Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Remember Me!

The time has come...the last blog. A blog I was so sure I would be unbelievably excited/relieved to write, and here I find myself sentimental, a little sad. The day is upon us...graduation (ok, two presentations and three exams and four papers away). A day I've waited months, really years for--watching my friends finish and perform that so-desired of rituals, I've wanted it so much. I was so excited to start the next exciting phase of my life. I honestly only expected to feel a little bit of sadness.
Yet, I realize I am leaving, just as I am starting. "In my ending is my beginning...Through the unknown, remembered gate, when the last of earth left to discover, is that which is the beginning.” I am, for the first time in my entire college career, enjoying all of my classes. I still miss the occasional class, but instead of just feeling guilty, I am genuinely sorry to have missed whatever we might have learned. This class has been a major part of that enjoyment...this class has helped me to see that "the journey is the thing." (Homer, The Iliad)
So just as I'm getting into college, truly, and it's about time...it is ending. So is the way of life. Yet I feel as if I am just beginning...I'm coming into myself, discovering who I want to be. I can make jokes aloud now, I can express my opinion more, I can get up in front of a class without having a panic attack and share important memories. This has truly been the most influential semester of my college career, except for my abroad experience, and this class was a major part in making that happen.
What next? Well, who knows, for all of us, but I feel so so grateful to have had a class with all of YOU. Thanks for the constant amazement and humor and inspiration and occasional shock. I am also incredibly grateful that, my last class, I had a class with THE Dr. Sexson. This is my first class with our resident genius, our Yoda, and I am sad to say, my final. I'm glad I was able to get into it, despite the red tape the English office had to cut through, and I'm glad to experience this epiphany with all of you! Too much brilliance for me to possibly list...and that continued with the presentations today. Group 3, the idea of reading lines from everyone's blogs was brilliant and an awesome ending to the semester--and I loved the tree of hands! Definitely brought back kindergarten memories :). I felt pretty stupid to not have realized these were all blog-lines until I heard one of my own...but slowly I came to realize why all of the words sounded very familiar. I loved that a idea...a mini tribute to all of us! Perfect!
The last group also was a tribute...we were all treated to the funeral of the English major. I loved that we all had a tombstone, and I loved the red brick atop Katie's head!! You all tied the class together through blogs and texts, and it was great fun, and definitely brought a few tears to my eyes a one point...I know, I'm a crybaby. I can't remember the exact point, as I was too involved to write it down, and I admit that bothers me. I think it was one of my own little epiphanies, a moment gone so fast I didn't even realize it, and will spend the rest of the day trying to remember it. We are all losing something, moving on...that is the way of life, again, but it still invokes much feeling.
We ended the class with the video of the night in the Baxter...very well edited, fun to watch, although watching myself on camera is not so fun. Great job to everyone who participated, and to Ben Miller the brilliant editor, and to Zuzu for again figuring out the technological mysteries.
Now, I will end the blabbing, the stream of consciousness once again...as Shakespeare said, "My thoughts fly up, my words remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go." (Hamlet)
I will end the semester with more words from Hamlet...remember thee, remember me, remember Dr. Sexson and Craig and Mick and Kari and Taylor and Sam and Derek and Nick and Rian and Abby and Katie and Helena and Zuzu and Adam and Robert and Tai and Douglas and Lisa M and Lisa Little Legs and Erin and Jennie Lynn and Ronald and Brianne and Joan and Kevin and Victoria and Pat, remember you! (And anyone else I may have forgotten) Someday, we will all be ghosts too...or in a different world, if we choose to pass through the curtain (I had to mention Harry Potter just ONCE). I wish you all well, in whatever world you happen to be, whatever you do, whoever you become. It's been a privilege! May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.

"Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee!
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there...

ADIEU, ADIEU! REMEMBER ME. I HAVE SWORN'T."

The Final Presentations Begin!

