. My favorite part of the day is the bittersweet moment before I fall asleep.
Sweet because I'll dream with closed eyes. Bitter because I know I'll wake up.
Author's Note: I used both the The First Encounter and Two More Encounters stories from the Buddha unit to create an representation of what it was like for Siddhartha to realize the presence of old age and death in the world. Since I plan to become a physician, I thought I'd create an analogy between gaining one's sight for the first time and losing one's naiveté. In the story, I put myself in Siddhartha's position and describe how I lose touch with joy and beauty. I really tried to capture the change in attitude that Siddhartha demonstrates in the two aforementioned stories.
Bibliography
The Life of Buddha
Andre Ferdinand Herold
1922
I've been blind since birth thanks to the stunted growth of neurons in my retinas. Modern medicine, however, has pulled through; today I'll become on of the first to try an approved therapy to stimulate cell growth. Simply put, I'll see the world with new eyes.
"When it comes down to it, you're pretty much the perfect candidate for this, Sid," the optometrist said when I came in for the outpatient procedure. "All signs point to your recovering without complications."
I smiled. This felt meant to be.
"You know, Sid, are you sure you're ready to see what the world has to offer?"
"Without a doubt."
~~~
Green. That's my favorite.
It's been a week since the procedure, and while everything remains an amorphous blur, I know what color is. They started out dull but then bled into my vision like the crescendo of a string orchestra. Color is the timbre of the visual. Yellow whistles like a piccolo. Red softly barks like the French horn. But green is different. It's lush. It's voice is one of a cello. What a gift it is to be able to hear colors as I learn how to see.
~~~
"Sharper" is how the doctor has described the change in my sight. That's certainly how it feels. It's almost painful. Two weeks after my treatment leaves me with the ability to distinguish shape and form, but it's not easy on the eyes. Everything looks the way sand feels. Gritty and abrasive. I tend to rub my eyes attempting to brush off the rough texture that coats everything I see to no avail. It's hard to describe how distressing it is when the smooth, flawless keys on my piano look as if they would rub my fingers raw if I were to play. I hate the incongruence.
~~~
A window of clarity open in the center of my vision yesterday, so I decided to open a book and see written language for the first time. Words are ugly. They don't do justice for the auditory beauty of language. Dead black ink on glaringly white paper. I try to avoid focusing on any certain object. The grittiness that permeated my vision two weeks ago has been replaced with a overwhelming blandness. Saltine crackers come to mind. I miss the mystery of when I only saw the world in color and not in form.
-1.jpg) |
| The disappointment of seeking words for the first time (Edited). Wikipedia Commons. |
I see the wrinkles that cleave across my forehead. In incredible detail, I see how age has molded my face as I look in the bathroom mirror. Twenty years of vision has made me grown tired of the world. When I was blind, my imagination created what things looked like. They were my thoughts, my ideas. Vision has robbed me of that ownership. I'm only an observer now, not a creator. My favorite part of the day is the bittersweet moment before I fall asleep.
Sweet because I'll dream with closed eyes. Bitter because I know I'll wake up.
Author's Note: I used both the The First Encounter and Two More Encounters stories from the Buddha unit to create an representation of what it was like for Siddhartha to realize the presence of old age and death in the world. Since I plan to become a physician, I thought I'd create an analogy between gaining one's sight for the first time and losing one's naiveté. In the story, I put myself in Siddhartha's position and describe how I lose touch with joy and beauty. I really tried to capture the change in attitude that Siddhartha demonstrates in the two aforementioned stories.
Bibliography
The Life of Buddha
Andre Ferdinand Herold
1922
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Reading Diary Week 5: The Life of Buddha
For this week, I've made the transition from Arabian Nights to Buddha!
Maya's Dream: I'm struck by the similarities between this and the arrival of Gabriel in the Bible to tell Mary that she will carry God's son. Even though I'm not as familiar with Buddhism, I'm willing to be that the happiness and peace that Maya feels after her dream is a representation of achieving Nirvana.
The Birth of Siddhartha: I wonder how the tree from which Maya takes a branch works as a symbol. Something else to note here is how peacefully the birth went and the motif of healing upon the birth of Siddhartha.
Asita's Prediction: The analogy of the branch makes more sense now that Suddhodana has mentioned his fear of his son's withering before he blooms. The take home message here is that Siddhartha will be the vessel of true knowledge, which is way of salvation from reincarnation.
