Thursday, March 26, 2009

Why Edward is Beautiful

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Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Where He Left Us

It is difficult to keep up hopes, but easier to give up or hide the slightest, most dismal form of it deep inside one’s heart. Many of us, human, don’t like bad surprises and tend to avoid seeing what we don’t want to. McCarthy helps presenting the readers with many human characteristics we want to close our eyes upon.

Every time the man and the boy find food and shelter, they don’t show much hope in the circumstance getting any better. For an example, when they found an underground storage of essentials, they have this conversation:
“How long can we stay here Papa?
Not long.
How long is that?
I dont know. Maybe one more day. Two.
Because it’s dangerous.
Yes.
Do you think they’ll find us?
No. They wont find us.
They might find us.
No they wont. They wont find us.” (McCarthy 148)
Even though the father reassures the boy that no one will find them, he says that they have to leave soon. The scene introduces hope to the reader as well. However, like the characters does, we quickly get rid of any hope, or at least attempt to. We don’t want to be unprepared for any dreadful thing that could happen. In this liminal society with no order, especially, it makes people feel better to not get too comfortable anywhere. It only makes one more naked, in a sense. One would have a much larger chance of facing danger. That feeling keeps the characters and us uncomfortable.

The boy points his finger at the reader when he insists on looking at what is in front of him—the reality:
“They’re already there.
I dont want you to look.
They’ll still be there.” (McCarthy 191)
Not looking at the horrors of the world doesn’t remove any of them from it. I think many of us can find ourselves closing our eyes on horrific sights. However, that only makes us ignorant and no better, if not worse. The boy points his finger to those of us that tend to do that, and criticizes the ignorance. I was stabbed with his bony finger.

There are many other ways and elements McCarthy points out to the ugly side of mankind. He drags us into liminality and leaves us there to make us think about the ugliness inside us.

McCarthy, Cormac. The Road. New York: Random House, 2006.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

A "Enchantez" with Oneself

Harry Potter grows up on 4 Privet Drive in “The Cupboard under the Stairs,” deprived of many important part of boyhood. The Dursleys never gave him anything close to love. His knowledge about his parents almost amounted to nothing. The celebration of his birthday was, of course, denied. That was the only life he knew until his eleventh birthday, when his life completely changes.

Birthdays are liminal. It occurs at the awkward time when one is a certain age but feeling he/she is still in the previous one. Therefore, it is an important rite of passage. It is a vital passageway for one to go through each year.

On his eleventh birthday, Harry is celebrated for the first time, by a stranger. The eleven years worth of celebration comes with the sudden realization that he doesn’t know a lot about himself. He is rushed into a world foreign from what he knew for eleven years—a world in which everybody knows him.

At the welcoming ceremony at Hogwarts, all the new students are sorted by the Sorting Hat. This itself is like a re-baptizing ceremony, where each student is led out of the un-belonging state into one of the four houses. The students find themselves more comfortable I their new home.

Harry, however, is handicapped with the fame he had: “Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won’t even remember!” (Rowling 13). It was not a fame he had earned himself. He is, therefore, still uncomfortable: being in a completely new environment where he never knew about before, surrounded by people who know him—his name, his scar, and his fame.

When he won the Quidditch match for the second time, by catching the snitch and not “nearly swallowing it” this time, therefore, he had finally earned his fame: “He’d really done something to be proud of now—no one could he was just a famous name any more” (Rowling 225). Through his first year at Hogwarts, Harry fills himself little by little with what was deprived from him—self identity. He slowly finds out more and more about his parents and about himself, and goes through tasks which helps him live up to his own name.


Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter. New York: Scholastics. 1997.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Imitation and Confusion

Change is never so smooth. Study of history proves that transition, involving clashes of different ideas, is difficult and painful. After Iorek Byrnison is dethroned and exiled from his place with his fellow bears, Iofur Raknison becomes the new king and introduces new customs—quite different from the traditional ones. The other bears are confused and Iorek seems to be the only real bear, at least according to the traditions. Iofur loses to Iorek in the fight because he rejected from being what he was and wanted to be something else—a man.

