I suppose growing up in a convent would be odd

Irony? Ironic...irony?

On any given day I hear one or more people misuse the word "irony." Even I might do it from time to time, but the point is that people do not take the time to educate themselves on the phrases they use regularly. It's sad in a big way. I'm not one of those people who likes to debate it either. I don't stand nearby ready to interject; "Ehem, actually that's not irony...."
There are actually 3 common uses of Irony:
1. Verbal Irony (the most common)
          This is when a speaker says one thing but means another. Most would call this sarcasm, though many scholars argue that sarcasm is not irony (despite it being the original definition). Example: "Yes, I would LOVE to get a root canal sans the anesthetic."
2. Dramatic Irony
          It is used in narratives when an event occurs that the audience may be aware of while the characters are still in the dark.This is a little harder to explain and understand, my literature teacher in high school it explained it as so: In the play Romeo and Juliet she fakes her death. The entire audience knows she is simply asleep, but Romeo believes her to be dead. People often confuse this with situational irony.
Sorry for that spoiler for those of you who still live under that rock.
3. Situational Irony
          This is when something happens and the opposite of what you would expect occurs. This is like buying a gun to protect yourself to only be shot by said gun or taking diet pills to lose weight that end up making you fat.

By now I am sure most of us have heard the song "Ironic" by Alanis Morrisette. Most of those situations mentioned are purely just unfortunate coincidences or events. Rain on a wedding day is not ironic unless you were using a weather machine to make it sunny and the opposite occurred. Good advice that you didn't take it just stupidity, not irony. One could argue that her phrase "It's like 10 thousand spoons when all you need is a knife," is a little bit of situational irony as you would expect a knife somewhere in the mix. Having no bowl would be more ironic. But I am not going to break down all the situations she presents us with. But it's a little ironic that her song isn't actually ironic, perhaps Alanis is more clever than we thought.
What is ironic is the American Board of the Preservation of the English Language attacking Alanis Morrisette claiming she was an example of Americans dumbing down the English language. She is Canadian.

O'Henry is the master of Irony. Perhaps you should give him a read for some good examples.

And just understanding irony doesn't give you the right to say whether something is a good example of irony. If it is ironic than it is ironic. Don't be that guy.

My complete and utter DISDAIN for Marquis de Sade

Oh, Marquis de Sade, you both nauseate and infuriate me. He is, somehow, considered one of the best writers of France's history. His erotic writings helped coin the term "sadism." This can give you a nice hint as to the overall theme of his writings. I find him to be a vile and deplorable individual. His exaltation in the literary world is baffling. He was not enlightened, he was not an existentialist; he was simply a dirty man who wrote about dirty things. If you think James Joyce's love letters were dirty then you have no idea what you are in for. His work was viewed almost as an exploration of sexuality, but it is just pure smut.
He was born in 1740 in Paris and only child to an aristocratic family. They were wealthy and powerful, he lived an ideal childhood, given all the opportunities available to him. When he got older he served in the military, even fighting in the Seven Years War. Later, 1763, he married a young lady of another high-ranking family; Renee -Pelagie de Montreuil. Then things got...weird.
In 1768 he captured an tortured a prostitute. Word got out and the police warned all the brothels as he was considered a threat to all prostitutes (he was feared more than Jack the Ripper). As years passed he was found guilty of all sorts of sexual crimes ranging from public indecency to brutal acts of rape. Later he would seduce and get his sister-in-law to participate in an orgy, enraging both his wife and mother-in-law. Things actually get worse from this point on.
In 1772 he is given the death penalty for his crimes but escapes to Italy. He was then sort of banished from Paris and sent to his wife's family home in Normandy (why she was still with him I haven't the foggiest idea). From 1773 - 1777 he had a harem of young girls he used as sexual slaves. He arranged orgies and had several more scandals before being sentenced to 27 years in prison, that death sentence seemed to go away. It began in a dungeon in Vincennes. During his imprisonment he decided to curve his boredom by writing sexually graphic novels and plays.
After an escape attempt he was transferred to Bastille in Paris in 1784. During this time he wrote Les 120 Journess de Sodome. This became an underground "classic" for over a hundred years. A movie of the piece was made sometime in the 1970s. He was released from an insane asylum in 1790, after which his wife finally obtained a divorce. I am still curious as to why she waited so long.
He then wrote and published Justine (1791) and Juliette (1797) the sequel. These are two of his most famous works. These were about two sisters who, upon being orphaned, begin leading separate but equally depraves lifestyles. He sent a copy to Napoleon in 1803 and this only upset him. He then refused to say de Sade free, since he gone back into prison during this time.

