Renowned Lines of Well-Known Books (Spoiler Alert!)

     "I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as

gennerally happens in such cases, each time is was a different story."
 
     That line is from the book titled Ethan Frome (1911) written by Edith Wharton (1862-1937).  Wharton is also known for her other works, such as Old New York and The Glimpses of the Moon. 

     This novel is a story of love, as well as a tale of dealing with one's mistakes.  The narrator arrives in a small Massachusetts town called Starkfield for the winter, and he immediately hears stories of a mysterious Ethan Frome whom was injured in a accident 20 years prior to the novel's set time.  The book then backtracks, and we are taken to Starkfield 20 years earlier.  We see that Frome is taking care of his extremely ill wife, Zeena.  His wife's cousin, Mattie is taken in to help with the care of her.  We immediately see a strong tension between Frome and Mattie.  Frome has developed a strong attachment towards her wife's caregiver, and we soon observe that she feels the same for him.  After some plot-twists, and decisions made by Zeena, Frome and Mattie eventually decide to take "one last sled ride" down a dangerous slope, so they can be together forever.  Fast forward 20 years, and we see the narrator enter the Frome house to see a disfigured Frome and 2 women, one of them severely paralyzed and the other his wife.  What a story.

   A link to a summary is here.

     I noticed that critics gave quite a bit of mixed reviews for this work.  Some say that this is a classic piece of literature, while others argue that this is nothing more than a tale meant to depress the reader.  This is apparently taught at some high schools, where this story is infamous for its doom-and-gloom attitude.   While some appreciate the story structure and the lessons taught, many others despise the ending and the following grieving state experienced by the reader.  

Here is a link to a review page.

     I have to say, I probably would not read this unless a copy magically appeared on my bookshelf.  I'm not usually a fan of romantic tragedies...especially not ones that involve sledding accidents.  Also, I'm not a big follower of the "crushed dreams" genre.  Sure, I'll read a sad story every now-and-then, but I feel like this book goes beyond sad.  It's just plain painful.

    

     And now for a new quote, yay!

                                                        "I closed my eyes, head

drooping, like a person drunk for so long she no longer knows she's drunk, and then, drunk, awoke to he world which lay before me"

     This line originates from the book Don Quixote: Which Was a Dream (1986) by aouther Kathy Acker (1947-1997).  She is also known for writing things such as N.Y.C. in 1979  and Empire of the Senseless. 

     This book is pretty much about a woman with a distrust in men.  It goes into explicit descripitions of what happens to her, and what causes her to lose trust in anything/anyone.  Don Quixote is a story (from a very, very long time ago) about a knight and his adventures.  Kathy Acker reinvented it to the modern day, and reinvisioned it as a feminist story.  That could be why this review by me is so short.  I'm a dude, dude.

     Here you go.  (Scroll down once on the page)

     Well from what I've read, it seems as if all (most) of the men who read this book say "it sucks" and all (most) of the women say "OMG I LOVE IT".   If you're a happy, bubbly, and/or morally uncorrupted person, this book may not be for you.  Acker's work is known as rather cynical and depressing.  She sheds light on subjects that most of us would rather leave in the dark. 

     Here is a review.  (It's the same as the summary, I couldn't find much on it)

     I would probably read this if I found a copy sitting around somewhere, but I wouldn't go out and find it myself.  The subjects of truth and reality, I adore.  And Appearently that's the main focus of this novel, with an emphasis on feminism.  Like I said earlier, that's a pretty big downer in a book for me.  It's not that I'm sexist or anything, I'm just not a feminist. 

A Passage That I Find Memorable

     It took me awhile to think of a good passage to post for this, but I finally found it.  The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho is one of my all-time favorite reads.  I may not agree with all of the theistic undertones, but I do very much enjoy the themes about omens and the Soul of the World.  This book follows the story of an Andalusian boy who goes from being a shepherd to becoming a traveler.  The people he meets, the thoughts he thinks, and the dialogue spoken between characters are all very meaningful.  I can't really say much without giving it all away, so here's the excerpt:

     "The seer was a specialist in the casting of twigs; he threw them on the ground, and made interpretations based on how they fell.  That day, he didn't make a cast.  He wrapped the twigs in a pieces of cloth and put them back in his bag.
     "I make my living forecasting the future for people," he said.  "I know the science of the twigs, and I know how to use them to penetrate to the place where all is written.  There, I can read the past, discover what has already been forgotten, and understand the omens that are here in the present.  When people consult me, it's not that I'm reading the future; I am guessing at the future.  The future belongs to God, and it is only he who reveals it, under extraordinary circumstances.  How do I guess at the future?  Based on the omens of the present.  The secret is here in the present.  If you pay attention to the present, what comes later will also be better.  Forget about the future, and live each day according to the teachings, confident that God loves his children.  Each day, in itself, brings with it an eternity""

    

Writers as Readers or Readers as Writers?

    When I read I need to be comfortable (which means sitting in some unnatural-looking position), and I need the lights to be the perfect balance between dark and bright.  I will read just about any genre, minus the super-girly ones.  Ravyn always tries to get me to read her medieval princess books, no matter how many times I say "Ehhh, no thanks,"  I really enjoy things like alternate history, or utopian/dystopian futures.  I don't quite know what causes my fondness of these reads.  I don't think that I write like any certain author, for I try to take my influences from a broad range of influence-ers.    I try to have my own style, or as unique as I can be in such a small world.

     I taught myself how to read at the ripe, old age of 3.  My parents didn't understand it.  They weren't exactly stressing a reading program at the time.  I just remember knowing the alphabet, and figuring out what words sounded like phonetically by basing it off of the names of the letters.   The first thing I remember reading was a pamphlet on mushrooms and different types of fungus.  I thought the pictures looked cool, and that made me want to know the names of all the pretty little 'shroomies (as I would call them).  My preschool teacher was shocked, for she thought she was the only literate person in an ocean of tiny people.  From then on, I got to read during story time.  Lucky me.

Daydreamin'

     My mind often wanders beyond the here-and-now.  I'm probably one of the worst people about daydreaming.  It sometimes makes it hard to concentrate on what people are saying.  Oftentimes, I have to have them repeat what they're saying because I keep zoning out.  Most of the times my daydreams are hopeful glimpses into the future, like getting a promotion or a new job or getting an A on a test, yadda yadda yadda.  Sometimes, however, my daydreams wander off into the darkness of what-can-go-wrong.  What would happen if I did this, altered that, changed when, transformed where, and figured out how?  These are thoughts that I am blessed/cursed with.

     The fantasies can last a few seconds, or even about 20 minutes.  It just depends on what I'm supposed to be doing.  They're pretty much just an escape; a way for me to live my dreams/face my fears while I'm stuck in my College Algebra class.

On the Subject of Dreaming..

     I think that dreams developed as an evolutionary advantage.  Early mammals spent more time asleep than most other types of creature, so they needed a way to make up for lost time.  So the animals whose minds were most active while sleeping developed a strength over the other individuals because the ones whom thought the most (dreamt) in their sleep had also learned the most.  Thus meaning they were more likely to survive, reproduce, etc.  It may seem like a shallow way to view such a potentially deep subject, but I think it makes sense. 

   Oddly enough, though, I do believe that the dreams of modern humans are capable of making contact with dimensions unknown.  My girlfriend is a devout believer in Astral Projection and claims that every night when she sleeps, she travels the world through flight and/or teleportation.  While we can't prove any connections between the "dream world" and the "real world", we can only wonder in amazement at the things that help (or hinder) us at nighttime.

