Skip the Door

I had planned on talking about a story I read a week or so ago but I recently read a short story by Sherman Alexie that I enjoyed so much I would rather talk about it. The story's title is "Breaking and Entering" and can be interpreted a different way every time you read it. The story is about an independent film editor who is a victim of a breaking and entering while he is in his house. Without giving away anything important let me just say that one thing led to another and the right to act upon a person wrongfully breaking into your house may have been taken to far. The first time I read it I felt sympathy for the man who had to fend off a burglar. As I thought about what I read I didn't consider the fact that the narrator is the man who was being burglarized. I then read it in the light of a man on testimony defending his actions of his violent defense. He did not seem guilty but the question of who was to blame became more disputable. This story can be interpreted many ways and it brings up many good points pertaining to racism, proper justice and honesty. For the few, if any, people that read this, read this story:

http://peopleandstories.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/breaking-and-entering.pdf  

Frankenstein

The popular culture view of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein demonstrates the degeneration of society that has been gaining speed for the past several decades. The only information drawn from the story is from the horrific instances related to the monster rather than taking the merit offered through Shelley's composition. The message trying to be passed can still be done even if the recited story is taken out of context from the book but the recitation tends to have the monster's tale embellished to the point where he is only meant to convey fear in the recipient of the story. The commonly known, misinterpreted version of the story goes something like this: Evil scientist creates monster from assembled corpses and the monster begins to wreak havoc on the town until a mob of townspeople end his life. This rendition is solely to appease the interests of the majority that would find reading a relatively short novel too much work. I know I am not the first person to show discomfort with this but it still needs to be said. The monster's name is not Frankenstein either, he doesn't have a name.

Ain't Nothin More Important than the Mula -Big Sean

In my English Literature class we discussed a poem that goes by the name "The Garden of Love." This William Blake written poem discusses the idea of what freedom really constitutes as. In the poem a young boy reminisces about a beautiful field he once played in that is now controlled by a religious group who built a Cathedral and a graveyard and now the boy feels as if he has had something taken away from them. In that class discussion I commented on what freedom means to different people and how some people can help people feel free through other ways they may be overlooking. This is something I already had written but I wanted to share it somewhere it is not confined to the people in my class. It is an issue that always comes to mind. 

I'm not trying to be sacrilegious in any way. I respect all religions and whatever a person may want to believe in. That being said, the only thing that lives truly free on Earth anymore are plants and wild animals both to a certain degree. Humans live under other humans that have obtained more power. Many animals live under the rule of humans but their several species that live amongst themselves and no other inhabitable humans. Plants do nothing more than grow freely wherever they are and even if they are in a garden or in a pot inside somewhere they are still free and live under less confinement than most other living things in this world. This takes me back to the poem and how Blake uses plants as a symbol for freedom. The flowers in the garden and the other plant life grew freely in an open field without being planted by man or having in sort of influence. Later on in life a cohort of religious locals decide that they are going to build in that location thus, ceasing all plant life.The moment they began digging up the field in preparation for the Chapel is the same moment they stole the plants freedom. On top of that, they didn't even plant more but rather "planted" beings that were already dead. This coincides with the children who had fond memories of running around in a beautiful field but now no longer have that option. The only option they now have in that location is to sit at a pew and sing to a God they have never seen before. This is the part where I fear I cross lines with sacrilege. This story can be connected with modern times and religion. One defined thing that cannot be denied is that if people come across controversy in their life whether it be a natural disaster or something along those lines is that money can help their cause so they can rebuild. Many religions are known to pray for the unfortunate people that have come across such horrors. There is nothing wrong with that in any way and it is nice to have good thoughts put out for those people but the issue is with where they pray. Religious people have shown that they are willing to spend an abundance of money on their buildings that they worship in. Some of them have technology greater than public schools have. This money ought to go to a cause greater than that such as helping the less fortunate. It confuses me that such grand temples are made in the names of deities that are supposed to be against materialism. Worship in an all gold Cathedral should not be held higher than worship in a cardboard box.

Poetry

As an English Education major you would think I would be better at dissecting poetry than I really am. My only explanation for this is my lack of interest in it. I understand that I will come across in almost every class I take from now until I graduate which I have already accepted. Every poem I read I attempt to force myself into enjoying it but for some reason end up disliking it even more. There are the rare poems that I thoroughly enjoy but they are not often enough. The least the author could have done was follow a rhyme scheme. The poems that lack this make for a much more difficult read for me. Why not just write it as a short story instead writing in stanzas and titling it as poetry. Poetry that does not rhyme is the abstract art of literature to me. Anyone can splash paint on a canvas and call it art. I don't have room to criticize because I've never successfully done either but I hope one day that I will find joy in reading poetry.

Today I will talk about a story that I recently came across again and believe that it is one of the most powerful short stories, especially for how short it really is. Kate Chopin's "Story of an Hour" takes no longer than ten minutes to read but will leave you thinking for much longer. The story is about a woman who finds out her husband has been involved in a train wreck. She begins acted as anyone would expect with hysterical disbelief at the occurrence but it does not take her long to turn that hysteria into a euphoric state. The ending is the best part and is open to a wide amount of interpretation and something that you must read on your own to come up with your own opinion. The story speaks strongly on the role of women in that time period and how society was forced to view women through the point of view of a man without input from anyone else. The stereotypes were strong and expected of the women. Many things have changed since this story was written but there are still prejudices from that period of time that still hold today. More people should read this story and other work done by Kate Chopin, it would do the world some good. But who read anymore?

I'm going to venture off topic yet again for today's blog. Several months ago I started a television show called Dexter. It is about a serial killer who only kills other murderers in attempt to "balance the scales." It is the first television show that I have watched consistently that wasn't a mindless cartoon. I always prefer a book version of a story over a recorded version but it was not until I was a couple of seasons into the show that I found out it was a book series, should have guessed. The sloth inside me told me that I was to far into the show to begin the books and I just went along with it. Every now and again I regret it because some of the characters on the show aren't working out for me. I won't say any specific names but if you watch the show, you may agree with me on a few. If it wasn't for Michael C. Hall playing the character of Dexter to the point where anyone else would seem wrong, I might have given up on the show already.

Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club may be the only book with a movie that exceeds its brilliance. I do not say that lightly either because I have not read any other book with the same haste quite like I did Palahniuk's masterpiece. Having Brad Pitt and Edward Norton as the two main characters is bound to help any movie but the story they had to work with and the ways they bent the original story were nothing short of perfect. It is difficult to explain knowing that someone who reads this has potentially neither read or seen this story so I will do my best. The ending in the written version laid the story to rest ending it in a peaceful manner that does not exist in the rest of the book. Almost the entirety of the book has you forgetting to breathe but quickly lands you on your feet recollecting all that has happened and even with the way it ends, wondering how it got to that point. The cinematic version of the film breathes in a chaos polluted world and reminds you that once you have reached a certain point that there is no turning back or easy way out. The ending still has serene qualities to it but is nothing more than searching for the beauty in chaos. If you try hard enough, it is there.