de Sade's explanation for his work goes a little something like this: God is evil and denying this fact only gets you punished, hence Justine's awful treatment in the story (I read one excerpt from it and could hardly stomach that one paragraph). He believed it was our nature to be wicked and act accordingly. He thinks you should act on your instincts...nope. The people who's instincts are to rape and other such things wind up in prison for good reason. We punish these things not because we are trying to make people unhappy but because we want to protect individuals and uphold a good and moral society.
What bothers me the most is how he managed to survive the French Revolution. The only way he avoided being beheaded was to write a eulogy for Marat, the subject of controversy during the Revolution as well as the subject of my favorite painting by David. He played his cards effectively.
It is interesting that in the century following de Sade there was a very definite split between sexual perversions and a complete turn away from anything even remotely sexual. The Victorian era showed us angel-like women with heroic men juxtaposed to a seedy underbelly. The release of de Sade's work created a disturbing awakening. Things people previously thought were wrong became something to try.
"Maybe my depraved thoughts are normal. I shouldn't be worried about my soul."
No. No they are not. You should be concerned that these thoughts enter into your mind.Orgies and brutal rape are not and never will be okay. You feel ashamed of these acts for a reason, some are less sensitive to it than others but the shame is there all the same. People often cite the love letters of James Joyce, but I have read those, and while a little weird, they are pretty tame. These sexual perversions we so readily accept as eccentricities are leading a swift downfall of any honor. dignity, or pride our society had left. de Sade is why snuff films are made.
People will argue with me that de Sade was just writing what we think and want to do. But that can't possibly be true. There are people, upon reading his work, said that those thoughts had never occurred to them and the idea was revolting. de Sade and his followers represent the minority. de Sade believed in decadence and violent, sexual acts. He was everything any decent individual would vilify. They were called perversions for a reason, this isn't a miss-labeling, it is an accurate depiction of how truly far a society can crumble. See that abyss over there?

Allegory of the Cave

Joshua came home and told me about an argument he entered into about Plato. Someone mentioned he had started reading Plato's The Republic and was enjoying it so far. Someone else invited themselves into the conversation, calling this reader a "pretentious fucking, entry-level hipster try-hard, shitty bastard." I won't even start with the fact that his choice of wording was not only sophomoric but also extremely uninspired (if you are going to insult, do it with flare).
First, I shall address the idea that it is pretentious. I think many people lack an understanding of what this word really means. Pretentious simply means creating an appearance of great worth, or ostentatious (the most ostentatious of words, ha. I made a funny). It means to put on a facade. The book itself is not doing this. Someone needs a dictionary. Next point; entry-leve is actually fairly accurate, but that is by no means a bad thing. You need to start somewhere, you can't dive in to Soren Kierkegaard without some basic understanding of some philosophical views.
Try-hard? I don't even understand this one. Hipster? I should certainly hope not. It is my understanding that hipsters do things only for the sake of image without any true enlightenment or understanding of anything. THAT'S PRETENTIOUS. I am done trying to determine where he has any sort of validity to his slew of crass insults.
I never read Plato myself until my freshmen year of college. I took a Philosophy 101 course as an introduction into the world of great philosophers and history. I had one of the best professors, Dr. James Pearce. He was bald, oddly muscular, and wore a lot of turtlenecks or underarmor shirts with sports jackets, but he was brilliant all the same. Even after my class with him we spoke often and had lunch on several occasions, then his wife left him. One day, mid-semester, he just left. Tony and I went to his office and everything was gone. It was sad, but he instilled a love of philosophy in me. I wish I could track him down, but I did find his book on amazon; Learning to Think. Buy it.