Siddhartha's First Meditation: The validation of Siddhartha as the one to bring true knowledge is based on observational proof such as the stand-still shadow and his impressive knowledge of the scripts. The way he will change the world seems to be describable only in metaphor based on what the hermits say.
Two More Enounters: I'm willing to bet that these encounters arranged by the Gods in the city will be the impetus that fuels Siddartha's desire to seek true knowledge and free the world from rebirth.
The Fair Maidens and Gopa's Dream: I feel pity for Siddhartha; his awareness of the world now prevents him from seeing the beauty in it. I guess one could say that knowledge is a double-edged sword. One cannot become enlightened without facing the cruelties of reality.
Siddhartha Leaves His Father's Palace: It's refreshing to see Siddhartha's confidence and enthusiasm as he leaves to fulfill his destiny. The cinematic events in the story, such as the silent opening of the gates, help depict the peace that Siddhartha feels as he begins his journey.
Siddhartha the Hermit: I love the wisdom that Siddhartha imparts as he tells Chandaka to travel back to his father. In particular, the line "but heirs to his virtues are rarely found, are never found" resonates with me.
Gopa and Suddhodana Grieve: The lamentations of Gopa and Suddhodana remind me of the reactions after Jesus was crucified. There's such a sense of loss with Siddhartha's absence, but I get the feeling that he will be back to ease his parent's grief.
Arata Kalama: I find myself agreeing with what Siddhartha says regarding the uselessness of perfect austerity. It almost seems selfish, as Siddhartha eludes to, because it only guarantees the self to ascend to the sky.
Siddhartha Deserted by His First Disciples: I like the change of pace in the perspective on Siddhartha's ability to fulfill his destiny. People seem to give him such doubt for changing his approach, but wouldn't everyone want a spiritual leader to admit when he's wrong and be willing to change his actions?
Siddhartha Becomes the Buddha: Talk about a long-winded explanation for the cause of old age and death! It reminds me how if one clicks on the first click of a Wikipedia page and repeats the action ad nauseam, they'll end up at the page for philosophy.
Maya's Dream: I'm struck by the similarities between this and the arrival of Gabriel in the Bible to tell Mary that she will carry God's son. Even though I'm not as familiar with Buddhism, I'm willing to be that the happiness and peace that Maya feels after her dream is a representation of achieving Nirvana.
The Birth of Siddhartha: I wonder how the tree from which Maya takes a branch works as a symbol. Something else to note here is how peacefully the birth went and the motif of healing upon the birth of Siddhartha.
Asita's Prediction: The analogy of the branch makes more sense now that Suddhodana has mentioned his fear of his son's withering before he blooms. The take home message here is that Siddhartha will be the vessel of true knowledge, which is way of salvation from reincarnation.
Siddhartha's First Meditation: The validation of Siddhartha as the one to bring true knowledge is based on observational proof such as the stand-still shadow and his impressive knowledge of the scripts. The way he will change the world seems to be describable only in metaphor based on what the hermits say.
Two More Enounters: I'm willing to bet that these encounters arranged by the Gods in the city will be the impetus that fuels Siddartha's desire to seek true knowledge and free the world from rebirth.
The Fair Maidens and Gopa's Dream: I feel pity for Siddhartha; his awareness of the world now prevents him from seeing the beauty in it. I guess one could say that knowledge is a double-edged sword. One cannot become enlightened without facing the cruelties of reality.
Siddhartha Leaves His Father's Palace: It's refreshing to see Siddhartha's confidence and enthusiasm as he leaves to fulfill his destiny. The cinematic events in the story, such as the silent opening of the gates, help depict the peace that Siddhartha feels as he begins his journey.
Siddhartha the Hermit: I love the wisdom that Siddhartha imparts as he tells Chandaka to travel back to his father. In particular, the line "but heirs to his virtues are rarely found, are never found" resonates with me.
Gopa and Suddhodana Grieve: The lamentations of Gopa and Suddhodana remind me of the reactions after Jesus was crucified. There's such a sense of loss with Siddhartha's absence, but I get the feeling that he will be back to ease his parent's grief.
