Oh, Responsibility

        Today we started off class with high emotions. Yes, I am talking about the senior house being taken away and the general outrage it has stirred up in the class of 2016. So we were given the poem “Responsibility” which some say was a ‘coincidence,’ but I’m sure was carefully selected by Ms. Lemon just for our mood.

        Responsibility. What does that word even mean? According to Google, responsibility is the state or fact of having a duty to deal with something or having control over someone, the state or fact of being accountable or to blame for something, and the opportunity or ability to act independently and make decisions without authorization. Oh, how ironic the definition of responsibility seems now. The speaker in this poem talks about the role and responsibilities of a poet.  She writes about how poets need to speak the truth about both the beautiful and the ugly. A reoccurring responsibility is, “It is the responsibility for the poet to be a woman.” I thought this was interesting because she mentions it in the second line, in the thirteenth and fourteenth line saying both males and females need to be women, and in the thirtieth line. I really liked how she said, “it is the responsibility of the male poet to be a woman,” but I was expecting her to follow up with a line like “it is the responsibility of the female poet to be a man.” It was then surprising that she continued with the theme of a woman being a woman. It makes me wonder, who is she speaking to?  Is she writing to herself as a reminder of her responsibilities as a poet? Or is she writing to other women to stay true to themselves and not try to be like men? I still can’t decide on the answer to these questions, but I suppose these responsibilities are supposed to be taken in a way that is most beneficial to the reader.      

        That may be why that, after reading this poem, we were given the assignment of writing our own “Responsibility” poems in this same style. I think the majority of people’s minds went to the before mentioned topic of outrage. However small this may be in the grand scheme of things, my mind went right there too. But it also went to a more recent event of two flies that we saw the dramatic deaths of. So, even though this is by far not my best piece of writing, I thought I would share my “Responsibility” poem.

Responsibility

It is the responsibility of the fly to be a fly

It is the responsibility for the fly to

come into peaceful classrooms

and create chaos where there was none

It is the responsibility of the fly to

find that one banana

and punish the room with its buzzing

It is the responsibility of the fly to

stir up a crowd

even if they believe in its right to live too

It is the responsibility of the fly

to bond people in anger

and not in love

It is the responsibility of the fly

to evade capture

And it is the responsibility of the people

to just let it go.

The Necessity of Faults

How is it possible that there's only one solidly good character in this whole novel? Cohn is a whiner, Mike is a drunk, Jake can be a jerk, Bill is jaded sometimes, and Brett is the worst. Thank goodness for the existence of Pedro Romero, because otherwise, I'm not sure we'd find a completely likeable character. Even Jake, as the narrator, admits to some of his faults, particularly his horrid jealousy of Cohn. Then, there's Romero, the dashing young bull-fighter. Is there anything "wrong" with him? Not that we know of at the moment. He's mature for his age, an incredible bull-fighter, he's proficient in English and French as well as Spanish, and he's an all-around nice guy. At this point, the only potential problem with him is that he's interested in Brett, which spells trouble.

Meanwhile, there's every other character. Let's start with our narrator, Jake. He puts himself in a good light, but we can still see hints of his flaws. He's very judgmental and doesn't stop other people from slamming Cohn since he doesn't particularly like Cohn. Jake doesn't try to hide his issues, but he isn't confronting them, either. I see Jake as a coward. He loves Brett, and even though he knows she's destructive bad news, he doesn't try to sever ties with her. He's too afraid to be without her, but he can't be with her. He would be better off if he could face his problems head-on.

I'll say the same for Mike: he's a coward. He becomes falsely brave when he's drunk--a.k.a. all the time--and that's when he chooses to confront Cohn. But he confronts Cohn for these issues. Only Cohn. Never Brett, because God forbid she do anything wrong. I mean, Mike even mentions that Brett has affairs all the time, yet he's still going to marry her! Like Jake, he's too scared to leave her.

