Saturday, November 28, 2015

Orange and Black

     Homework for Poetry Writing during the Bedlam football game.

OK State’s orange and black –
on the field, it’s not hard to track;
cheering on the Cowboys
as the offense destroys
opponents’ defenses with the relentless attack.

Similar-colored schools out there can be a drawback –
say, Oregon State or  Illinois –
but the Pokes can take a lot of flak.
It’s OK State orange and black.

Sure, an Eskimo Joe’s knickknack
makes a great present, as do Garth Brooks soundtracks.
The underdog attitude we employ
heightens the rare victory joy.
The Pokes’ colors are all over the Pontiac; 

It’s OK State orange and black.

Crimson and Cream

     Homework for Poetry Writing while the Bedlam football game was playing.

Long live the crimson and cream;
our rows of trophies gleam
and when someone calls out “Boomer!”
It’s a given the reply is “Sooner!”
It’s what makes us Oklahoma’s team.

Did you see the latest Mike Gundy meme?
Maybe he’s getting run over by the Schooner,
or that could have been just a dream.
Long live the crimson and cream

Memorial Stadium will teem
with fans, all with crimson bloodstream
with the sky-light in lunar
while some country crooner
sings the Anthem, our land reigns supreme.

Long live the crimson and cream.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Just Another Thursday

     Thanksgiving was pretty quiet. So the pantoum for Poetry Writing homework describing it was pretty quiet, too. I kind of broke the format apart more than I should've, but the words wouldn't quite cooperate. And besides, it was just a draft. I can revise later if necessary.

As rain falls outside,
it’s just another holiday.
Ham bakes in the oven,
along with the pecan pie.

It’s just another holiday,
football plays on the TV,
along with the pecan pie
go sandwich leftovers.

Football plays on the TV -
the dogs are begging, but
sandwich leftovers go
well with board games.

The dogs are begging -
maybe next year will be something special.
For now, break out the board games.
It’s just another Thursday.

Maybe next year will be something special.
Ham bakes in the oven,
it’s just another Thursday

as rain falls outside.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

One of Shakespeare's Most Dramatic Scenes

     The last main essay for my Shakespeare course at Rogers State University.

