Sunday, May 13, 2018

my last blog post ever nbd


            I will admit, I have ragged a LOT on postmodernism this semester, but it really has grown on me since I had so much fun writing my own postmodernist work, albeit probably not as good as Doctorow. I still have my complaints about the genre, but I also understand the appeal about it now.
            What I hate about postmodernism? I really don’t like when authors are obscure on purpose. I can understand hiding plot points so that they can be revealed in a big surprise, but when entire chunks of the novel make simply no sense, in most situations in which I am not required to read by my teacher, I would probably end up giving up and putting the book down – why bother reading something which makes no sense, and more importantly, intends to make no sense?! I think that the main purpose of reading should be for enjoyment and enlightenment, so if the novel is neither fun to read and also is near-impossible to understand, I find it obnoxious and pretentious by the writer.
            However, there are other parts of postmodernism which I love. While writing my semester project, I really enjoyed researching people that were alive at the same time, during various conflicts, and fitting them together so that various people who likely had no effect on real life situations were taken through unlikely paths, leading them to be directly responsible for various wars and events in history. I think the ability to stretch the truth so that it could still be true, but is almost obviously not is one of the best parts about postmodernism, especially when used with respect to historical fiction. Overall, I really enjoyed reading the novels that this class presented us with, and I’m also enjoying Libra, as real and made up characters clash and interact in ways that reveal the very unlikely story of one of the most important events in our country’s history.

Friday, April 20, 2018

Dana ‘forgiving’ and Alice’s death


While reading Kindred, I was especially intrigued by “The Rope,” the section of the novel in which Alice hangs herself and Rufus attempts to replace her with Dana, because Dana won’t try to escape. Rufus seems to truly believe that his actions are reasonable, that Dana will grow to stop hating him, and he seems to see no wrongs with his repeated rapes and other punishments towards slaves.
Continuing to look at this novel from an (extremely non-professional) psychological viewpoint, I think that both his actions and Dana’s actions are quite interesting and can be examined further.
For Dana I think it’s extremely interesting the lengths which she is willing to go for supposed survival. Once Dana realizes that she is in the Antebellum south, her first instinct is a sort of ‘kill or be killed’ instinct. She fights the man who tries to capture her at Alice’s house, and she brings a knife along with her during future visits so that she can fight any slaveowner who comes after her. However, upon realizing that she is the great x~5 grandaughter of Rufus, she proceeds to willingly hand her life over to his family in order to make sure that her family ends up forming, and in turn, herself being born. I think that this intense self-preservation, to the point where she is willing to give up all of her ideals and server the very man who she despises is really interesting. This is something that we see extremely often in so many parts of life – prisoners will give up their country or friends in order to be spared from torture, death, or prison sentences. Friends will rat eachother out to teachers in order to look good. Sports players will cheat and lie in order to stop themselves from getting punished. And more. I think that the way that humans are so willing to give up integrity for self-preservation (and sometimes even less, such as money) is extremely interesting and even sometimes frightening, to say the least. I won’t lie and say that I haven’t cheated and bit my tongue against wrongdoings in order to save my own skin, but it’s something that I regret, and I think it’s valuable for us all to look inside ourselves and attempt just a little bit harder to be more righteous and self-sacrificing.
This thought isn’t as fleshed out, but I also think Rufus’s actions towards his slaves are really interesting. Although he is being taught by Dana that what he is doing is wrong, the vast majority of his society is telling him that raping and abusing slaves is perfectly fine, so that is what he continuously does. His character is really interesting because he is portrayed as just trying to protect himself in some ways, and instead of just trying to be evil, such as his father sometimes seems, Rufus really just seems to think that nothing he does is wrong (excluding his suicidal tendencies after Alice’s death.) I haven’t fully explicated these thoughts, but the way that our parents and society form who we are is really interesting, and a good way to explain divides in understanding between political parties, where one side simply can not understand how the other side can believe a specific idea.
Unrelated to Kindred, but I was thinking about Libra and conspiracy theories and found this. It’s worth a watch and a bit of research/reading – really really scary stuff about the media we intake.


