Speachless

I feel reluctant to write this blog, not because I did not enjoy Oedipus, but because it is hard to analyze a story which has no apparent “happy ending”. It seems as though fate chose Oedipus to do such horrible things, and for some reason he rightfully deserves such a life. His father maintained hubris, so perhaps he was rightfully killed, but the fact that Oedipus should suffer more by being exiled blows my mind.

By today’s standards, Oedipus would have been punished for killing anyone, not just a king, but this is ancient Greece we are referring to, where this is of no consequence. The fact that it was self-defense gives even more leniency from me, but he killed one of kin, and more so, the king, and this did not go over very well. I pity Oedipus even though he did such twisted things. I feel as though he were set up since the beginning of his life to be doomed and it is not a comforting thing to think that life should really go this way. No one likes their life planned out for them, and it never ends up well. It must also be especially difficult to have to play to such humanistic and short-tempered Gods that plan someone’s life out for them. The monarchy, another power figure, is flawed; no one can trust a human to be flawless, and this story explains that the royal Laos family has a curse, which emphasizes the humanistic qualities of a ruler that rules under the gods, which leads us back to hubris. It does not seem fair, although it seems weird that such ideas as “fate” and “karma” are expressed hundreds of years later in novels, future religions, and daily life. This idea of existentialism is expressed here, in Ivan Ilyich, and in Metamorphosis , and the realization that life is out of our control. Each story displays extreme examples to get the point across to their readers of what happens when power is not in our control, and as a result inflicts on us whether we are prepared for such things. Would any of us really roll over and allow someone to turn us into a bug, or allow fate to lead to our ruin, or even allow death to succumb us all? If we had our choices, I am sure no one would want to welcome any of those things to take us over, but maturity is realizing that we are limited in our power just as Oedipus and his father, Gregor, and Ivan were.

We all have free-will, and where our free-will is limited, none of us are ready to be controlled. Sure, when it comes to being governed, or managed in our jobs and societies we accept, but when it comes to our personal self, not just our commands or actions, we know there is no way to have the opportunity to object. Sometimes we all forget that we have the opportunity to object commands; however, when such things as fate or karma intercept, there are higher beings at play, and it seems to be unavoidable. It is not a comforting feeling to be out of control, and this is simply the feeling I get as I read each of these three stories. I believe it reminds us all of something that we do not have control over. This can be a psychological propaganda, or a political piece of literature. I believe that Sophocles might have accentuated this story of Oedipus in order to draw the reader into feeling helpless, or perhaps sorry for someone who had done wrong. It seems weird to me that I should feel pity for someone who slept with his mother, and killed his own father, but I feel it was not fair that life has had this planned out for him, and this may be a reflection on myself and how I would react.

All religions state that when you do something bad, that bad things happen to you; everyone gets their means in the end. This mantra has been pushed down our throats for eons. It is against our teachings as humane and civil beings to accept the feeling of pity for bad things or people, but there is perhaps more to look at each situation.

This story is simply interesting. It hurts my mind to explore further into the plot. I feel it is laid out for us what happens, and it is a great drama. This might have been intriguing for many audiences, and drama’s are meant to be overdone. This story might have been some sort of a happy ending, as Oedipus is exiled, or the bad man goes away, and what makes it a drama is its feeling of grief at the end. This might be ironic to have a happy ending where the "bad guy" is defeted, but we are still not content. Not only are we grieving for Oedipus’s father and mother, but also himself and his children. Hubris from being a king, or solving the riddle of the sphinx may have led to both Oedipus and his father’s downfall, but as humans, we see more sympathy, and I am not sure if that is a difference between now and then, but a lack of free-will may also make this a drama. If only we could all jump into the story, we could altar the ending of the story, but in life there is no altering fate, or is there? No one will EVER know. This question will continue to scare, and plague many, since it will never be answered, but let us continue to read on for more pessimistic or optimistic views on the meaning, rules, and outcome of life itself. All anyone ever does is put spins on it, and this one truly made me surprised at my reaction to such a disastrous act. (832)

Kafka Convert

It is hard to read a story without a happy ending. Well, Metamorphosis had one, but not the one that I was expecting. The “good guy” was turned into a cockroach. I read on and on trying to catch something that he did to deserve this punishment, but I got nothing to vindicate my original thoughts. Most children are taught at young ages the fundamentals of religion whichever one they practice, and learn that if you do something bad you are punished. Kafka throws us all for a loop when he brings up the point that this horrible thing might have happened for no reason, which may also prove there being no higher power to prevent something like this from happening. Religion exists for those to qualm their fears of the unknown, and to protect them from the unknown which is usually bad since what is not known cannot possible be prepared for. No one can prepare for being turned into a bug. This scares most readers since, unlike most stories, there is no vindication for the bad guy, and it leaves the reader thinking who the bad guy is, or even if possibly he wants to say that being a “good guy” is not a good thing. Nice guys finish last apparently.