Cohn needs to get over himself. So he spent some time in San Sebastian with Brett. So has probably the majority of male Europe. That doesn't make him super special. He published a book that was popular in America? Congratulations, but he's in France! He isn't a big deal there! He seems very whiny to me, especially when talking about the bull-fights, a huge contrast to Romero. First, he's afraid he might be bored, then he's feeling sick at the sight of dying animals. I'm sure he's a nice guy when he's not being terribly annoying, but I'm finding it hard to see too many redeeming qualities at the moment. But I should keep in mind that our narrator is Jake, who isn't so happy with Cohn, so there's obviously some bias abounding.

Bill is generally a light-hearted guy, but on occasions, he lashes out. He's pretty jaded, especially with his snarky comments about Cohn and the Catholic pilgrims. Did the war make him like this? Maybe he's born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline. He's hardly in the chapters post-fishing, though, so we don't get to see a lot more of his bitter side.

Then there's Brett. Ah, flirtatious, insincere, self-destructive Brett. Everyone is a phase to her. Cohn, Mike, Romero, even Jake, although their relationship doesn't fade super quickly. Her flaws are more noticeable than others. It's like there's an air horn directing our attention to her faults. She's engaged (and still somewhat married, if there is such a thing), yet she still has affairs with pretty much every man she meets, and doesn't even try to hide it from her fiancée. How cold-hearted and ridiculous is that? If I had a moral compass that didn't quite point North, I wonder if I would like Brett more, since Jake still paints her in a flattering light. I guess love really does see not with the eyes but with the mind.

It's hard to argue that there is a character besides Pedro Romero that has no faults. On the other hand, if everyone was as perfect as Romero, the book would be totally boring. Brett would stick with Mike or Jake, there would be no conflict, and it would be nearly impossible to differentiate the characters. Without problems, what is the plot? What are we? I guess I should thank Hemingway for making his characters less than perfect. It makes for an interesting tale.

Nature's Role in "The Sun Also Rises"

          In class, part of what we discussed was how Hemingway uses nature in the The Sun Also Rises. After sharing Quaker style the different nature-specific passages that stuck out to us throughout chapters eleven, twelve, and thirteen, it was clear that nature is a large part of the message that Hemingway is trying to send in the novel. Similar to "Hills like White Elephants", nature serves a greater purpose than a simple description. Hemingway's inclusion of nature may provide hints as to the characters' innermost thoughts and desires or possibly what the reader should take away from the novel.
          Nature plays a key role in chapter twelve. Jake and Bill's fishing trip brought to the two characters to an almost alternate reality. In the passage below, Hemingway describes Jake's experience when he first starts fishing:
          "As I baited up, a trout shot up out of the white water into the falls and was carried down. Before I could finish baiting, another trout jumped at the falls, making the same lovely arc and disappearing into the water that was thundering down. I put on a good size sinker and dropped into the white water close to the edge of the timbers of the dam" (Hemingway, 124).


          Before the fishing trip, the entire novel takes place in cities and involves wild, city lifestyles. When the two friends escape from this possibly harmful way of life and take refuge in the warm air and beautiful water, Jake especially seems to be reborn. I think that this is a turning point for him as a character. He does not have Brett to be distracted by and has no alcohol to numb his feelings. Instead, he and Bill have a "bromance" moment and Jake finally seems temporarily happy. He even uses the word, "lovely". Who is this? Jake is characteristically cynical and suddenly he is using words like "lovely". It seems like nature represents life in the novel because it helps Jake to truly live again.  Unfortunately, Jake's character is one who is not living completely. He is stuck in a rut before and after the fishing trip. Jake is basically along for the ride and pines after Brett from afar. He is obviously in love with her but does nothing because he feels that he is insufficient. In this way, he is letting life pass him by. In contrast, this passage is a sort of recess for Jake's angst and I think that Hemingway wanted for the reader to realize the way that nature temporarily heals Jake.

I know how to lose stuff, too

Today in class, we talked about The Sun Also Rises, but we also talked about the poem "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop. After reading this poem, I looked around to see grins on my classmate's and even Ms. Lemon's faces, yet I couldn't help being surprised at this sight. I do agree it's a well-written poem, but it's not one that leaves me smiling. It's heart-breaking. It's beautiful. It's deeper than it first seems.

