Tuesday, January 20th.

Poetry, again.

Honestly, I can't get enough of poetry in this class.  I am particularly excited to give my presentation tomorrow. I love sonnets, I really do. There is something to be appreciated in poets keeping to such strict structure (usually) . 14 lines has to be just enough space to get across a theme. "The World is Too Much With Us" (sonnet I am presenting tomorrow) cheats a little, not always keeping to perfect iambic pentameter. Even so, sonnet writing is no easy feat! Even in my Introduction to Creative Writing Class I took last year we attempted to write sonnets. I can only say attempt because writing a sonnet and writing a good sonnet are not the same thing, believe me. I guess that is one of my goals as a writer, to write a sonnet. Like Dr. Reed said in class; for some writing a sonnet is the beginning for some poets. For others, that is the epitome of poetry writing (Sorry Dr. Reed, I am paraphrasing a bit).

Thursday, January 15

Hamlet

I am so excited to watch Hamlet tomorrow in class. I LOVE the Mel Gibson version of the story. He plays a crazed Hamlet that it honestly a tad disturbing. Throughout high school as well as through personal interest, I've seen several different renditions of the play, but honestly I've got to say that Gibson's is one of my favorite. Working with Hamlet reminds me a lot of high school and freshman year here at Mercyhurst. For example, I found it adorable that a student in a creative writing class last year had such a bizarre dislike for Hamlet that he wrote about it in class.  Honestly, I don't know if it was everything by Shakespeare that set him off or just Hamlet, but it was entertaining all the same. Reading Hamlet again takes me back to high school though. I had some amazing English teachers in high school. Honestly, I don't think I had one that wasn't spectacular. I do remember one of them making us act out plays we would read in her class. Miss Meyer, senior year English class, made us act out Macbeth and Hamlet. I find it hilarious that the same play brought so much joy to her and so much misery to a fellow classmate last year.

Wednesday, January 14

Poetry

I have thoroughly enjoyed tonight's  homework. I love poetry, and there is a great selection for homework. I mean, just looking at "The Red Wheelbarrow" is inspiring. I wish I could be such an efficient writer to say so much in so few words! I love "The Brain Is Wider Than The Sky". I especially love the final stanza which implies a certain amount of divinity in the pursuit of knowledge. Again, so much said in 3 stanzas. Of all that we have read for tonight, I admire Auden's "Stop All the Clocks" the most. I guess that, having experienced grief, it is nice to have that solidarity  (even with a poet I've never met). Misery really does love company. I just can't believe how incredible it is, that the feeling of needing to bring the ongoings of the world to a halt is not something I alone have felt. The picture below is that of someone I love that I lost. I know all too well the devastation that Auden is writing about, and I know how it never really leaves us.
R.I.P Amelia Lynn Shambaugh
.

Tuesday January 13

"A Good Man is Hard to Find"

I don't know what it is about O'Connor's "A Good Man is Hard to Find" that I find unsettling. Honestly, its not the gore, or the lack of deep characters. I guess its how other readers react to the grandmother. I know its weird to come to the defense of a seemingly unlikable character. I guess its because (not to seem pretentious) I have always had a soft spot for the elderly.  I find that stories about old folks who are slightly off to be sweet because I've known a lot of elderly people who are kind of goofy. I've volunteered in old folks homes as well as have had many elderly family members on both sides of my family. I guess this story bugs me because of the lack of sympathy towards the grandmother. I like the idea of putting good karma out there, like if I am respectful of the elderly's idiosyncrasies then the universe will return that to me when I am 80 years old, in a diaper yelling at my television. In all honesty, I find disrespect for the elderly to be a heinous crime committed too often. I can't stand watching people looking for a power trip picking on easy targets. I don't know where this tangent is going....

Monday, January 12

To His Coy Mistress


You've to to Love Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress".  Honestly, there is no better, more eloquently written work that translates to 'lets have sex before you get ugly and die'. Has there ever been a poem with a deeper meaning? Honestly! I find it interesting that there are works from the 1600's that resonate today. The poem isn't about love, it isn't about beauty, its about getting while the getting is good. Even the choice of title makes me laugh. "To His Coy Mistress," not "Love There Isn't Time" or anything as masked as would be expected. He isn't implying love, or even respect. Marvell's work can be summed up quickly and simply. The speaker would love to court this lady, this mistress, but he can't because she is getting uglier with each day. No time to waste! It's easy for the writer to say that he would give her the world if he could and conveniently not be able to. I don't think this poem is supposed to make me laugh as much as it does... hahah.