Where do I start? As the presentations began, I was mind-boggled! They were both so different but I thought they complimented each other very nicely (although I was a part of one of them...)--elegiac vs. humorous.
Before I start raving about my group, let me rave about Group 1! I was so entertaining and fun to watch--and so many different connections with the text I didn't even catch at first, thanks to my level of amusement! It's one of those things I would have to watch over and over to catch every little reference, which made it amazing. I loved Kevin as Hamlet-the-gamer, Hamlet confused as he graduated college--it somehow still captured the essence of Hamlet. Rosie the hippie was PERFECT, and Mick...wow. You were so psyched about life as usual, even as a privileged frat boy! Pat, that wig killed me...and the fact that you have other crazier wigs! Victoria you were quite believable as the mean girlfriend aka Virginia Woolf, and Adam's portrayal of Horatio was something I never would have thought of, and the best Horatio I have ever seen (and I've seen three productions of Hamlet...lots I know)!! The whole presentation never would have occurred to me, and I'm glad it did to all of you. It was such a fun combination of the texts and ideas we've read in class, and an awesome juxtaposition to modern life, kudos to all of you, Adam and Zuzu and Kevin and Victoria (almost wrote Virginia there) and Mick and Pat!
Now...East Coker!
First off, it was SO FUN. I usually am not a fan of group presentations--someone gets stuck with all the work or takes over, someone never shows up, it's awkward and stilted...but not with our group. I felt comfortable contributing my own ideas, even among the smarts in our group, and it seems like everyone else did too. It was also fun that I got to practice my lines from East Coker, which all relate very much to the Eucharist and Jesus and Easter and Adam's curse.
The music was amazing, truly, thanks Tai!, and Doug was our awesome star. Kari was the absolute best Communion Leader ever, Sam made the most beautiful programs, Rian was the best communion-partner ever, and Taylor I am in awe of your constant amazing brilliance. That same could be said about the rest of our group too! Thanks again, it was seriously fun...and I think we addressed the issue of our mock communion being sacrilegious pretty well. That thought definitely occurred to me, and as one who's been to many communions in my parent's Lutheran church, I honestly can't see anyone having a problem with it. We tweaked it, altered it, made it our own enough that it felt like a new kind of communion, with our music and Doug shaving and tea and petite madeleines and chaos and hints of Jewish flavor. And our goal was the same--we weren't claiming to be taking the blood and body of Christ, but we were hoping to stir some sort of spiritual experience in all of our classmates, to find the extraordinary in the ordinary...the epiphanies in the every day. I in turn felt very spiritual...and also couldn't help enjoying the rest of my group members with their music and memorized lines and dramatic touches and police reports and shaving cream!
I should stop here before I gush everyone's socks off...it's getting a little late.
Again...thanks! I'm so glad that my last group presentation in college was with all of you, Douglas and Rian and Tai and Sam and Taylor and Kari, talk about going out on a high note!!

Wednesday's Presentations

Well, Wednesday, after what I'm sure was my own stunningly brilliant presentation (haha...) followed Adam, Mick, Pat, and Victoria.
Adam is basing his paper on The Last Temptation of Christ, yet another book I have not read, but it was a great idea to model your paper after that. The book sounds fascinating, I'm going to have to search it out! Jesus being swayed by the pleasures of human life, by perhaps wanting to give up his duty of being the Messiah, sounds absolutely riveting. Adam used this book to introduce the eternal question: should we nourish the body, the spirit, or somehow both? I'm interested to read more about his ideas of individual duty vs. sacred duty.
Mick, you were a pleasure to watch thanks to your sheer enthusiasm. I agree that this is the most fun paper ever, and it sounds like your paper will also be a pleasure to read! I got a little lost sometimes...so many different facets!...but the idea of following a path from the mountain, to the cave, into the furnace, then ascending to the garden sounds like a great way to incorporate many different ideas and many different texts, both read in class and in others. I like you concept of a whole "Stairway to Heaven" theme from the furnace to the garden, and I like that you don't know exactly what the snake will portray yet, but that there will be one!
Pat's paper is dealing with the "kingdom of Heaven is within," idea, of comparing epiphanies of the outside to epiphanies of the inside. My paper is based a lot on outside influences on epiphanies, so this idea is especially relevant to me. Another thing Pat said stuck with me and really helped in the writing of my paper: "don't overthink it." I have a serious tendency to do this, and after last Monday's presentations, I was trying too hard to make my paper just as brilliant as those of my peers, and forgetting to let my own brilliance (as it is) come through, rather than think too hard and attempt to write a paper that doesn't capture my own essence.
Victoria was our last presenter. And I LOVED her idea! One of my favorites, I hope I get to read your paper! Music as epiphany is such a great idea, and her use of each sections as different music stations was great. I also borrowed (ahem, stole) her idea of opening each section of the paper with a quote, and the idea that the words don't always matter. As English majors, we put so much stock into words and their meaning. Right now, I'm taking a creative writing class emphasizing poetry, and with the words of Victoria, this really seems like a lesson I need to learn. My professor is always stressing that I don't need to be so blunt and to-the-point, that the images and sounds will speak for themselves. Sometimes just the sound of the words can be enough, and this idea is still a bit uncomfortable and surprising for me. I always want there to be a specified meaning behind each word...but as Victoria points out, music doesn't always have words, and can have great meaning behind it.
Great job to all of my classmates, gold stars to all of you for your fantastic presentations. Can't wait to read the papers!

Sunday, April 25, 2010

BAM!

That is the sound of this paper hitting the desk--it's heavy in weight and in words! I had a great time writing it, so much that I didn't want to stop...hence the tardiness. So here, hopefully, is the best paper I've ever written!! Enjoy.