Bishop starts her poem by talking of losing things of little value and how it is not a disaster but is even to be expected. Yet as the poem goes on, the things she loses become larger thing, more sentimental, a bigger deal, arguably a disaster. Bishop writes of losing "places, and names, and where it was you meant / to travel" (Bishop 8-9). These are dreams she's losing. Dreams. Maybe it's just that I'm a senior and preparing to enter into that last stage before *cringe* adulthood. Maybe it's because we're hyper-sensitive at this time to find our passion and pursue it. Maybe it's because I've seen too many adults living their life in a job that's merely that: a job. It breaks my heart that this narrator has lost the places she dreamed of going, the people who meant so much to her at one time. Then she loses her mother's watch. It's unclear if her mother is alive or not. But upon hearing this line, I imagined it as the gift her mother had given her. It probably has tremendous value, especially if her mother has died. Then she writes of losing houses, cities, rivers, and a continent. If you have ever had to move, you know what a cause of stress it becomes. Perhaps she's been evicted, but even if she's moving of her own volition moving is stressful.

Then comes the biggest shift in the poem. She has lost "you."  I don't know who "you" is, but it's very clear to me that "you" was loved and "you" was important. It's so clear. The narrator describes "the joking voice, a gesture" (16). These are small things you only know on best friends or someone you're in love with. Yet how does Bishop end the poem? By saying that losing things is easy and saying it's not a disaster. I only agree with one of those statements.

How many times have I sent a text spilling my vulnerabilities and feelings only to end it with "haha", "LOL", or "or whatever"? Isn't that what Bishop is doing here? Only instead of an "or whatever," Bishop adds that nothing is a disaster to almost every stanza. Ms. Lemon so beautifully described the works from the confessionalist movement as "their lives were splattered all over the pages." And that is what's happening in the poem. Bishop opens up the gate guarding her house, yet bolts the door. She brings us in, and keeps us out.

So, Miss Elizabeth Bishop, I feel you. Girl, do I get it. Many times I've lost things, places, and people. But, let me tell you, it is ok for it to be a disaster. In the words of Victoria Erickson, "it's ok to shatter. You can't possibly hold more light or beauty unless you break first." So yeah, losing things may be inevitable. But you don't have to shove your distress down and try and convince yourself and everyone else that it doesn't matter. It's ok for it to be a disaster.

"Don't Talk Like a Fool"

Major Discoveries of the Day:

1. Jake is impotent (unlike the sun, his is not rising).
2. The Sun Also Rises is a war novel taking place post-war.
3. Brett may as well be a manic version of Daisy Miller

On Friday, we talked a lot about manhood. This actually tickles me for two reasons: 1) manhood does not really apply to us, and 2) I keep thinking of Mr. Croker’s dream about being a girl. Anyways, one point we did not discuss was repetition in this novel. Have you noticed it? Characters repeat themselves (or others) so much that I actually stopped keeping track. For instance, the phrase “Don’t talk like a fool” pops up on pages 30, 34, and 88. While the appearances of this phrase are farther apart, Jake says “Come on” six times within three pages and Bill says “daunted” nine times on page 79 (Hemingway 78-80). Hemingway even repeats descriptions! I cannot tell you how many times in Book II he noted Brett “wrinkling the corners of her eyes” (80, 81…). What does that even mean? Does she have crows’ feet?

We have a rule in singing. If you sing a phrase more than once, you cannot sing it the same way every time. If you are going to sing “Halo” by Beyonce, you better sing each “halooooo” with a different level of poignancy each time! How can we apply this principle to Hemingway? He is not singing to us, but perhaps, he wants us to notice the context of these repeated phrases to discern their importance to the text.