          Act Four, Scene One is basically the scene in Much Ado About Nothing. First we have the horrifying behavior of Claudio in ruining the wedding by accusing Hero of being unfaithful, and then Leonato’s rage, and then the smoldering anger of Beatrice and Benedick’s swooping in to challenge Claudio to a duel, while he and Beatrice finally admit that they love each other. There are so many intense emotions felt throughout by the characters as the audience is taken on a roller coaster ride of despair and lividity while knowing this will somehow lead into the pleasant ending of a comedy, which typically is a wedding.
            But first, to recap what has happened which led up to this scene: Claudio and Hero fell in love; Benedick and Beatrice once were in a relationship before he left her, Don Pedro is trying to get them back together, and finally, Don John is enacting what revenge he can for losing a civil war to Don Pedro by trying to cause as much mayhem as possible, which included enlisting the help of several cunning assistants in making it look as if Hero were unfaithful in having sex with another guy on the eve of her wedding. Dogberry would have been able to foil this plot if was not handicapped by his own ineptitude and Leonato’s impatience.
            This wedding scene is handled well in Joss Whedon’s theatrical adaptation; particularly in Clark Gregg’s Leonato’s confusion on lines 6-7 of the play script, and Alexis Denisof’s Benedick’s attempt to get things back on track with lines 20-21. Claudio believes he’s doing the right thing, which does not make his actions and words any less horrendous in this scene, but it does sort of allow the audience to understand where he is coming from in calling Hero “a rotten orange” (31) and “an approved wanton” (43). As an example of body language, which cannot come through the bare skeleton of the script’s dialogue, in the film Don John(played by Sean Maher) casually snatches up a cupcake as he strolls away from the wedding, his task completed. This adds the perfect amount of “What a jerk!” felt by the audience.
Is there a more painful utterance in Shakespeare than Claudio’s speech from 99-103? “O Hero! What a Hero hadst thou been if half thy outward graces had been placed about thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart? But fare thee well; most foul, most fair! Farewell, thou pure impiety and impious purity!” Mignon Fogarty explains in a “Grammar Girl” blog post titled “Why Did People Stop Saying ‘Thou’?” that it was generally addressed to a social inferior; which adds to this passage’s heartbreak. Hero faints and is presumed dead, and the Friar proposes a long-winded, well-intentioned, but dubious solution which is generally agreed upon.
       Some time later, (line 255 in the same scene in the script, a separate scene in the film,) Benedick comes upon Beatrice weeping bitterly. They agree that Hero was wronged (259-260), and the enormity of this calamity forces them to admit freely what the audience has been wanting to hear for so long: “I do love nothing in the world so well as you.” “You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest that I loved you.” (267, 282-283) This touching scene is then flipped immediately on its head with Beatrice’s request that Benedick kill Claudio (288). Beatrice’s fury at Benedick’s reluctance to comply is portrayed brilliantly by Amy Acker; the tongue is the only war tool available to the woman of Elizabethan times, and Beatrice is a master fencer with it, lashing him with barbs such as “You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy,” (297-98) and more deeply wounding, “Or that I had any friend who would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into curtsies, valor into compliment,” (315-17) Benedick does not wish at all to do battle with his friend, of course; yet the honor of the family of his wife-to-be is at stake here, so the carefree acquaintances of military days must pass into the mists of time. After one more question to sum up the situation, he charges forward into action: “I will challenge him.” (329) Just before and just after that, he says some odd things worth pondering: “Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?” (326-27) and “As you hear of me, so think of me.” (331-32)
      It could still be the love endorphins talking, but a highly agitated woman would be liable to say anything was the opinion of her soul at the moment. This seems like a very quicksand-like foundation to go confront one’s best friend about in a matter of life and death, even if the woman asked is his new girlfriend. Also, almost everything in this play revolves around eavesdropping, overhearing conversations and misinterpreting that information. Benedick is casting his reputation to the wind and hoping that all will turn out aright; does he know that Don John has left by this point, so the chance of further mischief is slight? Or is he saying that with complete faith in her loyalty? Possibly this “growing up” of putting her and her family ahead of his army pals is what will allow Beatrice to keep her faith in his actions and abilities. It would depend greatly on how that scene was played, how we as audiences are supposed to interpret that. Finally, could Shakespeare have intended this to be a “breaking the fourth wall” moment, where both Beatrice and Benedick know that they are in a play, and that things will turn out happily by the curtain? In that case, it wouldn’t matter what other people said about him, because the outcome of the conflict would be assured. This is not a likely explanation, but it is interesting to think about, even though it is likely wild speculation.
      At this scene’s conclusion, roughly half the characters believe Hero is dead, Claudio could potentially be killed(but he lives, the conflict ends peaceably), and turns out that Fogberry had the answer to Don John’s participation the whole time. Both sets of couples are wedded, the audience breaths a sigh of relief, either shaking their heads in puzzlement of the play’s ending, which focusing on the imminent capture of Don John, or chuckling at the lighthearted ending of Whedon’s film, where Benedick urges Don Pedro to find a wife. In my opinion, the movie ends on a note more in keeping with the lighthearted elements of this play. 
Works Cited
Fogarty, Mignon. “Why Did People Stop Saying ‘Thou’?” Grammar Girl, Quick and Dirty Tips. 12 December 2014. Web. 23 November 2015.
Much Ado About Nothing. Dir. Joss Whedon. Perf. Amy Acker, Alexis Denisof, Reed Diamond, Clark Gregg, Fran Kranz, Sean Maher, Jillian Morgese. Lionsgate and Roadside Attractions. 2012. Netflix. Web. 15 September 2015.

Shakespeare, William. Much Ado About Nothing. 1599? William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. Ed. Stephen Orgel and A.R. Braunmuller. P.p. 371-400. New York: Penguin Books, 2002. Print. 

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Highway of Memories, Heading for Westville

     This was the fifth poem for workshopping in Dr. Mackie's Poetry Writing class at Rogers State; we could do it on any subject and use any form. So I kind of invented one, and went with a personal story, which I'd pretty much tried to avoid all semester. This is very small Wesley visiting Mimi's trailer in Westville at the farm, and then I got all Edgar Guest-like and tacked on an explicit moral at the end. Classmates thought it was my best workshopped poem.