We read The Allegory of the Cave by Plato and I became enamored. It represented my awakening and discovery. I identified with the individuals within the story on the most basic level, though the comparisons stop after awhile. If you want to read the entire text click this link as my summary might leave a bit to be desired.
Here is a basic synopsis; there are several "prisoners" living in an underground cave. They have been chained and positioned in a way that they can only see the wall in front of them. They have lived their whole lives liked this (you have to have an open mind here as the situation is unbelievable). Elevated behind them are other men standing around a fire, some are making noise while others a silent. They have a screen where they have puppets that cast shadows on the wall for the prisoners to see. They also see the shadows of the men and things they carry. This leaves the prisoners to come up with words and names for all these things on their own.  
One day a prisoner got out and stumbled into the outside world. He begins to understand everything, even the sun and it's importance to our existence. Plato's metaphor for the sun is near the end of his The Republic, book VI. He then returns back to the cave to tell the prisoners of what he has learned. They refuse to believe him.
This is my favorite writing by him. It is the perfect example to explain how we perceive reality. It represents a complex model for which we go through our lives and understanding. It is our path to complete awareness. The way in which it was approached gives us a unique look at how reality plays such an important part in our existence. The Matrix comes to mind, eh? The pill is his emergence from the metaphorical cave.

Random observance:
I have worked at various restaurants over the years, including now as I finish college. Why is it that baked potatoes are always more expensive than mashed potatoes or french fries? They clearly take the least amount of work.

On these two things I leave you with my final thoughts of 2010 and prepare for 2011. Tonight I drink wine and read with Joshua on my mind as he has to work this evening. You only have more to look forward to.

Fairy Tales: part 1

When I was little my favorite fairy tale or bedtime story was The Velveteen Rabbit, Beauty and the Beast was a close second. My sister's was Snow White. Everyone has some story from their childhood that they simply adored and couldn't get enough of. But isn't it interesting what our favorite stories mean about the adults we are today or the decisions we made growing up?
If I really think about myself; my insecurities and approach to relationships...the fairy tales I loved so dearly as a child molded the thought process behind my actions as an adult.I will begin with a brief description ad some quotes of The Velveteen Rabbit. The story is simple; a young boy receives a stuffed rabbit for christmas. But unlike most, this is told from the perspective of the rabbit. So the rabbit is given to the young boy, he doesn't know anything outside of the toy room. He knows not of real rabbits. He talks to the skin horse (rocking horse) about what it means to be 'real'.
       "What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender,before nana came to tide the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
       "Real isn't how you're made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a really long time, not just plays with you, but REALLY loves you. That's when you become real."
       "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
       "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are real you don't mind being hurt."
       "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
       "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse, "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to the people who don't understand." 
Then, as time wears on, the boy plays with the rabbit. He plays with him everyday and everywhere. He loves him until he looses his shape, until his ears flop down and his nose ceases to be pink. This reminds me of the shapeless stuffed dog a friend of mine still has to this day. But the rabbit loves the boy and  the boy loves him. One day he is left outside and meets two real rabbits who mock him, they claim he is not real while he adamantly fights that he is.
Soon the boy becomes very ill, with scarlet fever. The boy clings to the rabbit through out his illness, that is until the doctor orders all his toys be destroyed for the might carry germs. So the nurse bagged all his toys and put them in a bag outside to be burned. This deeply saddened both the boy and the rabbit. In fact, this made the rabbit cry. And one single, REAL tear tickled down his cheek and onto the ground.Where the tear landed a flower grew. And form that flower came a fairy. She saw the stuffed rabbit and told him that since he was very loved and real to the boy then he should be loved to the rest of the world. So she made him a real rabbit. [Quite pinocchio-esq, ehh?]

