Prose Response #3

Hills Like White Elephants

Joe Howard

In Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway, the author explores the value of dialogue in an extreme way. In most of the short stories we have read in this class the authors usually balance dialogue with third-person restrictive, first person, or some other form of voice. This story, however, is composed almost completely out of dialogue between a man and his wife. We’ve spoken a lot in this course about the nature of voice, and how it can influence and help reveal the true meaning or meanings of a story. This story is a perfect example of how that can be accomplished.

Hemingway chose to tell the story of a recently married couple and their contemplations on abortion through dialogue alone. This decision is important because not only does it add mystery to the story, as the reader is somewhat confused and hesitant throughout, but it also allows the reader a front row seat into the lives of the two characters and, more specifically, the dynamics of their relationship.

By setting the conversation at a bar gives the first indication of Hemingway’s intentions. The first piece of dialogue we see is the woman asking her husband “what should we drink?” (p. 203).  This is important because even before we know the true nature of the story and the characters’ conversation, we already know which way they might be leaning towards. A woman who was pregnant, but wanted to keep the child, would most likely not drink, as that could harm the baby.

But then again as we dive further into the conversation we find that the woman’s answers are very short and she seems very sad, almost as if she doesn’t want to give the baby up, or is not exactly sure. If an omniscient narrator told us this information it would not be a very exciting story. Because the conversation is given in its entirety, we can see how the two people are truly feeling, through their words, as opposed to a narrator who spoils all of the surprises.

Prose Response #2

Currents

Joe Howard

Currents by Hannah Voskuil, is a flash fiction story where the plot takes place in reverse order. I felt like this was one of the best short stories we’ve read all year because not only was it a moving story, but it was also very aesthetically and sonically pleasing. It tells the story of a boy who drowns in the ocean and the reactions of a family who saw it happen. It begins with a man drinking in the darkness of the night on a porch, and a grandmother putting his children to bed. Before we even realize that the story is set in reverse we get a very ominous feel for the story through these first two paragraphs.

Although I’ve seen movies that are set in reverse, using mostly flashbacks and flash forwards, and read stories that have the same characteristics, this is one of the best I’ve seen. Normally reverse stories utilize flashbacks. This story does not, as it simply flows in reverse order. I enjoyed the surprises this system entailed, especially the dead boy’s brother and the daughter holding hands.

I had a hard time trying to figure out why an author would write a story in such a way, and the only thing I could come up with would be because she wanted to control the subjects of the story. Mainly, she wanted it to be about the family who saw it happen, not who it happened to. By starting the story off with descriptions that would imply emotions like sadness and shock, the author placed some importance in that. I think that it forces the reader to become invested in the characters before they even know them. What I mean by that is by showing the reader the emotions of the family before you see what caused those emotions; the author has forced you to connect with them as you ask yourself why would these people be sad? What happened to them?

The story is notable for its structure as well as its substance. The repetition of “before that,” along with the final line of “before that, it was a simple summer day,” the story becomes not only interesting to read, but also fun to read. It has a poetic feel to it, but the type of subject matter usually meant for fiction, and for that reason this was my favorite story of the semester.

Prose Response #1

The New Dress

Joe Howard

The New Dress by Virginia Woolf is the story of Mabel, an awkward woman who attends a friend’s party in a very odd dress. The most interesting aspect of this story is the way in which Woolf tells it. She chooses to use third person, giving the narrator free reign; however, it reads much more like a first person narrative than a third. Third person is useful because you can describe events and situations in a way that first person does not allow. The reverse of this, though, is in first person you get an insight into the narrator’s thoughts and reactions in a way third person usually does not allow.

This story, however, incorporates both of these tools. Although the narrator is in third person, he not only gives great details concerning the surroundings and situations the main character is in, but also gives us very detailed descriptions of the inner workings of Mabel’s mind and emotions. This system works very well in the story because, although the author is describing the goings on of a party, she is focusing more on how that party effects one person in it.

It would be quite easy for the narrator of this story to flip over to another character and reiterate her feelings, and how he or she is reacting to the party, but he does not. He stays with Mabel, giving the reader only one point of view, which, in a way, allows the reader to become more invested in Mabel because we can put ourselves into her shoes. This adds value to not only the character, but also the story in general because it does what only good stories can do, makes the reader become invested in the characters, immersed in the world that is being portrayed.

Fiction Reading Response

Fiction Reading

Joe Howard

For my fiction reading I attended the Webster reading series with Brad Wetherell on Friday December fourth. The Webster reading series is a program that lets graduate students from the university of Michigan take part in public readings. The reading I attended consisted of brad reading the first ten pages from his 50-page story, Asylum. The story consisted of a first person narrative of a presumably high school level boy.

The narrator tells the reader in great detail his experiences as a lifeguard at a mental asylum. The narrator was born on a farm on the outskirts of town and, as thus, has always felt like somewhat of an outsider. He is on the swim team at his high school, which is why his coach thought it a good idea to tell him about the job at the asylum. The section he read also focuses on the relationship the narrator has with one of his best friends, who gives him rides to and from work every day in exchange for gas money.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about the reading was this relationship. Brad’s story was in first person, so it is hard to determine what exactly was going on in the narrator’s friend’s mind; however, he does, through his dialogue, show that something is not quite right with his friend. We never truly find out what is the matter because he only read the first ten pages, but I like that about the reading because it made me want to buy it just to find out.