Wishbone could be narrating the scene;
at least, in the mind of the small boy
he could. They were exploring through the stream
pretending to be Lewis and Clark,
Brad and Rosalind; hoping to blaze a trail

to the Pacific in their jackets of blue jean.
It’s what happens when Amelia Bedelia and Corduroy
live at your grandma’s trailer; invented sports teams
shoot baskets at the hoop ‘til long after dark;
a place where imagination takes full sail,

a rodeo chute out of the washing machine
as Brad(on his bucking bronco stickhorse) played cowboy;
where bowls of late-night strawberry ice cream
could be devoured alongside tales from places like Denmark –
this was well before she grew so frail.

The farm’s run-down now, no more the clean
and orderly neighborhood of cats, horses and Happy Meal toys.
Nope; it still exists, in grammatical dream.
…Once in a while you run into Arthur the aardvark
Or those pictures of cats perched atop a hay bale.

Okay, so there might be baked beans
at supper, forcing you to employ
a distractification scheme
to hear anew about that Melville shark;
but listen to relatives’ stories for a spell.

Memories are here for a moment, before the ghosts possess
the places once lived in by those we loved the best.
By all this verse a message I hope to imply:

Don’t let the stories die.  

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

ABC's of College

     For a Poetry Writing assignment; I was bored and I've been reading a history of Sesame Street. So here's the ABC's of College. Hope y'all enjoy.

     A is for Academic Jargon, which can be difficult to understand. And Assignments, and also All-Nighters, where you attempt to understand that Academic Jargon. “A” is also used in Avoiding Other People, or Acting.
     B is for Broke, which all students are. And also for BuzzFeed, huge time-waster/refuge from pressing work to do.
     C stands for COFFEE!!!!!!!! (Everyone knows that.) Because of the Chaos of Classes. And Cussing. (Which helps in dealing with Classmates.)
     D means Deadlines, AKA “Get something turned in or else.”
     E is for Education. Duh. And Essays. And Escape, which is what a lot of Essays are about. Not to mention Exhaustion or Energy Drinks.
     F means Financial Aid. It also might mean Football at a lot of schools, or Friends.
    G is for Graduation….eventually.
    H is for Homework, for obvious reasons. Hope, too; which can be in very small supply. Homecoming is usually celebrated by many folks.
    I is for the Internet, for equally obvious reasons.
    J is for Jail, which is what school can feel like sometimes. And it could also be Journalism, which isn’t taught much anymore.
   K stands for Knowledge, the main goal behind education; in theory.
   L is for Loans. (These are evil. Avoid them at all costs.) And Laundry. This is just a pain, but kind of necessary to daily life. Libraries are useful, though.
   M is for Money. Pretty much what everything revolves around. And MLA, which is how most Essays ought to be written. Microwaves are pretty useful, too.  
   N is for Netflix, to procrastinate appropriately.
   O is for Oreos. Because of…
   P, which is simple: PANIC. And Pancakes, Prayer, Poetry, Pixar, Pandora and Pizza.  
   Q means Questions; namely “What am I doing here?” and “How is this concept relevant to real life?”
   R is for Roommates, which might lead to our next letter…
   S is for STRESS. So much Stress. And Sickness, Spotify and Superheroes. (Time is measured in Semesters.)
   T means Tears. Because of Tiredness, among a lot of other things. So you watch TV to cope with Deadlines.
   U stands for University.
   V is for Volleyball; the best way to relax for an hour or so from distressing Homework. It can occasionally be a good way to meet people.
   W is for Weekends, where you either avoid studying or catch up on all the stuff you’re behind in.
   X is for eXistential Crisis, which (it’s debatable) might be a requirement for being an English major, or being a college student at all.
   Y is for Yawning. There is a lot of that after being forced to do an All-Nighter. College also takes YEARS.
    Z is for Zonked. It’s hard to find words beginning with “Z”, though Ziplock Bags are highly important, to keep Leftovers in.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Advice From Sparky

     This Poetry Writing homework was written on the close of an awful day, and I was missing my dog Sunny. So I read Wilson Rawls' Where the Red Fern Grows, and that helped. This poem was written to a master from his loyal now-dead scruffy beagle Sparky. The name came from recently reading a biography of Charles Schulz, and the brightish tone in the last stanza was probably influenced by studying a lot of Edgar Guest.

