English 275

13 October 2016

Explication of “To Autumn” by John Keats

The poem “To Autumn” by John Keats is an ode to Autumn. The primary themes are appreciating the warmth and serenity of autumn, and embracing the change autumn obliges, as opposed to acknowledging autumn as a season of ending or death. In this way, the speaker of “To Autumn” is challenging these traditional symbols of autumn, which have negative connotations, and replacing those symbols with hope and beauty. The speaker uses all five senses to explore the often unappreciated moments of autumn’s beauty, such as the sound of the “full-grown lambs loud bleat” (Line 30) and the taste of the “last oozings” (22) of the cider press.

The speaker of “To Autumn” uses figures of speech in his demonstration of autumn’s beauty. A prominent figure of speech used is personification; specifically, the personification of autumn. Each stanza is filled to the brim with characteristics of autumn, similarly to the way the “o’er-brimmed… clammy cells” (11) of the beehives are dripping with honey. Autumn is described as a “Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; / Conspiring with him how to load and bless / With fruit the vines…” (2-4). Here, autumn is described as best friends with the sun, helping the sun ripen the fruit vines. Another example of autumn being personified is in the second stanza, when autumn is described as “…sitting carelessly on a granary floor, / Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind,” (12-13). The speaker is exploring the idea of autumn as a person, and demonstrating the soft, warm characteristics it would have.

The language used when describing autumn is soft and warm. The opening line, for example, describes autumn as the “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” (1). The word “fruitfulness” gives the reader an image of a sweet, ripened harvest; it has finally come when we can reap the productivity of summer and autumn’s friendship. The word “mellow,” while meaning soft and sweet and often used to describe fruit, is also slang for an intimate friend or lover. The reader is introduced to autumn as soft, warm, and friendly, and this image is repeated throughout the poem. In the second stanza, the speaker describes autumn as “Drowsed with the fume of poppies…” (17), which appeals to the reader’s sense of sight and smell. Here, autumn is enveloped by warm color, illuminating its beauty with the pleasant scent of poppies. In the third stanza, the intermittent clouds “touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue” (26), referring back to the warmth and beauty of autumn. While traditional symbols of autumn include death, desolation, and preparing for a bitter cold, the speaker in “To Autumn” challenges those symbols by demonstrating the warmth and friendliness of autumn.

“To Autumn” has the form of an ode, as established by its elevated style, meditative nature, and formal structure. The poem’s meter is generally iambic pentameter, with a formal end rhyme structure of abab cdedcce for the first stanza, and abab cdecdde for the final two stanzas. This structure supports the formality and elevated style of an ode, and the beauty of the formal structure reflects the beauty of the formality of change during autumn. Throughout the poem, assonance is used as aural patterning, with the open vowel sounds setting a tone of openness. Several examples of the assonance in “To Autumn” are the lines “Steady thy laden head…” (20), “…as the light wind lives or dies;” (31), and “…touch the stubble-plains…” (26). The speaker uses this sound device to set a tone of open friendliness to the reader.

“To Autumn” is written in three stanzas, with each stanza being sectioned off by roman numerals. Because of this, it is clear that each stanza demonstrates its own lyrical theme. The first stanza discusses autumn’s relationship with summer, such as the “fruit with ripeness” (6), and “later flowers” for the bees (9). The second stanza speaks directly of the change of autumn; of “half-reaped furrow[s]” (16), and the way its “hook / Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:” (17-18). Finally, the third stanza is where the poem turns. It begins with a rhetorical question: “Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?” (23). The cheerful energy of spring and summer must end; it is the fate of nature. The speaker struggles with this fate; however, the next line proclaims, “Think not of them, thou hast thy music too—” (24). While the energy of summer is mourned by all creatures, even the “small gnats” (27), there is still beauty to be found in the warmth of autumn. As a final effort to demonstrate this beauty, the poem ends with the sounds of autumn:

And full-grown lambs bleat from hilly bourn;

Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft

The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;

And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. (30-34)

In this serene moment of autumn, the speaker describes not scenes of desolation and bitterness; instead, they are sounds and sights of gentle life. While the lambs are “full-grown” (30), their bleating is the same as it would be in the spring.