Lovely, right? I had always thought so and I can certainly see how I enjoyed it immensely as a child. It still strikes a chord today. It becomes very obvious to me where me ideas for meaningful relationships emerge, and my issues with emotions and love. I would much rather dive into a relationship and risk utter heart break than to be left wondering. This has created a few issues on my part....recklessness with the heart, and not just mine. Then there's my non-romantic pairings. My friends like Christine or Joshua Berardi. Even now I often wonder how they truly feel towards me, but then again the eating disorder and CNC comes to mind when I consider these insecurities. But could this also explain why I identify with these stories? Do I need validation in order to believe in myself? Could this also explain the distance I have to my family? My analysis seems to pose more questions than answers, per usual.
I suppose the more adult Beauty and the Beast may yield better results on this front.   
This only explains me, however. Perhaps Andrea's love of Snow White explains her issues with authority and following instructions. She does tend to act as Snow White did within the tale, minus running away to live with little people who were also coal miners.

Sheldon Cashdan wrote a book entitled The Witch Must Die all about the hidden meanings of fairy tales, in high school it quickly became a book that was read so frequently it has now fallen apart. I need to buy a new copy, but this book helped shape my views on psychology and our childhood development. I have to wonder where eating disorders come into play within these tales writing paths towards the adult versions of ourselves.
More research is on the way.

Medea

Medea was a figure of myth long before Tyler Perry stole the name for a series of extremely low brow comedies. In fact, I found myself quite annoyed when I went to google to find images for a mythology paper. The first few pages were nothing by images form Tyler Perry movies. Aggravating...
But I digress.

Medea was a play written by Euripides. The story is ever so interesting. In my mythology class I was assigned the play and had to give a presentation.I'm not the best public speaker, but I was fairly effective. Anyway, Medea is most commonly referred to as she exists within that specific play by her name, but she does appear in several other stories. Her major characteristics are that she was a sorceress and lover of Jason (the guy with the golden fleece).
She was the daughter of King Aeetes, granddaughter of Helios (the sun god), and niece of Circe (who was depicted in Odyssey for turning Odysseus's crew into pigs, she is also the mother of the minotaur). As you see she has a colorful lineage.
So Jason appears on her island to capture the golden fleece. Medea falls hopelessly in love with him and agrees to help him on his quests.
Medea creates a potion for Jason that prevents him from being injured by the fire-breathing bulls and then casts an enchantment over the dragon guarding the golden fleece so Jason can get by undetected. Basically...he cheated. When he completes the missions he agrees to take Medea away with him and marry her. As they are leaving the island Medea kills her brother, Apsyrtus, and scatters his body in pieces behind them. This slowed their pursuers down as it is dishonorable to leave the body in such a state.
Once in Jason's home of Iolcus Medea used her trickery to help him reclaim his throne from his uncle Pelias. Using magic tricks she convinced Pelias's daughters to kill him which opened up the place for Jason. Then they fled to Corinth. Shortly after this they were wed and had two children. This is where the story gets more interesting.
So they have been married for awhile, living comfortable in Corinth until Glauce, daughter of King Creon, catches Jason's eye. Jason then runs off with her in order to become next in ling to the throne in Corinth. Then he and the king have Medea cast out. With this betrayal Medea snaps. She devises a plan that results in the death of Glauce and the King, then she kills her own children to punish Jason further. Before she can be punished for her own actions she is rescued by her grandfather and ushered off the Athens where she marries King Aegeus, who we suspect she had been in cahoots with all along. Then they marry and her trail of despair and death continues.   
But I intend to focus more on the play by Euripides.While there is certainly no argument claiming Medea was a good woman who was wrong, you have to take into consideration what Jason did. He first used her in order to complete some tasks and promised her marriage later, getting her to kill her own brother. Then he does marry her and has children with her only to leave her and cast her out later? If there was a douche by any other name...pardon my comparison.
But if we take the fact that she was essentially an evil wizard out of the equation do you feel even the slightest bit of compassion? I certainly did, but once she murdered her children it faded away. And by faded I mean disappeared with the snap of my fingers (assuming I could snap my fingers). Then there's Glauce...pursuing a married man? For shame. This is something I would expect to see on trashy daytime television, though I suppose this behavior had to begin somewhere. But it seems Medea is simply a woman scorned.
Wouldn't you agree? I'm not defending the things she did, but I am saying that I can see where the desire might occur. If Joshua left me for another woman I would be destroyed and livid.
But this is one of the many endlessly entertaining myths I fill my time with studying. Sometimes it helps to identify to them. Echo served as a therapeutic comparison for a short time for myself.

