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.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
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?
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