The most interesting thing about this writing assignment was the group aspect. The process of writing something with other people is quite strange. I have my own style of writing and my own ideas for things, as does everyone else. So, when you have to create a piece of writing together, it's, actually, really hard. No matter what everyone feigns to believe, working with other people is difficult.
Now, that's not to say that working with my group members was not enjoyable at all, because we definitely had fun and did a lot of good thinking and collaborating. Sometimes, it's great having those other people to bounce ideas off of and grab thoughts from when you're totally dry. But, then, other times, it's annoying having to listen to other people's ideas when you really just want to put down what's in your head.
In terms of our group, we did really well together. There's obviously dominating and more submissive group members, there always is. Those are the things that make your group strong and able to work together. Without those leaders or followers everything would be chaos.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Metacognition: Jane Eyre
My mom told me that I would love Jane Eyre. I hate when my mom's right.
I loved the novel for precisely two reasons.
First, it was 19th century! Contrary to the opinions of some of my classmates, that concept drew me in. Whenever I see something historical, I feel this almost magnetic pull towards it. My mind craves that sense of the past, that portal to yesteryear. Why? I have no idea... But, when I would start reading, I would drift away, and find myself transplanted into the story: I could see the trees; I could hear the horses hooves, clopping along the brick road into Milton; Thornfield's sitting room was all around me; Jane was at my side. It was almost like heaven... (Yes, I know I'm a nerd...)
And second, the language. Oh, the language. It was lush; it was rich; it was quintessentially 19th century, and that was great. Modern novels (although some are masterful) are sometimes so painfully to the point and minimalist. I'm not saying that a candid, word saving style is not beautiful; it definitely can be. But, for me, personally, Brontes style is so much more alluring, so organic, so unknown. You get the feeling that she is just pouring out her heart threw her hand, and I could not rip myself away.
Although here, I am being somewhat modernly minimalist in my explanation, opposed to my sometimes garralous (notice the use of a vocab word) blogposts, those two things which I loved the most about Jane Eyre are things I would love to emulate. I'm not living in the 19th century, no. And that's what I think the novel taught me the most, that someday, probably in the far, far future, I'd like to write like Bronte, be like Bronte.
...but never stop being myself of course.
I loved the novel for precisely two reasons.
First, it was 19th century! Contrary to the opinions of some of my classmates, that concept drew me in. Whenever I see something historical, I feel this almost magnetic pull towards it. My mind craves that sense of the past, that portal to yesteryear. Why? I have no idea... But, when I would start reading, I would drift away, and find myself transplanted into the story: I could see the trees; I could hear the horses hooves, clopping along the brick road into Milton; Thornfield's sitting room was all around me; Jane was at my side. It was almost like heaven... (Yes, I know I'm a nerd...)
And second, the language. Oh, the language. It was lush; it was rich; it was quintessentially 19th century, and that was great. Modern novels (although some are masterful) are sometimes so painfully to the point and minimalist. I'm not saying that a candid, word saving style is not beautiful; it definitely can be. But, for me, personally, Brontes style is so much more alluring, so organic, so unknown. You get the feeling that she is just pouring out her heart threw her hand, and I could not rip myself away.
Although here, I am being somewhat modernly minimalist in my explanation, opposed to my sometimes garralous (notice the use of a vocab word) blogposts, those two things which I loved the most about Jane Eyre are things I would love to emulate. I'm not living in the 19th century, no. And that's what I think the novel taught me the most, that someday, probably in the far, far future, I'd like to write like Bronte, be like Bronte.
...but never stop being myself of course.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
360 Degrees: The Euro
"The euro will raise the citizens' awareness of their belonging to one Europe more than any other integration step to date.” ~ Gerhard Schroeder
For some strange, inexplicable reason, the Euro (yes, like the currency) popped into my head as a subject for this blog post. I've decided to run with it.
Alright, let's first establish that you either think a cross-continental currency is a good thing or a bad thing, or you could be indifferent, I suppose. I personally can't decide (like always). But, I actually have semi-intelligent reasons.