Saturday, April 7, 2018

Inside Kevin's Brain


The recent Kindred reading has really got me thinking about time travel. In the beginning of The Storm, we see Dana and Kevins return to 1976. Although Dana wasn’t gone for long, Kevin was away from the present (past for us) 1900s for 5 years, and he’s forgotten many basic things about the modern world, such as how to handle appliances that weren’t even dreamed of in the antebellum South. In addition, when it comes to writing, Kevin feels only rage and lashes out, because likely he feels that with all of his experiences, he no longer can write about anything that he previously did – his whole life had changed.
I think that this is a really interesting take on time travel. The contrast between Dana and Kevin is stark – Dana greets 1976 with happiness, although she does briefly think that she also feels more at home at the Weylins than in her “new” house. From Dana, we get one perspective of time travel. We see that modern-day America is miles ahead both technologically and socially from what she had been experiencing, and we feel a great sense of relief because she is back in a time where she is no longer in danger. However, Kevin brings to us a different take on time travel. Kevin deals with a harsh psychological battle which I find extremely interesting. The effect of living for 5 years in the 1800s has made Kevin believe that he is more at home in that time. After experiencing none of the pleasantries of the 1970s for over 5 years, while aging and maturing, Kevin seems to have lost much of his ability to function back in the normal time, along with his temper. I think that this is a really interesting and valid take on the psychological effects that time travelling could have on the time traveler.
Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about the fragility of the human mind. I was posed the question – would I stay alone in a room with nothing but a bed, the necessary food and water, and a chair for 30 days if I were to receive 10 million dollars at the end of the month. I at first thought that the obvious answer was yes – 10 million dollars is an incredible amount of time. After seeing what many other people replied, I realized just how much of a hit the human brain would take from 30 days of solitary confinement, which is viewed as one of the harshest forms of possible punishment. I brought this take on the human mind over to my reading of Kindred, and with that, I tried my best to realize just what kind of effect 5 years in the early 1800s would have on Kevins mind.
For the readers of my blog I pose you two questions. Firstly, do you think that YOU would take up the offer of 30 days of solitary confinement for 10,000,000$? In addition, what do you think of Kevin’s reaction to returning to 1976? Is it valid? How do you think you would react?

Friday, March 16, 2018

5


Reading Slaughterhouse Five, I was most struck by Vonnegut’s take on death, especially death in war. The repeated phrase, “So it goes,” resonates deeply with me. I think that the idea that death is inevitable for all involved in war is an important message that Vonnegut is trying to convey. 

The most important part of Billy's life are his capture and imprisonment by the Germans. Billy’s capture begins with him as an inexperienced and unprepared soldier behind enemy lines, found by 3 fellow Americans and eventually captured by a group of German soldiers. One of the Americans who finds Billy is Roland Weary, a mentally deranged, egoistic man who seems to be suffering from “hero disorder”. Roland constantly views himself as hero destined to save the Americans and bring them back to safe ground. Roland saw the war as a means to prove himself “His war story was at a very exciting point” where he was more occupied with his dreams than reality. Despite his dreams of success Roland is captured along with Billy by the Germans and eventually dies due to gangrene from improper footwear. With this statement, Vonnegut is showing that no matter what motivates or drives a person in war (in Roland’s case personal achievement) death is inevitable. 

This can also be seen in the story of Edgar Derby who Billy meets as they are moved to the Slaughterhouse POW camp. An aged school teacher who join the fight due to his patriotic beliefs, “Derby had pulled political wires to get into the army at his age.” Throughout the novel, every time Edgar is mentioned we hear of his death either through the use of “Poor old” or a more depictive scene of his execution “Somewhere in there the poor old high school teacher, Edgar Derby, was caught with a teapot he had taken from the catacombs. He was arrested for plundering. He was tried and shot.” Despite the valid and perhaps noble reasons to enter the war against the rules, Edgar died. Death was inevitable and the suffering of war could not be explained. 

What do you think about Vonnegut’s take on death? Do you think that all death is inevitable, and the only thing that can come out of war is death?

Friday, March 2, 2018

Mumbo Jumbo vs Ragtime and Postmodernism


After reading both Ragtime and Mumbo Jumbo, I feel like I have been introduced to a good idea of what a postmodernist historical fiction book looks like. However, as we wrap up with our reading of Mumbo Jumbo, I feel a sense of relief, as I personally didn’t enjoy the writing style of Ishmael Reed, and his love for confusion. I think that the content of the book is extremely good, and that the social critique on white appropriation of black culture in contrast with atonism and an unwillingness to accept black culture was interesting. I felt like I was able to gain a decent understanding of the authors opinions on racial relations and interactions at the time, and I was also able to learn some about the history of religions and beliefs within Haitian, African American, and Egyption cultures.
However, I am entirely not in favor of how the book was written. I enjoyed Ragtime – the book started confusing, and each chapter would leave you scratching your head, wondering what was going on. However, as we reached the end of the book, all of the pieces fell into place, and as the reader, I was left with an “aha!” moment, in which I felt like I understood everything, and I felt like I could really fashion a critique and an opinion on the book and the message it was trying to convey. On the opposite side of the spectrum, I was not pleased with the way that Mumbo Jumbo ended, with a sudden fizzling out of the story, leaving you with as many questions about Jew Grew as you had when it started. I felt like although there was good intent in the novel, and while I still learned a great deal from it, the execution was so postmodernist and experimental that it was hard to process and take seriously.
I know there may be many that disagree with me, but personally, postmodernism just isn’t sitting well with me. I find the readings to sometimes be painful to try to process and work through, and I feel like at some point, the author “toying” with the reader becomes painfully annoying as opposed to interesting and new. I’d like to know your thoughts as my classmates on postmodernism – do you disagree with me? Is there a new approach that I should take towards reading these novels which will help me grasp them to a better degree?

