Tag: college

Another essay assignment…

Jeremiah Hall Palmer
Professor Mendel
ENGL200
June 29, 2012

Dear Prof. Mendel:

For this essay I chose to pick on Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land.” In this essay I’ve tried to stay focused on the topic of the differences between the written, poetic form that we are presented with in the text and the vocalized version of which the majority of us are accustomed. For a brief moment I touched on the topic of how the addition of music to verse can have an effect on interpretation and meaning—how could I not, as the two topics do cross over with this piece?

As always, thank you for your time and criticisms; I look forward to seeing what marks I’ve earned with this work.

Sincerely,
Jeremiah Hall Palmer

Jeremiah Hall Palmer
Professor Mendel
ENGL200
June 29, 2012

It can be very difficult—next to impossible, even, for this author—to read the lyrics of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land” without experiencing the melodic accompaniment echoing through the mind. “This Land…” has been implanted in many of our minds over the course of years, starting for many of us in elementary school, as one of the first songs taught in music education. Singing along internally comes fairly easily—almost annoyingly—while letting the eyes follow the printed text of the poem; that is, until the mentally pictured bouncing ball that followed the words hits the brick wall that is the additional “unknown” stanzas. Not only does the melodic flow of the words disrupted by the discovery that more of the poem exists—but perspective is changed, once these “new” passages are read, and discovery is made that there is additional meaning that has been stricken from the more “patriotic” version.

At the start of the poem, Guthrie illustrates a man’s nomadic wandering across the earthen face of the nation; visions of the vast and bountiful picturesque landscape are shared, with the exclamation that all of this is here for us to enjoy—this land was made for you and me (Guthrie, 5-8). Guthrie continues on in painting this picture; underlining that from Pacific to Atlantic, our eyes can see—and if we open them up further, our ears can even “hear” a resounding voice telling us that the majestic is ours to have and share freely (Guthrie, 11-12). Pressing further in his writing, however, Guthrie shows us that—sadly—the wonderful and sentimental truth he has shared is anything but; nature’s beauty and freedoms aren’t available to us all, after all.

A sign is seen ahead, and when approached, it is seen emblazoned with the words, “No Trespassing”; as with most signs which we see making such a declaration, our wandering minstrel notices that the opposite side is blank—suggestion is then made that perhaps we belong on the other side of the sign (Guthrie, 17-20). An interesting point of discussion arises from these simple few lines—is this some sort of symbolic representation? Has this simple poem that was taught to us as school-age children turned into political commentary? Continuing on, our lyrical guide takes us to a small inner-city scene, where poor and down-trodden seek out assistance (Guthrie, 22-23); following this, Guthrie poses the question, “Is this land made for you and me?” (Guthrie, 24)

We have gone from hearing, and singing what had been a rather calm, mellow, and upbeat song, to reading a somewhat depressing poem that makes us question the direction with which our nation is heading and the troubles that we—as a nation—are facing. In a land of wondrous beauty and opportunity, poverty is ever-present; varied laws and regulations withhold some from achieving the dream. There is still hope available, however, as Guthrie continues; he tells us in his words that he has the ability to defy the “No Trespassing” signs and be master of his own destiny and enjoy the elements written/ sung about earlier, and that “nobody living can ever make me turn back.” (Guthrie, 27)

In reviewing the original writing of “This Land…” and comparing it to the version most commonly known in song, we can see a difference in the interpretative meanings. Simply taking the traditional lyrics alone without musical accompaniment, we can see that the words can be slightly melancholy; yet when we apply the music, the words gain some “bounce” and are brought to a more comfortable and cheery level of relaxing and hopeful reflection of what the dreams of the nation are. Stripping the music away, however, and examining the entire written work exposes a writing of saddened concern for humanity and political system in America. It would be difficult to imagine what the traditional song would sound like with the addition of these stanzas; would the melody be capable of carrying these darker lyrics? And, had the additional verses been included, would the song have ever been published and risen to being such a commonly known song, given it would have been political commentary? I doubt it.

