Stop. Wait a minute...

When our class first discussed the poem “In Mind” by Denise Levertov we made a short list on the board of the key things we do when we first approach a poem (look for metaphors, pinpoint shifts, explore tone, read out loud, etc.). Then, Ms. Lemon made the point that so many times we overlook the one thing that truly defines a literary piece of work—the title. The title, she emphasized, can give the reader critical information that perhaps the work itself cannot.

So lets stop. And wait a minute...

...because we forgot the title. 

   The Age of Innocence. What was Wharton thinking? I think I found a good definition of the word innocence to start us off: "Innocence is the quality of having no experience or knowledge of the more complex or unpleasant aspects of life" (www.dictionary.reverso.net). Fashionable New York in the 1870s was a very luxurious time period. It seems like all they did was dance, host parties, attend dinners, watch musicals, and of course gossip. However, citizens of this era lived in a dry, flaky world. They were caged by their own narrow-mindedness and blind to the real complexities of life. Wharton describes it as "a society wholly absorbed in barricading itself against the unpleasant" (Wharton 85). Newland was childishly afraid Ellen's divorce would make unpleasant talk. He couldn't face the "big boy" stuff. He was raised in a naive society where "they all lived in a kind of hieroglyphic world, where the real thing was never said or done or even thought, but only represented by a set of arbitrary signs" (Wharton 40). People simply didn't want to grow up, confront reality and ultimately accept it. As sad as it is, they lived during an innocent age. 

Now we can move on...

Just around the Riverbend

     We began today with Henry James. A man who watched major events from the sidelines, James was mostly interested in writing about the psychology of characters. He was a realist and an observer, as we can easily see in his novella, Daisy Miller.

     The literary movements that we discussed (American romanticism, realism, modernism, and naturalism) brought up a question in my mind: what is the style of today? Because of traumatic events like the Civil War or the World Wars, people ended up craving realism instead of the fantastical. What do literary audiences crave today? 

     Jumping back to Daisy Miller, one of the most interesting ideas we touched on was Winterbourne's insecurity. In the passage that we read closely, Winterbourne felt as if he was going on daring adventure, as if he and Miss Miller were escaping from society or at least breaking some social norm by being together without anyone else from their social circle. Society, society, society. With Winterbourne, everything seems to relate to society. He worries that Daisy will embarrass him in front of others while they are out on the boat, so he had wanted to go in a private carriage with her. He takes pride in the fact that people are looking at Daisy and noticing her "distinguished air." 

   I will finish with a small random tidbit I thought up. Daisy is described as garrulous (she gives a "charming garrulity"), which means talkative... so I guess you could say it's almost like babbling. And someone (I believe it was Lauryn) asserted that Daisy's personality was almost like water... so perhaps she is almost like a babbling brook. Like flowing water, she is always changing, refreshing, and at times a little mysterious  (cue music for Just Around the River Bend ♬♩). 

And I just had to look up the lyrics for it... 

What I love most about rivers is:

You can't step in the same river twice

The water's always changing, always flowing (like Daisy)

But people, I guess, can't live like that

We all must pay a price

To be safe, we lose our chance of ever knowing

What's around the riverbend (like Winterbourne)

Waiting just around the riverbend. 

Just a thought. 

-Isabel Nygard

Wuthering Heights, people! Circa 1992

The Poets of A Block

She is –

Looking in.

A stained coffee cup.

A squinted eye.

The sound of a laughing hyena.

A bleeding heart.

A delicate compromise.

A voice dancing free.

A song, a speech, a play, a lie, a plea.

An ever-changing mind.

John Bender’s fist in the air.

An airplane heart.

An anchor dropped on Nashville grounds.

Soccer tournaments and Sunday bike rides,

A permanent force of nature.

A fledgling phoenix,

Wishing her time would come.

Glitter and hiking boots,

Dressed in layers, tie dye,

Holding the hands of assertiveness and confidence,

Not Like The Movies.

A weathered bridge

Standing strong.

Seeing what others miss.

Learning to breathe,

Wanting to stay forever

In the land of anywhere else.

Drowning in standards of perfection, popularity,

Illuminated by the somber glow of her computer screen.

Watching from the corner.

Taking that risk.

Finding her voice.

Launch out on her story, Muse, as she launches into it herself,

As she explores fairytale endings

And writes her own.