Amy McMahon

24 April 2010

Dr. Sexson

Literature 494

VOICE OF THE HIDDEN WATERFALL

“The journey is the thing.”

(Homer)

Epiphanies inspire and form us, us English majors, and so one day Dr. Sexson decided to fulfill a wish to model a class after this revelatory idea. We proceeded to read many works, some we’d already read, some well loved, some not liked, some brand-new, to search for the elusive turning point, the moment of change, the revelation. For me, I was surprised at how perfect this class was as an ending or an enhancement of many years of formal education. Full of reflection, we explored our own personal legends, our individual epiphanies, our “A-HA!” moments and the little “ohs” and “ahs.” We find ourselves, “At the source of the largest river, the voice of the hidden waterfall, and the children in the apple tree, between two waves of the sea”(Eliot 59). We find ourselves here, in this moment, an epiphany of sorts—for most of us, this IS it, the accumulation of our entire college career, and has been made into a gathering of our complete life, choices and classes, friends and ideas, moments and pictures. If there is anything we have learned, we have learned we should be continually responsive to the presence of the world (M. Sexson) as it is waiting for us, but we won’t be here forever to take it. “Not I—not anyone else, can travel that road for you, you must travel it for yourself” (Whitman).

WANDERER

“Over hill, over dale,

Thorough brush, thorough brier

Over park, over pale

Thorough flood, thorough fire

I do wander everywhere.”

(Midsummer Night’s Dream)

There once was a girl who spent many days writing and reading, and spent many an hour in the outdoors. She loved to explore and she loved her books, and tried to find a way to meld them into two. She read, and explored, explored further than she ever imagined, dreamed of more places and more discoveries, went through school and discovered some classes she did not love, and ideas she could learn to love, and books she would adore, put up with, for four and half years. She read many words and wrote many words, and eventually came to this milestone, this class, this cap of a stone: It’s your only duty, your sacred duty, to write the best paper you’ve ever written. “Through the unknown, remembered gate, when the last of earth left to discover, is that which is the beginning” (Eliot 59).

This duty, these words, leave a slightly panicky feeling, a discomfort in a corner of the mind that doesn’t quite ease unless much writing is commencing rapidly and brilliantly. So, this young girl, quite bright and modest, pondered over this paper and this pressure-filled idea. Captivated by myths she’d read over the years, she wished to explore these further, until a wise man pointed out that these very same Greeks were ruled by fate. Thus, the girl began to wonder, of fate and choice, of the parts of life that made these choices—and for her, the biggest catalyst of the moment of potential transformation was and is nature, and literature. “And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything” (As You Like It).

THE FATED, THE CHOSEN

“All things are in the hand of heaven.”

(Homer)

Not long ago, I came to a point of severe writer’s block, or rather writer’s disability, as I was trying so hard to write I could hardly even spell. As it happened to be one of the first truly beautiful days of our capricious spring, I decided to take a breather, and head out into the outdoors. While I was mulling over where exactly I should go to breathe, I remembered something else I had heard: “It is not so important to visit a place as to re-visit a place” (M. Sexson). When I first heard this, I shrugged it off, again dreaming off all the wonderful places I wish to see, rather than focusing on all the fabulous places I’d been. So, inspired by this, hoping a favorite trail would hold the answer, there I headed. And there, among the typically bright-with-song birds and beautiful colors, I heard a tree fall close by. A small epiphany popped to the front of my brain as I remembered that philosophical question: if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound? This also immediately reminded me of an Eliot quote from Burnt Norton: “the unseen eyebeam crossed” (Eliot 14). Now, according to the rules of science and physics, yes, the tree still makes a sound. However, for me, this idea symbolizes choice. Nature is here, around us and between us, ready to be grabbed and used for our epiphany, but nature itself does not care about the epiphany of the young girl sitting in the woods. Nature continues on, blooming and dying, growing and planting, cycling with the heavens and Earth. It takes us, humans, with our unique and perfect combination of evolution and chance, brains and technology, oxygen and carbon dioxide, to make nature our catalyst, to use these everyday miracles to reach that higher place within ourselves, our mind and our souls.

This leads me to the question of epiphanies and choice. Are epiphanies ruled by fate, or by choice? Are we fated to make every little, seemingly insignificant decision to get to this epiphany, or does one small modification take us on a different path, on an entirely dissimilar passage to a completely unique epiphany?

In this world, it’s difficult to narrow down one’s beliefs due to the sheer volume of options, choices, corridors. Due to this, it’s not always easy to believe in either fate, or in choice. Does every little turn in the road, chosen right or left, always lead us to a different place? Is life merely a journey of taken and missed opportunities? “Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage which we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose-garden” (Eliot 13). Or does it not matter which road we take, because in the end, we’ll get to where we need to be?