The other interesting aspect of brad’s story, in my opinion, was the interactions the narrator had with the people he was watching over at work. They were allowed to swim in four feet of water for around thirty minutes I believe, which is not much. The narrator found his job very comforting because he believed, and this is just my opinion, that he was more like them than his other friends, as he was an outsider.

Brad’s story was not only interesting because of the way he narrated the plot, but also because his descriptions and word choices were very well done. Although I don’t remember any specifics, I do remember that the way his words moved so naturally and his story flowed so well because, not only did he use carefully chosen words, but he also did not waste any words, which is a sign of a good writer.

All in all, this experience was beneficial because it was interesting to see an author read something he had written aloud to an audience. It made me think of how important every word is, and how equally important it is to write with the sounds of your words in mind. It is something that I have tried to do in my writings, but obviously have not succeeded as well as brad has.

Poetry Reading Response

Poetry Reading

Joe Howard

For my poetry reading I attended the Webster reading series featuring Amy Berkowitz. In my experiences, I have not been too inclined to like contemporary poetry. There is something about the free form lack of structure that makes up most contemporary poetry that makes me a little bit angry. I know I don’t have any authority to have a highly educated position on the matter, but I do know that I have a much more enjoyable time reading and rereading poetry by poets from the past who hide their meanings within their structured lines and rhyme schemes. Of course, that ambiguity could just be caused by the different variation of English they spoke back then.

Perhaps my ideology is based simply on the fact that I have not studied much modern poetry in class, I cant say, but of all of the contemporary poetry I have heard, I enjoyed Amy’s more than most of the others. There were some problems though. First of all, and this is just because I’m partial to the English of old as opposed to the modern version (especially as it pertains to literature), words such as “text message,” and “that sucked,” should not be in the poetic lexicon of a poet.

Although I don’t remember exactly what Amy said verbatim, I do remember not being altogether pleased with some of her word choices. I did, however, enjoy her poems. They were, for the most part, quite short, witty, and very funny. But at the same time they were also very serious in their subject matter. They spoke about love and family and relationships. The same topics the poets who came before us spoke about.

This brings me to my main point. I have always contemplated why the poetry of the past is so much better, in my mind, than that of today. Is it because we are lazy? Or maybe not as smart? Or perhaps its even because there is no audience for poetry anymore? But then again, I think that maybe the poetry we are writing in today’s world holds the same weight as it did in the past. Perhaps the only difference is how it is written, and that is a factor of how we speak in today’s world.

I often take that to be a bad thing, but maybe it’s just a truth of poetry or written language in general. There are great poets in today’s world, but it could be possible, as is usually the case for great poets, that their work will not even be published until after their death. But I find that hard to believe with all of the technology we posses.

Going back to Amy, I enjoyed it very much as a form of entertainment. It made me laugh, and I liked how it sounded—she had great end rhymes. But that got me thinking about how that wasn’t a good thing. Maybe there is a niche for comical poets who dabble into form and structure, but mainly just write to get their point across, but I just hope that there are still poets out there who enjoy conforming to structure in an un-conformative way. If that makes any sense.

Poetry Response #3

To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell

In To His Coy Mistress, by Andrew Marvell, the poet uses his verse to seduce his woman or “mistress”. It is broken up into three sections, as if it were an argument. The first is a hypothetical “if,” where the poet tells his lady, who we assume to be coy, that if there was infinite time and space for them to love, he would spend eternity professing his love and winning her heart so that she may no longer be coy. This section is interesting in that it reads like a common love poem. The narrator tells his mistress that if he had enough time “an hundred years should go to praise / thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; / two hundred to adore each breast, / but thirty thousand to the rest” (l. 13-16). It is almost as if the narrator, and Marvell himself, is showing his mistress, through his poetry, that although this poem is not a love poem in the normal sense, if he chose to, he could write love poems about her forever.

The second section is the “but” section, in that the poet’s speaker tells his lady that, although he would be willing to do all of these things if they were immortal, they are, in fact, human and will die some day.  This section is where Marvell sets up his argument to his lady. He wishes that she stop being coy; therefore, in this section he claims that although he would praise her for eternity, he cannot as he “always hears / time’s winged chariot hurrying near” (21-22).

The third section is where everything comes together. It is the “therefore”. In this section Marvell’s narrator explains to his mistress that they must not waste time, therefore, because their beauty will fade and they will eventually die, so they must not waste their time with romance and coyness. He tells her that he would “rather at once our time devour / than languish in his slow-chapped power” (39-40), meaning that he would rather they engulf each other and wait no time at all than waste away their remaining days in a perpetual cycle of coyness.