The Silhouette

           "You don't find the answers, you find pieces of the puzzle," my father's voice ran through my head.  He'd been away for some time now, on an 'important' business trip.  I was just trying to pass some time by going through all my playlists, skipping all the songs that I didn't want to listen to (pretty much all of them.)   Getting fed up with that pattern, I pulled out my copy of The Giver to start reading.  As I opened the tattered front cover to read the oh-so-familiar prologue, I noticed a peculiar sound coming from the basement.  The sound was almost a cross between a lion's roar and a baby's squeal.  It lasted only a few seconds.  Instead of investigating, I shrugged it off as a noise my odd cat had somehow made.  It continued for a few minutes, just on and off.  It was only after the first chapter of my book that I started to get fed up with it, and I went downstairs to check it out.  Everything was in order, and nothing made a sound while I was down there.  Oddly enough, though, my cat wasn't in the basement.  I had remembered that I let him outside earlier.  As soon as I came to this realization, the house started shaking.  Because we live in San Francisco, I didn't think much of it.  But then the house really started shaking.  Things flying off of walls, windows shattering, lights flickering on and off at a rapid pace.  It was only after the noise that I realized something was not normal about this.  It was that horrid, raging noise that made me understand that this was not a natural event.  It sounded as if 5,000 babies were screaming in unison, along with the roars and bellows of all of Hell's beasts.  I had covered my ears, it did little to help me.  I was so confused, I did not know what was going on.  I was about to reach for the phone to dial for help.  But when I looked, there was no phone.  I looked down the hall a little bit, and the only thing I could see was an outline of a man.  Little did I know at the time, but this was my first encounter with a Demon.  He was dark and absorbed light, so I couldn't get a good look at him.

Maya Angelou, My Response To

A caged bird, probably singing.

     Maya Angelou said a caged bird will sing not of joy, but of the longing for freedom.  This makes much sense to me, because I find it unlikely that anything living behind bars would be happy there.  I know if I were locked up and kept as some one's (or some thing's) pet, I would often think about what it would be like to enjoy the freedom that was taken from me.

     She also believes that all people have a "universal power to triumph over adversity."  I strongly agree with Maya here.  I know that this power exists within me. I also know that when I need it most, it will surface for the cause.  I use it in small ways every day of my life, or at least the essence of it.  I see it used all of the time, being used by people of all ages.  All you need to prove this remarkable ability's existence is to flip on CNN or another news station.  Watch, observe, listen, and you will here countless tales of how people overcome tragedy. 

     Angelou also states that talking about her bad dreams "gives them too much power."  I very much do agree with this, as I am a believer of the Law of Attraction.  The Law of Attraction simply states that "like attracts like."  Therefore whatever may be on our minds, the physical world around us will somehow attune to it.  So when you are thinking extremely negatively, you are very much more likely to have negative things happen to you or around you.  In contrast, when you think positive things, you attract the positive energies in the world around you.  Yes, I do believe her when Angelou says that her bad dreams gain more power when thought about.

     I think its safe to say that our subject, Ms. Angelou, is a polyglot.  She is comfortable using 7 languages!  I'm not sure if I could ever master that many languages, but I definitely want to know more than two.  I think that it is important to be more cultured in an ever-changing global society.  I have a head start in French and Spanish already so if I were to pick a couple languages to become fluent in, I would choose those pretty quickly.  If after I mastered those I still have a hunger for more language,  I'd go with either Portuguese or Italian.  It'd have to be those because they are so closely related to Spanish and French that I could pick up on them rather fast. 

I am...

I am…

a son, the first born, raised in post 9-11 America,  life in a Midwestern city, and the wish to be happy.

a brother, the teacher, a good brother now, ashamed of how I used to treat my sister growing up.

a student, wishing to be done with what seems like an eternity of “learning”, working for what I hope will be a good life.

a boyfriend to Ravyn,  the most amazing girl that I’ve ever met, the greatest planetary mapper I know, and the best-looking geologist I’ve ever laid eyes on.

a server, with almost 2 years under my belt, at the Waterford where anything can and will happen, most of the elder folk there love me, some find it hard to escape 80 year old rutts.

a president to the Gardening Club, where I have no idea what I’m doing, but it seems to be working okay.

I am…

unsweet tea and sunchips, milk and chocolate chip cookies.

the uniqueness of a Winter snowflake, the roar of thunder in the skies during the Spring rains, the smell of fresh-cut grass on a Summer day, the crunch of leaves under feet in Autumn.

a netflix account with way too many things in the “recently watched” section.

a large collection of glass art pieces, the plant that is almost ready to harvest, and the feeling of a job well-done.

I am…

dirty blond hair and hazelish-brown eyes,  with the extremely white skin and bright red lips that my mother oh-so-nicely gave to me.

Average hieght, skinny and rather boney.

tattered jeans, a pair of Toms, a generic T-shirt, and a jacket.

a legal adult now, whether I feel like it or not. (I don’t even know the paperwork I need to fill out!)

yearning to be older, wiser, and more experienced…