In Greco-Roman belief, upon your birth your life was unraveled, measured, and cut by the Moirae, or the Three Fates. Klotho spun the thread of life, Lakhesis, “alloter of lots,” measured the thread, and Atropos, “she who cannot be turned,” made the final cut (Hesiod). The very fact that the goddess who made the final choice “cannot be turned” epitomizes the Greek feelings towards fate: once it was set, it could not be changed. There was no changing of your stars in Greece—in fact, if you attempted to defy the will of the gods, your afterlife in Hades was much worse than the everyman, thanks to the unforgivable sin of hubris.

However, despite the general inflexibility of fate in Greece, choice was not entirely dismissed. For instance, see our good friend Oedipus from Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex and Oedipus at Colonus. When he was a baby, Oedipus was exposed, left to the elements with his ankles bolted, because his parents, king and queen of Thebes, had been told by the Oracle of Delphi that Oedipus would grow to kill his father and marry his mother. This is where the irony sets in, as we all know the horrifying ending—Oedipus does commit all of these, but only because, as a consequence of being abandoned, he did not recognize his true parents. If his parents had not tried to change their fate—if they hadn’t committed hubris—everything would have been prevented. Oedipus is also the ultimate example of the transformation caused by a particularly life-altering epiphany: at the moment of his pure realization, nothing at all in his life could ever go back, he would never be given the peace of forgetfulness until the river Lethe, even though he gouged out his eyes to avoid seeing what his life had become (Sophocles).

The question remains: would any of this had ever happened if one choice had changed, if Oedipus had taken a different road? Would these epiphanies ever have been reached, and are we better for reaching them? For the Greeks, their idea of epiphany was centered in true metamorphosis, which is the ultimate epiphany: even the physical self is altered after this epic comprehension. However, outside of the Greek myths, us everyday beings prefer that this realization is not accompanied by being turned into a tree, as in the myth of Daphne, or by the horrific knowledge of Oedipus: “Fate has a terrible power. You cannot escape it by wealth or war” (Sophocles). The answers to fate and choice may never be answered, and sometimes I need to believe something is meant to be, and sometimes I need to believe that I can change my stars. Perhaps, it comes down to our belief, and how this choice in our mind affects every choice we make, and ultimately, affects our fate.

“No man, against my fate, sends me to Hades.

And as for fate, I'm sure no man escapes it,

Neither a good nor bad man, once he's born.”

(Homer)

NATURE WORTH KNOWING

“People thinking pleasing God is all God cares about. But any fool living in the world can see it is always trying to please us back.” (Walker)

Occasionally epiphanies come without a warning, and sometimes they are the sought-after moment. One may find it cliché to base your epiphanies on nature: after all, the popularity of climbing and hiking and skiing are all sports that base their adventure on reaching the top of the peak and being amazed by the view. However, man is a part of nature, something that is often forgotten among the sidewalks and ovens and computers. Perhaps we find ourselves on a higher plane, and indeed capable of the sophisticated thought that produces epiphanies, but often events that are completely natural inspire this unparalleled moment.

Several Decembers ago, after months of stress and lack of motivation, my beloved dog, still a puppy then, went missing. I bundled up, scared for her and angry to be going out in the cold, and headed around our neighborhood, searching. It was a freezing evening, just before the New Year, and I was tired of the cold, the snow, and just tired of everything. Christmas had been particularly stressful, between family drama and the process of ending a relationship, reminding me again that the glow of my childhood was over, Santa was no longer real, and I was expected to carry the full burden of the dreaded adult. My feet led me to a lonely trail, bright enough under a sky so clear that seemed close enough, in the winter air, for me to reach up and grab one of the many darts of light. Yet, I was so miserable, I did not even notice this—I merely kept my head down, and kept up my search without a pause to glory in my backdrop.

And there, suddenly, sitting by a rock in the tree-surrounded clearing, I spied my dog. My little puppy, constantly with her hound-nose to the ground, was calmly sitting, looking and breathing in her surroundings. This small dog, hyper and happy, usually in constant movement and activity, had noticed something I had not, or rather, wouldn’t let myself detect. She had perceived the proximity of the stars and the smell of the trees, had found herself a perfect little spot on that frosty evening. There, in that clearing, I realized that I while I had been keeping my feet on the ground, I had forgotten to keep my eyes on the stars, thus trapping my soul. I had forgotten to go outside and be with nature, letting winter be my excuse, losing myself in the discouraging events that kept occurring in my life. And so, there I sat, letting a silly puppy dog teach me the value of sitting, thinking, in the outside.

