Alrighty then, since I wrote a novella for the last bit, I feel perfectly justified in skimping on the word count here...unless I start ranting, in which case you, dear reader, will receive much more than you want and will likely close this window to escape the rubbish.


"A Native Hill" by Wendell Berry (edited/introduced by Norman Wirzba)
Okay, I think I'm starting to sense a trend here along the lines of mucho description and bits of everyday life. Looks likes, once again, we have major imagery and symbolism...though this one makes more of a reflective tie between present, history, and environmentalism. Honestly, while I'd probably love this if I were a green freak or history buff, it strikes me as loads of description (more than I care to see at once) interspersed with preachy rambling. It almost has that "message within personal experience" vibe "Paris to the Moon" has at the beginning...but then it just keeps going on and on and on. For that sort of length, I think you need an audience with a super high interest level, or a captive audience (like college students). That, or just write it in a never ending blog post; they're perfect for protracted reflection sessions. :)


"Narrative Life" by Gian Pagnucci
Well, if I weren't fearing and dreading the Twitterive assignment before, I sure am now. The stories of our lives? I'll admit, some of the stuff I hear is pretty story-worthy, but it always seems to be someone else's life. Now, I think that may be a byproduct of the typical "grass looks greener on the other side" syndrome, but looking at my own life...

It takes me back to that first(?) day of class when the prof asked us to write down a "secret," preferably something embarrassing so that the people might laugh and be entertained. I couldn't think of anything I would put under "secret." Yes, I have spit takes and clumsiness and more regrets/shameful moments than I'd like, but there's really nothing I wouldn't tell if asked, nothing "secret." I guess life, written as is, at least, seems too mundane.

Pagnucci talks about preserving your past...I've kind of already lost most of it. ^^;; There are things I'll remember if something else sparks them, but it's not like an archive I can just search and open at will. And in general, I don't really mind the memories fading.

Don't get me wrong. I love stories. I doubt I'd be a Writing major if I didn't. But while I'll put bits of myself in my stories, I'm not sure how I feel about writing "my stories" if that makes any sense.

じゃまた

As I begin commenting on these class readings, I'm struck with a thought: within this blog, open to the public, I feel the need to filter for my audience. My professor will probably say that's a good thing, that keeping one's audience in mind while writing is essential, but honestly, it kind of ticks me off. What if I really hate a piece? What if my response to a reading is that, literary masterpiece or not, it bored me to tears and/or drove me to drink?

I suppose I can always just label the blog "private" at semester's end before handing out this website link to potential employers. :)

Now that that's out of the way, on to the readings! Might as well start with "The Collected Works of Billy the Kid" by Michael Ondaatje. Being half brain dead, I was glad to have the notes in the margins spell out thoughts of imagery and symbolism for me, but those notes also reminded me of something. I want to say it was in Writer's Mind with Maxson(?), but one of our readings also had scrawls and underlines throughout the file. The question was posed: does it affect how you interpret the text? Well, duh. Whether you mean to think the same thoughts as the original scribbler, the fact that an extra line or word is there draws your eye and forces your brain to think about it differently. Why did someone label this section with particular emphasis? Was he right? Was it the teacher just trying to throw us off the scent? So many questions...

Other than that, I didn't care much for the piece. A story told in straight description with no dialogue can get pretty tiresome pretty fast, and it didn't help that the focus on imagery and symbolism bogged down the already slow-paced plot(?) for me.

"Paris to the Moon" by Adam Gopnik had Billy's issue of dallying about, describing and then describing some more, meandering through a plot(?). However, I had a little more connection here because bits and pieces reminded of both other classes and my Semester Abroad experience. The ideas of media permeating everything, affecting how we think and use technology, and yet seeing technology adapted to fit different cultures' needs, struck home. In America, with all our plugs and outlets and cables, escaping the media seems a dream of the past. As for a "Regulon" to hold it in check, keep it from devouring us all...I suppose we haven't met a universal for this pest as of yet because the demand remains, so the supply continues. Unless, of course, you want the government to come in and reign everything in. But that's a whole other bucket of radioactive worms I won't go into.

As for my Semester Abroad comparisons, it was the little things that made me smile. Adventures with adapters and converters, idiotic machines that refuse to run the way you know they should. And my favorite line: "But then all cultural prejudices seem like practical facts to the prejudiced" (52). It's true, and funny...especially when the old people sitting at the cafe table ask if you have a jacket and then laugh at the silly American who'll freeze to death in (what would be) warm New Jersey weather. Yeah, it works with the old folk. :)

I think this piece worked, explaining the author's insights and opinions, without sounding overbearing or over-preachy because Gopnik presented it as experience, as life. That personal connection, the human factor, kept me from tuning him out...even if it was France. ;)

And now I'm going to save this before this evil program gives me another scare and makes me think (momentarily) that it has deleted all my hard work. ¡Hasta luego!