Yeah, I’m not here any longer,
but you just found this letter
and I never chewed up much
poetry as a pup, so I reckon
I can try it now.

If I did my job right, you’re stronger
now than you were then, better
able to handle stress and such.
Sure, you still freak out for a second
when things leave you going “…Wow,”

but doesn’t everyone? Don’t squander
these moments you live, be a go-getter
and make sure to give a “Hang in there” touch
to those pals in need. A new chapter of life beckons.
Chase it, like I do my tail. I am a dog, anyhow.


Saturday, November 14, 2015

A Month of Small-Town News to Gossip About

     This was one of my favorite practice poems for Poetry Writing homework. I was kind of aiming at a Garth Brooks-like story in tone with this villanelle, which I think I came close to. I wrote it based on a list of randomly-generated words: "Mandolins, Garth Brooks, basketball, rectangles, waffles, the Fourth of July and grief." It was written near midnight; thus joining the hypothetical poetry collection "2 AM Poems" the class joked about(since most of the homework was done at the last second).
     I don't like this title, if I revise this one I'll change it, but it started out without any title, and there would be at least a full month of gossip generated in this town.

It was right about the Fourth of July,
that night where Garth Brooks came to the nearby town,
when Chloe’s best friend died…

Our basketball town gathered to cry
at the funeral of one of our own;
It was right about Fourth of July.

With the condolences said, the rumors spread like
waffle syrup artificially dyed brown
when Chloe’s best friend died.

Casey’s mandolin left – his hands, strong and spry
wouldn’t play to celebrate graduation.
It was right about the Fourth of July

That wreck was discovered out by the junior high,
causing the sheriff and law to frown 
when Chloe’s best friend died.

They say he was callin’ Baton Rouge; she was never charged with a crime
while the thunder rolled and farmers’ wheat drowned.
It was right about the Fourth of July

when Chloe’s best friend died…

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Importance of Food and Mealtime in Stories

     This was an essay for American Lit, I was going to base it on the use of weaving faith and superstition throughout the plotline of several novels, but realized at the last minute that there was no way I could do that effectively. So at the last minute I changed the topic to the use of food and mealtimes throughout novels, which Dr. Mackie said was a really good topic, but the essay needed a lot of work. I knew that, but a poorly-written essay is better than one turned in past deadline. It got a 79, which is higher than I would have given it, but that just barely kept me from getting an A in that class(I had an average of 88.9). Oh, well.

