And in the End...

"Your power to write rests gravely on your commitment to read." -Lovanda A. Brown 

Lovanda Brown

When I first began writing this Common Place blog, I knew I had much to say concerning literature and the elements pertinent to it, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to effectively convey them all. Now at the end, I’ve realized how far I’ve come and how lucky I’ve been to be able to express my views in a world that filters out “unscholarly sources” or “expert critiques.” Not only has this helped me mature as a critical reader, I am now a more well-rounded writer as I have spent the past 10 weeks or so analyzing the works of those who have paved the way--studying the patterns of literary geniuses.

     In this final post, I believe it is important to share what I have learned throughout this experience. I’ve learned that every story carries symbolism. This assertion seems far-fetched, but let me explain. These symbols are often overlooked. Each story represents either a culture, a lifestyle, an idea or an active imagination. Nonetheless, whatever symbol each story carries, it ultimately belongs to two people—the writer who took great pleasure in sharing his/her story, and the reader who is given the freedom of unrestrained interpretation. 

Once you can understand that, it changes literature in a way that makes it become a whole new love for those who have already adored the craft. That is something, I will take with me for the rest of my journey as a writer, and this is an experience I’d gladly and most certainty would do. all. over. again.

Read...it makes the good great.

All the best, 

Lovanda

Live NOW

“I made a big mistake.”

“About Exeter?”

Yes, I made a big mistake. You should be with us for that time. I should never let you go there.”

“So why did you?” I said.

“Because I didn’t know I was going to die.” –Chang Rae Lee’s, Coming Home Again

It is possibly one of the greater questions of the human condition—why we fail to value time or appreciate time spent until there is none left. This idea stood out to me as I finished reading Chang-Rae Lee’s Coming Home Again. While we are alive, time seems infinite and we can easily feel invincible. Family members and friends are often blurred together in a midst of repetitive days and daily functions, feelings are silenced by the technology we have worked so hard to establish, and complications are never truly worked out. In fact, they are avoided, ignored, brushed or simply shipped away—which was the case we saw in the story.

As the narrator reflects on his mother, her overall presence and the relationship they had despite her decision to send him to boarding school, regret settles in. I have yet to experience death, which is impossibly evident even now as I write, but I could imagine that deeper than the anguish it is to die when you’re not ready is to die with regrets. To recount the moments you sold due to complications, and to remember the times when fighting to create these moments were never seized. By the story’s end, we find the narrator’s mother regretful of her decision to send her son to boarding school—which ultimately strained their relationship. It makes me wonder, if in fact, she was not dying would the regret present itself?

The cycle of life 

She said that if she had known she was going to die, she wouldn’t have sent him there. But that entire concept makes me question. We all know that someday we are going to die. Our flesh will cease to function and we will deteriorate with the passing of time. If we have this idea already embedded in the back of our minds, why is it so hard for us to embrace each moment today as if we were dying tomorrow? These thoughts of infinity and invincibility die when we do, so those thoughts in themselves are self-damaging. They rob us of moments we can’t get back because we believe time will present these opportunities once more. They rob us of productive tomorrows because we are living reckless todays. Coming Home Again helped me to consider the cycle that is life, and the error that is the human condition.

It's Easier to Run than Drown in it

“I want to ask her if she loves her boss but I ask instead, How do you like the States?”

    In Junot Diaz, Edison, New Jersey we are confronted with feelings of lost love and an underlying yet unfamiliar hope that creeps with it. As the narrator discusses the daily demands divided between him and his road partner, Wayne, he discusses his ex-girlfriend who he still presently refers to as  “the girlfriend.” You can tell that the decision for the two to separate stemmed from disappointment and one being braver than the other. Nonetheless, after meeting Mr. Pruitt’s maid, I realized this is a story both the narrator and the Dominican maid share. I believe the narrator realized this just the same when he considered asking the question written above.

    First, I considered the fact that neither one of the two referred to these people by name. The maid never once referred to Mr. Pruitt as such, she only calls him the “pendejo” or “her boss.” As mentioned above, the narrator seems to call his ex-girlfriend, “the girlfriend.” There is much to say here. It seems as if uttering there name would take too much energy, or it would pain a part of them that they are trying to get past. They both seem to share this. There is an underlying disappointment. Time has gone by, so his disappointment is thinly veiled by distraction but still very evident. The maid’s disappointment with what affair I speculate she and Mr. Pruitt had is also thinly veiled—but by anger. Whatever happened between the two just recently happened and she wants run from it just as the narrator runs from how he feels about his ex-girlfriend.