On the pro-Euro side, I think that it promotes a greater unity in Europe that never really existed before. Since the fall of the Roman Empire, the diverse peoples of Europe have been brutally slaughtering each other. Only recently, as of the 1990s, has that ceased. Maybe the Euro won't stop the onset of another world war that has roots in European conflict. But, then again, maybe that extra sense of togetherness that is being promoted right now across the continent, will be the straw that did not break the camels back (please excuse the horrendous cliche that I just shamefully utilized). There's also the argument of simple convenience. France and Italy are about as far apart as Illinois and Michigan; can you imagine having to change your money to go to Michigan? Not to mention, what if you stopped at a rest stop in Indiana (assuming that you're going to the lower peninsula) and had to change your money there too? It would just be a hassle...
As for the anti-Euro argument, the Euro destroys some of the last bits of cultural identity every European country has. Globalization has gone too far; way too far. If I am French, I want to see someone who was born in France, someone who speaks French, someone who legitimately loves cheese that smells (and sometimes tastes) like rotten arm-pits, on my money, not some graphically pleasant European symbol of "unity". Seriously, what's next? A cross-continental language to rob us of our tongues (oh wait, they already tried that...)?
I obviously took it a little too far in the last paragraph, but nevertheless, I think both sides have a point. Then, there is, the indifferent side. But I need not explain their stance, it's self-explanatory.
The one thing I'm really curious about is what the people in Europe actually feel about the Euro. I mean, I've been to Europe three times (one of them was in England, and they are too British to use the Euro) and I never heard anything from the people, either way. They were in no way cursing out the money when we gave it to them (in fact they happily accepted it). Are they suppressing some burning pit if bottomless hate and resentment? Maybe...??
For some strange, inexplicable reason, the Euro (yes, like the currency) popped into my head as a subject for this blog post. I've decided to run with it.
Alright, let's first establish that you either think a cross-continental currency is a good thing or a bad thing, or you could be indifferent, I suppose. I personally can't decide (like always). But, I actually have semi-intelligent reasons.
On the pro-Euro side, I think that it promotes a greater unity in Europe that never really existed before. Since the fall of the Roman Empire, the diverse peoples of Europe have been brutally slaughtering each other. Only recently, as of the 1990s, has that ceased. Maybe the Euro won't stop the onset of another world war that has roots in European conflict. But, then again, maybe that extra sense of togetherness that is being promoted right now across the continent, will be the straw that did not break the camels back (please excuse the horrendous cliche that I just shamefully utilized). There's also the argument of simple convenience. France and Italy are about as far apart as Illinois and Michigan; can you imagine having to change your money to go to Michigan? Not to mention, what if you stopped at a rest stop in Indiana (assuming that you're going to the lower peninsula) and had to change your money there too? It would just be a hassle...
As for the anti-Euro argument, the Euro destroys some of the last bits of cultural identity every European country has. Globalization has gone too far; way too far. If I am French, I want to see someone who was born in France, someone who speaks French, someone who legitimately loves cheese that smells (and sometimes tastes) like rotten arm-pits, on my money, not some graphically pleasant European symbol of "unity". Seriously, what's next? A cross-continental language to rob us of our tongues (oh wait, they already tried that...)?
I obviously took it a little too far in the last paragraph, but nevertheless, I think both sides have a point. Then, there is, the indifferent side. But I need not explain their stance, it's self-explanatory.
The one thing I'm really curious about is what the people in Europe actually feel about the Euro. I mean, I've been to Europe three times (one of them was in England, and they are too British to use the Euro) and I never heard anything from the people, either way. They were in no way cursing out the money when we gave it to them (in fact they happily accepted it). Are they suppressing some burning pit if bottomless hate and resentment? Maybe...??
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Inconvenient Truth: Band of Brothers
“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be never so vile. This day shall gentle his condition. And gentlemen in England now abed shall think themselves accursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.” ~ William Shakespeare in Henry V
This spring break I had nothing to do. My friends had all jet-setted off to Florida, Hawaii, or the Caribbean. I was stuck, in Northbrook, with my dog.