I honestly need to start working on my homework instead of blogging about things I doubt very few people read.

Life updates:
I have resolved to get a tattoo. It will be a chambered nautilus shell, the proportions and measurements found using the golden ratio. Perfect balance. Done in dark brown ink on the inside of my left wrist. I will be going with my darling Christine when she gets her tattoo done. She is getting giraffe spots on the inside of her left wrist as well. Though more to cover up the tattoo she allowed her ex-boyfriend to give her. It is a simple peace sign (I love here but that is horrible cliche...) but something she wishes to forget all the same.


images:
Study for Jason and Medea by John William Waterhouse (top)
Medea by Eugene Delacroix

Dr. Frankenstein; Male Chauvinist?

I read Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley in high school. But I didn't truly appreciate it until my freshmen year of college. I remember reading it in my Humanities class and then having to write a paper analyzing the possible meanings of the story. My professor, as nice as she was, had some very obvious radical feminist views. I used this to my advantage, and this yielded some surprising revelations on my part.
The basic plot synopsis, well...if you haven't read it or aren't even aware of the basic plot then I am quite impressed. I am impressed that you managed to find a rock to live under for so very long that turned out to be extremely effective.

Anyhow, a man named Victor Frankenstein decides to use all his knowledge of science to create a living human from the bones and flesh from the deceased. He wanted this man to be "eight feet in height and proportionally large." Even a normal human of this size would be monster-like. His work was successful, though not in the way he expected.
So let us break this down the way I did in my paper. Victor, who was not a doctor but a student of medicine, wanted to create man. What are his motivations? Does he want to create man in order to eradicate the strain of childbirth on women? Or does he desire to create man in order to eradicate women in general? Note that he is not creating a person for companionship, as we are most used to hearing about men desiring to create a person or robot - with female parts - for their special friend (my brother-in-law comes to mind).
Most would choose to think the former as he did marry and did love women, so he didn't want to eradicate them. And I am not even going to bother entering into the homosexual overtones territory. He was very close friends with a man named Clerval. He loved him very much, in fact. But this was not uncommon then and it certainly isn't uncommon now. She had Percy Shelley and Lord Byron as the perfect models. You know what I mean, bro?
So were his goals admirable? Was he trying to take the burden of continuing human life off the shoulders of his beloved and womankind across the globe? All signs point to yes. The chances of dying during childbirth were incredibly high up until the advancement of modern medicine. But don't start praising his desire to help mankind just yet. "A new species would bless me as it's creator and source, many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me." Now it is a little more clear; he wanted to play god.
So what of the monster? How did things go so awry after he was given life? Cowardice overtook Victor, it is as simple as that. The idea that he managed to create life all on his own scared him in a way he couldn't understand. He was so very excited just moments previous to the forming of new life. Not only was he scared of the monster, he also resented him. He resented him quite a great deal. "How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful! -Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of his muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his shriveled complexion and straight black lips [the face only a mother could love, though I suppose that doesn't apply here]. The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart."
Who is to blame for the poor results? Certainly not this monster, he was happy to be spread out in parts across all sorts of cemeteries. Once the monster was finished Victor was scared and resentful, so he abandoned him. So the monster goes off into the world to find his creator. And has all sorts of wacky adventures. Common misconception: the monster was not a brainless drone who wandered about moaning with his arms stretched out. He was a well-read and thoughtful "human" being. He was quite intelligent actually. But I digress. Victor wanted to play God and was very unsatisfied with the results, and if you follow the bible things seem to repeat themselves. He abandoned the monster, and God kicked the first two humans he created out of paradise. Though, God doesn't exactly abandon them in the way Victor does his monster. He hides from the monster, he runs from him. He is only a monster in the mind of Victor. Though his fears actualize themselves eventually, as they rightfully should.
So, what is the answer to my previously stated question in the title? NO. No, he was not a chauvinist, nor was Shelley trying to make some comment on society. She was just writing a scary story. And the message, if any; was that man could abuse science and technology to create something monstrous, i.e Jurassic Park, Splice, The Fly or The Food of the Gods by H.G. Wells. Maybe, we need to stop reading so much into something so simple and perfect for what it is. I think it is time for me to re-read this delightful story.