Iorek was banished from his home because he had killed a fellow bear in a fight when he should have just wounded him. Although he had killed the other bear because he had let anger get hold of him, the crime was not completely his fault. Iorek’s opponent was drugged and did not recognize his defeat. Since the cause was not just, he was probably able to obtain his former place after he killed Iofur.

He was able to kill him because he was able to trick him. Serafina Pekkala states to Lyra, “When bears act like people, perhaps they can be tricked” (Pullman 278). Although Iorek told and proved to Lyra that bears cannot be tricked, he was able to trick Iofur because he did not want to be a bear. When Lyra encounters Iofur, she sees that “his face was much more mobile, and expressive, with a kind of humanness in it which she had never seen in Iorek’s” (Pullman 294). Not only that, but he was holding a doll—“he was pretending he had a daemon” (Pullman 295). Therefore, Lyra knew that she would be all right. She could trick him because he was obviously pretending to be something he was not.

Lyra tricks Iofur into a one on one battle with Iorek. If she hadn’t done that, the bears would have attacked him with firearms without giving him a chance to have a real fight. It was a violation to the tradition to fight an outcast. Iorek was exiled a while before, and he is not supposed to come back. Even if he does, he doesn’t deserve a righteous combat. The Professor explains, “He’s not a bear, you see. He’s an outcast. …Degraded…” (Pullman 290). Although Iofur exclaims, “Single combat? …Me? I must fight Iorek Byrnison? Impossible! He is outcast! How can that be? How can I fight him?”, he had already brought in new traditions so it wasn’t too difficult for him to violate an old one (Pullman 298). In other words, he was that obsessed with the concept of becoming a man.

The bears’ confusions between the traditions and the necessity to follow the king’s order are quite apparent as well. Lyra compares them with Iorek:
Their armor was polished and gleaming, and they all wore plumes in their helmets. …Iorek Byrnison…was more powerful, more graceful, and his armor was real armor, rust-colored, bloodstained, dented with combat, not elegant, enameled and decorative like most of what she saw around her now. (Pullman 286)
She even saw bears without armors—“a dozen or more bears, …none in armor but each with some kind of decoration: a golden necklace, a headdress of purple feathers, a crimson sash” (Pullman 294). They didn’t know how to behave because the new king was introducing so many new things (Pullman 294). They were stuck between Iofur’s want of becoming somewhat man-like and Iorek’s pride in being a bear: “They weren’t sure what they were. They weren’t like Iorek Byrnison, pure and certain and absolute; there was a constant pall of uncertainty hanging over them, as they watched one another and watched Iofur” (Pullman 303). Therefore, like Iorek who was exiled, they too are in a liminal state.

Lyra took the advantage of Iofur’s obsession and the other bear’s confusion to construct the ritual: “Fights between bears were common, and the subject of much ritual. …But occasionally there came circumstances in which the only way of settling a dispute was a fight to the death. And for that, a whole ceremonial was prescribed” (Pullman 302). The battle was two different ideas clashing. The two bears were not just a bear king and a exiled bear:
…Iorek and Iofur were more than just two bears. There were two kinds of beardom opposed here, two futures, two destinies. Iofur had begun to take them in one direction, and Iorek would take them in another, and in the same moment, one future would close forever as the other began to unfold. (Pullman 307)
Also, Iorek wasn’t the only liminal one. Iofur was, if not the same, more liminal than him. Not only did he bring in new and different concepts into his kingdom, he had committed a crime unknown to the fellow bears. He had killed a bear—“but it was worse than simple murder, for Iofur learned later that the other bear was his own father” (Pullman 299). He had committed a greater crime than Iorek. However, since no one knows this, he cannot be punished. Without being righteously punished, he is left in a dangling position of instability. Therefore, although Iorek was an outcast, the ritual succeeded, because Iofur was a liminal character as well.

Iorek saw that Lyra had tricked Iofur and realized that he could be tricked: “You could not trick a bear, but, as Lyra had shown him, Iofur did not want to be a bear, he wanted to be a man; and Iorek was tricking him” (Pullman 309). It is important for one to know what he/she is and what he/she is capable of. It is inevitable for one to be content with oneself—“Iofur was not content with his armor; he wanted another soul as well. He was restless while Iorek was still” (Pullman 307). Therefore, Iofur is vulnerable and Iorek is able to defeat him despite the tiredness he has which far exceeded Iofur’s.