I also considered the clothes the maid leaves behind versus the pictures of the ex-girlfriend that the narrator neglects to tell his mother to dispose of. They both symbolize hope. The maid leaving her clothes could be a sign that she wanted nothing to do with him, not even own the clothes he may have bought for her. But, to me, it seems she left them as a hopeful gesture just as the pictures left of the narrator’s ex-girlfriend are still around his mother’s home. There is no finality in leaving them behind. In fact, there is a chance that she may return to Mr. Pruitt and the narrator’s girlfriend may come back to restore order once more, so why get rid of them? There is a shared pain and culture between the narrator and the maid. It seems that this unspoken understanding of one another is what helped him to be able to help her. It's easier for them both to run from these feelings, than sit around and drown in circumstances they have no control over. 

Raising a Kite

“Raising a child is like building a kite. You must bend the twigs enough, but not too much, for you might break them. You must find paper that is delicate and light enough to wave on the breath of the wind, yet must withstand the ravages of a storm. You must tie the strings gently but firmly so that it may not fall apart. You must let the string go eventually so that the kite will stretch its ambition. It is such delicate work, Lord, being a mother."

Helena Viramonte’s Cariboo Café is a complex story that I found hard to grasp at first. While the story’s end did it’s best to connect all characters outlined within the story, the way each story was told in each separate section was challenging to understand, to say the least. I could relate with the relationship between Sonya and Macky. I too am protective of my younger brother, regardless of the circumstances that come. But even so, I both thoroughly enjoyed and found poetry in the excerpt provided above.

I, myself, have yet to experience motherhood, but based on what I’ve learned thus far (through others, of course) I believe the concept is eloquently explained in this quote. If raising a child is like building a kite, much effort and careful considerations even calculations must be applied just to properly construct/develop a device that symbolizes both freedom and innocence. The twigs in this case are simply rules. You must bend them to establish your own parenting and your unique relationship with your child, but you must be careful not to break them, for in so doing, the child would have no structure. Structure is needed for the kite to fly. Structure is needed for a child to soar as an adult.

 Then, you must find paper, or a balance between being both delicate and firm—delicate enough so your child feels free enough to enjoy the life you’ve built for him/her, but stern enough so the storms or life’s unprecedented challenges won’t break the child. How do you create that balance? By tying the strings gently but firmly or by handling your child both carefully and firmly at the same time, you’re essentially binding up any chances of complete failure. The love won’t allow him to fall apart when strong winds are against him, and the firmness will allow him/her to overcome.

And then eventually, when developing the kite/child is all said and done, you must let go and allow your child to pursue his/her own goals, all the while being confident that the structure you laid out and the love and stern teachings you’ve taught throughout the years was just enough for your child to make it.

Motherhood and the responsibility that treads along with the title is very delicate work.

And yet… where would we be without them? 

Seventeen Syllables--Limited Expression

“The truth was that Rosie was lazy; English lay ready on the tongue but Japanese had to be searched and examined...”

I found it relatively simple to just equate Seventeen Syllables with the life of Rosie’s mother. In fact, I think it must be established that the haiku is a poem with many limits, but it is often what you do with only a few choice words that makes a difference. Tome Hayashi, or Rosie’s mother, we find had so much locked away. By the story’s demise, the true unlimited story of Ms. Hayashi is revealed and her love for the haiku poem can be directly correlated with her life. Nonetheless, the aforementioned quote explains just why Rosie and her mother had trouble communicating before. The quote, I believe sums up the true heart of the story.

Rosie, having been raised in America it seems, had grown accustomed to the American way of communication. Here, we are encouraged to talk about our emotions, we are motivated to share our stories, and often times our behaviors prompt others to ask about information that other cultures might deem private. The emotions in America “lay ready on the tongue.” If we’re compelled enough to tell another how we feel at a moment’s notice (i.e. therapist, counselor, friend etc..) this makes us less open to examination. In fact, it means any mystery is placed directly on the table.

“But Japanese [culture] had to be searched and examined.” In a haiku, the limitations of seventeen syllables often leave much room for interpretation. A haiku is often searched and examined, what is this poem really trying to say? I found myself trying to figure out Rosie’s mother, while Rosie’s feelings and overall characteristics were displayed openly. There is a reason for this. It is to express the juxtaposition explained earlier. Rosie is American, and her English/way of life speaks for itself. Mrs. Hayashi’s experiences in Japan and her marriage to Rosie’s father had to examined and searched. By the story’s end, you find the two finds common ground when Mrs Hayashi decides to open up, and Rosie finally putting her lazy ears behind her, finally decides to listen. 