Friday, January 19


Death of A Salesman

Age is a disease that takes more from individuals than the body and the mind alone. So much more than that is lost to its victims. Poor Willy, as he is introduced to us, is unable to drive safely. Stricken with the struggles that come with age, he is no longer able to work, a blow to his pride. This is such a sad story. I remember my own grandmother and the year she was told she would not be permitted to drive anymore. I remember soon before then, she drove me to Chuck-E-Cheese. Even as a young child I knew the driving was nothing like my parents, the way she turned and pressed on the breaks. Young as I was, it made me sad to see my grandma being stripped of her liberties as Willy is in "Death of a Salesman". Like Willy, my grandmother began to see herself as a burden to be dealt with in haste and annoyance, or at least as it pertained to her means of transportation. Seeing Willy unravel is touching and devastating all at once. It inspires empathy and pity. R. I. P. Willy.

Bartleby...

Thursday, January 8th


Day 4:


Ah, "Bartleby, The Scrivener". Honestly, I can't stand the story. I don't know what it is about it that irks me. I guess Bartleby is such a flat character that I can't find a way to connect to him. Granted, a real-life Bartleby may be more worthy of pity, but alas he is not real. I don't know what Melville's reason was for making Bartleby so detestable. Perhaps it is the fact that a real person in the situation would have reason for such behavior. In the end, I don't feel as if I'm left with any moral lesson, just robbed of my time. Even in multiple readings, I find nothing I like for the story. Obviously, there must be something of substance to be appreciates, why else would multiple professors each year have it as an assigned reading? After boredom of the story got to me, I sort of daydreamed of it, as if Bartleby were a character in a movie. I suppose he would be comic relief. Even so, he is more annoying than entertaining. Maybe being an English major my annoyance stems from a main character not speaking poignant words. Having no more to say on the subject, I end this post.

Wednesday, January 7th


I love the short story "The Lady with the Dog". I don't know if its because I'm Russian, like Chekhov, or because the story has this circular way of flow. Don't get me wrong, I love my Jane Austen books where boy meets girl, then drama, then marriage (not to simplify Austen, more for comedic effect). With Chekhov, the story starts in a place of disdain. The male lead has no appreciation for women or their endless prattle. To him, they hold no worth. Even as this phase passes in the story, because the man does eventually learn to love women, or a specific woman, he does not find satisfaction. Much like in the film The Duchess, where it looks like the marriage is over between spouses, it remains. Both the male and female lead stay with their respective spouses, unlike how I would assume Austen to tell it. She would likely opt to have everyone happy at the conclusion. Chekhov's characters aren't so lucky.

Day 2

Tuesday, January 6th


Last year I read "Cathedral" in two different classes. I also read "Araby" and "A & P" in my Happiness IDST class. Out of all of these, I'd say that possibly "A & P" was the most intriguing to me. Like mentioned in the previous post, my previous experience with the works were rather shallow. I don't know why but "A & P" reminded me of the movie "Stand by Me". To me, each had a way of sending the message that childhood was on its way out. Granted, both have their differences, but to me the main theme drawn from "A & P" was that childhood. Mr. Cashier wanted to be the hero, the knight in shining armor that would save girls from the wicked boss. Much to his disappointment, the guy leaves the store after abruptly and heroically quitting, only to find his damsels in distress not waiting for him to ride off into the sunset. Although it may seem crass, that is what I interpret the main idea of the story to be; the narrator's childish disappointment. His heroic act was his "train dodge". He was risking all for ego, much like in "Stand By Me".

Day 1

Monday January 5th.


Day 1 of Intro. to the English Major and already lots to do. Lots of the poetry assigned so far I've read for other classes including Happiness IDST, American Lit., and Intro. to Creative Writing. Tonight's assigned works include "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud";"We Real Cool";"I Celebrate Myself, and Sing Myself"; "Exchanging Hats";"My Papa's Waltz";"Because I Could Not Stop for Death" and "The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner". I've read all of the above listed, save for "The Death of Ball Turret Gunner". When I think about it, I'm kind of glad that I haven't read it before. I look at how I analyzed the poem today in comparison to how I analyzed the other poems from last year, and I realize that how I approach the works has changes. Where I used to judge the poem after one reading with haste, I now read it through at least three, four times. I recall reading "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" in Dr. Riley-Brown's American Literature class last year. In reading it, I gave it a thorough once over and then was done with it. There was little to analyze, in my opinion at the time. I recall my mind picturing a lazy field of daffodils, and then being done with the poem. In reading it this year, my analysis is much deeper. Now, I attempt to draw meaning, where I used to simply draw an image or feeling.