It was not until that later summer when I finally, truly, realized something in my life needed to change. I have a tendency to dig in my heels, and I just would not admit to myself that I needed something else, a new frame of mind, a new place, a new major, something, to change the weariness in my heart. I was working at a ranch near Ennis, Montana, a lonely job as I had the night shift, and was spending much of my time alone. I traveled back to Bozeman every weekend I had, rather than look around and truly know the people working under the same roof. I didn’t realize until later how lonely I had become, but this loneliness was not completely terrible—I loved the absolute freedom of not answering to anyone, of spending my days how I wished. At first, these days went by in a blur of books, and slowly I managed to get somewhat used to my sleep schedule and was able to explore. One day, I went driving around, clicking my camera, hoping to find moments that I could look at later. It was a big field trip day for me—I had a picnic, and I was taking a long way around to see the Red Rocks National Wildlife Refuge. In taking the long way, I found myself on a bumpy, deserted mountain road, that even in my trusty Subaru was difficult to maneuver.

And there, in the middle of a meadow that I had barely noticed, my tire went flat. I was forced to leave the safety of my car and attempt to fix this. I knew the basics of the concept, I knew all the tools to use and had watched this act before, and yet I was at a loss. Panic floated the edges of my mind, like a relentless sliver, and the sliver got a little bigger when I discovered I did not have cell phone service—the horrors! I sat down, in the middle of a dirt road, and had a small little panic attack.

When I finally calmed down, I become aware. I noticed the perfect sky, and the meadow, filled with my favorite wildflower, Indian paintbrush. It was still early in the day, and it really was an ideal summer day. I could see the lake in the distance, full of the trumpeter swans the park is famous for, and for some reason, I was composed. Words floated to my mind, words from Walt Whitman, from a poem I did not realize I had taken anything from. The first line was: "But where is what I started for so long ago? And why is it yet unfound?" I realized how clear everything was in this moment, how everything seemed far away and insignificant in the face of this great wonder around me, and how I had been distancing myself from the lucidity for a long time, out of fear or obstinacy I didn’t know. I realized I had stopped looking for my epiphanies, for my life. The other Whitman words that entered my brain were: “I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.” Which is exactly what I was doing when, moments or hours later, I cannot say, a nice family happened by a fixed my poor job of attaching my spare to the Subaru.

I didn’t realize what these moments were at in their present instant, although I had a vague idea they were “eureka!” moments. I took me several years to really learn what was summed up one day in class in a few words: there is no story worth telling without strife, without conflict (M. Sexson). There is no light without the dark, there is not joy without the pain. “Every moment of light and dark is a miracle” (Whitman). This is true in nature, in the true reason for my personal epiphanies. I went out into the natural world, when I was dark in a lost wood (to paraphrase Dante) and nature showed me what I needed to know, even if it took awhile for the reason to get through my hard skull.

Nature itself is the ultimate example of the light in the dark. The cycles of nature, the rhythm, is based on endings and beginnings, “in my beginning is my end” (Eliot 32). The only way there is ever beauty in the world, is for something else to end. The only way to achieve the epiphany, whether it be a wondrous epiphany or one that means you’re losing something precious, you need an ending to get to this moment. The endings of nature provide these “wow!” moments, the miniature, everyday epiphanies that happen all around us.

Walter Pater and his conclusion to the Renaissance is one the most prominent works we read this semester in my mind. Pater explores the physical thought, and the physical world, and reminds us all of the magic in the everyday: “Like the elements of which we are composed, the action of these forces extends beyond us: it rusts iron and ripens corn. Far out on every side of us those elements are broadcast, driven in many currents; and birth and gesture and death and the springing of violets from the grave are but a few out of ten thousand resultant combinations.”

MEMORY BE GREEN

“To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour.”

(Blake)

A level of epiphany is inspired by memory, and nature can be a great catalyst for memory. Nature and its cycles, while completely unpredictable, is also one of the most reliable things in this world. The falling of the leaves, every year, without a doubt, can always stir up a little memory of a long-ago time. Personally, many natural moments can inspire the memory of so many things. The shooting of a star reminds me of a long-ago night under comets in Yellowstone; the smell of wheat reminds me of my Nebraskan great-grandfather; the taste of coconut brings back the coconut ice-cream shacks on the edges of Ecuador. Gary Snyder, one of the Beat poets, explores this idea of memory and nature in his poetry:

“Last night watching the Pleiades,

Breath smoking in the moonlight,

Bitter memory like vomit

Choked my throat.”

Perhaps what would be a beautiful moment is taken up by the pain of memory. However, this moment, while full of pain, would also not necessarily be an epiphany without this memory, again reiterating that the joy would be much less if there was no pain, the light wouldn’t be as bright without the night.

Memory can be an incredible catalyst for epiphanies: seeing what we once were, seeing how we’ve changed, seeing others who’ve left their footprints long ago, can still change the moment and aid in the search for that peak moment.

"Nor wilt thou then forget,

That after many wanderings, many years

Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,

And this green pastoral landscape, were to me

More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!"

(Wordsworth)

THE LAST BEST GIFT

“Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind

Cannot bear very much reality.”