Beauty After Death

"But they also knew that everything would be different from then on, that their houses would have wider doors, higher ceilings, and stronger floors so that Esteban's memory could go everywhere..."

In Gabriel García Márquez's The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World, we are introduced to a small community who has just discovered an unusually tall, and large man washed up at shore. Upon first glance, the community is able to recognize that the man was indeed a stranger, but what they unmasked thereafter is what made the story truly unique. At first his size is what was intriguing considering that his height elevated above ceilings and his overall size outweighed a common man even being compared to that of a horse. But what captured the attention of the village's women was the handsome face he carried. 

As the story continued to describe how well he was treated because of how handsome he was, it made me consider life. When the man was alive, he was impossibly tall and large. The story notes that he likely often criticized for it despite everything else he may have possessed. As the women of the village cleaned him up and saw him as beautiful, it made me consider how often this gesture is repeated today. When a person is alive, all of his/her faults and imperfections are not only sought by others, but they are scrutinized. We tend to judge just based on size, shape, and all of the superficial aspects of a person. But if you notice, once a person dies, all of that fades away. Surviving individuals then take the time out to highlight all of the good attributes of the deceased and find the best words to say about those who have passed. 

It's unfortunate that it takes death for us to see the beauty in a person. Some people, if you consider them closely, have the ability to make a very real difference in society just being who they are. You noticed that Estaban's very existence changed the outlook of the entire community and even shaped it differently from what it used to be. Often times, we all encompass this power. The problem is, we are backwards. We scrape to find the good in a person, whether it be stranger or friend, once he/she is dead, but when we are alive--judgement ensues and we become dismantling boulders to one another. It's unfortunate, but Marquez's story reveals this truth both subtly and beautifully.

Tim Parrish Visits

  I read Red Stick Men with a certain voice—my voice. Yes, the author’s tone was clearly evident throughout each short story, and yes the style was just as established. Still, I read the story with my voice. I heard the words playback with a familiar sound, and for some odd reason, it never once varied as I read. I understood that the book was based on Southern reality and life within the late 60s-early 70s, I understood the accents placed subtly throughout each story, I even understood what the author was going for—what he was trying to convey. But still, I read it with the voice I’ve grown accustomed to hearing over the past 23 years.

  It wasn’t until Tim Parrish, the author of Red Stick Men, came to read using the voice I’d overlooked that I realized I was reading his stories all wrong. He began with a satirical introduction, very humorous yet humble about the stories he has created. My mind automatically recounted the photo I had seen of him, the one plastered behind a display of his books on an image-projected screen. Wow, he’s a tall dude, I thought as I watched him adjust the microphone to accommodate his height. As he spoke with his Southern accent I had failed to mimic whenreading, I realized just how talented he is. Sure, evidence of this can be found in his book, but hearing it aloud as it was intended to be received made a world of difference.

  Parrish offered different versions to stories he’s personally experienced, scenes straight from his memoir and re-read his story Bonnie Ledet—a story I read, but didn’t quite hear until Parrish recited it aloud. After listening to his responses during the Q & A portion of his visit, I became more hopeful in my craft. I’ve learned that writing a book can literally take years, so I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I’ve learned that personal experiences are conveyed best in literature, and that as a serious writer it’s important to not take oneself so seriously. If writing is what you love to do, never let it become work. Treat it as the friend it has always been. In any friendship, work and life circumstances don’t always allow friends to interact as often as they would like, but once the moment is there, it’s important to get to work! Catch up! Get it all out!

It was a pleasure to experience this visit. 

Ok so maybe not....

**So, after listening to some discussions, I found that maybe Julian isn't all I thought he was. I think I observed him in contrast to his mother on a very superficial level instead of really looking deeply. Yes, I hold opposing views from my parents and I'm always pushing myself, but there is a very REAL difference between Julian and I. Julian just might be racist, and of course, I am not. I identified with him  and his need to prove himself, but not the subject matter he is trying to prove himself in. 

