To end my series of Reading Diaries, I've chosen the Dante's Inferno Unit for this week.
Dante and Virgil: Having read this in Italian, I find it so weird to see how the translation doesn't reflect the format of the original work. By format, I mean a representation of terza rima. I've always loved how Virgil introduces himself, "Not a man: but a man I once was." In this part, I can just see Dante going up to Virgil on his knees to show his respect.
Limbo: The idea of souls waiting on a shore to arrive at the place of their judgement is moving. It's almost as if they are disembarking from their mortal life. Wow, I never took notice of how Virgil describes the punishment for the shades in Limbo: "...we are only tormented, in that without hope we live in desire."
Paolo and Francesca: I love the constant warnings that emerge in Inferno, and another here comes from Minos. This part of Inferno seems to be the beginning of what I would call the prevalence of cameos. I still find it so interesting how literature is the cause of sin for Paolo and Francesca.
Fortune and Phlegyas: Vigril seems to give an impassive, neutral quality to Fortune, and that seems to be a response to so many people who blame fate for what happens to them. I do disagree with the punishment for the sullen; I am aware that it disregards mental illness, that is depression. Phlegyas seems to reflect the anger of the people he sails over.
The Furies and the Heretics: It goes to show that even the powerful Virgil needs help and confirmation from the heavens to continue his journey into Hell with Dante. You know, I wonder if there's meaning behind including the heretics within Dis.
Showing posts with label Reading Diary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reading Diary. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Reading Diary Week 13: Italian Tales
Given that I have already read both Dante's Divine Comedy and Boccaccio's Decameron, I decided to expand my tastes a bit by choosing the Italian Tales Unit.
Zelinda and the Monster: I'm surprised at how mature Zelinda is in terms of her willingness to sacrifice herself and take ownership for something that could easily be considered her father's doing. To be honest, I didn't expect the monster to change into a handsome young man because of his use of trickery to get Zelinda to acquiesce to marriage.
How the Devil Married Three Sisters: Wow, this seems to capture of the idea of "curiosity killed the cat." It seems the third daughter was gifted with a clever mind as well as curiosity. I find it interesting that this story ends with an act of humiliation for the devil.
Water and Salt: This story seems to revolve around the idea of putting one person in another's shoes. However, in this case, the daughter creates the physical act of her analogy to give meaning to her language. I will say that I'm not sure I understand why the magician had to be killed.
The Man, the Serpent, and the Fox: "The serpent replied that hunger did not observe promises." What a true and clever statement! I cannot help myself from laughing at the end of this story. I can imagine the look on the serpent's face! To be honest, I'm surprised that the serpent fell for such a trick. In my opinion, he became over confident based on what the greyhound and the horse said.
The Language of Animals: I'm noticing that characters in these stories do not take kindly to being insulted. After all, look at what the father orders his servants to do after he becomes humiliated. Plus, there's another example of deception when the servants kill a dog in place of the son. At least the new Pope was willing to forgive his father.
The Sexton's Nose: At the beginning of this story, I'm already feeling the sense of build-up. Perhaps this is similar to "The Woman Who Swallowed a Fly." Also, it seems that the sexton forces the offending party to make a choice. After all, they cannot replace a roast pea that has been eaten, for example. Wow, there is certainly an emphasis on sequence in this story.
A Feast Day: What an absurd story! It seems to comment on the art of storytelling since it references the "blockheads who are listening." I wonder if this falling into mouths business is a metaphor for being gullible.
The Cock That Wished to Become Pope: Well, it seems that hopes dissipated pretty quickly for Mr. Cock and Mrs. Hen. Perhaps they should have learned from the weasel and the cat by deciding to relinquish their desire to become Pope and Popess. At the same time, it seems the Mr. Cock is a bit foolish to believe that he can be Pope.
Zelinda and the Monster: I'm surprised at how mature Zelinda is in terms of her willingness to sacrifice herself and take ownership for something that could easily be considered her father's doing. To be honest, I didn't expect the monster to change into a handsome young man because of his use of trickery to get Zelinda to acquiesce to marriage.