It is for this reason that I believe that the additional lyrics have been excluded from the song’s performance by nearly every performer—with exception to Woody’s son, Arlo Guthrie. The song has grown to be known by so many, that the discovery or inclusion of the additional verses would cause upset to persons who have grown so accustomed to the vision of a man, journeying the nation in solitude, breathing in the beauty, and finding peace. Any change would destroy this image and simply be unacceptable to the collective majority.

Works Cited
Guthrie, W. “This Land is Your Land” ENGL200: Composition and Literature. American Public University System. 2011. McGraw-Hill. PDF/Web. Retrieved from: http://ebooks.apus.edu.ezproxy1.apus.edu/ENGL200/Perkins_2011_unit2.pdf

…kind of a follow-up of the previous weeks’ forum posting…

It would appear that–in a way–I have already tackled this particular forum’s task through my response to last week’s forum. In writing about the form—the methods of rhythm, etc.—used in “My Papa’s Waltz”, I dove into how the structure and choice of words could have an affect on the reader’s interpretation, thus changing the meaning; in doing so, I uncovered two methods of critical response: psychological and reader-response.

In my initial review of “My Papa’s Waltz”, I came to the conclusion that the poem was simply about a father and son goofing off after supper, and getting on the mother’s nerves in doing so; I came to this conclusion based on reader-response—my own personal experience—as well as an historical approach. I hadn’t researched the period in which the piece was authored, but had let my own interpretation of the language and scene draw a conclusion of the setting; primarily due to the drink of choice being whiskey—“the whiskey on your breath…” (Roethke, 1), the fact that the father’s hands were filthy—“…palm caked hard with dirt…” (Roethke, 14), pans being set on a shelf instead of tucked in a cupboard—“…the pans slid from the kitchen shelf…” (Roethke, 5-6), I assumed that the tale took place in the late 1800s closing in on the turn of the century. After researching further and finding that the author was born nearly a decade after the beginning of the 20th century, and that this piece was published in 1942, I see that my assumptions of period are off—yet not by much, as a lower working-class home of that period would still fit within the same assumptions I had made.

From the melded psychological and reader-response viewpoints, we are still left with differing opinions. Through my own experiences I fail to see where the poem is one of abuse; whereas any person that may have had experiences with an alcoholic and/or abusive parent might see the work as a tale of how a child had been beaten, yet still seemed to possess a slight amount of unconditional love for the abuser.

For this forum prompt, we were asked to find an approach that would be best used in criticizing one of the works we read; I believe that in the case of “My Papa’s Waltz”, three approaches are available—with two standing at the forefront, joined in a combined approach. Given the few setting descriptors we can approach it with a slight historical view; however, as the poem is emotional in nature, we are left with the psychological and the reader-response. Due to the strength of the emotions contained in this poem—strong, perhaps due to the fact that tale centers around the view of a former child—reader-response comes out on top.

…based upon my own personal psychological and emotional response to the poem, I still see it as an innocent tale of a father and son enjoying a time together.

Works Cited
Roethke, Theodore. “My Papa’s Waltz.” ENGL 200: Composition and Literature. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2011. Web. 16 August 2011.

This post received the following responses:

The following is one more little essay I wrote for one of my classes…

Jeremiah Hall Palmer
Professor Mendel
ENGL200
June 28, 2012

Dear Prof. Mendel:

I must say that this essay took quite a bit of time to complete. I chose to use The Birth-Mark as the tale to place under attack, with the concepts of symbolism within the story as the focus of the essay. In reading the story it became clear to me that the topic of the story was that of perfection—or imperfection—and how man should find solace rather than aggravation with the slightest imperfections and disappointments—see beauty, balance and harmony in the chaos, instead of discontent—lest he suffer additional losses. An easy concept to write about, I thought; discuss how the mark on Georgiana’s cheek was the balance in her life—the balance in all of life—which made her beautiful to begin with. With an odd twist of irony, I stared blankly at my screen for hours trying to think of the “perfect” way to begin a writing in which I planned to speak downwardly about perfection.

To be frank, I am not that pleased with how this essay has turned out; it has not reached the expectations I had—more irony. Had I been able to think a bit more clearly—and if the assignment allowed for outside resources and influences—I would have tried to write a bit more about some of the psychological and religious aspects of the story, which are further symbolized in the relationship between Aylmer and Aminadab—I found a neat little piece online discussing the “bad anima”.