There are also other elements of the story I overlooked until just now, but I realize that this was the brunt of what I felt was worth duscussing.**

I AM JULIAN

    "The further irony of all this was that in spite of her, he had turned out so well. In spite of going to only a third-rate college, he had, on his own initiative, come out with a first-rate education; in spite of growing up dominated by a small mind, he had ended up with a large one; in spite of all her foolish views, he was free of prejudice and unafraid to face facts. Most miraculous of all, instead of being blinded by love for her as she was for him, he had cut himself emotionally free of her and could see her with complete objectivity. He was not dominated by his mother."

**Can I just say, I love this story and furthermore, I think Julian is a great person despite his mother and the death he may have/have not caused. Now, with that having been said, I'm moving on to my analysis. 

In Flannery O' Connor's Everything that Rises Must Converge, we meet an aspiring writer who just graduated from College. His name was Julian. Opposite of who he was, was his prejudice mother. Now to be fair, this was a time when integration of Caucasian Americans and African Americans was first established. It seems because Julian's mother grew so accustomed to the way things were, she let fear of the unknown progress into full-blown ignorance. What I found refreshing was that Julian remained his own person despite his upbringing. When a child, or a person, acts recklessly in public or conversely very well-mannered in public--that individual's upbringing/parents are automatically either blamed or praised. 

Julian was determined to be his own person despite all of the disadvantages his mother afforded him. He, himself, was not racist and his mind was not only opened to change--it welcomed it. The irony is that as much as he didn't hate his mother, he still wanted to be the one to teach her a lesson on the way things are now. The quote above sums up the dynamic between Julian and his mother in two simple sentences. The fact that he was not dominated by her views, it made him free to be whoever he wanted to be. 

In the story, his mother says "if you know who you are, you can go anywhere." This is very true. Julian knew who he was and it made him free to talk to anyone, go anywhere and be the best person he wanted to be. He reminds me of myself. I, myself have opposing beliefs from my parents, but I'm still who I am. Not one person may understand that, but not one person can change that. Despite any disadvantages I've been afforded, I'm still going to get to where I am going. I'm a writer just the same. "Selling type-writers" won't cut it, just like Julian knew within himself. Julian wanted to write, Julian would fall back into his own world and invite no one to join him, Julian had cut himself emotionally from the perceptions that would fail him--I am Julian. 

Omitting all of the racial prejudices, Flannery O' Connor inadvertently wrote a story about me. It was nice to see it written down. 

The Voorman Problem

"I created your memories when I created you."

In the oscar-nominated short film The Voorman Problem, I found myself having to detach myself from my own personal morals and Christian beliefs to stumble upon an objective analysis and interpretation of this film. Within this post, I will discuss both perspectives. I will analyze the overall concept of the film from an impartial standpoint and then compare these observations to the religious themes/ideas they stem from. 

In the Voorman Problem we find a psychologist evaluating a prisoner who maintains the he is a god. He also asserts that he created the universe 9 days prior to that evaluation and his only job now has been to maintain it. He finds amusement in humans and war because he is a self-proclaimed "bored god." When challenged that evidence proves that the world existed long before he claims to have created it, he assures Dr. Williams that he created the evidence. He also asserts that the memories caried of times before are memories he created when he established the universe and each being within it. Now, the idea is clever. It can very well make one think, and I see how this would be very persuasive. If the memories I carry are apart of a grand design created, let's say for this hypothetical instance, one day ago, this means all I believe and even the individuals of this world are merely puppets of an illusion-a figment of a grand imagination.

The movie plot and overall idea bases it's ideas on existing religion, however. In Christian doctrine, the world was built by God in 7 days (well, rested on the 7th); Voorman maintains he created the world 9 days prior. 9 flipped upside down, of course is the number 6. I believe this plays on the idea that God created man (and the knowledge he holds) on the sixth day of creation. Also, all evidence of how the world came to be, for us Christians and similar religions, come from the Bible. A book that man wrote, yes, by the knowledge given to them from God. All knowledge of this, comes from evidence provided by God. If knowledge is obtained from God, memories are just the same. By the end of the movie, I found that without existing religious precepts, the ideas used to make this film clever to me and persuasive to some would fail to be conceived to begin with. 

Complicity

"When she handed me my glass, I saw a thin bruise on her wrist."- Complicity, Tom Parrish

In Tom Parrish's contemporary story, Complicity, we find racial tension and abused authority come to life. In the story, it seems that Mr. Parks, a police officer was always on the lookout for anyone he could hunt down, anyone he could reprimand. Jeb and Ricky frequently disputed both physically and verbally. Despite the fact that Rick, Parks's son, would provoke Jeb, Parks would still regularly threaten Jeb for doing so. I could tell then that he had a serious anger issue that was ready to be released on any and everyone.  