On Monday night, I started rummaging through our dvd collection and came across Band of Brothers, an HBO miniseries about a parachute infantry company during World War II. My dad always says that it's the best thing that has ever been on television...
I put it in.
Over the course of the week, I watched all ten episodes. They were filled with victory and loss, death and life, elation and devastation. It was captivating. It was real. My dad was right.
In the episode where the company is fighting at the Battle of the Bulge, one of the main characters says that in a different time, the men he is fighting against and putting all of his energy into destroying, might have been his friends. Maybe they like to hunt, and he likes to fish. He finally realizes that the men he is fighting are not the most terrible people on the face of the earth. They're not evil; they're not malicious. Just like him, they're trying to do their jobs and get home to their wives and children.
It's like there is some light bulb that clicks into everyone's head, even civilians, when there's a war. They are the enemy. They must die. Whoever they are, be it the Germans, the Soviets, the Vietnamese, or the Iraqis, we are against all of them. They're all the same. They are all bad.
But who is it really that we hate? Who's the bad guy? It's their government, their leaders, who, ironically enough, are quite often oppressing their own people to the point that they hate them too. So then why do we hate them all? Why do we channel all of our agression towards people who either have nothing to do with politics whatsoever, or hate their leaders as much as we do?
Furthermore, it's the leaders who are making all of this conflict. Why don't they fight themselves, instead of sending innocent people out to die for a cause they barely even understand or care about?
This spring break I had nothing to do. My friends had all jet-setted off to Florida, Hawaii, or the Caribbean. I was stuck, in Northbrook, with my dog.
On Monday night, I started rummaging through our dvd collection and came across Band of Brothers, an HBO miniseries about a parachute infantry company during World War II. My dad always says that it's the best thing that has ever been on television...
I put it in.
Over the course of the week, I watched all ten episodes. They were filled with victory and loss, death and life, elation and devastation. It was captivating. It was real. My dad was right.
In the episode where the company is fighting at the Battle of the Bulge, one of the main characters says that in a different time, the men he is fighting against and putting all of his energy into destroying, might have been his friends. Maybe they like to hunt, and he likes to fish. He finally realizes that the men he is fighting are not the most terrible people on the face of the earth. They're not evil; they're not malicious. Just like him, they're trying to do their jobs and get home to their wives and children.
It's like there is some light bulb that clicks into everyone's head, even civilians, when there's a war. They are the enemy. They must die. Whoever they are, be it the Germans, the Soviets, the Vietnamese, or the Iraqis, we are against all of them. They're all the same. They are all bad.
But who is it really that we hate? Who's the bad guy? It's their government, their leaders, who, ironically enough, are quite often oppressing their own people to the point that they hate them too. So then why do we hate them all? Why do we channel all of our agression towards people who either have nothing to do with politics whatsoever, or hate their leaders as much as we do?
Furthermore, it's the leaders who are making all of this conflict. Why don't they fight themselves, instead of sending innocent people out to die for a cause they barely even understand or care about?
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Dialectics: Short Story and Poetry Writing
After reading so many short stories and poems over the course of the year, I have come to an inevitable, yet nonetheless illuminating, conclusion. The best poets and short story writers would never be as good as they are without each other. There is no stark, crisp line drawn between the two genres. Not at all.
From poets, short story writers (and novelists too I suppose) learn the art of precise language and the art of rhythmic writing. No one can say that short story writers do not have to read poetry because that's not what they do. It is just, plain false. When you read their writing, the words are put together like a masterpiece, the same way poetry flows with endless brilliance. Who do you think they learned that from?
From short story writers, poets learn the power of character development and story telling. Each poem is like a mini-story in and of itself. There's all of the emotion and conflict that a short story (or even full-blown novel) has. And their inspirations?
Seeing as I have written both this year (even though one is still in progress), realizing that both influence and inform each other will only make my writing that much better.
From poets, short story writers (and novelists too I suppose) learn the art of precise language and the art of rhythmic writing. No one can say that short story writers do not have to read poetry because that's not what they do. It is just, plain false. When you read their writing, the words are put together like a masterpiece, the same way poetry flows with endless brilliance. Who do you think they learned that from?