How the Devil Married Three Sisters: Wow, this seems to capture of the idea of "curiosity killed the cat." It seems the third daughter was gifted with a clever mind as well as curiosity. I find it interesting that this story ends with an act of humiliation for the devil.
Water and Salt: This story seems to revolve around the idea of putting one person in another's shoes. However, in this case, the daughter creates the physical act of her analogy to give meaning to her language. I will say that I'm not sure I understand why the magician had to be killed.
The Man, the Serpent, and the Fox: "The serpent replied that hunger did not observe promises." What a true and clever statement! I cannot help myself from laughing at the end of this story. I can imagine the look on the serpent's face! To be honest, I'm surprised that the serpent fell for such a trick. In my opinion, he became over confident based on what the greyhound and the horse said.
The Language of Animals: I'm noticing that characters in these stories do not take kindly to being insulted. After all, look at what the father orders his servants to do after he becomes humiliated. Plus, there's another example of deception when the servants kill a dog in place of the son. At least the new Pope was willing to forgive his father.
The Sexton's Nose: At the beginning of this story, I'm already feeling the sense of build-up. Perhaps this is similar to "The Woman Who Swallowed a Fly." Also, it seems that the sexton forces the offending party to make a choice. After all, they cannot replace a roast pea that has been eaten, for example. Wow, there is certainly an emphasis on sequence in this story.
A Feast Day: What an absurd story! It seems to comment on the art of storytelling since it references the "blockheads who are listening." I wonder if this falling into mouths business is a metaphor for being gullible.
The Cock That Wished to Become Pope: Well, it seems that hopes dissipated pretty quickly for Mr. Cock and Mrs. Hen. Perhaps they should have learned from the weasel and the cat by deciding to relinquish their desire to become Pope and Popess. At the same time, it seems the Mr. Cock is a bit foolish to believe that he can be Pope.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Reading Diary Week 12: King Arthur
To reminisce over when I read The Once and Future King in high school, I chose the King Arthur Unit for this week.
The Drawing of the Sword: I like the dramatic irony that emerges when Arthur pulls out a sword that he never expected to be a trial to remove. I wonder if Arthur's naiveté is a part of his kingliness. To be honest, I cannot blame the barons' feeling angry that a child was chosen to be king by the sword.
The Sword Excalibur: I love how the relationship between Merlin and Arthur is developed into one of a father and son. For example, Merlin ends up teaching Arthur a lesson over the importance of his new gift.
The Passing of Merlin: Merlin's desire for Niume is one of the most humanizing aspects of his character. If not for that, I would say that a strong rapport could not be developed between he and Arthur.
The Quest of the Holy Graal: This introduction regarding the Holy Graal seems to be a cautionary tale of chasing what cannot be obtained. In this case, the Holy Graal is what cannot be obtained by human beings, but it also acts as a metaphor for the danger of one's dreams.
The Coming of the Holy Graal: In this story, it seems that Arthur has taken on the role of Merlin because he is the one who advises against the pursuit of the Holy Graal. I suppose his has gained enough wisdom to realize that the Holy Graal can be the wedge the drives the Knights of the Round Table apart. I think one of the most important lines in this story is the last one: "...and every Knight took the way he best liked." In my opinion, this seems like the perfect representation of how the core of Arthur's Round Table is dispersed in pursuit of something that cannot be obtained.
Sir Lancelot's Vision: It seems that King Arthur saw this coming. I find it interesting that the Holy Graal only came in the presence of Lancelot once he was defenseless for the most part. My favorite line in this story is "I marvel greatly at this sleeping Knight...that he had no power to wake when the Holy Vessel was brought hither."
Sir Lancelot and the Five Hundred Knights: I think it's easy for many people to identify with Lancelot. He seems to be the personification of resistant guilt. I get the feeling from him that he doesn't see a way to redeem himself for what he had done. However, the story hints that Galahad will be his salvation in some way or another.
The Adventure of Sir Bors: There's a trend that I am starting to notice in these stories, and it seems to be one in which divine intervention exists without a direct reference to God. To be honest, it reminds me of the description of the "Force" in Star Wars. But in this case, no reference is made to the cause behind what allows one to approach the Holy Graal.