As the story continues, we find Mrs. Parks was tied up by who they said to be a black man, and was "roughed up." I knew something was up just based on who Mr Parks is. If he terrorizes even his neighbors, nonetheless black civilians, who on earth would try to avenge him? After Jeb tells Bob that he heard arguing and "sounds" that included the voice of Mr. Parks during the night of the break-in, my suspicions sky-rocketed. Once I saw Mr. Parks kept inquiring about what Jeb seen or heard, I knew that he was somehow involved. 

The quote provided completely reaffirmed my suspicions and shed light on the abusive husband that Mr. Parks is. With all the growing tension that was in the south at that time, it was ironic that someone who was supposed to be enforcing the law was part of a hidden problem. Domestic violence roared on by his hands in his own household, but he diligently roamed the streets to hunt down that particular violence. To cover his own tracks, he even went as far as to camp out with a shotgun right on his lawn. He'd rather do the unnecessary to avoid facing himself. It's remarkable how ugly the truth can be when your own mirror reveals it. 

Apathetic Time

"There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,/And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;/And frogs in the pools singing at night,/And wild plum trees in tremulous white;/Robins will wear their feathery fire,/Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;/And not one will know of the war, not one/Will care at last when it is done./Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,/If mankind perished utterly;/And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn/Would scarcely know that we were gone." Sara Teasdale's There Will Come Soft Rains as featured in Ray Bradbury's August 2026

 

This poem eloquently describes a future that not many of us take the time to consider. Still, on a smaller scale we see evidence of time's apathy everyday. There Will Come Soft Rains forces me to consider the idea that time ages and moves on despite death, despite destruction, and despite loss. Notice when a celebrity or even a loved one dies, the loss is typically discussed and mourned for some time after. Legacies are remembered and achievements are commemorated, but slowly but surely, time plays it's part to move us forward. Life continues despite that loss. 

August 2026 allows me to consider the idea that technology just may live on without us. When time and destruction annihilates us, all that is left will continue to function. As described, the birds will continue to fly, trees will be left to bloom and all the advances we have killed ourselves to invent will turn around and proceed in this life without us. As the seasons change, not one of them, not even beautiful spring will remember us. They'll change until the world ceases altogether (or until God himself finishes it all). Not one other living creature will care if mankind perished. They will continue just the same. As shown in the story, domesticated animals will rot, but those that can survive ultimately will. 

The story merely illustrated the poem in a way that was more evident. If one is forgotten by mankind after the apathetic hands of time heals enough to destroy grief, why wouldn't the existing life that surround us move on just the same? A thought-provoking concept well conveyed. 

The Blurred Distinction

"I believe people need beliefs. If I didn't have my belief, I really don't know what would happen." Ursula Le Guin, SQ

Just before I could continue reading, I was stopped by this quote. The quote in itself inspired me to keep reading; it let me know that this story would be one that I would find both intriguing and thought provoking. SQ invites its audience to question the line of sanity versus insanity. Before I begin, let us first consider that line. Societal norms and beliefs not only form normalcy and define it, but it also helps us to distinguish what "sanity" generally looks like. Today, what is sane has loosened and become a matter of artistic perception. We no longer look at erratic behavior and deem it "insane". Instead, we observe and consider what the behavior exhibited means and what the person projecting it is aiming to express. Nonetheless, it is our beliefs that helps us to distinguish and define sanity or normalcy.

In the story, you'll find that the quote provided stands as a recurrent theme or underlining premise throughout the story's entirety. What strikes me is not the invention of sanity testing nor is it Mary Ann's overwhelmingly dillusioned admiration for Dr. Speakie. It's the idea that without a belief of some kind in place within our society, there would essentially be no way to determine what is normal and what isn't. Insanity and sanity would not exist. Insanity versus genius is one debate that answer lies within each beholder. You'll find Mary Ann's belief, that was asserted and stood firm from the beginning, helped her to maintain the idea that Dr. Speakie was a genius in all that he strived to do. While his very sanity was regularly questioned, it did not change the belief of Mary Ann Smith. Her perception allowed her to see something else. Yet, we find there is no test that can determine what is abnormal. Even the very test conceived and birthed by Dr. Speakie was the very same test that proved him to be even more insane than his wife. 