The themes in the ode “To Autumn” are the warmth and beauty of autumn, and embracing those characteristics as opposed to the traditional autumnal symbols of desolation and death. This poem is beautiful in its imagery, and simplistic in its language. It uses several poetic elements and devices, such as personification and assonance to demonstrate autumn’s beauty in the most poignant way. It has an elevated style of three stanzas with the turn being in the third stanza, and has formal end rhyming structure spoken in iambic pentameter. The quiet scenes describing autumn are soft and warm, and convey a sense of hope, in contrast to traditional symbols of death. “To Autumn” demonstrates the beauty of autumn, which is a beauty formerly often overlooked.

Works Cited

Keats, John. “To Autumn.” The Norton Introduction to Literature, edited by Kelly J. Mays, Norton, 

2014, pp. 695-696.

Explication of “Persimmons” by Li-Young Lee [Poetry]

English 275

8 October 2016

Explication of “Persimmons” by Li-Young Lee 

The poem “Persimmons” by Li-Young Lee has themes of struggling with understanding a new language and culture, as well as the depth and beauty of human life. In addition to understanding a new culture, “Persimmons” also discusses understanding, and at times losing, one’s native culture, especially in the context of a child trying to blend into a new school. The poem begins with the speaker’s struggle with the English language, and grappling with a new language is a recurring idea throughout. Another recurring idea in “Persimmons” is the persimmons themselves. The persimmons are a symbol of many things regarding the depth of human capacity, including the speaker’s difficulty in learning English, the understanding of his own culture, the hope and optimism of his mother, the weight of hardships in life, and the beauty of human emotion.

     The speaker uses elements of the English language to express the linguistic aspects of English that confuse him. For example, when speaking about two words that he mixes up—“wren” and “yarn”—he says:

Wrens are small, plain birds,

yarn is what one knits with.

Wrens are soft as yarn.

My mother made birds out of yarn. (Lines 34-37)

In this way, the speaker is demonstrating how he has struggled with the English language. The words “wren” and “yarn” are phonetically similar, but have two different definitions. This element of language is difficult for him, because his mother makes wrens out of yarn, confusing the fact that a wren and yarn are two different things. The speaker is showing why the English language is difficult for him, in order to support to theme of the struggle of understanding a new language.

     “Persimmons” also deals with further understanding, and losing, one’s native language and culture. In the second stanza, the speaker is teaching his girlfriend Chinese. Translating words that describe their night, he says, “Crickets: chiu chiu. Dew: I’ve forgotten. / Naked: I’ve forgotten” (23-24). There are words in Chinese he can no longer speak, because they have slipped his mind during his acquisition of English, which demonstrates the loss of a native language. However, there are aspects of his culture that he desires to preserve and understand. For example, when the speaker’s sixth grade teacher brings a persimmon to class so her students can have a taste of “a Chinese apple” (43), the speaker does not eat it. He says, “Knowing / it wasn’t ripe or sweet, I didn’t eat / but watched the other faces” (43-45). His instructor is teaching his culture, but she is incorrect about when persimmons are ripe to eat, and only the speaker knows it. This also seems to be a challenging reference to the opening of the poem, when the speaker’s teacher chastises him for “not knowing the difference / between persimmon and precision” (4-5). As a child, the speaker is intelligent enough to understand the difference of cultures, but is chastised because he confuses words.

Figure of speech is prominent in “Persimmons.” When the speaker is with his girlfriend Donna, he uses a simile by saying, “I part her legs, / remember to tell her / she is beautiful as the moon” (26-28). The context of this type of language seems to suggest that the speaker relies on figures of speech—an element of language he is able to truly understand—in order to cope with significant life experiences. Later, he remembers his mother using a metaphor, and he says “every persimmon has a sun / inside, something golden, glowing, / warm as my face” (46-48). This example supports the speaker’s reliance on figures of speech, because he repeats his mother’s metaphor of persimmons having suns inside them. This short stanza is one of two important mentions of his mother, which could imply his mother played a significant role in his life. When speaking of his mother, he uses the past tense, in contrast to the present tense he uses with his father. This could mean his mother passed away, and the speaker yet again returns to figures of speech to understand the depth of human capacity.