Sir Lancelot and Sir Galahad: I am almost shocked to see a reference to God in this story. As far as I know, it's the first reference of the sort that I have seen. I feel bad for Lancelot since he has to return to Camelot where he discovers so many of his friends to be dead. However, it seems that spending time with his son has renewed him in a way.
The Drawing of the Sword: I like the dramatic irony that emerges when Arthur pulls out a sword that he never expected to be a trial to remove. I wonder if Arthur's naiveté is a part of his kingliness. To be honest, I cannot blame the barons' feeling angry that a child was chosen to be king by the sword.
The Sword Excalibur: I love how the relationship between Merlin and Arthur is developed into one of a father and son. For example, Merlin ends up teaching Arthur a lesson over the importance of his new gift.
The Passing of Merlin: Merlin's desire for Niume is one of the most humanizing aspects of his character. If not for that, I would say that a strong rapport could not be developed between he and Arthur.
The Quest of the Holy Graal: This introduction regarding the Holy Graal seems to be a cautionary tale of chasing what cannot be obtained. In this case, the Holy Graal is what cannot be obtained by human beings, but it also acts as a metaphor for the danger of one's dreams.
The Coming of the Holy Graal: In this story, it seems that Arthur has taken on the role of Merlin because he is the one who advises against the pursuit of the Holy Graal. I suppose his has gained enough wisdom to realize that the Holy Graal can be the wedge the drives the Knights of the Round Table apart. I think one of the most important lines in this story is the last one: "...and every Knight took the way he best liked." In my opinion, this seems like the perfect representation of how the core of Arthur's Round Table is dispersed in pursuit of something that cannot be obtained.
Sir Lancelot's Vision: It seems that King Arthur saw this coming. I find it interesting that the Holy Graal only came in the presence of Lancelot once he was defenseless for the most part. My favorite line in this story is "I marvel greatly at this sleeping Knight...that he had no power to wake when the Holy Vessel was brought hither."
Sir Lancelot and the Five Hundred Knights: I think it's easy for many people to identify with Lancelot. He seems to be the personification of resistant guilt. I get the feeling from him that he doesn't see a way to redeem himself for what he had done. However, the story hints that Galahad will be his salvation in some way or another.
The Adventure of Sir Bors: There's a trend that I am starting to notice in these stories, and it seems to be one in which divine intervention exists without a direct reference to God. To be honest, it reminds me of the description of the "Force" in Star Wars. But in this case, no reference is made to the cause behind what allows one to approach the Holy Graal.
Sir Lancelot and Sir Galahad: I am almost shocked to see a reference to God in this story. As far as I know, it's the first reference of the sort that I have seen. I feel bad for Lancelot since he has to return to Camelot where he discovers so many of his friends to be dead. However, it seems that spending time with his son has renewed him in a way.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Reading Diary Week 11: Canterbury Tales
Since I've studied Giovanni Boccaccio, who is considered an influence of Chaucer's, I have decided to read the Canterbury Tales Unit this week.
The Wife of Bath's Tale: The Unknown Bride: I love the challenge put on by the Queen! I know I would be under pressure if I were to have to discover what women wish for most. I find it interesting that the narrator makes the claim that "we women cannot conceal things." That almost seems to be the view of a man. I doubt she sincerely means that. The example she gives of Midas' wife also seems ridiculous. I get the feeling that this story focuses on how the sexes view each other. This story argues for the respect of women.
The Friar's Tale: The Story of the Summoner: I'm surprised to see that the fiend "plays fair" in a sense. He values the true meaning of what people say. It seems that the fiend plays a neutral role in this story because he needed the old woman to make the call to take the summoner into hell.
The Franklin's Tale: The Promise of Dorigen: Hmm, I wonder if this suitor will manage to find a way to deal with the black rocks that worry Dorigen so intensely. With the description of what the magician is showing Aurelius and his brother, I'm pretty sure the magician is using the aforementioned magical book. Yep, that was not too difficult to predict. Wow, I'm surprised at how much importance is placed into keeping one's word in these stories. Again, this story seems to end well for most everyone involved. I really enjoy the question at the end, as well.