     In literature, often overlooked are minor details of daily living, if they are not relevant to the plot in some way. One of these aspects is mealtime; though the presence of food in general often serves as the setting for an important scene and/or emotional turnaround, or where important background exposition is revealed. I will try to showcase how food and mealtimes are important in novels.
     Through her novels, mostly situated within the small Appalachian village of Mitford, North Carolina, Jan Karon writes in a very down-to-earth, everyday manner. Characters do laundry and go grocery shopping and work through chores on Saturday; they work crossword puzzles and pray and read the local newspaper. Most of all, they eat. And many cook. In her anthology collection/scrapbook The Mitford Bedside Companion, Karon responds to numerous reader fan mail commenting on all the food in the books(which includes everything from apples, buttermilk biscuits, and Sara Lee pies to bouillabaisse, gizzards and lethal orange marmalade cake). She says on page 49,
“Why is there so much food in the Mitford books? First, food is a great way of communicating. When I write about Dooley loving fried baloney sandwiches, you can connect with that. When I write about Puny baking cornbread and Louella frying chicken, most of you can relate to that. Food is something we can all understand; it’s a common language.”
     A little farther down the same page Karon explains that besides that, she had left a successful advertising job to launch her writing career, and the reason the first book was filled with food references was “largely because my cupboards were bare, and I was writing hungry.”
      When hungry, it can be difficult to think properly, which can lead to poor decision making. The most obvious example of this is the biblical story where Esau traded his birthright to his younger brother Jacob as payment for a bowl of lentil stew (Genesis 25:29-34). Drinking alcoholic beverages throughout history has been seen as a social pastime, depicted in many literature and films. The impending decision about Jig getting an abortion in Ernest Hemingway’s short story “Hills Like White Elephants” is discussed over beers, while she proclaims that everything in life tastes like licorice. “Especially all the things you’ve waited so long for, like absinthe.” Hemingway’s novel The Sun Also Rises is filled with characters who exist in an alcohol-induced fog of addiction, living out Jig’s thought that “That’s all we do, isn’t it – look at things and try new drinks?” The characters of Eugene O’Neill’s play Long Day’s Journey Into Night would probably agree; as Mary says of addictions in Act Three, “It kills the pain. You go back until at last you’re beyond its reach.”
     Though not using drink as a means of escape, Nick Carroway of The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, is perhaps running away from the memories of that New York summer by locking the experience into printed form. Jay Gatsby built up his ridiculous façade to disguise his anguish over Daisy’s marriage to Tom, but the hullabaloo camouflaged well the fact that “he was just the proprietor of an elaborate road-house next door” (64). Gatsby uses mealtime and alcohol memorably; most of the first chapter introduces us to the main characters through an extremely uncomfortable dinner party (6-17). The second chapter is primarily concerned with the bizarre evening at Tom and Myrtle’s trysting place, which Nick cannot remember too well due to being drunk most of the night (24-37). It is over a meal at a fancy New York restaurant where the shadowy side of Gatsby’s business dealings is briefly revealed to the reader (69-73). Everyone is partially drunk that day in August when Myrtle Wilson is run over (114-141), and then in the aftermath that night Tom and Daisy “conspire together”, in Nick’s words, over cold fried chicken and ale (145).    
     But more often the sensory experience of consuming certain foods lends itself well to forming associations with experiences involving that food; which is what John Tobias’ poem with the extremely long title “Reflections on the Gift of a Watermelon Pickle Received From a Friend Called Felicity” is about. As Tobias says:
“…The summer which maybe never was
Has been captured and preserved.
And when we unscrew the lid
And slice off a piece
And let it linger on our tongue
Unicorns become possible again.”