There is also personification in “Persimmons.” When the speaker is with his father in his parents’ cellar, his language comes to life. He speaks of a cardinal singing “The sun, the sun” (53) near his bedroom windowsill, perhaps referring back to his mother’s metaphor about the sun being in every persimmon, as well as personifying the cardinal by saying it is singing human language. To his father who is going blind, the speaker says, “I gave him the persimmons, / swelled, heavy as sadness, / and sweet as love” (58-60). Here, he is personifying the persimmons, allowing them to swell with sadness, and be as sweet as love, two human emotions of significant depth. He also personifies his parents’ cellar stairs, when he says, “My father sits on the tired, wooden stairs” (64). This could also be referring to his tired father, who his losing his eyesight as he ages.

The poetic form of “Persimmons” is free verse. With stanzas of varying lengths and compositional weight, the lack of fixed metrical pattern does not seem to play a significant role in the poem. In “Persimmons,” there are multiple settings or situations. For example, there is a scene of the speaker in his sixth grade classroom with his teacher, in the yard undressing with his girlfriend Donna, and two separate times in his life when he is in his parents’ cellar. These multiple settings are connected through the speaker’s need for “precision” (5, 82) in language in every scene. In his classroom, he must be precise in getting the words correctly; in the yard with Donna, he needs to be precise in remembering his native language; in the cellar, he must be precise when communicating with his father, who reminds his son of the beauty and importance of life:

Some things never leave a person:

scent of the hair of one you love;

the texture of persimmons,

in your palm, the ripe weight. (85-88)

In this final scene, the speaker’s father is relaying his personal experience of going blind, which could be referring to the physical things one forgets when he can no longer see them. However, there are certain important and beautiful things one can never forget, referring to love between two people, and the “ripe weight” (88) of persimmons, or human life.

     “Persimmons” discusses themes of understanding a new and native language, as well as the depth and beauty of human life. The speaker demonstrates scenes throughout his life in which he grappled with understanding his native language and the English language, as well as significant life experiences where he used figurative language—such as simile and metaphor—to comprehend the depth and beauty of human life. Overall, this poem is rich in metaphors and ideas. I was moved by this poem, because it discusses the great and intimate human experiences in a simple, yet abstract way. The speaker takes personal life experiences, and analyzes them so that he can understand the deeper meaning underlying them. I enjoyed explicating this poem, and will continue to read it so as to find deeper meaning with each additional read.

Works Cited

Lee, Li-Young. “Persimmons.” The Norton Introduction to Literature, edited by Kelly J. Mays, 
Norton, 2014, pp. 513-514.

The Complexity of Marriage in “Shiloh” [Fiction]

English 275

22 September 2016

The Complexity of Marriage in “Shiloh”

Bobbi Ann Mason’s short story “Shiloh” deals with the complexity of human life and emotion through the lens of a middle-aged man experiencing great marital strife. Though the plot is not complex, the characters are. “Shiloh” follows a couple who, throughout their lives, have never understood each other. Their marriage lacks empathy, effort, and communication, which causes underlying problems between them. The intricate characters and symbols of tragedy in “Shiloh” support the themes of the difficulty of a troubled marriage, and the complexity and misunderstandings a fundamentally flawed relationship can have.

The protagonist Leroy and his wife Norma Jean are both complex individuals who lack an empathy for each other. Narrated in third-person limited, “Shiloh” spends a significant time on characterization, and the major characters inform the story more than the plot does. Leroy and Norma Jean are both round characters, with psychological complexities, various motives, and individual goals. Leroy aspires to build a log cabin for his wife, which is a symbol for Leroy’s newfound desire to give his wife a home she never had. However, throughout their entire marriage he was focused only his job, and he now does not understand why his wife is not welcoming him home as he thought she would. Throughout their marriage, Leroy has never tried to understand Norma Jean, nor her desire to move on from him and find her own purpose.