In spite of my limitations and my battle with writer’s block, I am very content with the fact that I did manage to have words spring forth from my fingers, tapped out here for you to read. I do know that my work will yield a better result than that of Aylmer’s, even though it is of a quality much less than what I had originally desired.

Once again, I would like to thank you for taking the time to review my work. I do hope that it has not been too hard to follow—though I wouldn’t be surprised if it is, considering the hours I’ve spent trying to untangle my thoughts. As always, do feel free to critique the work and offer up as much criticism—humorous or otherwise—crack if time allows.

Sincerely,
Jeremiah Hall Palmer

Jeremiah Hall Palmer
Professor Mendel
ENGL200
June 28, 2012

An Essay on Hawthorne’s “The Birth-Mark”

Nathaniel Hawthorne, perhaps most widely known for the Scarlett Letter, has been argued to be one of the most brilliant minds of American literature, especially with regard to some of the subjects he tackled in his varied shorts and novels. Hawthorne frequently tackled matters of psychology, though the evidence of these arguments were oft-times buried within symbolic elements in a matter akin to a moralistic fable, with the final reveal becoming clearer toward the end of the narrative; The Birth-Mark is one of Hawthorne’s works which employs such techniques. Though the battle of science and nature is an obvious conflict in the tale—something which is underlined heavily as the main argument for the story, within the first two paragraphs—it is the birth-mark which becomes the main symbolic element for the rest of the psychological conflict throughout the rest of the writing.

Aylmer was a man of science—knowledgeable and arrogant, with neuroses that may be described as narcissistic, perfectionist, and, perhaps, even a dash of a God-complex. This man who thought himself to be wise and worldly had fallen for a radiant beauty named Georgiana, that seemed perfect in every way, save one small blemish on her left cheek—a reddish birth-mark that had a shape favoring that of a tiny, miniscule hand. This imperfection became a point on which Aylmer obsessed—obsessed so much that in his own mind he began to see the mark symbolize nearly every negative in the world and in humanity; the pigmented skin became a “symbol of his wife’s liability to sin, sorrow, decay, and [die].” (Hawthorne, par. 8)

Aylmer’s obsession grew to a point where his distaste for the imperfection became subject of discussion between the two; eventually the hatred for the mark infected Georgiana, and drove her to desire it to be removed by some miracle of her husband’s science—even if death were a risk. Aylmer quickly jumped at the chance, proclaiming that he had been mentally concocting methods and formulae that would yield positive results in removing this fault of nature. Despite having had a dream that foreshadowed a negative outcome—a dream which sparked this discussion of the mark—Aylmer obliged Georgiana—and his ego, or id—to experiment with the mark’s removal.

Whilst in her husband’s laboratory, awaiting the procedure that was to remove the mark, Georgiana learns of Aylmer’s varied experiments; many of which having been failures, and a few successes being those that could potentially unravel life for one or many. Georgiana finds a journal of her husband’s, and finds how deeply depressed of a man he is—outlining failures as catastrophes and successes as failures, as nothing measured up to the high expectations he had set. Later, as Georgiana investigates more of her husband’s life in the laboratory, Aylmer confesses that he had already begun to experiment on the mark, long before her consent.

Eventually, Aylmer presents Georgiana with the elixir and watches her drift into a sleep. As he watches, he sees the mark slowly fade away. Finally, as the mark draws to a point where it has nearly vanished, Georgiana awakens, and announces to her husband that she is dying.

The birth-mark became yet another one of Aylmer’s obsessions—one of his experiments at creating something perfect, or modifying something existing in order to make it perfect. Aylmer’s haughtiness and belief in that he possessed—or could possess—the ability to change Nature’s design proved fateful time and again, and this time caused him to lose his wife. Symbolically, the birth-mark represented any possible ill-perceived problem seen in the world to which men of science wish to attempt to change. The birth-mark also stood as a symbolic representation of the paradoxical statement that within imperfection there is perfection—sometimes what we may see as wrong is right for certain purpose.