The Prioress's Tale: Little Hugh: Goodness, this story certainly starts off with some morbid ideas. What a chilling thought to imagine a dead body singing a hymn. It's clear that this story is meant to incite anger thanks to the use of a innocent martyr.
Nun's Priest's Tale: The Cock, the Hen and the Fox: As I begin to read, I wonder if this story will concern itself mainly with the role of man. This is interesting; we have another story within a story here. I stand corrected. I wonder what roles dreams played in the lives of people who lived during the time of the story's writing. I like the lesson here regarding the vulnerable role one puts oneself in when he speaks.
The Wife of Bath's Tale: The Unknown Bride: I love the challenge put on by the Queen! I know I would be under pressure if I were to have to discover what women wish for most. I find it interesting that the narrator makes the claim that "we women cannot conceal things." That almost seems to be the view of a man. I doubt she sincerely means that. The example she gives of Midas' wife also seems ridiculous. I get the feeling that this story focuses on how the sexes view each other. This story argues for the respect of women.
The Friar's Tale: The Story of the Summoner: I'm surprised to see that the fiend "plays fair" in a sense. He values the true meaning of what people say. It seems that the fiend plays a neutral role in this story because he needed the old woman to make the call to take the summoner into hell.
The Franklin's Tale: The Promise of Dorigen: Hmm, I wonder if this suitor will manage to find a way to deal with the black rocks that worry Dorigen so intensely. With the description of what the magician is showing Aurelius and his brother, I'm pretty sure the magician is using the aforementioned magical book. Yep, that was not too difficult to predict. Wow, I'm surprised at how much importance is placed into keeping one's word in these stories. Again, this story seems to end well for most everyone involved. I really enjoy the question at the end, as well.
The Prioress's Tale: Little Hugh: Goodness, this story certainly starts off with some morbid ideas. What a chilling thought to imagine a dead body singing a hymn. It's clear that this story is meant to incite anger thanks to the use of a innocent martyr.
Nun's Priest's Tale: The Cock, the Hen and the Fox: As I begin to read, I wonder if this story will concern itself mainly with the role of man. This is interesting; we have another story within a story here. I stand corrected. I wonder what roles dreams played in the lives of people who lived during the time of the story's writing. I like the lesson here regarding the vulnerable role one puts oneself in when he speaks.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Reading Diary Week 10: Native American Marriage Tales
For this week, I chose the Native American Marriage Tales unit.
The Piqued Buffalo-Wife: I'm surprised that this story starts with a situation of bestiality right out of the gate, but perhaps it's wrong of me to label it in such a way. I like how the situation has flipped when the father has to pick out his child out of the rest of the buffalo calves. I'm also surprised that the story ended relatively well for the family despite the father's mistake.
Splinter-Foot Girl: I love the variety of ways in which life is created in these stories. It reminds me a bit of some of the origin stories I read in the Ovid units. Also, the intervention of animals in this story as messengers strikes me as fascinating. It's as if trust is put into them to carry on the correct message. The image of buffalo bulls burrowing through the ground is quite impressive! I get the feeling that this was a story to set the order of nature--that is, set who holds dominion over whom.
The Fox-Woman: There seems to be a similarity to this story and the stories told in the Eskimo unit, because an animal's skin is considered a fundamental part of its form. Although, it seems that smell remains with the life-form no matter what shape it takes.
The Rolling Head: There's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I'm not used to seeing stories that involve a man killing his wife. And I just read that the children were fed the meat of their mother! I wonder what it would be like to be followed by the head of my deceased mother. Well, I guess a rolling head gathers no moss.
The Bear-Woman: It seems to be a consistent pattern that any marriage to an animals in these stories involves the mention of sexual acts between the human and animal lovers. The action in these stories seems to change without a moment's notice. The Bear-Woman could have been a little more direct by stating the touching of her kidneys would have dire consequences.
The Piqued Buffalo-Wife: I'm surprised that this story starts with a situation of bestiality right out of the gate, but perhaps it's wrong of me to label it in such a way. I like how the situation has flipped when the father has to pick out his child out of the rest of the buffalo calves. I'm also surprised that the story ended relatively well for the family despite the father's mistake.