Norma Jean is trying to figure out her role in life, and takes up many hobbies such as music, cooking, and weightlifting. She also enrolls in a local community college studying English, to which Leroy comments, “‘What are you doing this for, anyhow?’” (Mason 368), not understanding her desire to grow as a person. After this, Norma Jean is frustrated with Leroy and the way he does not understand her nature. In turn, she does not understand why he lived their whole marriage without wanting to truly know her. Not wanting to disregard her lifetime of being neglected by Leroy, Norma Jean does not want to accept his new—and seemingly too late—efforts of being a good husband. Later in the story, Norma Jean says, “…you won’t leave me alone” (Mason 371). Both Leroy and Norma Jean are complex characters, and have become elusive to each other. This brings great complexity into the root of their marriage, causing issues that are difficult for them to overcome; the main issue being that Leroy and Norma Jean do not understand each other.

The reason Leroy and Norma Jean have this misunderstanding is because they have spent no effort in truly getting to know each other. Leroy, a former trucker, comes home to a wife he no longer recognizes, and perhaps had forgotten many times throughout the years. The narrator writes that early on in their relationship, “Leroy remembers Norma Jean catatonically beside him in the hospital and himself thinking: Who is this strange girl? He had forgotten who she was” (Mason 363). In the present day, Leroy does not know his wife any better than he did in the hospital. Sitting at home, “[Leroy] sees things about Norma Jean that he never realized before” (Mason 365). In all their years of marriage, Leroy never took the time to get to know his wife. Consequently, Norma Jean never got to know her husband, either. They both lived separate lives, and are now forced to reunite at a time when they understand each other least. This significant misunderstanding is the root of their marital issues, and supports the themes of the difficulty and complexity of marriage.

Because of Leroy and Norma Jean’s misunderstanding of each other, they are not able to cope together with significant life experiences. This lack of unity pushes them further from each other, harming their already troubled marriage. For example, their infant son Randy dies unexpectedly when they are both eighteen. His death is a symbol which informs the theme of the difficulty of marriage, because this event further pushes them away. At the climax of the story, when Norma Jean tells Leroy that she is leaving him, she says, “I feel eighteen again. I can’t face that all over again” (Mason 371). Norma Jean is implying that she cannot relive the isolation in her marriage she experienced once before. Leroy and Norma Jean were married when their child died, but they experienced their grief independently, without support from each other. This isolation drove them further away from each other, showing that from the start of their marriage they were not united. Even decades after the death of their son, they cannot communicate their grief in order to cope together. Their marriage is troubled to the core, because of their misunderstanding with each other, and their isolation in dealing with the complexity of significant life experiences such as loss and grief.

Years of damage from misunderstanding each other has caused further trouble in Leroy and Norma Jean’s marriage. After Leroy’s mother-in-law inadvertently accuses Norma Jean of neglecting Randy resulting in his death, Leroy “opens a king-sized bottle of beer, and pours it into two glasses, dividing it carefully” (Mason 367). Rather than using this moment of anguish as an opportunity to talk about their grief over their son’s death, or the guilt Norma Jean is apparently feeling because of it, they use alcohol to escape discussing it altogether. Neither Norma Jean nor Leroy feel close enough to each other to talk about such a deep and painful experience. However, since it was a shared experience, there is a sense in the story that this grief cannot be overcome until both of them acknowledge that it exists. This is evident in Leroy’s lament when his son first died. At the hospital, Leroy thinks, “Nobody knows anything... The answers are always changing,” (Mason 363). Set in the 1970’s, the doctors cannot explain their son’s death. Leroy is desperate for concrete answers—as well as closure—and because of this he runs further away from his contrastingly complex and elusive relationship with his wife. Neither Norma Jean nor Leroy have the relational security to face their grief inside their marriage, because they cannot understand each other, which has caused them a troubled marriage.