     Watermelons ruled that summer when “the purpose of knees was to be skinned”; according to the poem, and E.B. White picks up on this theme quite a bit in Charlotte’s Web, from the opening chapter describing the momentous breakfast one spring morning in the Arable kitchen (7-13) to the listing of all the edible things summer brings (50-51) to the old sheep’s recitation of the paradise of food Templeton will find at the county fair (130-131). Listing all the places food drives the story forward would be citing almost the entire book.
In another novel written for juvenile readers, S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders, it’s while Ponyboy and Cherry are getting popcorn and Cokes at the movie theater where they discuss the differences and similarities between the Greasers and the Socs, exposing each to the view that those “on the wrong side of the tracks” might not be so terrible after all (38-43). Coca-Cola realized that trendy music could help marketers target the young demographic which Ponyboy, Cherry and Hinton all fell into, using widespread TV and radio advertisements starring the likes of Ray Charles, Libby H. O’Connell writes in her history of The American Plate (238). And while popcorn had a long tradition of being an American snack food, O’Connell states that its’ big break came from the invention of the electric corn popper in 1925, which was soon picked up widely by movie theaters, providing an affordable draw during the Great Depression and then providing servicemen a taste of home on military bases during World War II (261).
     Besides providing sustaining energy, meals can also be, in the formal definition of UCLA scholars Elinor Ochs and Merov Shohet in their journal article “The Cultural Structuring of Mealtime Socialization”, “cultural sites where members of different generations and genders come to learn, reinforce, undermine, or transform each other’s ways of acting, thinking and feeling in the world.”
     That transformation of acting and thinking which can occur over shared meals is part of what makes Celie’s and Squeak’s revolt during a family meal even more shocking in Alice Walker’s novel The Color Purple (198-204). Harmony is just somewhat expected during mealtimes, and so it’s doubly astonishing when that social civility is snapped. At the book’s close, a barbecue is one of the staples of the family reunion, thus reestablishing the sometime-frayed communication channels between former partners, extended family and parents and children (287-288).
     In Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie, the girls’ Christmas is made immeasurably brighter by Mr. Edwards’ visit bearing gifts from Santa Claus for Mary and Laura. These presents include a tin cup, a peppermint stick, a cake made of white sugar and a penny for each of them. And for the whole family, there are sweet potatoes to go with the Christmas turkey (248-252). Moving ahead about six years and changing the scenery from the Kansas prairie to the South Dakota prairie, the Ingalls’ Christmas with their friends the Boasts is brightened by the meal of roasted rabbit, dried apple pie and popcorn (198-200).
     And sometimes the conversation over meals can reveal insights or revelations which would have no other outlet. In a place as ultra-conservative as Philip Gulley’s Harmony, Indiana – which is anything but harmonious – the conversation in the Coffee Cup restaurant during a slow winter month revolves around the first bikini ever sold at the Five and Dime (Life Goes On 193-194). The townspeople can be unlovable curmudgeons who hate everything to the point where the best thing anyone can say at the funeral is “He did like Cheetos” (Signs and Wonders 146). But it in this town, over a piece of terrible-tasting leftover pot roast, that a father accepts that his son is gay (Signs 185-186). 
     Going back to Karon’s North Carolina in her first book, At Home in Mitford, the town’s favorite clergymember Father Tim Kavanagh meets his pretty next-door neighbor Cynthia Coppersmith the children’s book author/illustrator when she knocks on his door in a rainstorm to borrow a cup of sugar for a cake; they end up devouring a rack of barbecued ribs he had just made (At Home 142-144). From that first interaction, a friendship blossoms which eventually leads to their marriage. There are times when the strain of preaching gets to be too much, so those are where Father Tim can take a break and go visit the cabin of his friend Homeless Hobbes for encouragement and a bowl of stew in equal measure (At Home 236-240).
Edgar Guest begins his poem “The Perfect Dinner Table” by pointing out that the tablecloth is slightly dirty from little hands, the food is not fancy, and it is only him, his wife and their children at the table (Book of Virtues 241-242). The next two stanzas describe the excited chattering of the kids describing their day and the minor impolitenesses of putting elbows on the table or talking with one’s mouth full. It is a perfect example of the domestic focus and warm tone which so often comes through in Guest’s poetry. But the final stanza closes it out thusly:
“At many a table I have been
Where wealth and luxury were seen,
And I have dined in halls of pride
Where all the guests were dignified;
But when it comes to pleasure rare
The perfect dinner table’s where
No stranger’s face is ever known;
The dinner hour we spend alone,
When little girl and little lad
Run riot telling things to Dad.”

     That is idealistic, but if your dreams are not slightly out of reach, what would be the point of aiming at them? Most dinnertimes do not follow such a placid, well-trodden path – there will of course be battles over finishing the peas or corn - but that makes the times when it does happen shine brighter. Throughout this essay I tried to showcase instances of the ordinary routine affecting the extraordinary events of plotting; this does not the quality of a Red Lobster meal, instead seeming more of a Hamburger Helper type of paper. 



Works Cited
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. 1925. New York: Scribner, 2004. Print.
Guest, Edgar. “The Perfect Dinner Table”. 1916. The Book of Virtues. Ed. William J. Bennett. New York: Touchstone, 1993. Print.
Gulley, Philip. Life Goes On. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2004. Print.
-----------------. Signs and Wonders. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2003. Print.
Hemingway, Ernest. “Hills Like White Elephants”. 1927. PDF file, Massey University. Web. 11 November 2015.
Hinton, S.E. The Outsiders. 1967. New York: Viking, 2007. Print.
Karon, Jan. At Home in Mitford. New York: Penguin, 1994. Print.
---------------. The Mitford Bedside Companion. Ed. Brenda Furman. New York: Penguin, 2006. Print.
Ochs, Elinor and Merov Shohet. “The Cultural Structuring of Mealtime Socialization”. New Directions for Child and Adolescent Development. Wiley Periodicals. Spring 2006. Web. 11 November 2015.
O’Connell, Libby H. The American Plate: A Culinary History in 100 Bites. Naperville, Illinois: Sourcebooks, Inc., 2014. Print.
O’Neill, Eugene. Long Day’s Journey Into Night. 1956. The Norton Anthology of American Literature. Vol. D. Ed. Nina Bayim and Robert S. Levine. 402-480. New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 2012. Print.
Tobias, John. “Reflections on the Gift of a Watermelon Pickle Received From a Friend Called Felicity”. 1963. PDF file, University of Florida. Web. 11 November 2015.
White, E.B. Charlotte’s Web. 1952. New York: Dell Publishing, 1972. Print.
Wilder, Laura Ingalls. By the Shores of Silver Lake. 1939. New York: Scholastic, 1953. Print.

