Literary Cadences or "The End"

Week 11

Peace, love and war


Throughout this blog, I’ve tried to document the progression of notions of good and Evil held by early Americans. I, as I’ve said before, believe that America was founded as a Utopia, and for anyone who was read, Paradise Lost, or The Handmaid’s Tale, or countless other Utopian novels, there is no such thing as a Utopia, only dystopia.

From the beginning, when pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock, had the first thanksgiving and ultimately started a war with the Native Americans, America has been doomed. I’m not a very cynical person, but I do believe that there are many ignorant people in this country who still have the wool pulled over their eyes. There are many facts that are glossed over in history books for example: 1. Native Americans were killed before and after the first Thanksgiving; 2. The first colonies indeed had slaves from very early in their development; 3. Many of the founding fathers had slaves and even had children with their women slaves, just ask Mr. Jefferson; 4. The Gettysburg Address did NOT end slavery. Honestly, I could keep going on and on, but these are some of the main ideas I have weaved throughout my blog series.

America is like a peacock. Have you ever seen a peacock up-close? They distract you with their brilliant colors, their pretty blues, greens and purples. They really don’t want you to see their ugly brown butts. Ok maybe not the best analogy. But I feel like much of what America has done in “self-preservation” has been similar to a peacocks feathers and a macho mans strut. I was going to add in something about a woman here as well, but I don’t think I can. Really, I don’t think women have come as far as we think. It is all, peacock-ness included, for show.

I said this in one of my early blogs, about not being able to “un-know” something. Just like when bad information circulates around, it can never be reabsorbed, there will always be someone who still thinks Miley Cyrus is dead, Elvis is alive, Obama is Muslim and the Gettysburg Address freed slaves. The delusions started early in our history, and really, had the Puritans learned that Native Americas were exactly the same as they were, only a different culture, maybe American would have turned out better.

But instead, we have built upon an invisible foundation. Like ice blocks, melting over time, this fantasy that we are a stable country is coming back to bite us in the butt. Whatever happened to (get ready for a Backstreet Boy quote) “What makes you different makes you beautiful” this isn’t a new idea but from the beginning America has persecuted. From Native Americans, to slavery, to Japanese, to the poor, to the rich, to the gay, straight, lesbian differences, America is not tolerant. Individually people may be, but until there is no persecution, there will always be persecution. Until there is no conflict, there will be no peace.

So how does this fit in with good and evil? I don’t think any country should be able to decide for any other country, any human decide for any other human, any religion decide for any other religion, or any culture decide for any other culture what is right, wrong, good, bad, left right, sane, insane. How can they? All, ALL of these things are social constructs. And as Poe helped us uncover, how can you follow a social construct when the society at large who construct the ideals may not be trustworthy, or sane, or good, or right. How do you break free from the social constructs that have lasted centuries, or even since the very beginning? Is it possible? Have we really doomed ourselves as a nation, by starting down this path of non-growth? I honestly think we have. America has hit the glass ceiling, or will some day. I think it is more of a box that we can’t see yet, but either way, growth and acceptance can’t really happen without eating ourselves (as a whole, not “Essex cannibalism” type).

Let’s say I wanted to rename the colors, call blue, purple; orange, green; and yellow, burgundy, to break free from the social constructs of color names in America (let’s just pretend we’re the only country for this little scenario). I would probably, well first off if this was a book or maybe even real life and I was the main character, I would die some tragic death before the last page, but first, I would probably be out casted from my family, my society, and sent to live in some loony bin because the colors are the colors. And that’s how it is. And anyone who says different is wrong. Wouldn’t you correct someone if they told you the sky was purple? And I’m not talking pretty sunset or sunrise purple, but on a nice clear day, “the sky is purple”. What would you think? Yes, I’m sure you might accept it, but for a split second you would think, “What?” and maybe question the person. If it happened to be a homeless, disheveled bum, you might chalk it up to the craziness living inside his head (the same stuff that makes him brush his hair with an electric toothbrush). But what if this was an intensely sane person, with verified and certified sanity. Would you question your beliefs? Would you question this person? What if it was a parent? A teacher? The president? What if people were taking up arms over this color debate? Would you stick to everything you’ve ever known as being true? Or would you escape to Canada where they don’t care what you call colors.