The short story “Shiloh” wrestles with the complexity of human life and emotion, specifically through the lens of a troubled marriage. Following the story of two adults who have experienced the tragedy of their son’s premature death, Mason shows how an already troubled marriage can become detrimental to both parties. Neither Leroy nor Norma Jean are happy with their life together; Leroy spends much of the story dreaming about a log cabin he will never have the resources to build, and Norma Jean recycles many hobbies and college aspirations, trying to figure out how to move forward in life. “Shiloh” has an overarching theme of the difficulty of a troubled marriage, showing the complexity and at times misunderstandings of such personal relationships. Leroy and Norma Jean have together experienced death, and this tragedy adds to their relational trouble, creating a barrier between them. Mason’s short story showcases how a marriage can fall apart when it lacks empathy, effort, and communication. More than that, however, “Shiloh” shows the complexity of human life and experiences, through a story many Americans can, on some level, relate to.

Works Cited

Mason, Bobbi Ann. “Shiloh.” Mays, pp. 360 - 372

Mays, Kelly J., editor. The Norton Introduction to Literature. Norton, 2014.

The Similarities and Differences in “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” [Fiction]

English 275

13 September 2016
  

The Similarities and Differences in “Recitatif” and “Cathedral”

The two short stories “Recitatif” by Toni Morrison, and “Cathedral” by Raymond Carter appear at first to be very different. The former is about a middle-aged man whose wife’s blind friend comes to visit for the evening. The latter is about a young girl who spends her childhood in an orphanage with a girl of a different race, as well as the struggles and victories throughout the young girl’s life regarding race and her experience in the orphanage.

Using six aspects of a story to first contrast and then compare “Recitatif” and “Cathedral,” there are three differences and three similarities. The differences include: the complexity of plot, setting, and fundamentally different characters. Despite these differences, “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” also share similarities: specifically, their theme of enlightenment to discrimination, the importance of point of view, and using symbols that at first appear to be inconsequential, but are vital to the story.

The plots in “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” differ greatly. The plot in “Recitatif” happens over a span of twenty years, following the major character Twyla from childhood to adulthood (Morrison 140). Consequently, the plot is rich with characters and events. On the contrary, “Cathedral’s” plot happens over a span of one evening, and therefore is not complex. The story recounts a man, his wife, and her blind friend who all enjoy an evening of conversing, drinking, and smoking.

In addition to one plot being complex and the other simple, setting in both “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” also differ. While both stories are presumably set around the same time period, “Recitatif” is set in many places, including an orphanage, a restaurant, the streets, a grocery store, and a bar. “Cathedral,” on the other hand, is set mostly in one place: a home somewhere on the East Coast.

While the two major characters in “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” are both round and dynamic, they are fundamentally different. In “Recitatif,” the narrator Twyla is a naïve girl who sees the world matter-of-factly. She plainly reports what happens to her, mostly from an inexperienced worldview. For example, when Twyla is confronted with racism, she says, “I didn’t know… Busloads of blacks and whites came into Howard Johnson’s together” (Morrison 141). Conversely, the narrator in “Cathedral” is a middle-aged, cynical man with a pessimistic worldview. He tells inappropriate jokes (Carver 36), has no friends (Carver 36), and offers a bleak mindset in response to life: “A blind man in my house was not something I looked forward to” (Carver 34). The major characters in both stories differ significantly in life experience, personality, and worldviews.

Both “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” share a theme of enlightenment to personal or communal discrimination. In “Recitatif,” this theme enlightens the reader to race and stereotypes. The major character, Twyla, is enlightened to racial discrimination when, after referencing a scene in Howard Johnson’s in which her childhood friend Roberta was rude to and dismissive of Twyla, Roberta responds “…you know how it was in those days: black—white. You know everything was” (Morrison 141). Twyla is surprised at this statement, because this type of racial segregation is not how she views the world. Through this, Twyla is forced to be enlightened to the reality of racism.