(Eliot 14)

Whether the moment is an epiphany or a complete metamorphosis, it is the way of our lives, our individual sandglasses of time, that the moment will end. “All that live must die, passing through nature into eternity” (Hamlet). Nature, our foundation, continues as well, the cycles progress, the leaves dance in spring and fall in autumn, the young girl ages in mind and soul and face, (except for those cheeks that refuse to shed that baby fat) and loses some dreams while finding others, her words move on the page as the sun sets and the sun rises.

“I'll tell you a secret. Something they don't teach you in your temple. The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again” (Homer).

The epiphanic moment is over…now we have circled back to fate, and choice. We must choose, choose to immediately search for the next epiphany, mourn the old, or try our best and keep living as life sees fit. With the miracle of the epiphany, we are given a gift, small compared to the epiphany, but, like Ratty and Mole, we are given a “last best gift.” We are given are given forgetfulness, usually a symbol of age, usually a negative symbol, but in the case of an epiphany, can be very helpful. Our lives do not begin and end with the epiphanies, we must continue on, and see what other wonders nature has in store for us. We are given “A…little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water...and with its soft touch [comes] instant oblivion. For this is the last best gift…the gift of forgetfulness. Lest the awful remembrance should remain and grow, and overshadow mirth and pleasure, and the great haunting memory should spoil all the after-lives" (Grahame).

SOURCES

Blake, William. “Auguries of Innocence.” 1863.

Eliot, T.S. Four Quartets. 1943.

Grahame, Kenneth. The Wind in the Willows. 1908.

Homer. The Iliad. circa 800 BC.

Hesiod. Theogony. Circa 700 BC.

Pater, Walter. The Renaissance. 1868.

Sexson, Michael. Everyday Genius. January-May 2010.

Shakespeare, William. As You Like It. circa 1600.

Shakespeare, William. Hamlet. Circa 1601.

Shakespeare, William. Midsummer Night’s Dream. Circa 1596.

Snyder, Gary. “An Autumn Morning in Shokoku-ji.” 1959.

Socrates. The Three Theban Plays. Circa 492 BC.

Walker, Alice. The Color Purple. 1982.

Whitman, Walt. Leaves of Grass. 1892.

Wordsworth, William. “Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey.” 1798.

TITLES:

Voice of the Hidden Waterfall: T.S. Eliot

Nature Worth Knowing: Henri Poincare

Memory Be Green: William Shakespeare, Hamlet

The Last Best Gift: Kenneth Grahame

Monday, April 19, 2010

Hello Anxiety

So after leaving class today, the only things in my brain were "wow" and "yikes." I was ready to go today, but I'm also kind of glad I got pushed back because everyone's presentations were so brilliant and bright and funny! I like Rian's idea about melancholy, and effects of melancholy displayed in literature. I'm looking forward to hearing parts of her paper. Lisa M followed Rian, and despite her cold managed to give a much more coherent speech than Amy the Anxious will manage I am sure. Her plan to model her paper after Keats is creative and ambitious, as are her overall questions of "where do we begin, where do we end, what is life, and what's the worth of living it?" Her discussion of how she's discovering her own difficulties with moving on, feelings she didn't know she had until she began this oh-so-important paper, were also something I can definitely understand.
Then followed Taylor, with her brilliant, creative paper incorporating excerpts from her own childhood diary. Personal and poetic! A few thoughts of hers that stuck with me: "she is me and isn't me," when referring to her younger self, sparks a variety of thoughts about the different people we all live throughout the years. Also I thought "children of the leaves and children that we leave," was a fabulous connection, and that the garden as an "outside of time place" was a wonderful way to look at childhood, and our conceptions of our childhood lives. One more Taylor thought that got me thinking was the whole idea that children are constantly encouraged to be "big kids now," while at the same time their parents are mourning their loss of innocence. It makes me wonder about our society and what is lost as we rush to grow up, another important facet of Tay's paper.
Sam followed Taylor, and although she said she was nervous, of course her diary-formed paper was first-rate. Her separate parts were funny and engaging, and I liked her section about the lost and found box being always in one box, which reminds me of a line I read somewhere (and can't for the life of me find again): "You are the stars which guide the lost and only the lost can find their way." I loved her conception of "navigating Portland, navigating the book," and navigating life through literature.
Last (and not least) was Tai, who, in a sea of laughs, brought forth some creative insights about rituals and their place in our lives, basing much on his own Bar Mitzvah. One of my favorite parts was when he was talking about the sensei who shuffled the medals (and he still managed to get a silver-nice!) and how it took Tai years to "wade through the density" of life and discover the meaning of the words, instead of just listening to the words.
Once again, I feel privileged to be in a class with all of these people, and am getting severely anxious about my presentation on Wednesday. I'm excited about my ideas...which hopefully will come through in my talk. Unfortunately one professor once informed me (ahem Gwen Morgan) that I lose any humor and charm I might possess and become a fumbling robot in front of the class...so can't wait for that magic. And the magic of the future presentations, as well :).