As he states in the beginning of the ritual, he brings stability back to the bears. He cleanses his kingdom: “My first order to you all will be to tear down that palace, that perfumed house of mockery and tinsel, and hurl the gold and marble into the sea. Iron is bear-metal. Gold is not. Iofur Raknison has polluted Svalbard. I have come to cleanse it” (Pullman 306). Once he kills Iofur and finishes the ritual: “Every single badge and sash and coronet was thrown off at once and trampled contemptuously underfoot, to be forgotten in a moment. They were Iorek’s bears now, and true bears, not uncertain semi-humans conscious only of a torturing inferiority” (Pullman 311). He was able to do that because he was an outcast. He wasn’t polluted with Iofur’s new ideas and was a true bear. Although he was physically liminal, he was a bear and he was certain about that unlike the other bears. It is not wrong to want to become something more than one is. It is important, however, to understand the limits and work within. It is impossible to live a happy life without first being content with what one is.



Pullman, Philip. The Golden Compass. New York: Ballantine Books. 1995.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Learning--the Everlasting Journey

I found "The Idea" by Mark Strand to be about one attempting to get out of where they were and getting to another place, obtaining knowledge and experience he/she didn't have. The poem starts with these lines: "For us, too, there was a wish to possess / Something beyond the world we knew, beyond ourselves, / Beyond our power to imagine..." (Strand 1-3). The "us" in the poem wanted to go beyond the world they know to possess something out there--to obtain more than what they have. The poem continues: "...something nevertheless / In which we might see ourselves; and this desire / Came always in passing, in waning light..." (Strand 3-5). By attaining another perspective, they would be able to look at themselves from that other perspective, being able to see what they haven't seen before, another side of them. Also, that desire they had came in vagueness. They may not have been sure about the emerging desire, being so dismal; and/or they may have been trying to hold it back--knowingly or incautiously. Although they finally find another place, they didn't step out of the liminal place and step in there:

And there appeared, with its windows glowing, small,
In the distance, in the frozen reaches, a cabin;
And we stood before it, amazed at its being there,
And would have gone forward and opened the door,
And stepped into the glow and warmed ourselves there,
But that it was ours by not being ours,
And should remain empty. That was the idea. (Strand 14-20)

Although the place looked much comforting and warm compared to the coldness they had came through, they decided not to go in there. They say that the "cabin" was theirs by not being theirs. Even though they don't own the place, they know it from their perspective. It was something in their perspective at that point since they are looking at it from the outside. However, if they enter the cabin, they have a whole new perspective, and even if they settle down after the bewilderment and come up with another stable perspective, it will be different from what they had before, and that perspective would not have been the one of the past them. What was the purpose of the idea? By stating that it shall remain empty by not going in there, however, they are saying that they had come all the way through the liminal space to not go where they had planned to. Are they afraid of going in there--afraid at what may be in there? They could find something completely different and new...but they could find the things that they know of. Are they afraid of finding out that the suffering they went through to get here was meaningless? Or, have they attained what they wanted from the traveling and therefore seek no more? Was the step in solving the one that was the most meaningful and not the results?

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

The Building of Power

In “Power” by Adrienne Rich, the fact that the present is made up of the past is described. How our “now” is built by the events in the past. For an example, Marie Curie died from getting exposed to radiation. I thought it was also interesting how the poem expressed, “she suffered from radiation sickness / her body bombarded for years by the element / she had purified” (Rich 7-9). Curie cleansed the element by becoming the container of the plague. She was the scapegoat of the terrible affects of radiation. At the end of the poem, it is written, “her wounds came from the same source as her power” (Rich 17). Power is something obtained by building confidence, the building of past events, which also creates wounds.

The title of the poem is “Power.” The lines in this poem sometimes have unusual breaks, with more than one space between words. In her first stanza, the first word broke off unusually, is the word “in.” In the second stanza, it’s “out”; in the third stanza, it’s “from”; in the last stanza, it’s “a.” I interpreted this as a transition of the speaker consisting of power: one goes in and out of the state containing power, one obtains something from power, and one becomes a power. Therefore, one becomes power after playing with it and practicing it through time.

