I Am A Rock

I remember being a child and how the days seemed to always creep by. Slowly, ever so slowly, they would pass and by the time summer was over, I couldn't wait to go back to school. I had felt like had I had traveled the world over the summer, that I had explored every crevice of my hometown that I could find. I remember waking up and eating a quick bowl of cereal before I would give up the day to the outdoors. It is funny how some things never leave your memory. I will admit, I was a careful child, and yet I always managed to come home with a newly developed bruise or deep green grass stain.

And because of all of these childhood memories, there are things in nature that will always be linked to those carefree, wild-at-heart days. The smell of freshly mowed grass will always put the image of my father behind a lawn mower into my head. The smell of chlorine will forever be linked to my hometown pool and the many adventures I had there. Seeing a patch of rocks piled on the road will always remind me of the time I fell on my bike and scraped the entire side of my leg (I was horrified and thought fir sure I was going to die or at least need stitches - neither of which happened).

Granted, I never grew up on a farm out out in the country. I've lived in a town or city my whole life and the one time I went hunting was a horrific experience. Therefore, I can say my experiences in true nature are somewhat limited to camping trips and childhood explorations. I do not think, however, that this hinders my experience. In fact, all I have to do is step outside my door to feel the wind on my cheek and the sunshine hit my skin to know nature. All I have to do is slip off my man-made materiel shoes and step my feet onto the prickly grass to know how beautiful it is.

Winter is an amazing thing. It comes slowly and goes quickly, leaving behind it a mess of dirt, dead grass, and floods. Yet it is one of the most amazing experiences, one that I would not trade for 365 days of straight, 70 degree weather. Oh, how I would miss watching the snow fall to the ground, seeing the flakes as they gather on my glove, each one of them their own individual shape and size. I would long for the smell of freshly brewed coffee as it wafted through the house while the weather channel blared in the background, bringing with it news of the up and coming snow storm.

One of my favorite parts of winter, however, is watching it leave. Winter months always seem to creep by ever so slowly. Cold days requiring hats, jackets, boots, and gloves seem to last forever. Yet, one day I wake up, look around, and all has changed. Suddenly the sun is not so far away and instead of feeling distant rays, there is a stunning warmth. On these days, you can sit outside an watch the snow as it melts and forms a stream all of its own. These times are so glorious, as I sit outside, enjoying the longer days, I watch the rebirth of the world around me. The grass changes from a dead, brown color to a brilliant green, trees bud into life, red robins appear with fat bellies, reminding me that spring is blossoming. And I get to watch it all happen!

As an adult, I don't think it's as easy to view the outside world with the childlike innocence I once had. Age and education have taught me things about nature that I would not have thought comprehending as a child. And yet, even if the innocence is gone, the appreciation will last forever. I may know how or why something happens, but I will never be able to understand the full gloriousness of it. All I can do is sit and watch the world as it cycles, always amazed at its ever changing elegance, thanking God for allowing me to witness His beauty first hand.

As I was thinking about this blog post after class on Friday, this song happened to come up on my ipod and I thought, "Thoreau would really appreciate this." So, in honor, I am posting it in memory of Thoreau and also for your own enjoyment.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=My9I8q-iJCI

"We are Determined to be Starved before we are Hungry"

With America's economy as it has been, it was pretty refreshing to read Thoreau's "Economy." I think it would be beneficial for the country as a whole to go back and read it, in fact.

Now, of course there is no denying that life in the 1800's was vastly different than it is today. I believe, however, we can learn a lot from our ancestors, particularly Thoreau's perspective. All throughout "Economy" he stresses the how beneficial it is to live a life of simplicity. He says,

"Most men, even in this comparatively free country, through mere ignorance and mistake, are so occupied with the factitious cares and superfluously course labors of life that it's finer fruits cannot be plucked by them."

How true is this, even today! American's are so concerned with having the best of the best, toiling at jobs day in and day our just to make money to buy useless things. Our society is concerned only with having the "best of the best" that we often live a life of endless searching, never content with the things we have in the here and now.