On a lighter note, I'm going to pimp out some blogs again, as I tend to. Joshua Berardi, Joshua Beachy, and introducing Sean Cairns. Read them and be amused.

Life updates: Still married and it's going well. Hit the 6 month mark a few weeks ago. It was celebrated with asian food, the traditional celebration for such a milestone. School is going...well. Drawing more naked men than I would ever desire to but next semester looks to be promising. I switched my major to art therapy, not sure if I had blogged about that change yet. Oh well. Next fall I should be moving to Portland, OR to attend Marylhurst University. Exciting!

Guy de Maupassant

I bought a book of stories by de Maupassant at a used book sale nearly a year ago and today sat down and started reading some. I have only read a handful of stories thus far but I have been so enticed and moved that it might be near impossible to fall asleep without this in front of me. I only took a break from reading to talk to Joshua and discuss something I read on a forum earlier. It was more me complaining...people were praising Marquis de Sade; which disgusts me. But I digress.
I started with "The Necklace" which stirred up some feelings. Basically it goes like this; a woman is born into a poor family and marries a man no more wealthy than the way she was raised. The entirety of the marriage she is unhappy and focuses too much on acquiring greater things and going to fancy parties. She gets in invited to a party with her husband and makes him spend all his savings he had saved up for a hunting rifle to go with his friends on a new dress for herself. He does it for her because he loves. Then she borrows a diamond necklace from a friend. After the party she somehow loses it and she and her husband do what they can to find it to no avail. In the end they take out loans and borrow money to buy a duplicate to replace in and send the next 10 years working extremely hard to pay it all back. The woman ends up working herself so much she ages terribly, so much that several friends barely recognize her. When she meets that woman later in life she confesses it all and learn that the necklace wasn't worth more than $500.
It reminded me of my sister, sometimes I feel like she was born into the wrong family with way of doing things and her goals of the finer things. And you find it near impossible to feel bad for the protagonist, her husband you weep a bit for. In the end you feel like perhaps she was punished more than necessary, but it was a lesson she really needed to learn, too bad it was so late in life.
In his story "A Wife's Confession" I felt so very attached to the female character. She was romantic and beautiful but suffocated by a brute of a husband. He seemed to stifle her with his stubbornness. I love the description of him:
"...He created the impression that his mind was full of ready-made views instilled into him by his father and mother, who themselves got them from their ancestors. He never hesitated, but on every subject immediatly made a narrow-minded suggestions without showing any embarrassment and without realizing that there might be other ways of looking at things. One felt that his head was closed up, that no ideas circulated in it, none of those ideas which renew a man's mind and make it sound, like a breath of fresh air passing through an open window to a house."
(it actually reminds me of the joshua I dated in high school....) That might be why I connected with her so much. But Maupassant's way of telling stories is wonderful. I could just go one really. I am looking forward to reading more of his work this evening.

But i should calm down. I entered into an argument about Marquis de Sade. I find him deplorable and his work grotesque. The other though his work was amazing and a wonderful insight into the depths of the human mind. That thought is laughable. Marquis de Sade and his work hold a special place in the history of literature. This place needs to never be ventured into because it is simply filled with stories engrossed in acts of eroticism and rape so revolting that vomiting after reading would be an improvement upon the piece. His pushing of the proverbial envelope in order to get some desperately needed attention should not have been indulged. The idea that this is literature; that this is a great piece of art is insulting to every other book in existence.
But no one needs to hear my rants about him...
I will focus on the good authors, the ones whose word's struck a chord in my chest.