-------------------------. Little House on the Prairie.1935. New York: Scholastic, 1953. Print.


Friday, November 6, 2015

Fantasy, "Ocean" and Neil Gaiman

     The fourth major essay for Dr. Dial-Driver's Lit Traditions course at Rogers State University. It was the highest-scoring of the four at a 91; and considering that I didn't know what a literary analysis looked like when the course started, I'll take that.

     Neil Gaiman says in the acknowledgements of his novel The Ocean at the End of the Lane that it was intended to be merely a short story, but that it just kept growing until it was a novel-length project. This happens sometimes, for as Stephen King states in his memoir On Writing, “The writer who is serious and committed is incapable of sixing up story material the way an investor might size up various stock offerings” (159). Readers are not particularly drawn to books in order to analyze how they are crafted structurally; instead they want to experience a good story (King 160). Ocean is a little bizarre, and certainly different than most novels on bookshelves, but overall can be reckoned a worthwhile read.
     To begin with, this is a fantasy novel which is marketed at children. (Apparently I was wrong on this point, but I've never been very good at defining target audiences.) To be fantasy is to inhabit a “Perilous Realm” which “cannot be caught in a net of words; for it is one of its qualities to be indescribable, though not imperceptible”, as J.R.R. Tolkien said in his essay “On Fairy Stories”. The world of Ocean can be felt easily, but trying to define it in concrete terms is impossible. While writing it, Gaiman was plagued by a nagging question, which became the title of an article he wrote for Horn Book Magazine: “What the [Very Bad Swearword] Is a Children’s Book Anyway?” As Gaiman describes the then-work-in-progress, “It has magic in it. It has a Sense of Wonder in it, and strangeness. It’s a book about the incomprehensibility of the adult world.” Very much autobiographical, the book was written to try to explain to his wife what his childhood had been like.  As King says, because readers love reading about ordinary people working, “God knows why, but they do” (On Writing 161), perhaps that is why the Narrator of Ocean lives so deeply in books: “Growing up, I took so many cues from books. They taught me most of what I know about what people did, about how to behave. They were my teachers and advisors” (77). Gaiman is an author, so therefore he is writing about his own work here. Good authors, as Tolkien pointed out, “create worlds in which your mind can enter.” These Secondary Worlds are soap bubbles; as they disappear the moment disbelief enters the scene. As long as we are inside the soap bubble, all the rules of the tale’s reality are true. 
In “On Fairy Stories” Tolkien wrote that “the trouble with the real folk of Faerie is that they do not always look like what they are; and they put on the pride and beauty that we would fain wear ourselves. At least part of the magic that they weird for the good or evil of man is power to play on the desires of his body and his heart.” Once the opal miner commits suicide, nothing is quite how it appears. Ursula Monkton quickly ensnares the narrator’s father and his little sister; and a tent-creature or worm-thing is certainly not they thought they saw when she was hired as governess.  The Hempstocks are just “good country people”, their neighbors would say – and they are good, befriending and protecting the Narrator throughout the story. They are odd, though. Lettie especially is an enigma; at face value she is eleven, but it is implied that she has been eleven for a very, very long time. Her ocean is mystifying, as is almost everything else related to the Hempstocks. What exactly happened at the end by the pond is hidden by the tricks of memory and the distance of forty years’ clutter, but it is possible that Lettie sacrificed herself for our Narrator; coming as close to dying as is possible for those of her kind.
     Ursula Monkton, or the creature calling herself by that name, is eventually defeated, and the hunger birds are driven away, much to the cheers of the audience. This constant fight between good and evil, black and white, light and dark has been going on as long as there have been humans, going back to the Garden of Eden. We are rooting for the Narrator to survive these trials, even though if we step outside the tale for a second we realize that of course he must have gotten through if he’s telling us this story forty years later. Paul Asay says in his book Burning Bush 2.0: “We want the good guys to survive and the bad guys to get their due. That’s Storytelling 101” (68). This could be why we still say someone has an Achilles heel or posesses the Midas touch, and why we study tragedies like Oedipus and Medea in courses like this one. For as the Narrator tells us: “I liked myths. They weren’t adult stories and they weren’t children’s stories. They were better than that. They just were” (53). Asay continues: “There are echoes of a universal right and wrong here –and the belief that the universe itself will punish wrongdoers.” (Bush 68).