Friday, February 9, 2018

Ragtime Wrapup

Ragtime Wrapup
After finishing Ragtime, it feels like all the pieces of a puzzle have fallen in place – what was originally a confusing mash of stories mixed in seemingly random interactions and ironic opinions was fleshed out in the end to a powerful story about race relations, corporate America, and ragtime music. Following are my thoughts on the book and its ideas.
First, about wealth and corporate America – I thought that Doctorow’s depiction of the wealthy men of America, specifically those of Henry Ford and his viewing of workers as cogs in a machine aligned with mine. I appreciated his mockery of both J.P. Morgan and his dinner guests as showing the delusions of grandeur and the cruelty that the rich can hold. I thought his criticism of one’s ability to “make it” in America were valid, citing J.P. Morgan being born into wealth.
Secondly, on Doctorow’s use of history. At first, I thought that it was unecessarily trying to appear postmodernist, or unique, but in time, I grew to really appreciate the way that Doctorow toyed with history, throwing random historical and made up characters into scenes of all sorts, having them interact by one in a million chances, and using convenient excuses such as lost notebooks to leave a shadow of a doubt, as if to say “yeah, this could have happened. Who are you to prove it didn’t?”
I think that Doctorow’s novel paints an important picture. He explores society at the time, looking at the change in generations between Father and Mother’s Younger Brother. By showing the difference between the old generation, unwilling to change their opinions; and the new generation, full of socialists, freedom fighters, and people searching for equality, he helps show the forces which have formed America into what it is today. By painting the picture of Coalhouse Walker Jr., he continues to delve into race relations in America, while simultaneously telling the narrative of a man filled with emotion and dimension. Coalhouse’s story serves both to show the importance of wealth and race in America, while providing a sad backstory of Sarah’s death and showing what grief can drive a person to do.

I will conclude with a question for the comment section: do you think that Mumbo Jumbo will wrap up in a similar way? Will all of the pieces fall together, with a sudden “aha!” moment where everything is crystal clear and we know “Oh, that’s what jes’ grew really is. I understand all the nuances of the characters now!”, or do you think that we’ll be left scratching our heads by Reed?

Saturday, January 27, 2018

Morgan's not actually a bad guy like if you met him you might like him

As we’ve read Ragtime, I’ve grown particularly interested in Doctorow’s depiction of the rich, specifically as seen through J. P. Morgan. I think that Doctorow’s evident distaste and mocking of the rich is intriguing, and I wanted to do some research into Morgan, his money, and his personality.
Doctorow comments on Morgan’s lack of a rags to riches, “American” story, ironically pointing out that he was born into no small amount of money. In fact, Morgan attributed his success in life “more than anything to the endorsement of [his] father’s friends.” This is something I actually dislike about the classic Horatio Alger story. In the situation where Morgan’s parents were successful and did make money, why should it make their child any less worthy to make money, hold money, and grow an empire that extends past the borders of countries? Especially in a situation where Morgan recognizes his background, unlike the well-used example of Donald Trump, there should be no reason to shame somebody from coming from a wealthy background, as they have no say in their bearing.

In addition, Doctorow seems to portray Morgan as ‘unamerican.’ He talks about how Morgan has bailed the government out of debt and seems to portray Morgan as somebody who is a citizen of only his money, basically ruling the world. Morgan has seemingly surpassed America, and now seems himself as a reincarnated Pharaoh. Doctorow portrays Morgan in a harsh light, making him seem self-absorbed and petty, but I find myself sympathizing with the character in some ways. When he is dining with the other rich men, and finds them very trite and annoying, it could perhaps be because he is looking in the wrong places for companionship. Perhaps Morgan is being bound by the very wealth that has freed him from all restraints, and due to his inability to interact with the lower classes such as Evelyn Nesbit does with Tateh, he cannot find the people with whom he deems to be on his level. I think that although Doctorow makes Morgan into an undesirable character, he has his redeemable qualities.