Splinter-Foot Girl: I love the variety of ways in which life is created in these stories. It reminds me a bit of some of the origin stories I read in the Ovid units. Also, the intervention of animals in this story as messengers strikes me as fascinating. It's as if trust is put into them to carry on the correct message. The image of buffalo bulls burrowing through the ground is quite impressive! I get the feeling that this was a story to set the order of nature--that is, set who holds dominion over whom.
The Fox-Woman: There seems to be a similarity to this story and the stories told in the Eskimo unit, because an animal's skin is considered a fundamental part of its form. Although, it seems that smell remains with the life-form no matter what shape it takes.
The Rolling Head: There's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I'm not used to seeing stories that involve a man killing his wife. And I just read that the children were fed the meat of their mother! I wonder what it would be like to be followed by the head of my deceased mother. Well, I guess a rolling head gathers no moss.
The Bear-Woman: It seems to be a consistent pattern that any marriage to an animals in these stories involves the mention of sexual acts between the human and animal lovers. The action in these stories seems to change without a moment's notice. The Bear-Woman could have been a little more direct by stating the touching of her kidneys would have dire consequences.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Reading Diary Week 9: Eskimo Folk-Tales
Given the arrival of cooler weather, I thought it would be appropriate to choose the Eskimo Folk-Tales unit for this week's reading.
The Coming of Men, A Long, Long While Ago: I love how death is treated in this story. I never thought to imagine death as something to learn, and here it is depicted as a necessary, unavoidable part of life. One of my favorite lines is "They did not know how to story their words into little black marks as you do." Another thing to notice is that the story of origin focuses on discovery rather than birth.
Nukúnguasik, who Escaped from the Tupilak: The description of the Tupilak is pretty creepy in this story, and I think part of that observation is based on the fact that the description is a bit vague. Also, I was surprised to see that Nukúnguasik was willing to lead his brothers to where the middle brother died of fright.
Isigâligârssik: I wonder if there's a pattern of having trickery within stories that deal with native culture. I noticed the same thing in the Brer Rabbit unit. There is also a strong sense of revenge, but in this case, the revenge does not seem to be one fueled by malice.
Makíte: I nearly feel that this story lacks a resolution. Makíte kills a man and subsequently suffers no punishment for it. Plus, as a reader I'm left wondering what the lone-dweller was talking about before he was killed at the hands of Makíte. I get the feeling that I would need quite a bit of cultural context to understand this story.
The Giant Dog: I wonder why there is such an attention placed on "inland-dwellers" in this unit. Also, most of the stories imply that the narrator does not know everything. He or she seems to admit that they only have a fraction of the story, because they end every tale with a variation of "that is all I know."
Papik, Who Killed His Wife's Brother: I like the emphasis put on the value of not killing a fellow man. Once again, there's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I wonder if such stories were told to children as well. It's hard to get an idea of how taboo violence was in the Eskimo culture. Also, dying does not seem to be a terrible thing in this story.
The Wife Who Lied: The culture certainly takes lying seriously! Then again, she did cause the death of nearly all the women in their town. One of the most vivid parts in this story is the description of how the women literally worked their fingers to the bone while making the arrows.
Atdlarneq, The Great Glutton: I'm nearly surprised to see that no one died in this story! I expected the master of the house to feed Atdlarneq to death to punish him for his hubris of entering his home. The one thing that makes no sense at all is the description of copper cheeks. At first, I thought it was a way to describe the color, but it seems that the copper cheeks would be able to give quite the beating.
Tungujuluk and Saunikoq: I find it interesting that the act of taking the form of an animal requires the skin of that animal. In the very least, it is described as such. This story seems similar to the one involving Atdlarneq because the punishment is in the form of humiliation.
The Coming of Men, A Long, Long While Ago: I love how death is treated in this story. I never thought to imagine death as something to learn, and here it is depicted as a necessary, unavoidable part of life. One of my favorite lines is "They did not know how to story their words into little black marks as you do." Another thing to notice is that the story of origin focuses on discovery rather than birth.
Nukúnguasik, who Escaped from the Tupilak: The description of the Tupilak is pretty creepy in this story, and I think part of that observation is based on the fact that the description is a bit vague. Also, I was surprised to see that Nukúnguasik was willing to lead his brothers to where the middle brother died of fright.