Arata Kalama: I find myself agreeing with what Siddhartha says regarding the uselessness of perfect austerity. It almost seems selfish, as Siddhartha eludes to, because it only guarantees the self to ascend to the sky.
Siddhartha Deserted by His First Disciples: I like the change of pace in the perspective on Siddhartha's ability to fulfill his destiny. People seem to give him such doubt for changing his approach, but wouldn't everyone want a spiritual leader to admit when he's wrong and be willing to change his actions?
Siddhartha Becomes the Buddha: Talk about a long-winded explanation for the cause of old age and death! It reminds me how if one clicks on the first click of a Wikipedia page and repeats the action ad nauseam, they'll end up at the page for philosophy.
Famous Last Words Week 4: Drowning in Applications
I'm sad to say that this is the first week that I've missed a Storytelling post. My favorite part of this class is my ability to have an outlet for writing, and I've loved taking the opportunity to challenge myself to retell stories in new styles and interpretations.
I'm not one to make excuses for myself, but I know why I dropped the ball. To begin, let me offer a metaphor to describe my life at college right now.
Imagine that you're a newly hired dog walker. Eager to get started, you head over to pick up your first client's dog. However, you discover that it's not just one dog. It's fifteen to be exact, and they're all hyperactive miniature dachshunds. (Trust me, I speak from experience when it comes to the dachshunds.) While none of them could over take you alone, together they constitute unpredictable collection of canines seeking to pull you every which way.
That about sums it up for me. I don't mean to complain, but these past few weeks haven't hesitated to add helpings to my plate. A few secondary applications for medical school flew into my mailbox. The university has nominated me to apply for both the Rhodes and Marshall Scholarships. The deadline for my Fulbright grant proposal has completely hit me by surprise. My independent study awaits its paperwork to be filled out.
There is light at the end of the tunnel, however. The scholarship applications require that everything comes in by the end of September, and medical school secondaries can't come in forever. I look forward to having more time to read and play accordion. I'm eager to break in my hammock during one of Oklahoma's rare, perfect autumn days. The key is too relax and take things one day at a time. For now, I'm lucky to have friends in my life who keep me sane and my priorities in check.
Here's to flying by the seat of my pants! Cin cin!
I'm not one to make excuses for myself, but I know why I dropped the ball. To begin, let me offer a metaphor to describe my life at college right now.
Imagine that you're a newly hired dog walker. Eager to get started, you head over to pick up your first client's dog. However, you discover that it's not just one dog. It's fifteen to be exact, and they're all hyperactive miniature dachshunds. (Trust me, I speak from experience when it comes to the dachshunds.) While none of them could over take you alone, together they constitute unpredictable collection of canines seeking to pull you every which way.
 |
| A tame version of my metaphorical college career at the moment. Wikipedia Commons. |
There is light at the end of the tunnel, however. The scholarship applications require that everything comes in by the end of September, and medical school secondaries can't come in forever. I look forward to having more time to read and play accordion. I'm eager to break in my hammock during one of Oklahoma's rare, perfect autumn days. The key is too relax and take things one day at a time. For now, I'm lucky to have friends in my life who keep me sane and my priorities in check.
Here's to flying by the seat of my pants! Cin cin!
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Newspaper Tech Tip
Here's my satirical clipping. You know, I'll probably use this application for my Storybook.
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| Image created using Fodey.com |
Friday, September 12, 2014
Essay Week 4: Storytelling as Time Capsule for Language
I never met my dad's father, but from what I hear, my late grandfather had a gift for oration that captivated his audiences. He knew how to weave words whether it came to congratulatory speeches or eulogies. Even thought I never met Jack, I find myself wanting to live up to that Morgan talent.
My journalist father seems to share his dad's ability to craft a tale. Through his blog, Dad has given life to stories that don't make it to the front page. He's written on my grandmother's feverish obsession with pecans. He's touted our cat's impressive 1-9 record when it comes to the litter box. He's marked the poignant occasion in which his mom sold his childhood home a couple of weeks ago.
I bring this up because storytelling hones the craft of speaking, and in the process, stories become heritable units of language. Just as we inherit our genes from our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc., stories are passed down from generation to generation and contain within them themes, diction, syntax and pronunciation.
