Hermaphroditical Italian Pictures

As of this point, I am enjoying Walker Percy’s The Moviegoer more than I have enjoyed any other novel we have read this year. I admit that I am not quite as far into it as I should be, but what I have read is very interesting. The main character, Bolling, is remarkably compelling and believable. He strikes me as an almost “unfulfilled genius” type. Towards the beginning, I remember a line in which he was discussing his options when he was younger. He had the potential to become one of the great minds of his era, yet he settled for stockbroking. His remarkably detailed observations about the world around him reek of intelligence, yet there is something so unfulfilled about it. I look forward to learning more about why Bolling is the way he is.

I really enjoyed Hamlet when we read it in class. The manner in which the play was presented seemed to come as close as possible to the actual manner in which the work was meant to be viewed. Naturally, I assumed that Ronsencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead would be as enjoyable if not more so. I am disappointed. This has absolutely nothing to do with the play itself. In fact, I find its odd blend of slapstick and weighty theme fascinating. No, what I dislike about is the method of presentation. It is sucking the funny out of the play. The wonderful ability of an actor is his ability to cease being himself. We are decidedly not actors. When reading through a play like Hamlet, this does not matter too much since so much of what makes it wonderful is its complex plot and eloquent language. With Rosencrantz and Guildenstern however, it is the uniqueness of the characters themselves that drives the play. Somehow, we are losing that. Having read about half of the play over the physics trip, I can decidedly state that I find it far more thought provoking as well as laugh-out-loud funny when I read it myself. Today in class the difference between a novel and play was mentioned. It was said that we could not use the two terms interchangeably. Well, we cant treat our readings of them interchangeably either.

For this assignment I randomly chose “Coffin Path Poem” by Helen Farish. Before the actual poem, Farish indicated that she used to live in a cottage by a coffin path near a cemetery. It was this that caused her to write the piece.

In the work, she speaks very openly of her own death. In her “twilight”, she will suddenly realize how wonderful her life has been. This is clear by her analogy with the day. At dusk, she rushes out of her house to walk and wonder about what a wonderful day it has been. When she is close to death, the same will occur for her life. She will find wonder in how amazing it has been.

Well, this is a breath of fresh air. Our entire year in AP lit has been composed of older works that are undeniably wonderful to read in their own ways; however, they can be rather arduous. Shakespeare, Conrad, Melville and Austin are all rather dense writers. You actually have to work to figure out what is going on when you read them. Once again, I am not saying this like it is a bad thing; however, it is nice to be able to read a book in our modern ‘plain English.’

I have really enjoyed Hamlet. For one, its tragic nature means that it lacks the near goofy quality of comedies like Twelfth Night. Except for the rather outrageous ending, the play is almost believable. The characters seem mufti-dimensional and even somewhat relatable. Since this is pretty much a random stream of thoughts I am going to drop that point and raise yet another. I don’t get the whole feigning madness concept. This, to me, does not seem in any way vital to Hamlet’s revenge. Why would he do it? Perhaps he is driven slightly mad by his rage at his uncle, but he does seem to be somewhat in control of his actions. Maybe he just likes screwing with people.

Well, I chose Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness for two reasons. The first is that the novel is noted for being a good but short read. The second reason makes less sense. My father has a massive book collection that he has been assembling since the early 70′s. Many of the books are simply enjoyable reads, but a few are first edition, collectable novels. One of these is his edition of Heart of Darkness. Let me just say that it is the epitome of a beautifiul book. The pages have that wonderful yellow quality found in older books. The binding has an intricate pattern reminiscent of the skin of some exotic snake. Whenever I see it, I am always struck by it, and find that I really want to read it. So, I guess I am judging the book by its cover.

Usually, when reading the “great works of literature”, I attempt to keep an open mind throughout the entire experience. Even if I am disliking the read, I still hold out hope for what’s to come. After all, they call these works great for some reason. I say this so that the full significance of my next statement is abundantly clear. I cannot stand this book. For all intensive purposes, it is a novel about gossip. This does not and never will make for an interesting read. I do not care about the non-existent problems of the rich English in the early 1800′s. Even the fact that the novel is partially about how good their lives are annoys me. This was a period in time when British colonialism was screwing up the rest of the world, simply so the Brits could reap the profits. The fact that the characters in the novel seem oblivious to this just makes me hate them more.

There goes another Shakespeare work. I don’t know how many that is now but it is quite a few. I have to say I rather enjoyed 12th night more than I have enjoyed other Shakespearian plays in the past. Perhaps this was merely due to my increased comprehension level. I don’t really know. The only thing that really bugged me about it was the sappy predictable nature of the story. In the past I have felt that Shakespeare’s plots have always been slightly predictable; however, this one took the cake. The only interesting aspect was the torture of Malvolio. I guess I like the tragedies.

Well here I am already starting Shakespear. I have to say it is making me miss Moby-Dick more than I initially anticipated. Though I enjoy Shakespear and can apreciate the  beaty of his writing, i find that it lacks the detail that made Moby-Dick so special. The Bard seems to make these near outrageous jumps in story the story just to advance the plot. I realize that this is necesary for the play to move forward; however, it makes it all seem a little far fetched. I am looking forward towards watching the plot unfold though.