Friday, April 16, 2010

And my paper continues to evolve...

Especially after today, another day of my peer's presentations. Today we heard the paper ideas of Craig, Kari, Doug, and Jennie Lynn. Each of the presentations were great, and I came away from class with another giant list of ideas I could possibly incorporate into my own paper. I loved Jennie Lynn's idea of the core of ourselves being somewhat still, sedentary, something we needed to learn to listen to. Doug's idea of having many little anecdotes gave me more confidence to add my own little stories, and his left me a little teary-eyed (hey, I haven't been sleeping much!) and amused. I also liked his vision of the "capstone" as not necessarily the pinnacle but just part of the peak. Kari's use of herself in the third person: "Kari had failed," added another level of entertainment and interest to her story. The idea that the process/journey is just as important, if not more so, than the result, particularly stood out to me. I also found myself relating to Craig's personal experiences of entering English as a goal to get to graduation more quickly, and finding myself a true English major along the way. (Or should I say finding Amy the true English major along the way?)

All of these ideas have been sparking new directions for my paper...which so far is running into a million different directions. However, as it stands I really enjoy all of these directions, so hopefully I can tie them all together into a more coherent idea! Or several coherent ideas...

Monday, April 12, 2010

Paper Continued, Reconsidered


It is the responsibility of the writer to tell a story...and that the story often reflects more about the writer than the subject of the story, like in Hamlet. The one who tells the story IS the story...and it is the sacred duty of the English major to tell this story, and it is our duty to write our capstone paper, the best paper we've EVER written.

In my end is my beginning...for me, one of the most prominent lines of Eliot. As in any solidly written paper, the conclusion will in some way reflect back to the introduction. As for the papers of my peers, this is obviously a theme they are going with.

My paper ideas have expanded, changed, even as I started writing the first paragraph. I found more inspiration in the poems of Coleridge and Blake, as well as Annie Dillard and Gary Snyder. All expanding away from my previous basis in Ovid and the Greek myths, still using those, but focusing more on nature and metamorphosis. As Dr. Sexson pointed out, most of Ovid's changes revolve around people turning into trees and whatnot...but this is still a life, and existence, a kind of epiphany.

I still don't have a specific thesis, but the paper is coming along and so is the pressure.........

Tell A Story

Something we discussed in class the other day really has been sticking with me as I struggle with my paper, everything we said about stories.

The one who tells the story...IS the story.

For some reason this really strikes me.

The story is so much more than just the story...ideas that are slowly reforming my paper...and I mean slooooowwwllly. The story must have essential elements, like darkness and sadness, and I'm realizing this is essential for the journey of life too...it won't make for an interesting memoir if everything goes well all the time, if there isn't suffering. As Badly Drawn Boy says, "The joy is not the same, Without the pain."

Baxter Hotel

Just a few quick comments about the Baxter! It was a lot different than I expected...but also quite fun. And a nice reception with cookies and grapes.

It was sort of like being an actress for a night, reciting T.S. Eliot. I came unprepared in the mask area, but fully clothed in black, so a kind fellow dressed me up in red and purple feathers and make-up, to enhance my dramatic passage:

Beneath the bleeding hands we feel
The sharp compassion of the healer's art
Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.

Our only health is the disease
If we obey the dying nurse
Whose constant care is not to please
But to remind of our, and Adam's, curse
And that, to be resolved, our sickness must grow worse.


THESIS...FINALLY! Sort of.

I am interested in the physical world and epiphanies...and the idea of the metamorphoses caused by epiphanies.

The cause and effect of epiphanies, if you will.

For a greater exploration of this topic, I will use Ovid's Metamorphoses as well as Walter Pater, Wordsworth, and other nature poets. Also Shakespeare's The Tempest has some valuable insight about the impact the changes of nature has on humans. Kafka's Metamorphosis will also be studied, although I'm not sure how much of this text I will actually use.

The exact wording of my thesis has yet to be determined, and I anticipate much changing, subtle or grander, of my underlying topic as the writing process continues. My inspiration is not predictable...is inspiration ever predictable?...and comes in spurts throughout the paper, occasionally being crammed in the final stages. Thank you Sam for making me feel a little better for not being completely inspired right away...the butterflies were swarming.

Most Valuable Blogger

Upon consideration of the most valuable blog...I had quite a bit of trouble picking one. I wondered why I was picking one person...did they get extra credit? A gold star? A prize lollipop?
Either way, I figured it's an interesting experience in anxiety of influence...of the power of influence...thank you Harold Bloom, who will forever remind me how brilliant I need to be to stand out even a little bit.