Consider the repeated phrase “Don’t talk like a fool”, which shows up on three different pages. On page 30, Brett says this to Jake after he accuses her of counting up all the men who drool over her. It pops out of nowhere in a playful scold. However, in contrast, on pages 34 and 88, Jake is the one who says this phrase. He first says it back to Brett when they are talking about his impotence. Brett starts to lament on how his inability to consummate their relationship is a punishment for her philandering. To this, he replies, “‘Don’t talk like a fool’” (34). He sarcastically throws her phrase back at her, but he seems to actually mean it. Later, he says it to Mike in the presence of Brett. The drunken Mike invited himself and Brett on Jake’s fishing trip and is annoyingly asking Jake over and over again if he minds. To this, Jake shortly replies, “‘Don’t talk like a fool’” (88). He does not say something patient or polite like “It’s no trouble at all” or “The more the merrier!” No, he tries to shut Mike up with a terse negative imperative. What can we make of this? My conclusion is that this phrase shows Jake’s true feelings about people. He wishes they would just stop going on and on like fools. As we have discussed, he is easily peeved, so it makes sense that the insensitive, drunken chattering of his peers would drive him a little mad. I cannot help but wonder if his temper will ever snap in the later parts of this novel. How much foolishness can one man take?

Frustration in Two Words: Hemingway's Ambiguity

Tonight's homework was to read Book I of The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. Before opening this novel, the only words I had read written by Hemingway was the short story we read for homework, Hills Like White Elephants. While this story perplexed me due to its frustrating ambiguity, I appreciated and enjoyed Hemingway's style. As I opened The Sun Also Rises, I expected to be challenged, yet also enjoy the work.
We start out Book I of The Sun Also Rises with a look at the speaker's friend, Robert Cohn. After describing this friend in length, we finally learn the narrator's name, Jake. Robert Cohn and Jake meet on occasion, but I got the feeling that Jake does not seem to like or appreciate his friendship with Robert as much as Robert likes him. Jake describes Robert as a sort of lonely, lost, aspiring writer, who has high hopes and dreams that he will never achieve. Robert is always controlled by a woman, currently one named Frances. In one scene, Frances is saying awful things to Robert because he does not want to marry her, and Jake notes himself that rather than stand up for Robert, he just lets it happen, and eventually leaves the situation.
In Book I, a notable young woman named Brett is also introduced. Although first introduced quite ambiguously, we eventually learn that Brett and Jake are in love, but cannot be together. Brett is currently going through a divorce, and intends to marry some man named Michael, yet she does not love either of these men. It seems that Book I is introducing a struggle between Brett and Jake and themselves, on whether or not they should just give up and allow themselves to be together in complete true love or not.

I can already see Hemingway's ambiguous style through tonight's reading. It seems almost everything and everyone is introduced with some vague background that is to be understood until actually later explained. However, there are still some things left unexplained. There was some "funny story" about how Jake got wounded in the war, that he often thinks about and that he briefly talked about with Brett. This war wound, in addition to Count Mippipopolous's arrow wounds, are one of the motifs Mrs. Lemon told us to watch for. Furthermore, Jake's relationship with Brett is confusing because it seems their love is so deeply passionate, yet Brett claims she can never be with her true love, Jake.
I also noticed when I first began reading how different it was that Hemingway decided to start out talking about Robert Cohn, rather than introducing Jake, the protagonist speaker, first. Hemingway then moves into Jake's complicated life, introducing new characters, each with their own back story and history with Jake.

It seems that Hemingway's life at the time of writing this is very prevalent in the novel. The setting is in Paris, where Hemingway was living at the time. However, there is a conflict in the novel between people who like and dislike Paris. Robert claims to dislike it and wishes to travel the world, while Jake seems completely taken aback at this idea, and cannot imagine disliking or being unappreciative of all the beauty that Paris has to offer. As I noticed in the scene when Count Mippipopolous, Brett, and Jake were talking in Jake's flat, they talk about the count's values, another idea Mrs. Lemon told us to watch for.
This novel still leaves me with questions, that may be answered later, or only through careful reading and noticing of details. I wonder what Robert Cohn's significance is in the novel. I wonder why Hemingway gave his characters the lifestyle they have -- a seemingly lavish, partying, late-night-yet-work-the next-day lifestyle. Brett in and of herself is just one big ambiguity. I wonder how the mysterious character Harvey Stone will play into the novel. So far, Book I has set up a nice foundation, yet most definitely leaving the reader wanting and expecting more.

