Naive but Learning's Open Salon Blog

The Literary Canon, and the Dangers Involved

Tue, 5 Apr 2011 16:04:50 -0400

Today I had the opportunity to have lunch with Tiphanie Yanique, author of How to Escape from a Leper Colony, a collection of short stories. I took a Caribbean Lit and Theory class last semester in which this was required reading, and the professor arranged for us to meet Tiphanie when she visited campus. Only a few of us were able to show up, but the conversation was no less vibrant because of it.

Instead of focusing only on her stories, as I expected, we branched off into politics and a discussion of the literary canon. As a potential professor (someday, I hope), this point was of particular interest to me. Basically, her opinion is that we need to diversify the canon; expand it from white, male authors. Yet we also need to be aware that in our quest to include female authors, gay authors, and authors of color, we cannot focus solely on those points which make them unique from the canon. These ideas are certainly important, but should not occupy the entire discussion of a literary work. Rather, her opinion is that we acknowledge the impact of gender, race, or what have you, and then move on to make connections with the world and humanity, which normally happens with canon (again, white male authors) works.

What saddens me is that I don't know if I've considered this before. Whenever I take a course which focuses somewhat on women's writing, I think, "What's the feminist viewpoint here?" Reading a book by an author who's not white, it's: "How does race play a role?" It's easiest to look only at the surface of the text. I certainly recognize the deeper elements involved, such as what the author wishes to say about people or a certain place, but many times it takes a backseat. One of the many reasons I love reading and literature is that I am able to take something deeper away from it, and now I fear I have been missing out on something. Maybe I have, or maybe I'm not giving myself (and my observations) enough credit

If I recognize the problem, I can work on mending it. Now that I know I have a tendency to see only the most obvious messages in the text, I hope to catch myself and dig farther into the reading to see what else can be pulled out of it.

And if I ever become a college professor, I'll be sure to remember Tiphanie Yanique's words. I will not become one more person to focus on the most obvious aspects of the author's life; instead, I will delve into their text in a search for truth.

My Goals for the Coming School Year

Fri, 20 Aug 2010 00:08:27 -0400

With the fall semester approaching very quickly (classes start on Wednesday!), I have decided that I need to set some goals for myself. Otherwise I might have a year like the last one; I did fine in school and I was relatively happy, but I felt like I was simply gliding along, not really trying or living up to my full potential (except in my book arts class). So, here goes:

1. Earn a 3.8 GPA for the semester (thus making it on the Dean's List and raising my overall GPA).

2. Practice piano for at least 35 minutes every day.

3. Exercise for at least half an hour four times per week (though more would be awesome). Even in the winter.

4. Get homework done early. None of this "I have a 2-page paper due in two hours and I haven't started" crap. I mean, I can do it, but it is waaay too stressful, and usually not my best work. I will start assignments as soon as I am able instead of procrastinating.

5. Spend less time on facebook. It's too distracting.

6. Make sure to keep reading for fun.

7. Learn to cook food which is both tasty and somewhat healthy.

8. Work on patience--both with others and with myself.

Oh boy. Well, I do love a challenge. Bring it on, I say!

A Cat Who, On Reflection, May Not Be So Crazy After All

Wed, 19 May 2010 00:05:39 -0400

My cat is mental. As I speak, she is alternately sticking her head between my hand and the keyboard and licking the side of my laptop. Normal cats, once positioned comfortably, are content to sit and purr. Kitten (yes, a very original name), on the other hand, never sits still for long, especially if she is being petted.

She's a farm cat, a gift to my younger brother from my grandparents. Every year their cats would have multiple litters of kittens, and one year Alex became particularly attached to one he and my cousins named "Elmo". This, of course, was before we discovered that he was a she. Kitten was the runt of the litter, with an infection in one of her eyes: usually a sure sign that she wouldn't survive very long, and certainly not through a Minnesota winter. We were in need of an outdoor cat anyway, to keep the rodent population down (the other two cats were still indoor cats, before we gave up and let them roam), and she seemed to be the perfect answer. Alex's birthday falls in early December, just before the worst of winter. It was decided that we would nurse her back to health, and put her outside to live in Dad's shop once it got warm.