In “Recitatif,” Morrison does not reveal the races of Twyla or Roberta. Twyla states that together at the orphanage her and Roberta “looked like salt and pepper” (Morrison 132), implying that one is Caucasian and the other is African-American. However, the characters’ exact racial identities never become apparent to the reader. Because of this, the reader uses stereotypes to assume the races of the characters. Morrison holds back information in the story to enlighten the reader to these stereotypes, and show the harm they can inflict.

Similarly, “Cathedral” has a theme of being enlightened to personal discrimination against another peoples. The narrator is uncomfortable with blindness. For example, when his wife tells him a blind man—Robert—is visiting, the narrator, not knowing what else to say, jokes about taking the blind man bowling (Carver 36). When Robert arrives, the narrator is uncomfortable with the fact that Robert is not wearing dark glasses to conceal his shifty eyes. The narrator’s uncomfortableness with Robert could also be defined as disgust, because he goes so far as to say Robert’s twitching eyes are, “Creepy” (Carver 39).

The story begins with the narrator’s uncomfortableness and disgust with blindness. He does not know how to react to it, and he does not want to know either. When he and his wife are listening to a tape of Robert giving his opinion of the narrator, they are interrupted and never finish listening. The narrator reacts by saying, “Maybe it was just as well. I’d heard all I wanted to” (Carver 36). The narrator does not care about Robert’s opinion of him, because he does not care about the opinions of blind people.

However, in the story the narrator’s discrimination towards blind people is questioned, and the narrator learns to see the world as blind people do. After drawing the picture of the cathedral, Robert tells the narrator to open his eyes. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed (Carver 46) because he has realized that simply seeing the world does not equate with experiencing it. He is enlightened to his own discrimination, and now experiences a new empathy and different worldview than before.

Point of view is important in both “Recitatif” and “Cathedral,” because if either story was told in a different point of view, the impact on the reader would not be as poignant. For example, in “Recitatif,” Twyla is in some ways an unreliable narrator; Roberta stated that the orphanage’s kitchen maid Maggie is African-American, and that as kids, Twyla and Roberta pushed Maggie down. However, Twyla remembers Maggie to be a different race, and to have fallen down naturally. The actual events of their childhood are questioned, and the reader is ultimately left without knowing the truth about Maggie. Morrison uses this limited first-person point of view to conceal the truth about Maggie from the reader in the same way it is concealed from Twyla. Because of this, the reader feels the same instability that Twyla does about her childhood identity.

Likewise, “Cathedral” is written in first-person limited; much of the narration happens in the narrator’s head. The reader has access to the narrator’s discriminatory stereotypes, inappropriate jokes, and overall discomfort with Robert’s blindness. It is important that “Cathedral” be told from this character’s point of view, because the reader needs to know all of his discriminative thoughts in order for the ending of enlightenment to be impactful. The narrator is a dynamic character, and first-person limited showcases his change to the reader.

Both “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” use symbols in similar ways. In the beginning of “Recitatif,” Maggie does not appear to the reader as a vital character. When reflecting on an orchard that Maggie frequently walked through, Twyla says, “Nothing really happened there. Nothing all that important, I mean” (Morrison 133). Maggie is not brought up again until eight pages later, and in the meantime the reader has virtually forgotten about Maggie. Because of this, Maggie seems to be insignificant.

However, in the end, the reader finds out that Maggie is vital to the story. The last line of the story, said by Roberta, is: “‘Oh shit, Twyla. Shit, shit, shit. What the hell happened to Maggie?’” (Morrison 147). The actual events of what the girls did or did not do to Maggie are unknown. This seems to haunt the characters, and may also haunt the reader. Twyla’s memory of Maggie shapes her memory of St. Bonaventure orphanage, and therefore her entire childhood and identity. Maggie is a symbol of a theme of loss of innocence in “Recitatif.” While it is possible Twyla did not harm Maggie, she remembers clearly that she wanted to harm Maggie, and this memory paired with one that might include her actually doing harm, is uprooting to Twyla. Her innocence, identity, and morality is questioned within this memory, or lack thereof.