This pattern of inheritance, however, is not limited to stories within families. Dante and Boccaccio come to mind. When Italy became a nation, a standard language was born-- a language that only two percent of the population spoke at the time. It was based on Tuscan Italian--that is, the Italian of Dante and Boccaccio. What strikes me most as a student of Italian is my ability to make sense of the stories without much difficulty. The idea that I'm able to connect with a form of a language that was spoken seven hundred years ago both astounds and humbles me. In my opinion, it speaks to the ability of stories and literature to anchor languages in a world that's drawn toward colloquialisms and slang such as YOLO and "getting turnt up."
My journalist father seems to share his dad's ability to craft a tale. Through his blog, Dad has given life to stories that don't make it to the front page. He's written on my grandmother's feverish obsession with pecans. He's touted our cat's impressive 1-9 record when it comes to the litter box. He's marked the poignant occasion in which his mom sold his childhood home a couple of weeks ago.
I bring this up because storytelling hones the craft of speaking, and in the process, stories become heritable units of language. Just as we inherit our genes from our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc., stories are passed down from generation to generation and contain within them themes, diction, syntax and pronunciation.
 |
| Italian storytelling for the ages. Wikipedia Commons. |
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Week 4 Reading Diary: Arabian Nights
Scheherazade: Wow, there's something so exciting about the way this Unit opens up! Scheherazade's confidence hints at her thorough cleverness, but at the same time, there's so much suspense with her life on the line. Also, the way in which she reacts makes her a very likable character right from the get-go. What bravery!
The Merchant and the Genius: I love the analogy between the merchant and Scheherazade both of whom find themselves relying on stories for their salvation! Not to mention the laying of stories in this work reminds me so much of the Decameron.
The Hind: I'm still trying to determine what the men mean by "the third part of the merchant's punishment." Perhaps it has something to do with a reference to the proposed murder. The question of identity for the son in the form of a calf reminds me of the story of Io in the Ovid Unit I read. Both that story and this one involve the eventual realization on the parent's part that the animal is his daughter, in the case of Io, or son, in the case of the old man's story.
The Two Black Dogs: Once again, we have another example of metamorphosis, so it looks like I choose a good unit with which to follow the Ovid units. A trend I'm noticing is that metamorphosis acts as a compromise between death and freedom for the wrongdoers in these stories.
The Greek King and the Physician Douban: Some of these stories feel way too familiar, and I'm getting a strong feeling that I've read versions of these in the Decameron. Speaking of which, I'm impressed with the amount of narrative layering that's going on in Arabian Nights. I also appreciate the clever way in which revenge is taken by the physician. It communicates a type of "eye for an eye" justice.
Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp: The scene in which Aladdin has the genie lock the groom outside reminds me of the story of Rinieri and Elena in the Decameron which a woman tricks a suitor and forces him to remain outside in the bitter cold to near death. In my opinion, the end of the tale of Aladdin seems to resolve too easily thanks to the genie, but I guess that's the perk of finding the lamp.
The Merchant and the Genius: I love the analogy between the merchant and Scheherazade both of whom find themselves relying on stories for their salvation! Not to mention the laying of stories in this work reminds me so much of the Decameron.
The Hind: I'm still trying to determine what the men mean by "the third part of the merchant's punishment." Perhaps it has something to do with a reference to the proposed murder. The question of identity for the son in the form of a calf reminds me of the story of Io in the Ovid Unit I read. Both that story and this one involve the eventual realization on the parent's part that the animal is his daughter, in the case of Io, or son, in the case of the old man's story.
The Two Black Dogs: Once again, we have another example of metamorphosis, so it looks like I choose a good unit with which to follow the Ovid units. A trend I'm noticing is that metamorphosis acts as a compromise between death and freedom for the wrongdoers in these stories.
The Greek King and the Physician Douban: Some of these stories feel way too familiar, and I'm getting a strong feeling that I've read versions of these in the Decameron. Speaking of which, I'm impressed with the amount of narrative layering that's going on in Arabian Nights. I also appreciate the clever way in which revenge is taken by the physician. It communicates a type of "eye for an eye" justice.
Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp: The scene in which Aladdin has the genie lock the groom outside reminds me of the story of Rinieri and Elena in the Decameron which a woman tricks a suitor and forces him to remain outside in the bitter cold to near death. In my opinion, the end of the tale of Aladdin seems to resolve too easily thanks to the genie, but I guess that's the perk of finding the lamp.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Essay for Week 3: The Power of Appetite
Whether it's sexual, physiological or intellectual, appetite is one of the most powerful motivators. It creates a vacuum of need that desire seeks to fulfill, and that feeling of emptiness is difficult to ignore. Throughout the stories in Ovid's Metamorphoses, a trend exists in which appetite--almost without fail--overcomes the character without much resistance on the character's part.
It's best to begin with the power of physical hunger, and thanks to his punishment from Ceres, Erysichthon's plight provides a effective literary example. Once he's been visited by Famine, Erysichthon finds himself completely unable to satisfy his physical hunger, and "the more he puts away inside, the greater his desire." This voracious appetite nearly commands him to sell everything he has to the point where he's even willing to sell his daughter. To avoid disaster for Mestra, Neptune intervenes eventually leaving Erysichthon to be destroyed by his own hunger in an episode of autocannibalism. In this case, the very presence of powerful appetite became the undoing for a mortal. Erysichthon would rather eat himself alive rather than die of hunger.
The same type of victory of hunger occurs in the story of Myrrha and her incestuous love for her father, but in this case the hunger involves sexual appetite. Interestingly enough, once Myrrha's nurse realizes what troubles Myrrha's mind, she even concede that Myrrha will be unable to overcome her misaligned passion. Ovid beautifully portrays this by describing the way in which "a shudder of cold penetrated the nurse's flesh and bone." Furthermore, once her nurse advises the Myrrha should refrain from killing herself and, in turn, satisfy her desire, the reader gets the feeling that nothing can be done to extinguish this misguided passion. The rest of the story plays out as one might expect.
Perhaps one should not be surprised that appetite is a consistent, formidable foe in Greek mythology. After all, one would need more than two hands to count the times that the gods themselves had fallen victim to sexual appetite and raped mortals. That, however, is one of the aspects that makes the Greek gods more human--more relatable.
It's best to begin with the power of physical hunger, and thanks to his punishment from Ceres, Erysichthon's plight provides a effective literary example. Once he's been visited by Famine, Erysichthon finds himself completely unable to satisfy his physical hunger, and "the more he puts away inside, the greater his desire." This voracious appetite nearly commands him to sell everything he has to the point where he's even willing to sell his daughter. To avoid disaster for Mestra, Neptune intervenes eventually leaving Erysichthon to be destroyed by his own hunger in an episode of autocannibalism. In this case, the very presence of powerful appetite became the undoing for a mortal. Erysichthon would rather eat himself alive rather than die of hunger.
 |
| For Erysichthon, any price is worth paying to satisfy his hunger. Wikipedia Commons. |
The same type of victory of hunger occurs in the story of Myrrha and her incestuous love for her father, but in this case the hunger involves sexual appetite. Interestingly enough, once Myrrha's nurse realizes what troubles Myrrha's mind, she even concede that Myrrha will be unable to overcome her misaligned passion. Ovid beautifully portrays this by describing the way in which "a shudder of cold penetrated the nurse's flesh and bone." Furthermore, once her nurse advises the Myrrha should refrain from killing herself and, in turn, satisfy her desire, the reader gets the feeling that nothing can be done to extinguish this misguided passion. The rest of the story plays out as one might expect.
Perhaps one should not be surprised that appetite is a consistent, formidable foe in Greek mythology. After all, one would need more than two hands to count the times that the gods themselves had fallen victim to sexual appetite and raped mortals. That, however, is one of the aspects that makes the Greek gods more human--more relatable.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Storytelling for Week 3: Dressed to Kill
The fresh blade slide effortlessly along his jawline. Yesterday's stubble retreated to reveal soft, exfoliated skin. Steam hung in the air and muffled every sound except the gentle splash as Herold rinsed his blade in the basin. Shaving was the zenith of his morning ritual. Standing in front of the mirror, naked, as he drew the hot blade over the pulse in his neck was the only time he felt vulnerable. Millimeters of skin between a morning shave and bleeding out. A slip away from death.
That vulnerability, however, intoxicated him; he loved living on the edge.
The only thing sharper than his razor was the way he dressed. Everything had to be perfect. The suit and its fit. The shoes and their shine. Every morning saw his transformation from mere mortal to unstoppable CEO. He had skillfully taken over companies, arranged exorbitantly profitable mergers and trained profit margins to jump at his command.