I think we would all benefit from taking advice from Emerson. Personally, I think life would be much more enjoyable were we able to focus our attention on the every day beauty of life, like nature and God's glory, rather than the latest fashion or having the biggest house on the block.

Both "Economy" and "Where I Lived" where very inspirational pieces to me. Thoreau was much easier to read than Emerson. His words flowed well, one into the next, and I greatly appreciated his use of language. Thoreau is definitely an author I would read again.

When He Can Read God Directly

While I enjoyed "American Scholar" by Emerson very much, I don't think I would be speaking honestly if I said the same thing about "Nature." There were pieces of it that I enjoyed here and there, but overall I found it a bit difficult to understand.

I found the part where he talks about books to be particularly interesting. In one part he says,

"Meek young men grow up in libraries, believing it their duty to accept the views which Cicero, which Locke, which Bacon have given, forgetful that Cicero, Locke, and Bacon were only young men in libraries when they wrote these books." (pg. 523)

When I fist read this, I literally laughed out loud. There is a lot of truth to it, but I think at the same time Emerson is too keen on passing of the importance of books. Maybe my credibility in that statement can be thrown out the window because I'm an English major, and therefore, books are held in the highest respect to me. His description here about books, however, is incredibly beautiful:

"It came into him - life; it went out from him - truth. It came to him - short lived actions; it went from him - immortal thoughts. It came to him - business; it went from him - poetry. It was - dead fact; now, it is quick thought. It can stand, and it can go. It now endures, it now flies, it now inspires. Precisely in proportion to the depth of mind from which it issued, so high does it soar, so long does it sing." (pg 522)

And while the way in which he sort of brushes off books bothers me a bit, I have to admit he makes a good point when he says that it is not really books that give us knowledge but experience. He says "Books are the best of things, well used; abused, among the worst. What is the right use? What is the one end which all means go to effect? They are for nothing but to inspire."

I can definitely see how Emerson was an inspiration to writers in early American literature. It's almost as though his words act as a sort of call-to-action for writers. He some what stresses an urgency for authors to understand that America is a new country and it must forge it's own identity, especially in literature. I especially like when he says,

"Genius is always sufficiently the enemy of genius by over-influence. The literature of every nation bear me witness. The English dramatic poets have Shakespearized now for two hundred years... When he can read God directly, the hour is too precious to be wasted in other men's transcripts of their readings."

While I didn't really enjoy "Nature" overall, I am grateful for having read it. I think it has given me a better understanding of other authors. If I was given the chance, I would totally sit down and have a cup of coffee with Ralph Waldo Emerson. I think it would go one of two ways: incredibly awkward or inspiring conversation.

Life is our Dictionary

For American Lit this week, we had to read "American Scholar" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I loooved it!

His way of writing is very... Spacey? I'm not sure this is the right word for it, but I am going to go with it. Granted, some of that may have come from the fact that I read it at 2 in the morning but.. I still enjoyed it very much.

I think I marked up his "American Scholar" more so that I have any other selection. There were just so many great quotes. Some of my particular favorites were:

"Thus far, our holiday has been simply a friendly sign of the survival of the love letters, amongst a people too busy to give to letters any more.

In the degenerate state, when victim of society, he tends to become a mere thinker or, still worse, the parrot of other men’s thinking.

The sacredness which attaches to the act of creation - the act of thought - is instantly transferred to the record. The poet chanting, was felt to be a divine man.

To create - to create - is the proof of divine presence. Whatever talents may be, if the man create not, the pure efflux of the Deity is not his; - cinders and smoke, there may be, but not yet flame.”

These are just a few out of loads of quotes I marked. Even as much as I liked him, his prose was somewhat difficult to understand at times. He speaks with a very philosophical dignity, a type of transparent abstraction. I think that is part of what gives it its beauty, however. Even if I don’t necessarily agree with everything he said, I very much appreciated his use of language. He writes absolutely beautifully.