All conflict can be broken down into a crazy beginning. Wanting more land, wanting freedom, wanting to prove yourself right. How does that get anywhere? Why can’t you, Mr. Crayon and you Mr. Marker live on your own land, worship your own color choice and let the other do the same? Why isn’t this possible? Greed? Pride? Envy? There are probably some more “sins” that could fit in here. But this brings us back to the Bible! Even my own ability to classify issues stems back to a good and evil set forth by a construction that I don’t even believe in. This is how indoctrinated we are.

I do have hope for America no matter how cynical I may sound. I mean, my dad is in the Air Force has been to war three times and is still around to talk to me about it. Our house proudly displays a flag that is well cared for, and taken down as the sun sets every night. We have a wall in our house that is full of American regalia, including an antique Uncle Sam coin bank. I think if we start by accepting all people, people will start to accept back.

This course has been a fun one for me; for one thing, this is what I plan to teach in high school. PLAN being the key word. American Lit has always been a passion of mine, because it is very complex. I whittled down and glossed over lots of things in the progression of this blog but I definitely think I’ve come away from the class and my blog with new insight into how I see America. Things still bug be about America, but even after living in other countries and different states, it is still home, and I would defend it to the death. I just hope that it is for a worthy cause, and not to procure our beliefs in other people.
I enjoyed the set up of the class, as an almost-teacher, I have thought often of how I want my class to be set up. I had an English class similar to this one when I was a junior in high school, and Mrs. Sullivan’s class is how I’ve always seen my classroom. Circled desks, teacher among students, student facilitation, good juicy discussions—hey this is starting to sound like our class! I’m glad I was a part of such a great group of people and that we were so productive even on cold wintry days and days when no one felt like doing anything. I’m happy to know that this sort of class can still function and I hope I can transform it around a high school curriculum in the future.

Awesome class.

I will miss it terribly.

But this is my last winter quarter ever!

“The cadence of America lies hidden within the literary shell”

Week 10! Emily Dickinson

So, about Emily Dickinson. I have mixed feelings about her. I think everyone reads her wrong, myself included. I know she is considered one of the greats, but I feel like that is because she is so mysterious. Most of her stuff doesn't make much sense to me, and I think that's why people like it. One day we're going to find something she wrote that's going to change our entire thinking of her. Like a big "JUST KIDDING" written at the end of one of her poems. Like when you idolize an actor, only to meet them in real life and find out how much of a jerk they are. Emily is laughing at us all trying to analyze her writings. I bet she had that kind of humor. The sadistic kind.

In reading The Cambridge Introduction to Emily Dickinson by Wendy Martin, I’ve come away with some new ideas about Emily. She was a recluse, but I definitely think this was out of choice, and self-preservation. Martin discusses Dickinson’s ability to have relationships with friends and teachers when she was younger, quoting Dickinson’s letters to her friends. “‘I keep your lock of hair as precious as gold,’ she wrote to Abiah, ‘I often look at it when I go to my little lot of treasures, and wish the owner of that glossy lock were here’” (Martin 5). Martin even calls the relationships Dickinson had “steadfast” (Martin 5). Emily seems to be one of those characters who has a bottomless emotional pit, which may seem like a bad thing, but the only true downside is not being able to connect with anyone on the same level. This could be why she became a recluse. She knew how to have friends, gossip, and be normal. But it wasn’t enough for her. The only true satisfaction she had was in her writing.

Martin mentions Emily receiving a copy of Jane Eyre when it was first published (Martin 10), written by “Currer Bell”, and not Charlotte Brontë because it was unacceptable to be a literary woman in that day and age. Martin states “Critics complained that Jane Eyre’s heroine was too self-reliant, independent, and common to be a moral model for women” (Martin 10). Yet, it seems Emily was such a person already. Instead of breaking out and doing as she wished as Charlotte Brontë did, by publishing anyway, even under a pseudonym, Emily imploded in a way, she locked herself in, and wrote and wrote and wrote and did not become very popular until after her death. I think she could have had more had she had a different personality type.
To sum up, I don’t think she was crazy, even if I can’t understand her. I think that’s the point. She was just as sane as anyone was; she was just ahead of her time. She could have been famous before her death, but chose the easy path. The path, which made her happy, even if she didn’t seem overly happy. I think to say she was crazy is to agree with everyone she was fighting in her own time. She was regarded as odd then, and if you agree she is still now, then what was her point in hiding away? It’s all in perspective. And Emily Dickinson had a lot of perspective.

Anyone agree? Disagree?

Martin, Wendy. The Cambridge Introduction to Emily Dickinson. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007. Print.