Hills Like Loop Writing?

            To ease into our Monday morning, we began class by hearing a final poetry recitation by Kristen Barrett. After Kristen recited “When You Are Old” by William Butler Yates, Mrs. Lemon gave us a brief biography of Yates. We learned that he was sickly and probably had something similar to pneumonia. Aware that death was fast approaching, Yates created a wild new way of seeking the world through his writing.

            Following our discussion of Yates, the class returned to loop writing and our poems of choice: “From Blossoms,” “Delight in Disorder,” and “The Sea.” In our focused free-writes this morning, Mrs. Lemon challenged us to approach our writing uninhibitedly and to start anew in a sense if necessary. We revisited our previous writings, selected lines from these writings, and brought it all together in either a paragraph or perhaps a poem. The decision was up to us. We then shared images from our writing “quaker style.” Reflecting on how we felt about the loop writing process, someone pointed out that it was like speed dating but with writing instead. We decided that it was conversational, argumentative, and not necessarily formal. Finally, we recognized that, through this process, our brain scattered in a multitude of directions, but we embraced this fact about ourselves.

            Our completion of the loop writing exercise led us to the bigger picture. We were informed that this process was ultimately the starting point of a personal essay. But there was a catch. The project was introduced to the class as “The Rumination Essay: Finding the Joy.” This was our chance to meditate on passages we created during loop writing and link them to make a greater story–a mix of creative and analytical writing. Then, we highlighted moments of our individual writings that we did not want to lose.

            After wrapping up our conversations regarding the personal essay, we turned to Ernest Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants.” First of all, Mrs. Lemon gave us an overview of the important events in Hemingway’s life that ultimately shaped his writing. Born right at the turn of the century in 1899, Hemingway learned how to uniquely present the human psychology early in his writing career. Desperate to get to war to prove his manhood, Hemingway fought in World War I. After being injured and sent to a hospital in Italy, Hemingway met and fell in love with a British nurse. Soon enough, Hemingway healed and returned to America hoping his new love would follow. However, the British nurse sent a letter confessing that she was in love with someone else. Hemingway’s heart was shattered.

Ending our biography of Hemingway on such a heavy note, we decided to move to the story itself. The majority of the class was utterly confused by the cryptic story; however, we were able to bounce ideas and predictions off of one another only a few moments into our discussion. We pointed out Hemingway’s lack of naming his characters in this particular story seeing that we were only informed of the girl’s nickname which was “Jig” while the man was simply referred to as “the American.” Early into our discussion, we were asked the question, “What is the significance of the train?” A classmate brought up the idea of the setting of the train station being a crossroads of sorts. Something is lost or will be lost. After numerous possibilities and predictions such as abortion and lobotomy (thanks Kelly!) were thrown around, we decided that the elephant in the room was the girl’s pregnancy. Something interesting about Hemingway is the fact that he never calls abortion by name because it only makes it more real. To Hemingway, sadness and pain do not hold an antecedent. The baggage is ever so present in this story. It’s heavy either way–whether the girl has the operation or not. Then, another classmate pointed out the stark contrast between the man, aka the realist, and the more creative girl, aka the optimist. We pointed out the man’s lack of want of “anybody but you” (you meaning the girl). We decided that this was his final clue to the girl that he did not want anything to do with this baby. But really, it’s all open to interpretation.

Finally, we discussed the loaded ending. The conversation is the relationship in this case. At this point, the whole story shifts dramatically. Now, the girl feels “fine.” But oh how loaded the word “fine” really is! The girl begins to deaden herself emotionally. She lacks the enthusiasm and exploratory voice she possessed at the beginning of the story. Now, she fakes her feelings. Really, those feelings are a simple numbness and a sense of trauma. Maybe Hemingway left us even more confused than we were to begin with. I mean, after all, all I see is hills like white elephants.