Such feats deserve recognition, he thought. The way he looked should communicate his power. He wanted his peers to feel his confidence wash over them. He wanted them to know that he felt as if he could carry the world on his shoulders.
To Herold, presentation was the Alpha and the Omega. Anything less was an insult to his impressive career if not life's work.
~~~
Freshly shaven and impeccably presentable, Herold strode out to his car followed only by his air of purpose and the fragrance of sandalwood cologne.
"Good Morning, Mr. Juniper."
"Morning, Peggy. You certainly seem too chipper for someone who drove me through three hours of traffic yesterday."
"Mr. Juniper, after all these years as a chauffeur and my marriage to my husband, there's nothing I can't handle. Although, I must admit I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off of you."
"It's the suit, isn't it? The wife gave it to me a week ago. It fits perfectly. I might just wear this to my grave."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Juniper."
~~~
The elevator doors opened to reveal Herold's impressive frame to the executive's floor. The percussion of his leather shoes upon the oak floor announced his arrival. The vice president and chairman of the board left their conversation unattended to eye the CEO's arrival. The two always took pleasure in mocking Herold for his attention to dress.
"Well, well, well. Look who got dressed up for the first day of school."
Herold rolled his eyes as he gave a muffled chuckle and passed the two to take his seat in his office.
"Wait, Herold. Where'd you get that suit?"
"The wife. To be honest, I can't believe she was able to get it fitted so well."
"Perhaps you shouldn't be so surprised. It's a fake."
"Pardon?"
"You have a f---ing tag sticking out of the back that says 'Made in China,' dipshit."
Blood drained from Herold's face. He reached around the back of the jacket, and sure enough, you could feel the rough, cheap tag peeking out from the vent. No word escaped his mouth as he drifted to his office and quietly shut the door.
Embarrassment. Shame. Betrayal. All were palpable as he felt his prestige chip away. Venomous mediocrity seemed to seep from the suit into his body making his blood boil with humiliation. His image--the very representation of his genius and expertise--was sullied by fabrication.
Wanting nothing more than to remove himself from the embarrassment, he dug his fingers into the left shoulder seam and tore the sleeve from his body in one swift motion. The other sleeve quickly followed.
Strips of ripped clothing and bits of string remained on the ground once he was done. Herold repeatedly folded and unfolded the "Made in China" tag in his fingers as he gazed out the window.
While he had shed the object of his shame, the scar of hurt pride remained.
Author's Note: Borrowing thematic material from the story of Hercules' death in the Ovid III unit, I decided to create a story in which a accomplished protagonist suffers a metaphorical death involving his image. I did my best to incorporate allusions to the original story through the way in which I describe Herold's suit and the way tears it off of his body.
Bibliography:
Ovid's Metamorphoses
Tony Kline
2000
That vulnerability, however, intoxicated him; he loved living on the edge.
The only thing sharper than his razor was the way he dressed. Everything had to be perfect. The suit and its fit. The shoes and their shine. Every morning saw his transformation from mere mortal to unstoppable CEO. He had skillfully taken over companies, arranged exorbitantly profitable mergers and trained profit margins to jump at his command.
Such feats deserve recognition, he thought. The way he looked should communicate his power. He wanted his peers to feel his confidence wash over them. He wanted them to know that he felt as if he could carry the world on his shoulders.
To Herold, presentation was the Alpha and the Omega. Anything less was an insult to his impressive career if not life's work.
~~~
Freshly shaven and impeccably presentable, Herold strode out to his car followed only by his air of purpose and the fragrance of sandalwood cologne.
"Good Morning, Mr. Juniper."
"Morning, Peggy. You certainly seem too chipper for someone who drove me through three hours of traffic yesterday."
"Mr. Juniper, after all these years as a chauffeur and my marriage to my husband, there's nothing I can't handle. Although, I must admit I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off of you."
"It's the suit, isn't it? The wife gave it to me a week ago. It fits perfectly. I might just wear this to my grave."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Juniper."
~~~
The elevator doors opened to reveal Herold's impressive frame to the executive's floor. The percussion of his leather shoes upon the oak floor announced his arrival. The vice president and chairman of the board left their conversation unattended to eye the CEO's arrival. The two always took pleasure in mocking Herold for his attention to dress.