Isigâligârssik: I wonder if there's a pattern of having trickery within stories that deal with native culture. I noticed the same thing in the Brer Rabbit unit. There is also a strong sense of revenge, but in this case, the revenge does not seem to be one fueled by malice.
Makíte: I nearly feel that this story lacks a resolution. Makíte kills a man and subsequently suffers no punishment for it. Plus, as a reader I'm left wondering what the lone-dweller was talking about before he was killed at the hands of Makíte. I get the feeling that I would need quite a bit of cultural context to understand this story.
The Giant Dog: I wonder why there is such an attention placed on "inland-dwellers" in this unit. Also, most of the stories imply that the narrator does not know everything. He or she seems to admit that they only have a fraction of the story, because they end every tale with a variation of "that is all I know."
Papik, Who Killed His Wife's Brother: I like the emphasis put on the value of not killing a fellow man. Once again, there's quite a bit of gore in this story, and I wonder if such stories were told to children as well. It's hard to get an idea of how taboo violence was in the Eskimo culture. Also, dying does not seem to be a terrible thing in this story.
The Wife Who Lied: The culture certainly takes lying seriously! Then again, she did cause the death of nearly all the women in their town. One of the most vivid parts in this story is the description of how the women literally worked their fingers to the bone while making the arrows.
Atdlarneq, The Great Glutton: I'm nearly surprised to see that no one died in this story! I expected the master of the house to feed Atdlarneq to death to punish him for his hubris of entering his home. The one thing that makes no sense at all is the description of copper cheeks. At first, I thought it was a way to describe the color, but it seems that the copper cheeks would be able to give quite the beating.
Tungujuluk and Saunikoq: I find it interesting that the act of taking the form of an animal requires the skin of that animal. In the very least, it is described as such. This story seems similar to the one involving Atdlarneq because the punishment is in the form of humiliation.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Reading Diary Assessment
Having read through my Reading Diaries again, I notice that I pretty much stick with the same format. I read through the stories in order and list my thoughts after each one. For the most part, all of the posts are around the same length.
One consistent pattern I notice is that I tend to look for common themes and patterns between different units. For example, in the Japanese Mythology Unit, I mention how many of the stories have an incestuous undertone that is also demonstrated in the Ovid Units over Greek mythology. I'm not surprised to see such a trend, because I try to have the same perspective when it comes to how other areas of knowledge connect in my own learning. However, I seem to make even stronger observations between stories within a whole unit. I guess I preoccupy myself with the overall message of the author.
Also, I tend to focus on my thoughts and reflections rather than the content of the plot. In my opinion, that's the purpose of a reading diary. Otherwise, the post just becomes a regurgitation of what is already written. My Reading Diaries seem to relatively useful for jogging my memory of how I had interpreted a story when I was in the act of reading it.
When it comes to how much the reading I remember, I will say that I am very able to recall how I felt when I was reading a certain story. I remember the impressions I generated, and I believe that reflects the way in which I have been doing the reading diaries. Since I focus on my own thoughts, I find it much easier to bring how I connected with the reading into discussion. Perhaps that's not the best result, but I enjoy being able to discuss stories in a way that communicates who I am.
One consistent pattern I notice is that I tend to look for common themes and patterns between different units. For example, in the Japanese Mythology Unit, I mention how many of the stories have an incestuous undertone that is also demonstrated in the Ovid Units over Greek mythology. I'm not surprised to see such a trend, because I try to have the same perspective when it comes to how other areas of knowledge connect in my own learning. However, I seem to make even stronger observations between stories within a whole unit. I guess I preoccupy myself with the overall message of the author.
Also, I tend to focus on my thoughts and reflections rather than the content of the plot. In my opinion, that's the purpose of a reading diary. Otherwise, the post just becomes a regurgitation of what is already written. My Reading Diaries seem to relatively useful for jogging my memory of how I had interpreted a story when I was in the act of reading it.