Does his family have a point when they say that he is no longer himself when turned into a cockroach? Has he already died if he can no longer contribute anything material or vocal anymore? This story is very existentialist. What is love in this story? Is there love? Is there a higher power such as karma that takes care of rewarding the good, and punishing the bad? These questions are asked daily, and this is the first time that I have read any author say that there might not be anything that controls karma. It was an exaggerated situation that constitutes this story; however, it might have been the only way to get the issue across. This story starts out so strangely, that it makes you think about the underlying point being made without actually knowing that you actually are. He’s a bug, not a dog, he is cold and unapproachable, and he becomes unworthy of love. This mirrors Kafka’s depression, or any other’s experience with it. Is a person worthless when they no longer are contributing to society? Subliminal messages have been sent out to inflict on us all that this is a possibility. Are people just dead weights if they are homeless, old, or depressed? When people are depressed, they are lost, and the family in this story renders him motionless. He is left alone; he is tossed out, and becomes a burden. The family is glad to be rid of him. This may be an accurate depiction of how people react towards people who are depressed, or perhaps how a depressed person perceives others as acting.

At first, I found this story to be just odd, but after having read it, I moved on to possible explanations for why the nice guy got punished which lead me to think of larger issues that were hidden in the stories plot. This is a result of most things that I read. If I do not buzz through stories with pleasure, I usually read them then work on what they mean and then they too become favorites. An acquired taste rather than a common favorite such as with pizza verses falafel and hummus. I can say that I have learned to like Kafka and Tolstoy just through writing a blog. (594)

Everything will be iluminated in the end

I thought it was very successful putting the funeral at the beginning of the story of Ivan Ilych in order to convey to the reader that this is not a superficial story merely conveying a point in someone’s life, and a storyline that is told in chronological life order. Simply put, it expresses to the reader the notion that the most important thing in this story is not the physical outcome. This story goes deeper than creating suspense or a dramatic event, but it dives into the mind of Ivan as he succumbs to death, by not enforcing the event of death itself.

It takes the acceptance of Ivan dying to bring about true thoughts that he has avoided all of his life until now. Many people try and avoid going through deep thoughts in order to maintain a shallow life without worry, and easily accomplished goals. Who can say that this is a bad thing since many of us are victims? We all are involved with consumerism, and “ideal” commercial images that are thrust upon us all, and the goals that end up with obtaining things in order to become this ideal state are easier to obtain than our own intellectual, or emotional enlightenment. Different cultures dedicate their lives to finding this enlightenment, and meaning of life, whereas more industrialized nations have sought out other mechanical ways of enlightenment, which are not necessarily more advanced.

I think that Tolstoy wanted to convey that no matter how long we all avoid the inner questions that we all slip out of our psyche throughout the day, everyone must deal with them in death. He brings up important questions that make us think of whether or not it is better to deal with them as they come or let them pile up. We all want to go the safe route, and Ivan is a cultural representation of the social norm that we have all created to lead a “safe” lifestyle. In death, what can all those days of security bring you but the questions that you have continued to ask all of your life? Ivan ended up wanted to shed his figure of authority for a shoulder to cry on. Must we all put on these personas, and lead the lives we are bound to lead in order to confound to what others deem as normal? Even facing death, Ivan never cried. I wonder if anyone ever figured out why when people grow older that they always crave the past full of innocence. Ignorance is bliss, but maybe the true path of enlightenment is reached by being honest with oneself, and not waiting until death to do so. It was a sad novel because he wasted his life not dealing with the inner struggles, and regarding them as pointless since he was dealing with his entire life’s struggles in one sitting, only to have a funeral where no one grieved. It is part of human nature to want to slow down, and be alone in order to figure out who we all are. We have been hearing quotes over and over telling us that God has made us all different for a reason, but no one ever stops to try and figure out or accept how different they really are.

Tolstoy takes a dramatic existentialist storyline in order to express this point of inner coherence. Some people might get it, and others may have fallen so deep in the social manipulations to deem it as boring and a poor read, but to me it might be those things, but the underlying message is what carries out an important message of illumination. (609).