"Well, well, well. Look who got dressed up for the first day of school."
Herold rolled his eyes as he gave a muffled chuckle and passed the two to take his seat in his office.
"Wait, Herold. Where'd you get that suit?"
"The wife. To be honest, I can't believe she was able to get it fitted so well."
"Perhaps you shouldn't be so surprised. It's a fake."
"Pardon?"
"You have a f---ing tag sticking out of the back that says 'Made in China,' dipshit."
 |
| The moment of truth for Herold. Wikipedia. |
Blood drained from Herold's face. He reached around the back of the jacket, and sure enough, you could feel the rough, cheap tag peeking out from the vent. No word escaped his mouth as he drifted to his office and quietly shut the door.
Embarrassment. Shame. Betrayal. All were palpable as he felt his prestige chip away. Venomous mediocrity seemed to seep from the suit into his body making his blood boil with humiliation. His image--the very representation of his genius and expertise--was sullied by fabrication.
Wanting nothing more than to remove himself from the embarrassment, he dug his fingers into the left shoulder seam and tore the sleeve from his body in one swift motion. The other sleeve quickly followed.
Strips of ripped clothing and bits of string remained on the ground once he was done. Herold repeatedly folded and unfolded the "Made in China" tag in his fingers as he gazed out the window.
While he had shed the object of his shame, the scar of hurt pride remained.
Author's Note: Borrowing thematic material from the story of Hercules' death in the Ovid III unit, I decided to create a story in which a accomplished protagonist suffers a metaphorical death involving his image. I did my best to incorporate allusions to the original story through the way in which I describe Herold's suit and the way tears it off of his body.
Bibliography:
Ovid's Metamorphoses
Tony Kline
2000
Monday, September 1, 2014
Week 3 Reading Diary: Ovid III
At the recommendation of a friend who study classics, I decided to continue with Ovid's Metamorphoses in Unit Ovid III.
Daedalus and Icarus: I like how the transformation of the human body in this story is the result of human intellect and innovation. This story seems a little more believable because of that, and I find myself intrigued by the fact that Daedalus' ambition to soar in the sky wasn't immediately punished by the gods.
Philemon and Baucis: There's quite a bit of character development at the beginning to set the stage of Philemon and Baucis' hospitality. Their joint transformation into trees at their death comes across as a romantic ideal, but the fact that the gods made it so helps avoid the bore of coincidence.
Ceres and Erysichthon: The image of blood pouring from the trunk of the tree captures the malice of Erysichthon in this story. I particularly enjoy the metaphor that is used to describe Erysichthon's beheading of one of his servants. Also, the voice that emanates from the wounded tree reminds me of the Forest of Suicides in Dante's Inferno!
The Famine: The description of Famine here is incredibly vivid; she comes across as the mythological Greek poster child for hunger. I appreciate the irony of Erysichthon's gluttonous dreams after he's been stricken by Famine, and I think the simile that follows brings the power of Famine to light. And what gore at the end with the autocannibalism!
Achelous: The two combatants in this story seemed much more evenly matched than I would have expected. As I noted in the first unit I wrote over, I enjoy how these stories connect to the origin of things--in this case, the cornucopia or "horn of plenty."
The Shirt of Nessus: This story involving Nessus seems to evoke the idea of karma in the sense that what goes around comes around. I wonder if the consequences would have been the same had Hercules not used an arrow dipped in lethal poison. Also, the story seems to take a stance on the danger of overthinking a circumstance as Deianira did.
The Death of Hercules: The description of the poison's effect on Hercules reminds me of the powerful string of the bullet ant. The ant's poison is said to cause pain comparable to a gunshot wound for at least twenty-four hours. At the end of the story, I like Hercules' metaphorical baptism by fire in which he ascends to the heavens upon "sloughing" his mortal form.
Birth of Hercules: If Galanthis' transformation is the origin of the use of the word "weasel" to describe someone as a falsifier, this is the first time I've heard of it! I like how lying is described as giving birth through the mouth; it evokes something false because such a feat would be impossible.
Orpheus and Eurydice: I wonder what meaning lies in the fact that Eurydice was bitten on the ankle by the snake; that area evokes an idea of tenderness if you ask me. If Orpheus' words were able to distract Tantalus from his insatiable appetite, I cannot imagine his eloquence. If I'm not mistaken, there's a reference to sexual relations between men at the end of the story; it would be interesting to get the historical context of that.