From short story writers, poets learn the power of character development and story telling. Each poem is like a mini-story in and of itself. There's all of the emotion and conflict that a short story (or even full-blown novel) has. And their inspirations?
Seeing as I have written both this year (even though one is still in progress), realizing that both influence and inform each other will only make my writing that much better.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Blogging Around: Take 3!
1. Rachel's blog on Heart of Darkness Discussions
I definitely agree with Rachel on this. HoD could have been extremely confusing. But, it was really brought to life through our discussions. Things that I didn't understand in the night's reading, my classmates clarified, and things that they didn't understand, I could sometimes make light of. I don't believe that any of us could have read this novel without each other. Or, at least, if we could, we couldn't have understood it with the great depth that we did, without each other. Therefore, reading HoD was truly a class project.
2. Jordyn's blog on Ke$ha
I also have to disagree. I don't think that American pop music has "fallen" per say. I think that it has changed along with the times. Of course, people aren't singing with one mic and an old guitar about the sunflowers anymore because our society isn't like that anymore. Our technology is way advanced and, like Meghana said, we are now open to more open sexuality. Ergo, our music is more about sexuality. And, on the subject of the sounds being "dubbed" and such. I quite like the beat of the song, it's modern. The music of the 18th century is totally different than that of the 17th century or 16th century, and so on. Same with the music of the 2000s and the 1960s. In fact, if it wasn't different, I would worry. Our music shows the changes in our world and how we are progressing. If our music was the same, we wouldn't be progressing...
I definitely agree with Rachel on this. HoD could have been extremely confusing. But, it was really brought to life through our discussions. Things that I didn't understand in the night's reading, my classmates clarified, and things that they didn't understand, I could sometimes make light of. I don't believe that any of us could have read this novel without each other. Or, at least, if we could, we couldn't have understood it with the great depth that we did, without each other. Therefore, reading HoD was truly a class project.
2. Jordyn's blog on Ke$ha
I also have to disagree. I don't think that American pop music has "fallen" per say. I think that it has changed along with the times. Of course, people aren't singing with one mic and an old guitar about the sunflowers anymore because our society isn't like that anymore. Our technology is way advanced and, like Meghana said, we are now open to more open sexuality. Ergo, our music is more about sexuality. And, on the subject of the sounds being "dubbed" and such. I quite like the beat of the song, it's modern. The music of the 18th century is totally different than that of the 17th century or 16th century, and so on. Same with the music of the 2000s and the 1960s. In fact, if it wasn't different, I would worry. Our music shows the changes in our world and how we are progressing. If our music was the same, we wouldn't be progressing...
Monday, March 1, 2010
Best of the Week: Short Stories
Finally, we have started short stories. Although I find poetry interesting and captivating to a certain degree, I am not enamored with it. Maybe I don't understand it enough? Maybe some people just aren't real "poetry people." I can appreciate poetry, and I put poets in very high esteem. But either way, I much prefer short stories.
It's interesting for me to read them, because, I could see myself writing them someday. For some reason, in my mind, they seem more manageable than writing long, sometimes monotonous novels. I know that there isn't that much money in short story writing, which, in reality, should probably bother me, and maybe it will someday, but it doesn't now. I'm genuinely excited to start reading short stories, and my mind is absolutely teeming with ideas about writing my own (which I've been told we do...). I'm obviously not going to confess them all here, because where would the fun be in that? But, I will say, that reading these short stories, like Cathedral, is already helping with the undeveloped ideas swimming inside my racking brain.
It's interesting for me to read them, because, I could see myself writing them someday. For some reason, in my mind, they seem more manageable than writing long, sometimes monotonous novels. I know that there isn't that much money in short story writing, which, in reality, should probably bother me, and maybe it will someday, but it doesn't now. I'm genuinely excited to start reading short stories, and my mind is absolutely teeming with ideas about writing my own (which I've been told we do...). I'm obviously not going to confess them all here, because where would the fun be in that? But, I will say, that reading these short stories, like Cathedral, is already helping with the undeveloped ideas swimming inside my racking brain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