Grandma informed us that the kids were incorrect when they guessed the sex of the tiny kitten, and the general consensus was that she couldn't be known as "Elmo". Just too weird, having a boy name for a girl cat. We decided to call her "Kitten" for the time being, until we could pick a name that better suited her. As it turns out, through some fluke of years of inbreeding, Kitten is a pretty small cat, so the name fits. The name probably wouldn't seem that weird if our first cat wasn't called "Black Kitty." In our defense, he was named by my sister and myself, at the ages of 1 and 3 years. To us, an accurate description worked quite well for a name. But we seem to have set a disturbing precedent: what will be next: Calico? (although, we could call her Cally . . . that would be kind of cute) Stripy? Orange? A simple "Cat"?

For the first few years, Kitten was deathly afraid to go outside. Socks, the first cat we adopted after Kitty died, was more than happy to take care of the pests, however. Not quite what we had envisioned, but the system worked. Kitten will go outside now, but is still easily frightened (part of her slight insanity--or perhaps it's a survival instinct, due to her size and past as a farm cat.)

I guess the weird thing is that she just doesn't act like a normal cat--or like Kitty, who acted like a dog. She's not aloof, but actively seeks out attention. She's very easily startled, and though this is true with all our cats (especially Jinx), her reactions seem to be more intense. It probably doesn't help that I once accidently slammed her in my bedroom door. She seemed a bit more twitchy around me after that (but no more than with anyone else, today), and still will not go through doors if someone has their hand on the knob or handle. And she licks weird things--like my laptop. Mom thinks she likes the salt from my hands, which I guess makes sense, but I've never seen a cat do such a thing before.

Now that I've written it all out, maybe she's not such an odd cat after all. Sure, she has her quirks, but that's what's fun about cats: they all have their own personalities, just like we do.

She also blends in quite well with some blankets, though no one has sat on her (yet).

Fiction Friday--The Tale of the Ladybug

Fri, 23 Apr 2010 12:04:30 -0400

In one of my classes, Art of the Printed Book, we recently had a collaborative book project. Each student came up with a fable or parable (written by themselves or someone else), and we used photopolymer sheets for printing. It's a complicated process that I'd rather not explain here, but to be brief, it's another way to print on old-fashioned presses, without using lead type. One aim of the project was to study a 19th or 20th century book artist, and use some aspect of their work in the design of our own pages. We each had four pages at our disposal, and the finished product (a book of everyone's work) is absolutely amazing in its creativity. I decided to go ahead and write my own tale, though I very rarely write anything that's not non-fiction or in response to an essay prompt. I also illustrated it myself, using Eric Gill's work as my inspiration. I'm not sure how to include illustrations here, but I hope you enjoy the story!

The Tale of the Ladybug

Timmy felt the prick of small legs crawling on his hand. He screamed and flailed, tossing the tiny ladybug into the air. Timmy’s grandpa laughed kindly. “There’s no reason to be afraid of ladybugs. They’re a farmer’s best friend, after all.” Pulling Timmy onto his lap, he said, “Let me tell you a story.”

“A long time ago, before my father was born, and before his father was born, a ladybug lived in a forest, high in the mountains. Her name was Nellie, and one day she decided that she would like to see more of the world. So she packed up her bags, said good-bye to her family and friends, and headed off to discover the lands beyond the woods.

“Nellie flew for days, crossing over lakes, plains, rivers, and forests. As the land turned the golden color of ripe wheat beneath her, she noticed a thunderstorm moving quickly from the west. She knew that to avoid being thrown to earth by the rain, she had to find safety—fast! She scanned the ground below her, looking for something—anything—that she could take refuge under. Coming upon an animal that looked like her neighbors from the mountains, she called out, ‘Cousin, please help me! I will perish if the storm overtakes me!’ The goat—for that is what he was—replied, ‘The creatures who feed me and walk on two legs have built a shelter out of dead trees. I’ll take you there, and no harm shall come to you.’

“Thanking the goat, Nellie followed him into a log building half-filled with dried hay, barely making it inside the doors before the storm hit. Nellie and the goat chatted for hours while the storm raged outside, until it was time for the goat to be fed. The farmer walked in with his head hanging low. With a sigh, he began to talk to the goat, ‘Another crop may be ruined. Not from the storm; the rain is welcome. The aphids, however, are devouring all that I have planted. If I don’t get rid of them, I am ruined.’ Just then, he glanced up and saw Nellie. ‘Well, what have we here?’ he asked. ‘You certainly aren’t one of those devilish pests.’ She replied, ‘Sir, I call myself a ladybug, and to thank you for the shelter your structure has given me, I would gladly rid your farm of the harmful insects.’ The farmer was overjoyed when he heard this, and gratefully accepted her offer.

