Monday, August 25, 2014

Monsters Make Bad People




Well folks, this is the last update until I am otherwise notified.  I’ve had a good summer with you all, and I hope that you did, too.  Anyway, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?

So, on to the third chapter of Thomas C. Foster’s “How to Read Literature Like a Professor”. In this chapter we discuss monsters, particularly, vampires.  In the third chapter, which is cleverly titled “Nice to Eat You: Acts of Vampires”, Foster explains how monsters are the illusion to the bigger picture within literature. In many ways they portray the worst of people, only back then it was voodoo to even mention anything relating to the birds and the bees, alcoholism, you name it. So, monsters were used in place of people in classic literature, acting as symbols, to perform acts of communion.  Yes, there are more ways than one to portray acts of communion.  Like in the last chapter, which described how some authors use food for imagery, this chapter deals with the use of monsters.   

And so, the reader is introduced to something mysterious, something new.  Eye candy within literature.  In this chapter, we learned about attractive, older men that seduce younger women and ditch them later.  Or, as Foster points out, the “vampires” classic novels. You get the idea.

And there’s more than just vampires. Foster points out these “monsters” performing various acts of communion in the following works: “Dracula” by Bram Stakes, “Interview with the Vampire” by Anne Rice, “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens, “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde ”by Robert Louis Stevenson, “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry Jones and his other novel, “Daisy Miller”, “The Metamorphosis” and “A Hunger Artist” by Franz Kafka, “Innocent Erindira” by Garcia Marquez, “The Fox” and “Women in Love” by DH Lawrence and, finally, “A Severed Head” and “The Unicorn” by Iris Murdoch.

So, vampire and monster interpretations are found in all sorts of literature to portray acts of communion that lead to the destruction of themselves and others.  Since using monsters to portray sinful characters was so popular in English literature, today’s authors – especially in pop culture – like to create their own characters as monsters.

My personal favorite monster genre, heavily featured in the twenty-first century through books, movies, comics and video games, is zombies, a mythological undead corpse from Haitian folklore.  Zombies can be interpreted in so many ways. You could compare zombies to people who are absorbed by technology and lack sleep, carrying on sluggishly on minimal rest from the previous night.  Zombies can be interpreted as the newer generation losing itself to technological advances, only to lead themselves to destruction and return to the stone age.  Zombies can also be somewhat similar to ghosts, symbolizing the loss of a loved one and haunting said person.  That person can also be led to their own demise and can dragged down after suffering the loss of a person close to them.  For example, there are characters haunted and/or brought down by the dead in AMC’s “The Walking Dead,” based off the comics by Robert Kirkman.  To name a few, (SPOILER) Andrea loses her sister Amy to a zombie mob, or “walkers”, and Daryl Dixon suffered from the loss of his brother, Merle (notice how both characters had a close connection with their lost one). 


Andrea saying goodbye to her sister Amy

Daryl Dixon putting down his brother Merle


In summary, acts of communion can be portrayed in many ways from food, to vampires, to zombies, and more.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Food and Drinks Make Everything Better



Hello again! Today I'll be reviewing the second chapter of Thomas C. Foster's guide on "How to Read Literature like a Professor". In this section of the novel cleverly titled "Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion," Foster explains how characters in literature work their ulterior motives through well planned events-namely luncheons and dinner parties; rather than a simple get-together to lighten the mood.

Foster begins to tell the reader that things are just what they are. Cigars are cigars (Sigmund Freud). Food is food, meals are meals, et cetera. And he's right, that's all they are. So why does an author write a scene about characters smoking at a joint, or eating food, or refusing to eat food? Because there is something else happening within that moment than meets the eye. It could be friends befriending enemies, or strangers. It could be that someone is plotting to reveal a secret over dinner. Or maybe it's a simple act performed by two friends as a way to tell the reader, "I'm friends with this person, we're close, this is normal for us." Whether the scene provides a positive, negative, or neutral outcome, these are all "acts of communion," as Foster puts it. There is always an ulterior motive behind such events, just as there are hints of foreshadowing in elaborate descriptions within literature. Foster points out these types of allusion in "Tom Jones" (Henry Fielding, 1749), and "Cathedral" (Raymond Carver, 1981).

It's actually quite easy to spot acts of communion in literature, especially in a meal scene within a novel. After all, what better way to break the ice than doing it over supper time? Anyway, I believe that watching movie based off a book without actually reading the book is cheating, okay? So before watching BFF's Toby Maguire and Leonardo DiCaprio portray Nick Carraway and Jay Gatsby, I borrowed my mom's copy of "The Great Gatsby" and read it first.