I, personally, know that without my beliefs, the world around me would cease to exist as I know it. I can't even imagine life differently. To me, an alternative belief, while it exists, doesn't convey accuracy. Mary Ann felt the same way. I truly appreciated this quote. It's one I have previously spoken, and one I find to frightening to apply to my personal reasoning. 

The Most Unrecognized Weapon

"God makes some men poets. Some, He makes kings, some beggars. Me-- He made a hunter.”- Richard Connell, The Most Dangerous Game

In Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game, we are first introduced to a group of passengers aboard a yacht that is Rio de Janeiro bound. A mysterious and perilous island is recognized by a passenger named Whitney, in which case she reveals to protagonist Rainsford. Later on, Rainsford meets with the island first hand as he accidently falls into the sea, is left by the yacht and is then forced to swim towards the island. There, he encounters a general with an obsessive love for the hunt named Zaroff and his deaf and blind accomplice, Ivan. The General, who is well aware of Rainsford hunting reputation, caters to Rainsford-- that is until Rainsford discovers the truth. The General makes a game out of hunting down people, a game he has grown bored with since he decides that people no longer pose a challenge. Rainsford who does not condone this wants to leave the island, but not only does The General reject this, he also makes Rainsford’s stay a game—if he can survive 3 days as prey, he will be set free. In the end, we find that The General is eaten by his own dogs or in fact beaten by his own game, while Rainsford sleeps comfortably.

In the quote provided, The General provides some logic into his love for the hunt by proclaiming this insightful message. To an extent, I believe he is right. God assigns gifts to everyone. Those with a natural talent and passion to write are deemed writers, some people are born into royalty. Because he was skilled at what he did, The General believed his gift was to hunt. While I hardly believe that he was given the gift to kill instinctively, I do believe this idea exposes something deeper.

A gift, if used effectively and if mastered, has the power to change lives and influence a society. Conversely, a gift that is abused or mastered with ill-intentions has the power to do just the same—but the results are likely to have a negative impact. The General’s gift was misused. The quote and the General’s overall character also reminded me that what one defines one’s self to be irrefutably shapes his/her life. If I were to tell myself every day “I’m a writer”, that would (and has) shape the direction of my life. Believed and practiced affirmations can determine what and who someone becomes. In broader yet simpler terms, a gift is a talent that becomes a weapon once recognized, yet it stands unrecognized for many. 

A Death at Owl Creek Bridge

“Death is a dignitary who when he comes announced is to be received with formal manifestations of respect, even by those most familiar with him. In the code of military etiquette silence and fixity are forms of deference.” Ambrose Bierce, An Occurrence on Owl Creek Bridge, Part 1

In Bierce’s short story, we are introduced to a man impending death who is later revealed to be Peyton Farquhar. Farquhar, who diligently sought to help the southern cause by attempting to join the Confederate Army, was being prepared to be hung at Owl Creek Bridge. What led to this was an unexpected visit from an inconspicuous Northern scout. Believing that the soldier who stopped at his home for a drink of water was a Confederate soldier, he asked him questions on how to support the cause and come against the efforts of the Northerners. The soldier explains to him that anyone conspiring against the Northerners would be hung.

 The disguised Northern soldier accepts the water and rides away. Now in Farquhar’s last moments, he considers just how he can escape from this death sentence. Once he is hung, he imagines himself falling into the creek, escaping strangulation. He releases his bounded hands and makes it past fire attempts to annihilate him. Finally, it seems he escapes and finds his way home to meet his beautiful wife when he is suddenly struck with a bright light. Farquhar was dead all along, and his lifeless body was left hung at the edge of Owl Creek Bridge.

The quote provided was particularly striking. It personified death in such a way, that it made you consider it with respect. While I’ll never view death in this way personally, I can definitely understand what Bierce is trying to convey. The quote explains that death is a dignitary, a figure or concept of prestige. It seems that because death is so certain, when it comes ‘announced’ or rather when approaching death is known, because it physically cannot be fought, it should be respected as a dignitary. Those familiar with it, like soldiers, understand this concept and treat it as such. Once death succeeds at its plot to steal, the body becomes a still and lifeless carcass. Military etiquette teaches soldiers to emulate death’s trace as it approaches.

While I don’t believe that death should be respected, I appreciate the concept drawn and the quote provided by Bierce for the poetry it is.  The quote was definitely used to foreshadow what would be the fate of Peyton Farquhar. 