     Gaiman’s description is very vivid and cinematic, and his narration flows like dialogue, which “either moves the story along or reveals information about the character,” as screenwriter Syd Field wrote in The Screenwriter’s Problem Solver (183). The details he points out to us often accomplish both tasks. We never learn the Narrator’s name, but because Gaiman is able, to quote Field again, to “feel comfortable in his [character’s] skin, the dialogue [is] individual and appropriate,” capturing the character of that character (183). We feel with him the terror and revulsion of the adults’ way of looking at things, their conventional way of skipping to the boring, nonessential tasks. Adults have stories that never make sense to a child’s mind; “They made me feel like there were secrets, masonic, mythic secrets, to adulthood. Why didn’t adults want to read about Narnia, about secret islands and smugglers and dangerous fairies?” the Narrator wonders on page 53. Gaiman the author might have answered his creation’s question in “What the [Swearword]…” where he points out that adults often look for logical, well-thought-out answers. Authors, and stories, are not very good at giving those appropriate answers. They are very good, however, at giving answers which may be “unreliable, personal, anecdotal and highly imaginative. These things can be drawbacks.” Towards the end of the article, Gaiman admits to the reader what he knew all along: “You do not come to authors for answers. You come to us for questions. We’re really good at questions.” The reader is left to puzzle out answers to many of the questions Ocean raises on his or her own, which is part of the reader-writer contract, because, like Tolkien said, “Fairy stories [are] plainly not primarily concerned with possibility, but with desirability.” This could be why the concept of fanfiction is so popular, giving a second or third (or sixteenth) chance at getting that favorite couple from that one TV show back together again.
     “A story only matters, I suspect, to the extent that the people in the story change,” the Narrator concludes on page 170. But it should be remembered that the reader is one of the people on the journey that the plot takes, and so perhaps that is Gaiman the author speaking there. Words have power, and stories can changes lives. If the reader is changed – inspired to encourage others, made more courageous, makes up or changes their ideas on an issue – then the story matters.  
Works Cited
Asay, Paul. Burning Bush 2.0: How Pop Culture Replaced the Prophet. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015. Print.
Field, Syd. The Screenwriter’s Problem Solver: How to Recognize, Identify, and Define Screenwriting Problems. New York: Dell, 1998. Print.
Gaiman, Neil. The Ocean at the End of the Lane. New York: William Morrow, 2013. Print.
-----------------. “What the [Very Bad Swearword] Is a Children’s Book Anyway?” Horn Book Magazine 88.6 (2012) 10-22. Professional Development Collection. Web. 5 November 2015.
King, Stephen. On Writing. New York: Scribner, 2000. Print.

Tolkien, J.R.R. “On Fairy Stories”. 1947. University of California – San Diego. PDF file. 5 November 2015. 

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Relative Yuletide

      The workshopped villanelle for Dr. Mackie's Poetry Writing course. Most of the discussion that followed was trading stories of Christmas traditions, but most people enjoyed this poem.

Gather ‘round the Christmas tree
while we swap stories and sing carols;
it’s life as we celebrate the Nativity.

It could be the season, or maybe just Kerri,
but holiday fun is arguing with Sheryl
as we gather ‘round the Christmas tree.

Baking pies and those famous Mueller Cookies,
Tim’s feeding that barn kitten – (probably feral?)
It’s life as we celebrate the Nativity

Grandma clipping coupons with Hailey,
catclaws putting ornaments in peril
As we gather ‘round the Christmas tree.

While the rest of us watch Jimmy Stewart on TV
the boys hang out at the burn barrel;
It’s life as we celebrate the Nativity.

Matt updates us on his master’s degree,
“…Don we now our gay apparel…”
Gather ‘round the Christmas tree

as we celebrate the Nativity.