I thought the part where he talked about book worms particularly humorous. I am an English major and I am typically proud to have the title of “book worm” but Emerson’s opinion on the subject matter made me consider it more thoroughly. I am still proud to claim that title, but his points force me to remember that I should not be reading a book and automatically regurgitate the opinion of the author in my own life. It is a reminder of where the “critical thinking” objective that USF is so big on comes into play.

My finishing thoughts are these: I love Emerson, I will probably read more of his work outside of class, and I think USF should include “American Scholar” in LAR classes.

I'm Not Myself

Ah, how glad I am that we are reading some fiction now. Don't take me wrong, I enjoyed some of the earlier selections we've read, but none quite so much as "Rip Van Winkle."

I was trying for the longest time to remember where I had first heard this story but I have succumbed to failure. I know I have never read it before but I knew the whole story line before we were assigned it in class. Who knows. It was probably some cartoon or story book I saw/read as a child and it just stuck.

I thought Irving's perspective on domestic life was quite amusing. I really enjoyed how Dame Van Winkle was painted as the villain, and then to make those connections with Irving's own life. In the introduction it said, after Irving's fiance died, he never married and that single life seemed to suite him well. Reading Rip Van Winkle makes me wonder if he was actually more happy to be single than he would have been married!

Rip Van Winkle seems to be one of those stories that is meant for children but has lines and content that only adults would get. Like Shrek (or for that matter, most animated movies today). It's obviously fantastical but at the same is very heavily rooted in symbolism. I very much appreciated the symbolism in the story, actually. I think it's a lot of fun to dig through stories like this and figure out what the author was intending. Not only that, it's just a FUN story in general!

I found this photo of a guy that played Rip Van Winkle in a very early film adaptation. Which lead me to this...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pelZ43T6Y3E

It's quite amusing. There's no sound because it was made in 1890 but it's more fun to add your own anyway.

Ferris Wheels, Giant Prizes, Cotton Candy, Oh My!

Imagine this: the smell of powdered sugar as you pass the funnel cake stand, the shriek of laughter, a loud "pop" as a dart flies through the center of a balloon, the sound of tinny music while a ferris wheel slowly spins around and around. That's right folks - it's the carnival!

While this carnival may not be nearly as exciting or have quite as many visitors as that of a real carnival but it is still a joyful, merry festival of words! At least, that's what it was like as I was going through and reading everyone's blogs in order to write my carnival post for this section.

There was, as expected, a vast array of opinions on each of the stories we read. However, there were several themes that I saw reoccur on different occasions. One of the first and most popular topics was of slavery. Of course, this was almost a given as quite a few of the stories we read in class approached slavery one on level or another and almost all of them caused some sort of a reaction among the class.

People also seemed to take quite an interest in the authors of each of the stories and their lives. Wheatly, Equiano, Franklin, and Edwards seemed to be of the most interest.

Wheatly was probably the most popular of all the authors. People were especially curious about her life, particularily as an educated slave and female writer. Many bloggers also questioned what her life would have developed into had she survived longer than 30 years.

Equiano appeared to be the second favorite author. "Compelling" was the word of choice when it came to describing Equiano's selection. I would have expected reactions to be somewhat alarmed at his story, however, it seemed that most people found Equiano's tale to be less horrific than others they had read or heard.

Franklin was also another popular pick. There was a wide range of opinions, however, on how much people actually liked it. Most people seemed to have found his attempts to better himself the most interesting part of his Autobiography.

Overall, I was surprised there was not more discussion over the influence of religion in general. While it was considerably less addressed in this section than the previous one, it was still a hot topic of the time period. I expected to see a much larger amount of blogs reacting to Edwards than what there actually are. It could be just because I found him to be so interesting. I sometimes forget that every one else did not feel the same way.