Similarly, “Cathedral” has a significant symbol—the cathedral—that at first seems inconsequential to the story, despite it being the title. However, the cathedral in the story does not make an appearance until the very end. Even then, the narrator states, “‘The truth is, cathedrals don’t mean anything special to me. Nothing. Cathedrals. They’re something to look at on late-night TV. That’s all they are’” (Carver 45). The cathedral is seemingly unimportant to the reader until it becomes a symbol of the theme of being enlightened to new lifestyles, and the meaning is clear. The cathedral becomes important to the narrator, because it is what connects him to the blind man, and opens his eyes to what he is personally blind to—the lifestyle and worldview of someone different from him. Through the cathedral, he is able to expand his mind, and destroy discriminatory stereotypes.

Both “Recitatif” and “Cathedral” share differences and similarities. Specifically, they differ in complexity of plot, simplicity in setting, and fundamentally different characters. “Recitatif” is complex, with naïve characters who deal with racism and identity. “Cathedral,” on the other hand, is simple in plot and setting, and instead focuses on the major character who is pessimistic and rude before being enlightened by Robert. However, both stories share a theme of enlightenment to discrimination, in the ways Twyla is forced to deal with racism, and the narrator in “Cathedral” is shown by Robert that blind people have a unique and valid perspective of the world. The stories also share similar points of view, and symbols that support themes in subtle ways. In both “Recitatif” and “Cathedral,” readers will be enlightened to new perspectives, and offered the chance to evaluate personal opinions and stereotypes in order to test them against a higher standard.

Works Cited

Carver, Raymond. “Cathedral.” Mays, pp. 34-46.

Mays, Kelly J., editor. The Norton Introduction to Literature. Norton, 2014.
Morrison, Toni. “Recitatif.” Mays, pp. 131-147.

Confidence in Relation to Humility

“Confidence” is a tangled word I often avoid for fear of misrepresenting my meaning. It’s a concept we can grasp, but what is it, truly? An innate “power” that we need only to set free? An ability to overcome insecurity by sheer desire? In fact, I think it’s neither. Because when I think of the confidence I ultimately desire, I know it is not and never can be my own.

When I search my own heart and mind, I find deep insecurity. Within, I find the fear of taking control and the inclination to take control creating tension between each other. Perhaps it is possible to find a balance between the two–but two extremes cannot create a synthesis unless that synthesis transcends the nature of the extremes. How do I find transcendence when I myself do not have the power to rise above?

Sometimes my fear of control hides behind the face of humility; other times, my desire to control hides behind the face of leadership. I long to have humility and leadership–but I am only living a facade if I believe these values can be attained on a surface level. My humility can only reach down as far as my insecurity, it cannot reach the roots without breaking through. I want to grow from the roots of humility and freedom, not insecurity.

And so, I must allow the sun–and the rain–to touch me. I must allow it to reach down and permeate the deep roots of insecurity and fear, and I must allow humility to grow in its place. But replacing something I’ve always held onto out of comfort and fear will cause pain as deep as the roots that have grown. So one more thing: I must allow pain in order for liberation.

“The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off . . .

“After a bit the lion took me out and dressed me . . . in new clothes.”^[1]

___________________

[1] The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, C.S. Lewis

The Great American Novel Is a Fake

The Great Gatsby was a novel I put on my reading list as an ambitious thirteen year old who wanted to read all the classics for the sake of reading the classics. I knew it as "The Great American Novel," a novel about the American Dream set in the Roaring Twenties. When I eventually read it at fifteen, it wasn't at all what I expected. This was the book considered "Great," this was the book that captured so well the nature of the purported American psyche? Not that my hopes were so high I thought it might carry the meaning of life, but I did expect it to offer some wise advice about success. And it does discuss success in many ways, but not in the clear cut and easy-to-understand version that fifteen year old me wanted. Fitzgerald doesn't just warn us about the meaninglessness of living to party and drink, or placidly remind us that we should find purpose at some point in our lives. Instead, Fitzgerald prevents us from mechanically unwrapping his story, by writing about the unavoidable failures of placing our success in unsuitable ends; and consequently what derives from a life lived that way. He took what Americans consider to be fundamental to "the Dream," and showed how even success can fail.