Aylmer, too, is a symbolic representation of certain sins and psychoses that are present in all of man, should we allow for these issues to take control of our lives. Aylmer desired much more out of his life than what was attainable—he desired to discover all the answers he could out of life without accepting that, at times, there simply isn’t an answer. Aylmer didn’t seem to possess the concepts of patience, acceptance, and serenity; had these elements been part of his psyche his character would have been quite different, and the poor Georgiana might still have life.

Works Cited
Hawthorne, Nathaniel. “The Birth-Mark” ENGL200: Composition and Literature. American Public University System. 2011. McGraw-Hill. PDF/Web. Retrieved from: http://ebooks.apus.edu.ezproxy1.apus.edu/ENGL200/Perkins_2011_unit2.pdf

Response to–yep, you guessed it–an assignment!

My Papa’s Waltz seems to be an awesome poem to pick on, especially where potential exists for a reader to see more than what is written. The poem has a very even rhythm to it, with every other line matching perfectly in rhyme and being within one to two differences in length when counting syllables. This pace aids in setting the mood for the poem, depending upon whether a few keywords or phrases trigger a past emotional response in the reader.

On the face—which is where I sit in reading the poem—I see a hardworking father having come home after a hard days work and enjoying a silly little dance with his child after having supped and having a short drink to relax his weary muscles and aching bones. Unfortunately, Papa’s drink is rather strong and lingers on his breath; despite the revoltingly powerful smell, the child clings closely to the father—which makes the dancing all the more difficult.

Father and child dance quite a while, awkwardly moving about the room—likely having many near misses with the furniture—jostling the floor, sending vibrations up the walls, disturbing mother’s cookware. Though possibly enjoying the connection being shared between the father and child, mother still wasn’t all that pleased because of the unnecessary romping and messes being created by the raucous.

As time presses on the difficult movements of the pair become a bit more awkward as the father’s body tires—or the relaxing effects of the drink take hold. Clumsy, tired—and likely well-lubricated, by now—feet get in the way of themselves, and the poor kid—who assumedly stands roughly waist-high—scrapes their ear against the father’s belt buckle as they move about the room. Eventually, the dance comes to an end, as the father takes the child to bed.

Alternatively, one that might have an unpleasant childhood and relationship with alcohol could see further symbolism in this work. The first three lines of the poem suggest that “daddy is drinking again” and that the fearful child must “[hang] on like death”; the final line of that first stanza then suggests that the codeword for abuse in this situation is waltzing—dancing. From this point forward other keywords in the poem become symbolic code words: “We romped… hand that held my wrist… My right ear scraped a buckle… You beat [sic] my head…” Amongst these words, the mother frowning, becomes a fearful wife. The battered knuckle on the hand holding the child’s wrist becomes battered from striking the child, possibly from “beating” the child’s head instead of thrumming a rhythm as he held the child close.

All of those words and phrases along with the cadence—something which may also be present in an abusive situation (cadence, rhythm, pattern, order, control)—aid in changing the interpretation of the poem. This work shows a good example of the importance of all the elements of form discussed in this unit—and how they can sometimes twist the meaning depending upon the end reader’s influences in life.

…but, seriously, it’s a poem about a father and child goofing off after supper; I’ve done the same—though my breath doesn’t smell of a distillery, mine smells like an ashtray… (and the kids have pointed this out—a stink that one doesn’t necessarily appreciate, but will love and cling onto anyway, just because it means being close to dad.)

This post received the following responses:

Ashley Heenan:

I did this poem also. I must admit that poetry is not my strong suit and I don’t know much about it. I see most of it one-sided like it is written and have a hard time looking deeper. Until someone commented on my post talking about the child abuse, I wouldn’t have even considered it. Mainly because I couldn’t see how the mother would stand there and watch it. But after reading your post, I see now what the other person was talking about you, but your interpretation clearly defines what could be read deeper. Because of the meaning of the other interpretation, I do prefer to think of it as just the hardworking father dancing with his father instead of the father beating his so. That’s only because no one really likes to think about child abuse happening and having someone there watching it and not doing anything.