Friday, April 18, 2008

The Seeds of Tears

In "Sestina" by Elizabeth Bishop, the terms such as rain, tears, stove and almanac are repeteadly applied. Since I could go on and on about the terms, I will focus on the rain and the tears. The grandmother's tears are equinoctial--pertaining to a state of equal day and night (Oxford English Dictionary). The tears she tries to hide are balanced, probably meaning to have both happy and sad purposes for them. Although they are balanced in a sense, it is the inbetween liminal state. She is stuck in liminality. Since she hides the tears, the sky is crying, as the "September rain falls on the house" (Bishop 1). Even "the teakettle's small hard tears dance like mad on the hot black stove, the way the rain must dance on the house" (Bishop 14-6). The tears dancing like mad gives me a vision of someone dancing a "Waltz of Sorrow" if there was such thing, or even kind of acting or overaction of madness. It reminds me of Hamlet when he appears in front of Ophelia like a ghost, and of Ophelia when she is driven mad after finding out about her father's death in Hamlet. There is a theatric-like nuance to this line. I could envision the grandmother's sorrow dancing furiously inside her. The balance may be applied to the dance in a very interesting way. The dance, is sort of controlled because of the balance. Since there is the day and the night part to her tears, she can't go on about one, and has to balance them out, which turns out to balance the dance, giving it a kind of a control. Therefore, the dance is not simply of madness but is of a controlled madness--something far more dangerous than just a madness since now the person has time to think, to use the intelligence to create something horrible out of it. Another important aspect of this part is that the "rain must dance on the house" (Bishop 16). It does say that the tears and the rain "were both foretold by the almanac" (Bishop 9). But does the rain "must dance" or "must dance on the house"? Does it have to dance on the house, or can it be anywhere else? The house is a very important property of people. It gives them shelter and security, and is a device to express themselves. Since it is raining on the house, the house may be in a danger in a way. Even if they are small drops of water, if it keeps on pecking the same place over and over, they make a hole. If so, the shelter now has a small fault--a small hole--in the roof which makes it imperfect and less secure. But also, since it is raining outside, the people in the house probably would not go out unless it is necessary. The rain keeps the people in the house, giving more security to them: making them more safe but less active. Maybe the grandmother is afraid to go out and experience the world where, although good things occur, bad things may occur as well. The rain must dance--why? Dancing is an art form. She may be trying to express her tears beautifully. However, dancing is also a kind of ritual as well. It may be implying that she has to let her tears come out in order for her to move on--to escape the liminal status she is in. Then her teacup is "full of dark brown tears" (Bishop 22). Since the teacup has tea in it, it should be hot. Either she doesn't drink it or it doesn't help, "she shivers and says she thinks the house feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove" (Bishop 23-4). That happens right after the teacup is introduced. Have the tea cooled down by the time it was referred to in the poem? Is it because of the "tears" that fills the cup and not "tea"? The house also fails to give her shelter as she shivers. Is this because she doesn't let go of her tears and keep them in? As I have mentioned before, she probably has to let her feelings rule her for a moment and let things go out in order to escape the instability. Then the buttons of the man the child draws are tears as well. Usually children's pictures are heart-warming and makes people smile. Now the grandmother can't help but see the buttons as her tears. But this doesn't make her feel better because the picture is not really crying for her: they are buttons drawn by the child. Buttons hold the clothes together and usually helps straighten oneself. The grandmother is straigtening herself up by containing her tears. Although it is orderly, people sometimes need to let him/herself out. She won't be able to escape her status forever if she keeps hiding her tears. Now the "little moons fall down like tears" (Bishop 29). She is also "in the failing light" (Bishop 2). The light--clarity, hope, warmth--is failing and falling, and if she doesn't stop that, she would slip into darkness, with much difficulties to find the way out. At the end, the almanac says, "Time to plant tears" (Bishop 37). In order to plant them, she has to let them out of her. What grows from the seed of tears? Is it a refreshing happiness or an outraging sorrow? Is it the path out of liminality?