“As soon as the storm was over, Nellie set to work chasing away all the aphids from the fields. Ever since that day, ladybugs have lived in harmony with those who work the land. “So, Timmy, always remember the importance of working together. Without the farmer, Nellie would have been blown away by the wind; without ladybugs, our fields would be stripped bare. Instead of being afraid, give them shelter and thank them for their kindness.”

10 Books That Have Influenced Me

Tue, 30 Mar 2010 15:03:56 -0400

I don't have class today (by some miracle), so I can finally get around to writing this post. I'm only a little late . . .

Ever since I discovered that letters could combine to make words, I've been a voracious reader. Every book I read has some impact on me, but here is a list of 10 books or short stories that have stuck with me, in no particular order:

1. 1984, by George Orwell. I first read this, oh, probably the summer before 9th grade. 2004ish. I was struck by the connections I could draw between the Big Brother system and the world I knew, and it scared me a little bit. It was then that I realized the importance of freedom--freedom of speech, thought, press, and so on. I've held these views ever since, arguing against censorship in schools and libraries. I re-read it every so often, and each time I find something new.

2. A Walk in the Woods, by Bill Bryson. I love this book. Bryson is hilarious, first of all, and it it spurred me to want to walk the Appalachain Trail. He also intersperses his story with information of climate change, in such a way that it was probably the first time I really understood its impact. I've read this one a couple times, as well, and this summer finally visited the Smokey Mountains (my avatar is a picture of this) and hiked a tiny bit of the Trail.

3. Go, Dog, Go!, by P.D. Eastman. Ok, this one is one here simply because it's the first book I learned to read by myself. And what greater influence is there than that?

4. The American Girl Doll Series', by various authors. I read the books about Molly, Felicity, Josephina, Sam, Addy . . . and I know there was at least one more but I can't remember who . . . when I was in elementary school. Over and over again. They spurred my love for American history, giving me a glimpse into all there was to discover about the past, what we could learn from them, and the parallels between eras.

5. "The Lottery", by Shirley Jackson. This was assigned reading in 9th grade, and I was absolutely horrified by it. Still am. It was probably the first inkling I had that tradition is not always right, or that tradition should not continue simply for the sake of tradition. It continues to remind me that we cannot follow blindly, but must think about what we do and use our God-given reason to make choices.

6. "The Tell-Tale Heart", by Edgar Allan Poe. We had a unit on Poe's works in my 7th grade English class, and at the time I cared very little for the darkness they exhibit. This story has always stayed in my mind, though, and I came back to it in high school. I fell in love with the way Poe writes, and discovered that I kind of liked the darkness--it was so different from most books and stories I had read up to that point.

7. The Sparrow, by Maria Doria Russell. I read this last year for an introductory English class, and it quickly became a book I couldn't put down. Not only is it part of one of my favorite genres (science fiction), it also dealt with religion, specifically Catholicism. It's a good reminder that things are not always as they seem, though eventually the whole truth will be revealed.

8 & 9. The Iliad and The Odyssey, by Homer. I read excerpts (note: most of the poem except for the parts deemed boring or repetitive by my professor) last year, and they've served as a jumping-off point for my interest in ancient Greek and Roman culture. I've always been interested in the ancient world, but it was these texts that reminded me why. It's a world I can hardly comprehend, but I would love to delve into it and discover all I can about the people who lived so long ago. Partly because of my experience reading these epic poems, I'd like to contine my studies in ancient Greek/Roman studies after my bachelor's degree--maybe this means a master's in it, maybe it just means studying on my own and visiting those countries. Only time will tell.

10. Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi. Some people will argue that graphic novels are not books, but merely large comic books. I disagree. I see graphic novels as a combination, but ultimately they are literature. The reader is asked to interpret images just as they normally do with words, and the image and text can work together to create a message. Since Satrapi's work was my first experience with graphic novels, it has especially stuck with me. It is a beautiful account of her childhood in Iran, and shows with remarkable clarity the experience of growing up. Considering I'm still in those phases (reading it my senior year of high school and again last year, my freshman year in college), I loved how spot-on she could be. Granted, we are separated by time, space, and culture, but some truths transcend all that.