All this talk about carnivals has made me hungry for a fresh bag of cotton candy. Sadly... I think I have to wait for the snow to stop falling, the ice to melt, and temperatures to raise above 32 degrees before I can begin searching for real carnivals. Oh, the anticipation!

I haven't exactly figured out how or why just yet, but I have really come to appreciate poetry since the start of American Lit. It could very well just be because I have really enjoyed all the poetry we have read so far? Maybe it's the fact that, unlike most of the poetry classes I took in high school, we don't beat them over and over again with a hammer.

In any case, I can now add Phyllis Wheatly as a "like" to my slowly growing list of poets. I really enjoyed her poem "Thoughts on the Works of Providence." This stanza especially jumped out at me:

Creation smiles in various beauty gay,

While day to night, and night succeeds to day:

That Wisdom, which attends Jehovah's ways,

Shines most conspicuous in solar rays:

Without them, destitute of heat and light,

This world would be the reign of endless night:

In their excess how would our race complain,

Abhorring life! how hate its lengthened chain!

From air adust what numerous ills would rise?

What dire contagion taint the burning skies?

What pestilential vapors, fraught with death,

Would rise, and overspread the lands beneath? (pg. 423-24)

I just found this stanza to be very hypnotizing. I love the way in which she describes the differences and benefits between day and night and the beauty that comes with each, and then uses them both to point it back to God's graciousness.

I wish Wheatly would have lived longer. It would have been very interesting to see what sort of writer she would have turned into. She was so influential as both a woman and African American writer. I read somewhere that she only lived to be about 31, so imagine what else she could have done had she lived longer!

I found this picture of her on Google:

It was interesting because it was the only one of her I could find that didn't have her sitting with her hand at her chin and a pen in her hand.

I also found this picture of a statue of her in Boston:

But, of course, this has the image I described before. I'm discovering a common theme here....

It's curious that I haven't heard more about her. She is described as an incredibly influential writer, and yet I do not ever really recall hearing about her anywhere. The only thing was, when I was in middle school, I read a somewhat biographical yet still fictitious book about her life that I vaguely recalled while we were discussing Wheatly in class. (The whole time in class I could NOT remember what the book was called and it was driving me crazy, but thanks to Sarah Odens, who coincidently also read the book, the problem has been solved. If you're curious about it, check out her blog because it rocks!)

I'm curious enough about Wheatly that I think I'm going to make it my goal to learn more about her. Wish me luck!

Who Really Decides What it Means to be Barbaric?

And we have now finished the final week before an exam... Is it just me or does time really fly by? Before we know it, it will be midterms... That's a scary thought.

But on to literature.... I'm very glad that we are getting into more works by early African American writers, particularily those that discuss slavery. I really enjoyed Olaudah Equiano's selection from "Narrative of the Life." It was absolutely horrifying and fascinating at the same time.

I thought it was quite comical how in the beginning when Equiano was captured and taken onto a ship run by white people, he was afraid they were going to eat him. He frequently called them "barbaric" in fact, which I find very ironic. The "white" perspective of African's was that they were barbaric, uncivilized, and untamed. But here we have a "black" perspective viewing the white man as the very same thing. And in this case, I think I would have to agree with Equiano. The white community did some very barbaric things in this time in history.

In class, we discussed the whole "American Dream" perspective and the difference between Franklin and Equiano's experiences. During the discussion, I couldn't help but be continually drawn to this line from Equiano:

This gave me new life and spirits: and my heart burned within me, while I thought the time long till I obtained my freedom (pg. 173).

I think that line alone sums up the difference between the two. Franklin, though he was the youngest, was fortunate enough to be born into a white family, which gave him the opportunity to pursue just about anything he chose with some, but very little, restraint. And even more so, he DID just that! Meanwhile, Equiano's "American Dream" is for his freedom alone! What an amazing thought! I know I take for granted the fact that I am a free person, that I can go to school, chose a career, follow the life path of our own desire, do what I want. To read a story such as Equiano's can be a humbling experience. It reminds me of how lucky I am.