God of Love

“You can’t control who you love. You can’t control who loves you. You can’t control how it happens or when it happens or why it happens. You can’t control any of that stuff.” –God of Love, 2011

The 2011 Academy Award nominated short film, God of Love is centered behind a hopeless romantic man named Ray, who is love sick with a woman named Kelly who just so happens to love his fellow band mate and best friend, Fozzie. In the beginning, we watch Ray pray to an unspecified god for the first time to help Kelly view him as desirable. After a year of consistently praying for the same thing, the answer comes to the dart-wizard in the form of a love arrow. Reminiscent of a modern day cupid, Ray plots to make Kelly fall in love with him by stabbing her with an arrow designed to make the love interest carry strong feelings leaving them more susceptible to fall in love with the desiring person. After failing to make Kelly fall in with him, Ray resolves to pair up Kelly and Fozzie. By the story’s end, he restates the opening quote, which is provided above, and concludes that he is the god of love.

Other than the movie being so detailed, comedic, and insightful at just 19 minutes long, the quote above was what intrigued me most about the movie. It was a concept established from the beginning and tied the story together in the end. It’s reality. You can’t control who you love, and just what makes you love you've fallen for. All we feel we are in control of daily is completely irrelevant when considering the concept of love. More often, love makes us selfless. You see by the story’s end, Ray becomes completely selfless when he induces the relationship between Fozzie and Kelly.

Though his attempts were comical, it doesn't negate the fact that love stories are all based on this premise: the inability to control who you love. Often times, the conflict revolves around this-- The world not understanding what one feels and the two parties involved being the only two who understand. God of Love is a truly thoughtful short story. It vividly depicts this idea in black and white. You don’t need color to define what love is. As boundless as the feeling can be, the truth is, love just is what it is. 

The Joy That Kills

“When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease—of the joy that kills. “ The Story of an Hour, Kate Chopin

 In Chopin’s short story, the audience is introduced to young and heart-disease ridden, Mrs. Mallard. Her husband was said to have died in a terrible train accident and breaking the news to her became the unfortunate responsibility of her sister, Josephine and her late husband’s friend, Richards. The story reveals that Mrs. Mallard didn’t react as others who hear of grief. She wasn’t so shocked that she couldn’t grieve; in fact, Mrs. Mallard was filled with woe and devastation immediately upon hearing the news. After completely isolating herself to grieve in privacy, Mrs. Mallard continues to sob inconsolably when she senses an unfamiliar feeling approaching. After trying to suppress it, she realizes that she couldn’t fight it.

The story reads that “her bosom rose and fell tumultuously” which foreshadowed the heart attack in process. After stumbling upon the realization that the years ahead would bring freedom, Mrs. Mallard finds joy beyond grief. She is sure that pain will find her once her eyes rests upon the cold corpse of her late husband, but she resolves that the pain would only be temporary. The freedom was sure to last for years to come. In all irony, a very-alive Mr. Mallard returns home unaware that an accident had even taken place, but by that time his wife’s heart failed after experiencing true happiness.

Now, we see that while sobbing, Mrs. Mallard “sees the light.” At first, it seemed as if Mrs. Mallard died from sheer happiness, but it seems to me that death was approaching far before. It was “the light” that helped her to see what life would have been like long after she stopped grieving. It can very well be interpreted that Mrs. Mallard had an epiphany or revelation that led to her death; that somewhere in the midst of her tears, she found tears of joy. BUT her “bosom rose and fell tumultuously” long before such revelations were realized. This means that the approaching death helped her to see the beauty of her life. She knew she would mourn yes, but she knew she’d live past that. After all, she didn’t love him all the time. She was finally free and she couldn’t shake the joy that came with this revelation. In fact, the joy was strong enough to cut the ties she had to this life altogether. If the grief couldn’t kill her, the sheer joy had to. The story was truly ironic indeed.

The Ones Who Couldn't Stay

“The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.” –Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, p. 76

In Ursula K Le Guin’s short story, The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, readers are introduced to a frighteningly idealistic community called Omelas. At first, Omelas seems like the perfect place to live in. Le Guin maps out cheerful citizens, bountiful music as part of a magical festival and all that genuine happiness looks like throughout a perfect setting. For quite some time, readers are persuaded to see the beauty of that city—that is, until the condition is revealed. Locked away in a grotesque prison is a malnourished and severely neglected child. In order for the utopian society to persist, the child must live in impossible conditions. The child sleeps on his/her own feces, is fed only corn meal and grease hastily, and lives in a basement replete with absolute darkness. The citizens of Omelas know this, and some often visit him. Yet, you’ll find those who are exposed to that reality do one of two things: continue inhabiting the city with little contact of the young child or become among the small group of the ones who walk away from Omelas.