(Spoiler alert for "The Great Gatsby": read on or skip ahead to the next paragraph. You have been forewarned. Thank you, and have a nice day.)

Actual Proof That I Own The Novel


So, towards the end of the book, Gatsby is prepared to announce his love to Daisy Buchanan and expects her to tell her current husband, Tom Buchanan, that she never loved him for the five years they have been married, and has always loved her first love, Gatsby. However, despite her love for Gatsby, and her knowledge of her husband's affair with another woman, Daisy still loves her husband, and is torn between the two of them. She secretly wishes to keep her recent affair with Gatsby a secret. Meanwhile, Tom's ready to call out Gatsby for selling bootlegged alcohol in drugstores (remember, this is the US in the 20's, way to go, flappers) and accuses him of not being of blue blood/pure blood/born into money, as the Buchanan's friends Jordan and Nick look on and act as the supportive friend and the third wheel.

And so, here they are, all together at the Buchanan's estate for a luncheon, to get better acquainted with one another, or something along those lines. The room is described as hot and humid, too hot for a summer's day in New York, and the adults are taking in nervous and/or greedy gulps of whiskey. Are they just having a normal luncheon? No. Gatsby's ready to tell the world of his undying love for Daisy, Daisy's a nervous wreck trying to avoid conflict with Gatsby and Tom, Tom's about to hand Gatsby his "a-hem" and level on with Daisy on their affairs with other people, while bemused Jordan and a poor Nick are there to be innocent bystanders of "a-hem" hitting the fan. (Source: see chapter 7 of F. Scott Fitzgerald's, "The Great Gatsby). Things get pretty heated from there.

Actual Leonardo DiCaprio


And that, my friends, is another example of an act of communion. Until next time, take care.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Every Trip is a Journey (Unless it's an Errand)



This summer I have been assigned to read a book for my AP English Literature class, which includes taking three out of thirteen reflective journal entries and turning them into a blog post. This will help me “read like a professor,” as Thomas C. Foster puts it, and guide me through my advanced English class.

This month I have been assigned to make one blog post featuring a reflection upon a chapter from Thomas C. Faster’s “How to Read Literature like a Professor,” a nice little guideline book that any high school student should have handy. I have chosen to start off with the first chapter for analysis, since it might be a good idea to ruminate over the first chapter of any novel. 

My "Quest"


So, in “Every Trip is a Quest (Except When it’s Not),” Foster gives us a hypothetical plot line and beginning which he uses as an example for finding the main characters, including the protagonist and their nemesis, a possible love interest, setting, plot, etc., although the reader should be able to identify the basic story set-up for themselves (I believe that would be what Foster was hoping for). In other words, each novel consists of a protagonist, a setting, a motivation, and the obstacles provided in the characters’ journey of development, or quest of getting from Point A to Point B.

For example, in one of my favorite mangas, Fruits Basket, the main character, an orphan named Tohru Honda, is taken in by the Sohma family, who are cursed to turn into the animals of the Chinese zodiac whenever stressed or hugged by the opposite sex. Originally planning to graduate high school as her late mother wished, Tohru takes on the extra responsibility to free the Sohma family from the curse, and saves them with the power of love and kindness. Having read this wonderful series, I now can see that this was the quest that challenged the protagonist (Tohru) in that series of novels.


The Sohma Family Cursed
Sohma Family Freed from the Curse

 According to Foster, the purpose for each quest is to provide character development, or for the character(s) in the quest to acquire self-knowledge. Foster mentions several novels referencing this process: Crying of Lot 49 (Thomas Pynchon, 1965), Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (N/A late century), and Faerie Queen (Edmund Spenser, 1596). But his main point is that no matter how odd the book may be, if it meets the professor’s requirements of a well-structured novel, they would recommend the novel to the student, in most cases, to challenge the student to recognize the structure as well.

Foster also warns that sometimes a trip is not a quest, and new writers are always coming up with ways to change, update, or twist around the quest, so that it’s different from anything anyone may have imagined, or read before. No matter how big or small, typical or strange, familiar or unfamiliar, the quest seems, Foster wants the reader to discover the development of the character through their quest, and analyze how the quest provided self-knowledge and growth for the character in one way or another. After reflecting on all these aspects of the novel, it will become more readable, understandable and applicable, to the reader themselves.