Poetry Response #2

In Astrophil and Stella 1, Sir Philip Sidney’s narrator uses unrequited love as a backdrop to discuss his writer’s block. The poem is the first of a very long sonnet sequence and, therefore, it is fitting that it discusses the trouble an author might have when sitting down to write a poem or book of poems. The first lines of the poem are very dense, exclaiming that “she might take some pleasure of my pain, / pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, / knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain” (l. 2-4). The narrator is musing about his reasons for writing poetry, mainly, he believes it to be a means to satisfy his desires in a relationship where his love is not returned. He believes that by writing down the pain he endures at the expense of his beloved, she might pity him and return his love.

The poem then switches to an exploration of how the narrator is going to create such a work of art. He uses words like “leaves”, “fruitful showers”, and “feet” to describe the poetry of others who had come before him. He exclaims, “invention, nature’s child, fled stepdame study’s blows” (l. 10). This line is important because it is where the narrator has realized that “invention” or originality and his ability to create his desired effect in his poetry is no where to be found in the “study” of the works of others.

Finally, the poet realizes how he will be able to create his poetry. He tells the reader that his muse, whomever or whatever that may be, tells him to “look in thy heart, and write” (l. 14). He has found that, by way of study and deep academic though, he was not able to create any substantial work of original art; therefore, he found that the only way to do what he set out to do is to look within him and simply write. This poem is amazing not only because it sets up one of the finest sonnet sequences in the English language, but also because it manages to speak not only of love or ambition, but also explores the difficulties with which one must struggle to create works of poetry worthy of their lofty ambitions.

Poetry Response #1

Do Not go Gentle into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas is one of the most famous examples of a villanelle. This poetic form has only two rhyme sounds and repeats the first and third lines of the first stanza in alternating order in the last lines of the following stanzas with the exception of the last stanza, which ends with both repeated lines. Thomas wrote this poem as somewhat of a battle call for his father who was on his deathbed. It repeats “do not go gentle into that good night,” and “rage, rage against the dying of the light.” These two lines must, then, be important to the poem.

One of the most interesting aspects of this poem is the very structured form it takes, and what it adds to the poem’s meaning. The villanelle form forces the poet to repeat lines again and again. Thomas’s choice of lines read like catch phrases or motivational clichés, urging the addressee, his father, to continue to fight to stay alive over and over again. Along with that, the constant repetition and recurring structure in each stanza can be understood to be, in itself, a metaphor for the father’s uneasy and never ending struggle to stay alive.

Although this poem is meant as a deterrent of death, in the same breath, it is also Dylan’s way of glorifying his father’s life and reasoning that it is O.K. that his father dies. By telling the reader that “wise men at their end know dark is right, because their words had forked no lightning,” Dylan shows that when a wise man is so close to death, he knows it, and accepts it. It is almost as if Dylan is telling his father that although he realizes his father is a great man and is willing to accept his own impending doom, as any great man should, he still wishes that his father fight of death for as long as he can for Dylan’s own selfish reasons.

The final line of the poem, disregarding the final two repetitions of the refrains, consists of the narrator asking his father to “curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray”. By using his father’s tears as a means to curse and bless himself, Dylan has revealed his intentions. Because he is attached to his father and does not want him to die, the tears that his father sheds is a curse because it implies his coming death; however, the tears also are a blessing to Dylan because they signify the death of a great man, who is willing to die peacefully, although his son does not want it so.

imitation 4

“no, I want you, I want you,” was all he answered, blindly, with that terrible intonation which frightened her almost more than her horror lest he should not want her. She thought to herself “am I mad? Am I truly insane? For I have just tried to kill myself, and only now, because of some uneventful act of heroism does this man even know who I am. I have gotten him to tell me he loves me, which was the first step. More importantly I have gotten him to say he would marry me, which is what I really wanted. I’ve got to go somewhere. But what do I do now, how does this work? I don’t know the first thing about this man other than what I’ve heard him saying to my brothers, and I don’t even find him all that attractive, even though most people would. Its clear he loves me, but do I love him? With any consideration worth considering the answer to that question has really nothing to do with this.” And then she said, “I love you to, lets marry tomorrow.”

 

A Very Old Man With Enourmous Wings

Elisenda let out a sigh of relief, for herself and for him, when she saw him pass over the last houses, holding himself up in some way with the risky flapping of a senile vulture. He flew over the ocean at first, dipping down almost to the water, not because he wanted to smell the fresh crabs or remember what the green algae looked like, but because he was still weak. His wings were drooping at his sides, and his face would scrunch up in pain with every flap of those scarecrow wings he had grown.

He had realized his trip across that ocean towards his home was too daunting to undertake at the present moment and returned to the sand. He sat there for a good while, perhaps an hour or two, looking out over the water. I like to think he was thinking of heaven, his home, but more likely he was just staring into the nothingness of the shore, and the eternity of the horizon.

Sometimes when I am out there fishing or swimming with the crustaceans I think if the infinite abyss that seems to be the end of the world. I’ve always wondered how far I would have to go out so that I would not be able to see home anymore, and how, in some ways, that place might be the old angels home. It seems like it is a whole world away, but its really just right beyond the horizon. But then I realize how stupid that is because a very old man with wings could live anywhere he wants, so why would he live just beyond the horizon. If I had wings I would live where there are no horizons. I would live everywhere at once.

And as he gets up and walks back to the chicken coop I see him cry for the first time.