Patricia Stubbs:

I am mildly surprised that the people who tackled the inner meaning in this poem did not take it as a dark poem. However, that is only because this situational poem would have been too close to getting emotional for me to have handled its dissection well. I spent much of my childhood humoring a drunken parent. Life just went smoother when we went along with his plans, even if it is dancing through the kitchen like the little boy and his father in the poem. Thank you for spinning this into a more positive light. I think the father in the poem is a little too far gone on whiskey for this to be a good thing. If he was just playing around he would have noticed the little boy’s uneasiness. The last two lines show the unconditional love of a young child for their parent, as he still clings to his father to head to bed.

[…kind of a recycled response to a class assignment… you can flip through the archives to see the original…]

Character development and style can be very strong elements in engaging a reader of any story. In The Things They Carried, author Tim O’Brien presented an interesting tale of the Vietnam war, and did so primarily through the views of one centralized character, Lt. Cross. Amidst the descriptions in the tale of the men and their supplies, we bounce back and forth from seeing the men—and Lt. Cross, in particular—as being “standard issue” grunts to being human. The development of the characters as well as the style used in presenting the tale—the cyclic switching of fantasy and reality—bring about an interesting perspective on war and the human psyche in general.

Throughout the work we are given multiple examples of how the war and the men’s prior lives have helped shape them. Though the military has prescribed a specific list of things the men must carry, each man carries something different with them—though in many ways, they still carry the same things. Comic books, photographs, letters, various “charms”—each man carrying something special to them which keeps them connected to their individual worlds at home; each man carrying something which attempts to keep them connected to sanity.

In the end, our main character, Lt. Cross, feels that his attempts at keeping sane—through his random daydreams—have drawn his mind away from his duties and caused an undue loss of life. I question whether the Leuitenant’s self-assesment is fair. Cross may have been miles away in his mind, but was he truly responsible for Lavender’s death? Day-dreaming of a woman that may not truly have “feelings”, imagining, questioning whether this girl was pure of mind, body and spirit—were these things really responsible for Lavender’s demise?

Boom-down. Zapped while zipping.

Cross, just as any other man would, found fault in himself, fault in his emotions—fault in being human—and decided to blame that fault for Lavender’s death. A good Lieutenant may not have been preoccupied with thoughts and visions of college girls playing volleyball, sure; but a good Lieutenant may have had his nose buried so deep in maps and radio communiqués that any number of men could have had their heads blown off.

Is imagination, fantasy, day-dreaming, escaping reality for a single moment—is it dangerous? It can be. Cross saw it as an avoidable danger in the end.

Are these separations from reality positive and helpful? Undoubtedly. One could question whether the men would be sane or even human if they did not take these breaks from the horror that they were living. It is my belief that the main point being driven here is that these feelings and emotions are impossible to escape; that to fantasize is simply a part of being human, and that it can and does happen at any time and in any setting. Whether these fantasies can be controlling—how influential they may be—is entirely up to the individual; interesting points to ponder, that were given to us through the awesome use of character.

O’Brien delivers his message very well, amidst this tale of a seemingly small platoon in the Vietnam War. The main concept of the collection of stories is to deliver the experience of the war; what better way to do so, than to write it in such a way as to allow for the reader to connect on a more human—a more emotional—level? In order to accomplish this goal, O’Brien made use of the historical fiction genre, and drew upon the use of fantasy as the connecting element between the characters and the reader. Fantasy also serves as an interesting element in affecting the flow of the story, jerking the reader into and out of the fantasies as well.

Delivering a factual tale of a war can be less than entertaining; telling the reader of the various equipment used creates a sense that the writer simply copied the dry and sterile text of a military publication—an equipment list, a duty roster, or a technical manual on the assembly of some exotic weapon. These facts, as necessary as they may be, do not engage a reader; breaking away and dipping into the souls of the characters involved, however, is very engaging. This is why, I suspect, that O’Brien chose the tactic of drawing us into the character; introducing the “current” fantasy and then breaking away back to the more “mundane” details of the things they carried, cycling back to the other “things” they carried—repeating the cycle.

This method—or style of writing—worked quite well to establish an engaging tale and give the reader a truer feeling of how fantasy can creep upon us, draw us in and then boom—back to reality.

—

Rather than keeping with one element as the prompt asked us, I chose to speak on both character and style, as the two were very closely related and equally important in this story.

…just as a side note…

…a really nice reading of the short is available at: http://www.podcastdirectory.com/podshows/10573078