Pygmalion: "Art hides his art." What a simple, powerful way to describe the beauty of Pygmalion's creation. There's something slightly sad about his adoration of his creation. It's as if he's chosen a path to live with unrequited love. But, I suppose the question is this: is returned love necessary if one loves perfection? The answer might lie in the way in which Pygmalion reacts to the "birth" of the "ivory girl."
Myrrha: The dramatic irony created by Cinyras' lack of awareness of his daughter's incestuous love is quite powerful. It creates suspense in regard to how he'll react once he discovers what Myrrha means when she says, "Someone like you." Ovid's metaphor in which he treats guild as something conceived effectively highlights Myrrha's sin.
The Foot-Race: Venus makes herself out to be a sort of slighted victim in this story as a narrator. I also get the feeling that Venus placed the desire in Hippomenes to make love to his new wife.
Daedalus and Icarus: I like how the transformation of the human body in this story is the result of human intellect and innovation. This story seems a little more believable because of that, and I find myself intrigued by the fact that Daedalus' ambition to soar in the sky wasn't immediately punished by the gods.
Philemon and Baucis: There's quite a bit of character development at the beginning to set the stage of Philemon and Baucis' hospitality. Their joint transformation into trees at their death comes across as a romantic ideal, but the fact that the gods made it so helps avoid the bore of coincidence.
Ceres and Erysichthon: The image of blood pouring from the trunk of the tree captures the malice of Erysichthon in this story. I particularly enjoy the metaphor that is used to describe Erysichthon's beheading of one of his servants. Also, the voice that emanates from the wounded tree reminds me of the Forest of Suicides in Dante's Inferno!
The Famine: The description of Famine here is incredibly vivid; she comes across as the mythological Greek poster child for hunger. I appreciate the irony of Erysichthon's gluttonous dreams after he's been stricken by Famine, and I think the simile that follows brings the power of Famine to light. And what gore at the end with the autocannibalism!
Achelous: The two combatants in this story seemed much more evenly matched than I would have expected. As I noted in the first unit I wrote over, I enjoy how these stories connect to the origin of things--in this case, the cornucopia or "horn of plenty."
The Shirt of Nessus: This story involving Nessus seems to evoke the idea of karma in the sense that what goes around comes around. I wonder if the consequences would have been the same had Hercules not used an arrow dipped in lethal poison. Also, the story seems to take a stance on the danger of overthinking a circumstance as Deianira did.
The Death of Hercules: The description of the poison's effect on Hercules reminds me of the powerful string of the bullet ant. The ant's poison is said to cause pain comparable to a gunshot wound for at least twenty-four hours. At the end of the story, I like Hercules' metaphorical baptism by fire in which he ascends to the heavens upon "sloughing" his mortal form.
Birth of Hercules: If Galanthis' transformation is the origin of the use of the word "weasel" to describe someone as a falsifier, this is the first time I've heard of it! I like how lying is described as giving birth through the mouth; it evokes something false because such a feat would be impossible.
Orpheus and Eurydice: I wonder what meaning lies in the fact that Eurydice was bitten on the ankle by the snake; that area evokes an idea of tenderness if you ask me. If Orpheus' words were able to distract Tantalus from his insatiable appetite, I cannot imagine his eloquence. If I'm not mistaken, there's a reference to sexual relations between men at the end of the story; it would be interesting to get the historical context of that.
Pygmalion: "Art hides his art." What a simple, powerful way to describe the beauty of Pygmalion's creation. There's something slightly sad about his adoration of his creation. It's as if he's chosen a path to live with unrequited love. But, I suppose the question is this: is returned love necessary if one loves perfection? The answer might lie in the way in which Pygmalion reacts to the "birth" of the "ivory girl."
Myrrha: The dramatic irony created by Cinyras' lack of awareness of his daughter's incestuous love is quite powerful. It creates suspense in regard to how he'll react once he discovers what Myrrha means when she says, "Someone like you." Ovid's metaphor in which he treats guild as something conceived effectively highlights Myrrha's sin.
The Foot-Race: Venus makes herself out to be a sort of slighted victim in this story as a narrator. I also get the feeling that Venus placed the desire in Hippomenes to make love to his new wife.
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