What is love?

Love in the Time of Cholera expresses the notion of love in many forms. There are many ways of loving someone, and after reading this novel, I am not completely sure if there is such a thing as having a “one and only” someone. Florentino has dedicated himself to Fermina, but has he continued this dedication from puppy love out of habit, or is it really in truth? It becomes a habit for Florentino to be able to have promiscuous relations with many women, but justifies it with having a true love at one point in his life that he says fulfills him. It would be sad to think of not having anyone to truly care about you. Florentino has a notion of love that is made up from love letters, but has nothing to do with reality. He comes up with this idea of love which has everything except the input from Fermina. Florentino learns all about other women, but only sees the excitement with Fermina that was cut off, and the sexual relations that he lacked with her. He was never able to develop anything past excitement, so he looks back at Fermina as a relationship that was more than it really was. He embellished what his relationship lacked, and he blamed Fermina’s decision on being forced to marry Dr. Urbino, when, if she wanted to, she could have defied her father, but it was too hurtful to think that she really did not want Florentino.

It is sad to think of Florentino living an unfulfilling life, full of fruitless ventures after someone who may never had thought of him as anything more than a shadow. All of the women he has had sexual relationships with are tough widows who can manage by themselves except for fulfilling their sexual needs, which is where he knows he is always needed. He calls these women birds, and suffices himself by making sure he has convinced himself he is useful.

Fermina is bothered by the fact that she knew Dr. Urbino was a good husband, but she was unhappy. He may have been everything she needed, and respected her wishes, but she was not fully satisfied mentally. Every person is relative, and it is not weird that someone who appeared so perfect was in fact not perfect for her. She is unsatisfied at the hurried lovemaking of Florentino, but she is somehow still happy with the outcome. After they have physical relations, she and Florentino do not do it sporadically because at their age, they realize that each other’s company will suffice. Florentino realizes how selfish he has been all of his life as he takes from someone who is not a strong widow, but a fragile young girl. He has led a young girl to death from the way he was once treated. He wants to escape with his prize for the rest of his life, which is numbered.

This book was very confusing in that it left me knowing that love has no true definition. In this book, it would seem that Florentino would be unsatisfied with Fermina, and she with him, but sometimes love works out in weird ways, and sometimes people have more than one love, or maybe they do just have one. The ending left me confused at whether Florentino had more than one love, or he in fact did only dedicate his heart to Fermina all of his life. Maybe he did not let himself open up to any of the women he slept with, or let them get to know him, or vice versa. I believe that was the author’s point. That Florentino only developed relations with women that he had gotten to know before sex, like Olimpia, Leona, and Fermina. When he had time to think about where his love was taking him, rather than go with passion, he realized what kind of women these were, and how he was attracted to strong women he could never have, and who were better off without him. This must have torn him up that no one needed him. Not even the widows who were using him for his sex. I think he relied on Fermina’s youth to need him to be her all-time suitor. (709)

In Love in the Time of Cholera, the author expresses Fermina as being someone who does not love. She only finds someone to fulfill her needs. At one point in the third chapter, the author says that she is haughty and that she inquires. She has never expressed the emotion of love. She is hardened. She has married someone who is willing to love her, instead of Florentino who is willing to love for the both of them. Dr. Urbino is young and lusted after; therefore, it is easy for Fermina to see that she would want someone that other people want. He is also successful which her father, and friends would like to see. She has married up in the world.

Her choice of marriage might mean nothing to her. This is the person for which she is suppose to grow old with. She grows to live with him, not love him. He has grown to love her for perhaps different reasons, maybe one of respect, or unity. She has never gotten the chemical feelings of love when she has been around him, only lust. This book divulges into the differences with Florentino especially. He is beginning to try to fill the void that Fermina has created. She is living her life as she needs to, but is too naive to realize that she is missing love. How is she to know what love feels like, or if it even exists? She has been hardened from the experience with Florentino. She thought she loved him, but from her father making her leave him, she created an elaborate illusion in which reality was not better.

Love is not definable. It has no boundaries. You cannot even call it love for that is setting it into a binary to love someone, and to not. There are all kinds of degrees of love. A person can only give out so much of one kind. Fermina gave out her heart to Florentino, and she has not discovered that she has given it out yet. She is living life to its standards. Love has no standards, and the reader pities Fermina for her lack of experience with love. Florentino is driven by it. He cannot seem to get rid of it. She has tried to fill it as well, but they are both being told at different ends of the story still attached by each running paragraph.