Facebook |: Nabokov's Brood Disappoints

Facebook Rachel Christine DeTrempe Williams: Nabokov's Brood Disappoints
This is my facebook page and today I ended up writing it as a note before I made my way to blogger. Essentially, I'm being a tad lazy.

Severance

I still have a part 3 of the Hellenisitc Era coming, but I'm taking a small detour into literature.

Awhile ago I stumbled across this book called Severance. I was intrigued, very intrigued. It is a collection of short, very short stories by Robert Olen Butler.

There are 62 short stories, all written form the point of view of a person or creature immediatley after being decapitated.

According to this book and several other sources the human had is believed to remain in a state consciousness for one and a half minutes. And in a heightened state of emotion, like that one, people speak at a rate of 160 words per minute. So basic mathematics suggests we would speak or think at least 240 words. So every story is exactly 240 words. Interesting, yes? The people he chose to represent is quite engaging as well. Some are factual and some are fictional and one is his own death, but all the stories and the way they're told encite some panic and leave you feeling oddly invasive.

-Mud, 40,000 BC

-Medusa, 2000 BC

-Marcus Tullius Cicero, 43 BC

-John the Baptist, 30 AD

-Valeria Messalina, 48 D

-Dioscorus, 67 AD

-Paul (Saul of Tarsus), 67 AD
-Matthew, 78 AD

-St. Valentine, 270 AD

-a Dragon, 301 AD

-St. George, 303 AD

-The Lady of the Lake, 470 AD

-Ah Ballam, 803 AD

-Piers Gaveston, 1312 AD

-Gansnacken, 1494 AD

-Thomas More, 1535 AD

-Anne Boleyn, 1536 AD

-Catherine Howard, 1542 AD
-Lady Jane Grey, 1554 AD

-Mary Stuart (Queen of Scots), 1587 AD

-Walter Raleigh, 1618 AD

-Brita Gullsmed, 1675 AD

-Louis XVI, 1793 AD

-Marie Antoinette, 1793 (I feel the AD is unneccessary at this point)

-Marie-Jeanne Becu (Comtesse du Barry), 1793

-Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier, 1794

-Andre Chenier, 1794

-Maximilien Robespierre, 179

-Pierre-Francois Lacenaire, 1836

-Ta Chin, 1838

-Jacob, 1855

-Angry Eyes, 1880

-Chin Chin Chan, 1882

-Dave Rudabaugh, 1886

-Agnes Gwenlan, 1899

-Charles H. Stuart, 1904

-Rokhlel Pogorelsky, 1905

-John Martin, 1921

-Henri Landru, 1922

-Paul Gorguloff, 1932

-Benita Von Berg, 1935

-Nguyen Van Trinh, 1952

-Alwi Shah, 1958

-a Chicken, 1958

-Vera Jayne Palmer, 1967

-Le Van Ky, 1968

-Yukio Mishima, 1979

-Robert Kornbluth, 1984

- Jennifer Hadley, 1989

-Nicole Brown Simpson, 1994

-Mohammed Aziz Najafi, 1996

-Lydia Koenig, 1999

-Claude Messener, 2000

- Lois Kennerly, 2001

-Isioma Owoabi, 2002

-Hanadi Tayseer Jaradat, 2003

-Earl Dagget, 2003

-Maisie Hobbs, 2003
-Robert Durand, 2003

-Tyler Alkins, 2004

-Vasil Bukhalov, 2004

-Robert Olen Butler, 2010

Apparently the author himself can forsee his own death, and thats coming up pretty quickly. Hmm, curious.

These stories are unique and captivating. I was particularly interested in the stories surrounding them women beheaded by their husbands, hundreds of years ago and today. The story of Ta Chin I found incredibly impressive and engrossing. She lived during the early 19th century and was decapitated by order of her husband. She seems so sad, but peaceful despite it all. She talks of her footbinding and how painful and reressing that is. Her last line is "please, before my head cut off my feet".

This post sort of rambles, I just stumbled across something ineresting.
I recommend this book to anyone really. Its unusual and magnetic.