Thursday, August 30, 2007

The Secret Life of Bees

Throughout reading the novel, one witnesses how different personality types react in certain emotional states. Each of the characters in the novel reacts to sadness, for an example, in all sorts of ways. In particular, I focused on Lily and Rosaleen because of the stark contrast they represent meanwhile maintaining a closeness with one another. I found each character humane by the mistakes they would make as a result of reactions to spontaneous outbursts of secrets that are woven throughout the plot.
I found that it was refreshing to hear the novel told in Lily’s point of view. She reacted as a naïve and vulnerable subject which was very agreeable. The reader connects with her as more as a person who is generally fretful and lacks the presence of a mother’s love. She responds to the circumstances in a very real manner. She searches for an explanation within herself, as well as comfort, which is something that everyone can relate to. People try to talk themselves out of a bad situation in order to convince them that the truth is not what it is, just as she wants to deny the meaning of her own name, “an unwanted child”. Every thought that crosses through Lily’s mind is one of humility which is something that is not presented in most fiction, or else it would not be interesting. This novel was interesting, most characters in fiction do things that are not expected in order to keep the reader engaged; however, in this novel, the reader is engaged by the feelings that everyone has, but are not usually expressed outside of the mind, and the plot that is told, which is delightful. Certain feelings that came up were feelings of humility and being uncomfortable for the first time around women of color during the ceremony of the black Madonna, “I wanted to touch her vanishing red heart, too, as much as anything I’d ever wanted. As I rose from my chair, my head was still swimming some. I walked toward black Mary with my hand lifted. But just as I was about to reach her, June stopped playing. She stopped right in the middle of the song, and I was left in the silence with my hand stretched out” (111). In these instances, Lily wants so badly to be a part of something but realizes it is wrong somehow. Her feelings were genuine and not a superficial remark. Her sincerity is refreshing.
Rosaleen is also sincere, but frank with her sincerity. She has genuine feelings, but she represents the type of woman who treats things with an immature openness. Rosaleen’s feelings are out on the table, unlike Lily’s who is all in her head, which is why she is the narrator. Rosaleen is hurt and jealous of Lily’s obsession with her mother to the point that she wants to downplay Lily’s expectations of her mother. She even gets jealous of August who is the oldest sister of the beekeepers for treating Lily like her child. At one point in the novel, Rosaleen tries to tell Lily her opinion, but all of a sudden she pities the state Lily is in and matures. The sign of maturity here is the feeling of not caring about one’s self any longer, but putting someone else before.
The entire book takes the reader through the journey of self-realization, which everyone has gone through despite how absurd a plot may be. Despite Lily having to deal with the murder of her mother and going into seclusion with three African American sisters who are beekeepers, on every level of reflection we can all relate to the conclusions she draws and the thoughts that cross Lily’s mind. Even though Rosaleen is not the narrator, the reader can catch on to her insecurities and her transformation from immature to mature. Lily realizes what the reader knew all along, that she had everything she thought she lacked, mainly people who cared about her. The reader can relate, on a human level, to the female growth that has occurred throughout the novel in relation to being vulnerable and having the ability to open up to the reader through harsh experiences.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Reading and Writing

Every summer, I go through a reading frenzy. I have always loved books; however, I feel as though throughout the year I have always been crunched for time, and am unable to motivate myself to read a book in my spare time that is not required. When I was younger I was an avid reader, but had a pending fear for reading books over two hundred, or (to be even more honest), one hundred pages long. This might have been due to my lack of attention span, or my urge to keep the title as most books read in the entire grade. Some may call this cheating, but I call it strategy. I do not in any way mean to downplay my title. I deserved it. Over the following nine years my love of reading had declined only to exponentially increase in high school where I had renewed my passion. I can safely say I read books over two hundred pages, but this may also have been attributed to the lack of complexity the longer the book, which has changed by the way. Not to be entirely scatter-brained, but a side note is that my new favorite genres are philosophical and religious. Sometimes quantity can not always be quality in my book, and I am sticking to it. My passion, this summer, was due to a shallow inspiration. Like most teenage girls, I can always spare time to glance at a few pictures of movie stars in trash magazines. In one magazine I came across a quote by Natalie Portman expressing her passion to know as much as she can. I am not ignorant to the fact that it might be sad to admit that Natalie Portman inspired me to learn more, but it’s best to be honest here, this is a blog after all.

Ever since reading the quote by Natalie Portman I find myself realizing that someone can live beyond the shallow hype that society puts forth in order to distract the nation from rising above their limits. So many things take up space in my mind that are not cultivating, but trash. I want to know everything. I began to be more and more excited to enter a bookstore. I realize there are so many things I do not know and I am just getting started! I can gloat to myself as I complete a book, and I am able to discuss the knowledge I have acquired and concepts above my teenage mind. Some of the books I read this summer were The Stranger by Albert Camous, Siddhartha, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Secret Life of Bees, The Late Bloomer, The Catcher and the Rye, The Age of Innocence, East of Eden, and Naked Lunch. The thing I most enjoy when I read is being able to talk and discuss what I have read. I do not enjoy reading books I dislike, it takes me awhile, but whether it is about existentialism, a coming of age, a hopeless romance, or even about nothing at all but the acid ridden mind of a psycho (Naked Lunch), I enjoy contemplating the ideas that come forth while reading these books.

When it comes to my writing, not many people have much good to say about what I have written except for my mother. This would be the only reason why I dislike it because I am not good at it. My grammar also needs work, and I realize the best thing to do is get criticized in order to improve which takes a lot out of someone, since no one wants to hear about what others have to say on the inner-workings of one’s mind if it is criticism. I have taken writing courses at Amherst Excel, but there’s hardly a way to get help unless I help myself and find out a way that suites me. I like writing creative stories, but writing critical essays is not my thing. I have never gotten any praise at any critical or historical essay. I can admit I like having a unique way of writing and addressing things in writing and in person regarding symbolism or breaking down people or characters, but my mind, as well as my writing as a reflection, is cluttered. I get carried away and do not want to read what I have just written. I may lack organization but I know I have style. My goal for the year is to work through my writing anxiety with confidence, and just like AA the first step is acknowledging they have a problem, right? Maybe that was not the best analogy, but I am sure that everyone understands my point as adult as that statement may be for a high school paper. My point is, let it begin! On a side note, I apologize for the length, (I got carried away). (814).