Thankfully I'm blessed with a killer wit.

As for the most influential blogger, I still faced a conundrum. Ms. Sam Clanton, of course, was a life saver on more than one occasion--if I happened to miss a class, or be confused on the assignment, or be at a loss about the ideas discussed, Sam's blog was ALWAYS my lifesaver. Giant gold star for that!

As for other content, I continually find myself drawn to Jennie Lynn's blog, Helena's, Kevin's, and Taylor's. Many other blogs from class inspired me too, it is difficult to pick merely one of the many stars.

The same happens when I look back on my life: it's so hard to pick just ONE influential person. Just like the majority of people in my life have shaped me in some way, so did all the blogs shape the way I wrote my own--just like Annie Dillard's obsession with the clown painting--little things catch on and change the fabric. Luckily there were no blogs that were unfortunate enough that you just couldn't stop looking...it IS a capstone level class, after all!

So, personally, I think we should all get a gold star--we've all made it this far, haven't we? We've all conquered and struggled and read millions of words, some enjoyable, some genuinely painful. We've all thought and attempted that journey of the epiphany--we're all pouring our heart and souls into our greatest papers.

Love and Truth


Hamlet's Castle

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love." 2.2

Love and truth...in Hamlet and the Gita. Somebody in our class, I believe it was Mick, mentioned that we rarely ever discuss love in this class, especially as an epiphany. Part of me wonders if this is because love is ruled by passion, not by thought or epiphany: it is more an epiphany of the heart, as seriously corny as that sounds.

But, love can be a spiritual epiphany, as well, as the Gita debates, while Hamlet primarily focuses on the passion, both wonderful and deadly, that can be inspired by love, as demonstrated in this effusive quote:


"I loved Ophelia: Forty thousand brothers
Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum."
- William Shakespeare,
Hamlet 5.1


With the Gita, as demonstrated in this quote, love is another religious experience:
"Still your mind in me, still yourself in me, and without a doubt you shall be united with me, Lord of Love, dwelling in your heart."

I believe, that tied to love in all life, is the desire for the truthful experience. After all, love that is not truthful is not love at all. This quote from the Gita actually came up during a Google search of love quotes for a different paper:
"There is neither this world nor the world beyond nor happiness for the one who doubts."
This quote did not immediately scream love for me, but after thought I conceded that love is closely tied with trust, with truth, and that happiness, love, cannot truly be achieved while there is doubt involved.

As I have discovered the Gita as the Book of Useful Bits (Sometimes Big Bits) of Wisdom, this other quote jumped out at me in my search for quotes about truth and love:
"There is nothing lost or wasted in this life."
Another quote that is not immediately love, rather more of a reminder to be grateful; yet, it reminds me of the Tennyson quote:
"'Tis better to have loved and lost,
Than never to have loved at all."
In Memoriam: 27


Finally, another quote, this one from Hamlet, that reminds me of love...and truth...yet is not obviously love and truth...

"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man." (1.3)

There is no love without truth; that is an epiphany, for me.

Reconciled Among the Stars

As we discussed in class, the Gita and Hamlet both explore the idea that our life on Earth has one purpose: to unite our inherent double nature. This is captured in the following quote from Eliot, as well, in Burnt Norton: "The boarhound and the boar
Pursue their pattern as before
But reconciled among the stars."
I love this quote, mostly because I love the somewhat, well, fanciful idea of finding yourself when you reach the stars. However, both Hamlet and the Gita stress that this will not necessarily happen in the afterlife, but that it should be strived for in this life also. It reminds me of Jung's Tree of Self-Actualization and of the Buddhist idea of nirvana: being free.

It all goes back to finding yourself...

"I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another." Hamlet 3.1

This Shakespeare quote explores the idea of every man being two-sided...and of the goal of many to differentiate themselves from the face they were born with. This is a more Western thought
stemming from our ideas of individuality. Western religion focuses more on the separation of God
mortal, seen in the religion of the Greeks, one of the primary influences for much of Western
thought. However, in Eastern religion, a possible unification of mortals and the divine is explored
to a greater extent.



Here, the Gita again stresses the idea of combining the different facets of the body, the mind, the
soul, all into one, united Self.

"Little by little, through patience and repeated effort, the mind will become stilled in the Self."


For me, this idea of the mind and the Self being two separate entities is difficult...yet it makes
sense. It goes back to the idea of the Soul, of there being a separate consciousness in the body that
not related to the body, the brain, or the heart:



"Consciousness is eternal, it is not vanquished with the destruction of the temporary body." Gita





One quick thought...for some reason this makes me think of comas. I've always wondered what
happens in a coma...even if there is no brain waves, there is still something anchoring this person
to the Earth...perhaps it is the eternal soul, consciousness, not ready to let go.






More stream of my consciousness to come!