When it comes to how much the reading I remember, I will say that I am very able to recall how I felt when I was reading a certain story. I remember the impressions I generated, and I believe that reflects the way in which I have been doing the reading diaries. Since I focus on my own thoughts, I find it much easier to bring how I connected with the reading into discussion. Perhaps that's not the best result, but I enjoy being able to discuss stories in a way that communicates who I am.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Reading Diary Week 7: Brer Rabbit I
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."
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."
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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Week 2 Reading Diary: Ovid I
For my first Reading Diary, I delve into the first books of Ovid's Metamorphoses in Unit Ovid I.
Deucalion and Pyrrha: This story makes me think of some sort of mixture of the account of Noah's Ark and the story of Genesis in the Bible. After all, the surface of the Earth is destroyed because of a god's anger, and the flood involves the escape of a duo--that is, Deucalion and Pyrrha. I would even say that the scattering of Pyrrha's mother's bones evokes Abraham's attempted sacrifice of his child at the order of God.
Io: Is there anything more common than rape in Greek mythology? In any case, this story brings to mind the question of what makes someone human. Can Io be considered a human in her animalistic form? Maybe it comes down to the ability to identify oneself, as Io did for her father.
Phaethon and the Sun: I LOVE the explanation of the etymology of "phaethon" in the introduction. My dad's a journalist with quite the penchant for etymology, and it's rubbed off on me a bit. I'm starting to notice a pattern in these stories in regard to the conflict between logical warnings and promises. Just as Juno only calmed down after Jupiter swore Io wouldn't be a source of pain, Phoebus was forced to let Phaethon drive the chariot after having sworn to grant him what he wanted. As Phaethon prepares to ride, I enjoy how Phoebus offers an explanation that fits with how the Greeks viewed their world in regard to the rising and setting of the sun. Interestingly enough, the distance between the Earth and the Sun is important in ensuring a inhabitable temperature, and the described consequences of Phaethon's veering off course certainly is defendable. With the death of Phaethon, a series of transformations commences, one of which reminds me of the Forest of Suicides in Canto XIII Dante's Inferno. For example, when Clymene tries to remove the bark from her daughters, she ends up wounding them.
Callisto: I like the redemption of Callisto in this story. At first she's sent away by Diana for the shame of carrying a child and eventually is turned into a bear. Jupiter's response is to place them in the heavens as a way to save them from death. However, it might be too much to say that Jupiter felt that he was to blame.
Semele: Once again, we find an example in which a god is bound by a promise thus introducing a problem in the story. Poor Semele couldn't have known the consequences of her request. On another note, I find Jupiter's 'pregnancy' interesting because it might reflect ideas of how gestation worked at the time of the writing of the story. To be honest, it reminds me of how male seahorses carry offspring to term!
Echo: I find it interesting how simple disagreements between gods can become, in a way, statements on fundamental observations in life. Something as innocent as what Jupiter said needed to be tested over the course of years to reach a verdict. Plus, these explanations for natural events seem so mechanical, and I don't mean to assign a negative connotation to that. Rather, I could say that they make logical sense.
Narcissus: The comparison of Narcissus' features to features of the Olympians seems to be a salute to their perfect form. The quote "What I want I have. My riches make me poorer" draws out the paradox between the relationship of love and beauty. If one is of perfect form, how could they ever be satisfied with anything less? And for Narcissus, love for the perfect form literally becomes a reflection of himself.
Pyramus and Thisbe: I immediately thought of Maximillian and Valentine from The Count of Monte Cristo when I read "So they talked, hopelessly, sitting opposite, saying, as night fell, 'Farewell,' each touching the wall with kisses that could not reach the other side." The scene evokes the conversations Maximillian and Valentine shared across the garden wall outside Villefort's mansion. As a point of contrast, however, dramatic irony exists in Ovid's story whereas in The Count of Monte Cristo the reader believes Valentine dies of poisoning.
Mars and Venus: As short as this story is, it reminds me of some novellas in the Decameron in which one character puts another to shame in return for being wronged by the second.
Perseus and Andromeda: Once again, there's an explanation of origin when it comes to where certain species of serpents came from. I must say that I'm a bit surprised by how nonchalant Perseus seems to be when it comes to taking Andromeda as a prize and placing her parents in a position where they cannot willing refuse his offer.