The End of "The Sound and the Fury"

I have just finished the novel, and it has left me feeling very empty. It offers a stable enough resolution, a quiet one in which the reader is aware through Jason of the happy ending with seeing his unrest; however, it also ends with Benjy upset and unsatisfied with his own existence. Everything just seems to keep going at their residence with everything else going on outside of it that affects them. It seems as though no one is ever satisfied. Each one has their own identity which is exemplified in their sections. They all have their own lives, and affect each other unknowingly, and almost selfishly. I cannot tell if this is a wholly bad thing. Every one has their own problems, and their either too young or too immature to deal with their own as well as everyone’s beside them. The family is tied with painful love for a number of different things which all lead to their demise. This can be a love for money, for each other, for one’s self, or a search for love. Every one of their lives keeps going on and on as more unrest occurs within their family walls. Who can be the one to solve it? Does there have to be a savior in this family, or can they proceed to go on with their lives or not with selfishness? As a reader, it is depressing to witness a family’s solution being one not tangent to the norm of all good endings. A good ending is one in which all are happy, and the evil is eliminated. In this ending, the evil is all around them, and is not entirely eliminated, nor will it ever be. What is deemed right is thrown out the window, and leaves the reader thinking if everyone simply wastes their life with sitting around all day as events move around them, as it appears in this novel. Life is not planned out by any number of characters, but is taken as it comes; the only exception would be with Quentin when he obsesses with time and how it should be spent. This book leaves the reader confused with what life’s time should be spent doing. Is it constantly a waste, or should it be taken as it comes and large events should not be expected or prepared for, but taken as they come up? Everyone has their problems, some are worn on their sleeve such as Caddy, or Quentin, but by entering in all of the characters minds, we find that everyone has the problems they must deal with whether they be other’s or their own. I actually felt bad for Jason for not knowing what he did was wrong, or perhaps he did know, and that was why he was so emotionally invested. I actually felt bad for him even though he was making derogatory anti-feminist remarks. I ended up feeling bad for all people, whether they have problems that could easily be posted in a newspaper and evoke pain, or even just make them passionate. (511)

Time according to Quentin

I am not sure why, but I found the Quentin section a lot easier to understand than the Benjy section. I quickly read through the Quentin section more so than the Benjy one. I actually felt like I related to Quentin’s obsession with time. I became obsessed with the opening words to the section said by Quentin’s father regarding time. I might have read it wrong, but I ended up taking it as a notice that whenever people are doing something, and the ticking of the clock is bothering them, which is obvious, the ticking goes away, and that is the true gift, is forgetting time. The true gift of life is forgetting time, and not thinking it as a constant reminder, but to live our lives, and the moments as they come. Too many times people are plagued by their futures instead of taking things slowly, bit by bit. I am a victim just as Quentin is, (if I read correctly). He could either be committing suicide because of his overwhelming love for his sister Caddy, or for his obsession with time and the shadows that chase him. He is either way overcome with sadness, and has a stoic, glazed over sereneness towards the end. It is almost portrayed as a happy ending, which is creepy. Either way, I completely agree with the point that was brought across, whether I was right or wrong, I agree with the notion that the recognition of time is what can destroy us all. Just as it is quoted in Macbeth I think it was said over the “sound and the fury” quote, it was mentioned similarly that life is something like a shadow on stage only to have its brief moment in the spotlight and flitter away. This statement I have made is not exact, but describes the poignant side of life. Life itself is full of happy moments, but it is not necessarily described as being happy. It is not described as being anything. The time is what makes most people upset. There would be no grief if it were not for time passing. The name associated with the idea of time, is itself upsetting. Why must the society as a whole be so obsessed with the notion of keeping track of where we all stand all the time? Why must everyone be in a rush to do what they deem necessary in order to live a happy life, which is apparently not even realistic? This sounds pessimistic, but it is simply an observation which might scare many. Time plagues us all as it does Quentin, and these life questions come into play, not out of pessimism, but out of the notion that nothing can ever be truly described as any human emotion, or word association in general. Quentin was overcome with time as a student at Harvard as time plagued him wherever he went with ideas of what he should do with the next moment of his life. He was also plagued by the shortcomings of his life in which many are plagued with what should be sought after in life, what is deemed right, or an appropriate life to lead. He did not get what he wanted, which was perhaps Caddy, and he saw no other way. This chapter brings up many questions, and I found it very interesting. (560)