The quote provided sheds light as to why the ultimate sacrifice for this city would be the imprisonment of a child. Consider a child. Children are naive and pain is merely a concept understood as a result of aging. A child doesn't believe happiness is stupid, in fact, a child’s main goal is to be happy as much as possible. Children don’t understand “growing pains” at first. Only adults have concluded that wisdom is a product of pain endured and lessons learned. A child’s happiness possesses innocence. It is neither complex nor complicated. Even if a child believes he/she needs something specific to be happy, after some time, a true child is content with enjoying anything that is even slightly interesting. We have a bad habit of acknowledging pain more than happiness. Yes, we understand happiness more after the presence of pain, but there is nothing like naive, unstoppable happiness. The constant urge and drive to find happiness without the complexity of understanding consequences.

Now the story’s introduction poses a significant question: would you pay this price to live in a Utopian society? Would you sacrifice a child’s development and overall life for the happiness of your own? I can’t say that I would. I believe that this life was established from the very beginning. We as human beings cannot produce perfection nor can we imitate and attempt to build it. Underneath all of the happiness filled throughout Omelas, there was still an underlying sadness for its citizens who knew what was being sacrificed. Underlying sadness contends with complete happiness.  Since you find, even in this story, that absolute happiness is unattainable, that means perfection is just as impossible to possess or create. A Utopian society is impossible to create for many reasons, but of them all one stands out—There is always someone somewhere who is unhappy with the way things are.

This is What it Means to Say 'I Understand'

“We are all given one thing by which our lives are measured, one determination. Mine are the stories which can change or not change the world. It doesn’t matter which as long as I continue to tell the stories.” -Sherman Alexie, This is What it Means to say Phoenix Arizona

In Alexie’s short story, readers are initially introduced to pure-blooded Indian, Victor, who just lost his job and unfortunately enough, his father. Needing to make arrangements and claim his father’s small inheritance, Victor finds himself in front of the Tribal Council pleading for financial help. Victor is then forced to try and make do with the small change he is given to travel to Phoenix, Arizona. At this point, the audience meets the story’s strange but noble hero—Thomas Build-a-fire. Thomas and Victor had grown together, but Thomas’ love for story-telling seemed to drift him away from both Victor and his community. Nonetheless, we find that though Victor had once beaten Thomas in a drunken rage at the age of fifteen, Thomas still offers to help in exchange for his accompaniment along the trip. With no other choice, Victor reluctantly accepts all the while remembering the times the two spent together as children.

The provided quote helps readers to understand Thomas’ character even more. At first glance, it seems he might be in his own world, but after learning that he grew up with little family, it becomes evident just why Thomas lives to tell stories-- a reason I completely identify with. Thomas explains that we are all given one gift that makes us who we are, and these gifts motivate our very pursuits and mold the perceptions that the world carries for us. Thomas’ gift was story telling. He understands that his stories hold the power and possibility of changing the world. To him, it doesn't matter who is listening to judge or listening to understand. As long as someone is listening, give it be an animal, his gift was still being used. He still had his stories to deem friends.  I, myself, can understand his logic.

I write. It is my one determination. I write short stories and extensive one’s quite often. Though I am not as bold as Thomas to share these stories, it doesn't change the fact that I am ready to write at moment's notice. I write to understand and to fill inadequate spaces in my life, just as Thomas does. Thomas lost his mother, father and never had any siblings. His story telling has become all of those relationships for him. He visions and shares, as I do myself. Any gift given and mastered has a greater likelihood of greatly affecting the world. I've always believed that. Thomas isn't a strange man merely staying true to a promise he made years in advance, he is a person who has mastered his craft and no longer needs approval from anyone to understand nor accept it. Consider even his tribal name—Build-a-Fire. Typically, when a group or tribe is camping, a fire is built. Once everyone encircles that flame, stories are inevitably told. This idea in itself alludes to the idea that Thomas was meant to tell stories from the very beginning. The aforementioned quote just helps readers to grasp that idea while providing an insightful undertone that calls us all to both embrace and master our gifts.