Perseus and Medusa: Man, Ovid has a very way of slipping those explanations for parts of nature as he does with coral in this story. Once he states it, he moves on. My only complaint about this story is its lack of suspense. From the beginning it seems that it's presumed that Perseus will be victorious.
Deucalion and Pyrrha: This story makes me think of some sort of mixture of the account of Noah's Ark and the story of Genesis in the Bible. After all, the surface of the Earth is destroyed because of a god's anger, and the flood involves the escape of a duo--that is, Deucalion and Pyrrha. I would even say that the scattering of Pyrrha's mother's bones evokes Abraham's attempted sacrifice of his child at the order of God.
Io: Is there anything more common than rape in Greek mythology? In any case, this story brings to mind the question of what makes someone human. Can Io be considered a human in her animalistic form? Maybe it comes down to the ability to identify oneself, as Io did for her father.
Phaethon and the Sun: I LOVE the explanation of the etymology of "phaethon" in the introduction. My dad's a journalist with quite the penchant for etymology, and it's rubbed off on me a bit. I'm starting to notice a pattern in these stories in regard to the conflict between logical warnings and promises. Just as Juno only calmed down after Jupiter swore Io wouldn't be a source of pain, Phoebus was forced to let Phaethon drive the chariot after having sworn to grant him what he wanted. As Phaethon prepares to ride, I enjoy how Phoebus offers an explanation that fits with how the Greeks viewed their world in regard to the rising and setting of the sun. Interestingly enough, the distance between the Earth and the Sun is important in ensuring a inhabitable temperature, and the described consequences of Phaethon's veering off course certainly is defendable. With the death of Phaethon, a series of transformations commences, one of which reminds me of the Forest of Suicides in Canto XIII Dante's Inferno. For example, when Clymene tries to remove the bark from her daughters, she ends up wounding them.
Callisto: I like the redemption of Callisto in this story. At first she's sent away by Diana for the shame of carrying a child and eventually is turned into a bear. Jupiter's response is to place them in the heavens as a way to save them from death. However, it might be too much to say that Jupiter felt that he was to blame.
Semele: Once again, we find an example in which a god is bound by a promise thus introducing a problem in the story. Poor Semele couldn't have known the consequences of her request. On another note, I find Jupiter's 'pregnancy' interesting because it might reflect ideas of how gestation worked at the time of the writing of the story. To be honest, it reminds me of how male seahorses carry offspring to term!
Echo: I find it interesting how simple disagreements between gods can become, in a way, statements on fundamental observations in life. Something as innocent as what Jupiter said needed to be tested over the course of years to reach a verdict. Plus, these explanations for natural events seem so mechanical, and I don't mean to assign a negative connotation to that. Rather, I could say that they make logical sense.
Narcissus: The comparison of Narcissus' features to features of the Olympians seems to be a salute to their perfect form. The quote "What I want I have. My riches make me poorer" draws out the paradox between the relationship of love and beauty. If one is of perfect form, how could they ever be satisfied with anything less? And for Narcissus, love for the perfect form literally becomes a reflection of himself.
Pyramus and Thisbe: I immediately thought of Maximillian and Valentine from The Count of Monte Cristo when I read "So they talked, hopelessly, sitting opposite, saying, as night fell, 'Farewell,' each touching the wall with kisses that could not reach the other side." The scene evokes the conversations Maximillian and Valentine shared across the garden wall outside Villefort's mansion. As a point of contrast, however, dramatic irony exists in Ovid's story whereas in The Count of Monte Cristo the reader believes Valentine dies of poisoning.
Mars and Venus: As short as this story is, it reminds me of some novellas in the Decameron in which one character puts another to shame in return for being wronged by the second.
Perseus and Andromeda: Once again, there's an explanation of origin when it comes to where certain species of serpents came from. I must say that I'm a bit surprised by how nonchalant Perseus seems to be when it comes to taking Andromeda as a prize and placing her parents in a position where they cannot willing refuse his offer.
Perseus and Medusa: Man, Ovid has a very way of slipping those explanations for parts of nature as he does with coral in this story. Once he states it, he moves on. My only complaint about this story is its lack of suspense. From the beginning it seems that it's presumed that Perseus will be victorious.
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