As a reader trying to define success, the biggest thing this novel offered me was the reason to contemplate a simple question: "How should we approach success?" Then, reading further, "Should success be our end goal?" and "Does/should success define us?"

Though I think success can be rooted in truth, I often see it defined subjectively. Which I can understand when success is generally defined by the achievements of one's own goals. Though there does seem to be that aspect of relativity to it, I do think it's important to think about success and how it influences and pertains to our lives societally and individually. Maybe The Great Gatsby doesn't have all the answers, but it definitely asks questions. And sometimes being asked questions is more important than being handed the answers. Gatsby touches on success in a valuable way. Understanding Gatsby, Daisy, Nick, Tom and all the other Gatsby characters, I'm impelled to live my life with a purpose. And if I deem that purpose to be success, Gatsby asks me the question: "why?"

Gatsby has a significant motif: facades. In the end all of the facades were not only dishonest, they were detrimental. Fitzgerald's characters are rooted in their own success – or lack thereof. They build a facade because they don't know any other way to achieve success. And as a result, they're desperate, unhappy, and grasping at meaning and fulfillment in every way they know how. Their desire for success drives them into building their identity, relationships, their entire lives, off of a false pretense. Their own success (be it money, love, status, happiness, etc.) is what ultimately results in their demise. Though it's not simply because of their longing for success; it's because they all looked for success in things that couldn't offer them everything they wanted and needed.

Instead of searching for success in something unchangeable, the Gatsby characters placed their success in unfulfilling things. James Gatz found success in status and dignity, so he rid himself of his past and created "Jay Gatsby" in hopes of charming his one love. Daisy found success in her own confidence and attraction, and is clandestinely allured by the mysterious and exciting Gatsby. But this isn't enough for them. Gatsby doesn't like the man Gatsby, he likes the idea of Gatsby. Daisy doesn't like real love, she likes the idea of real love. We don't like The Great American Novel – we like the idea of it.

And I might be stretching a bit far by saying this, but maybe we like the idea of success rather than success itself. Maybe that's because what we define as success isn't as fulfilling as we think it will be. Maybe we get caught up in ideas and hypotheticals and facades in the same way the Gatsby characters did. We shouldn't define success by our own standard of achievement; success is defined by living for a Higher Good. Perhaps living virtuously or living for our own happiness isn't enough; perhaps we need a concrete end, an absolute telos that can only be fulfilled by the Unmoved Mover himself.

I Am Restless

"Thou awakest us to delight in Thy praise; for Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee."

–Saint Augustine[1]

I am restless; I believe we all are. I can't help but think that all of us, whether we realize it or not, are relentless in our pursuit for purpose and meaning–for truth. Everything we do, from our daily actions to our life decisions, desperately cries out for a direction to turn; for a purpose to achieve; for truth in which to be rooted in. Our beings long to be fulfilled and complete. We long for a deeper purpose than merely existing to die. We yearn–ache, almost–for a Higher Good that can fulfill our empty souls and our anticipatory hearts. We want to be sustained, to result in something. We are like the ocean, running and running, searching for His shore.

I am searching for Truth. Because from Truth comes virtue, hope, worth, and rest. I am restless without Truth. Let us continue to be restless while we pursue God and His promise. Let us relentlessly seek Him for all of our days. Let us never find rest in anything other than the One who gives us true rest, true fulfillment. Let us forever be restless, looking for Him.

// Until the sea of glass we meet
At last completed and complete
The tide of tear and pain subside
Laughter drinks them dry

I'll be waiting, anticipating
All that I aim for, what I was made for
With every heartbeat, all of my blood bleeds
Running inside me
Looking for you \\^[2]

___________________

[1] Restless by Switchfoot

[2] Augustine's Confessions, Book I