Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Book Review

Few writers have the ability to present history to their readers with both historical integrity and quality narration. The former allows the reader an accurate appraisal of history. Yet, writers can easily neglect the latter. It is far easier for them to approach their recount with dry objectivity, void of a human “touch,” and void of a true story.

Victor Sebestyen accomplishes both tasks in his book Twelve Days: The Story of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. Filled with vivid accounts and character analysis, which comes from Sebestyen’s in-depth research, a largely forgotten historical event of the Cold War finds new life.

As a satellite of the Soviet Union, Hungary fell under the control of Maytas Rakosi, a torrid dictator eager to please his appointer, Joseph Stalin. Under Maytas, Hungarians came to know the AVO (the Hungarian equivalent to the KGB), who under the leadership of Gabor Peter, implemented the “salami tactics” of Rakosi to subdue dissent and retain control of the communist country.

After the death of Stalin, and the subsequent approval of Nikita Khrushchev to lead the Kremlin, Rakosi influence in Hungary diminished. Khrushchev and his associates, well aware of Rakosi’s brutal “salami tactics” diminished his power. One way in which the Kremlin accomplished this was through the appointment of Imre Nagy as the country’s Prime Minister.

Nagy represented a communism that sought to withdrawal from the harsh affronts of Stalin, mirroring the desire of Khrushchev, in favor of a more amicable system for the Party and Hungarians through his “June Road” plan. A polar opposite of the much harsher Rakosi, an embodiment of Stalin-communism, Nagy quickly amassed a loyal following amongst his compatriots. His rival-like stature to Rakosi, the First Secretary of the Hungarian Communist Party, was not unseen by the country’s leader. As he had done before with perceived rivals, Rakosi attempted to oust Nagy through trumped-up charges, which would ultimately lead to a show trial (a preferred method amongst Soviet communists to remove threats).

Rakosi failed at this, and was only able to fire Nagy from his position. Khrushchev later tired of Rakosi, and removed him from power. His successor, Erno Gero, would ultimately be in communist power when the Revolution began.

A communist student organization desired to march into Budapest City Park. A last minute approval by Gero sealed the eventuality. What began as a protest march, partly inspired by rhetoric heard on the U.S. sponsored Radio Free Europe, quickly turned into a revolution. Hungarian soldiers joined the side of their country, and what began has a mere protest to voice concerns turned into a hostile takeover of Budapest. The people rallied around the implementation of a Nagy-led government. Yet, the still loyal communist was unable to inspire and govern a rebellion, whose hatred of communism had grown since initial Soviet takeover of the country after World War II.

Intermixed between these events, Sebestyen places his readers inside both the Kremlin and the White House. Had the Eisenhower administration taken a more proactive stance to support rebellious Soviet satellite countries, the revolution might have brought significant change for the country. Instead, a more passive approach to communist “containment”, coupled with a developing Egyptian crisis, doomed the revolution of help from the West.

In the Kremlin, a Polish upheaval days before the Budapest march gave way to a more moderate communist led country with stronger autonomy. Initially, Khrushchev did not want to retake the country with military force, opting more for the agreement that had been reached in Poland. Yet, the violence exhibited by the revolutionaries pushed Khrushchev to invade, twelve days after the initial protests.

The succinct writing of a well-researched subject makes the book feel more of a narrative than a historical textbook. The reader quickly aligns themselves with the Hungarians through Nagy and various other insurgents based on their immense reproach of Rakosi and the communist leaders. Despite knowing the outcome of the uprising from the beginning of the book, one reads Twelve Days: The Story of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution with the investment of possibility, inspired by hope.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

A W.B. Yeats Takeoff Poem

This Fine Autumn Day

On Stephen’s Green her beauty shines proud
In a restless fit of old thoughts and dreams
A tender walk through an old mountain stream
Becomes a relic, more than Turin’s shroud

How many walks I made in younger years
Were filled with deep silence and solitude
And many doubts about Love’s fortitude
Drenched my mind in a great many of fears

Yet, now in older meek and humble ways
I search for a touch to come from your hand
Like an ancient jewel entrenched deep in sand
Longing to meet on this fine autumn day.

A New Piece in Chaucerian Lore!!

Fabliaux and the Bible:
How Biblical Allusions Shape the Miller’s Tale

Since the canonization of the New Testament in the 4th century under the supervision of Roman ruler Constantine, the Bible became a collection of books with strong prominence in society. Many pieces of literature have incorporated biblical allusions and undertones since its canonization. Geoffrey Chaucer used biblical allusions in the Miller’s Tale to supplement the story’s fabliaux quality. These allusions can often be indiscernible to modern readers, with diminished biblical comprehension in a growing secular society.

The Miller’s Tale follows the noble and chivalric Knight’s Tale. Where the Knight is an honorable figure, the intoxicated Miller parodies the Knight’s character and tale with a drunken story of adultery and flatulence. In the tale, one of the characters, Absolon, is a feminine looking parish clerk: “Crul was his heer, and as the gold it shoon…His rode was reed, and his eyen greye as goos” (MilT 3314-3317). Absalom was also the name of King David’s favorite son, who was a physically striking individual: “In all of Israel there was not a man who could so be praised for his beauty as Absalom, who was without blemish from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head” (2 Samuel 14:25).

The similarities of the two characters, according to Paul E. Beichner, “…suggests the biblical character and the traditions of vanity and effeminacy that came to be symbolized with that name” (qtd. in Cook 178). The usage of biblical allusions was common in Chaucer’s time. Lawrence Besserman, author of Chaucer’s Biblical Poetics, writes, “References to the Bible…were commonplace in medieval poetry. Accounting for the abundance of partial quotation and oblique biblical allusion in Chaucer’s works is therefore not especially problematic” (136).

By inferring a biblical character, Chaucer insinuates a moral aspect to the tale. In The Old French and Chaucerian Fabliaux: A Study of Their Comic Climax, Thomas D. Cooke writes, “Readers of the tale have long noticed various religious allusions that give the story a ‘moral edge,’ but more recently scholars have been finding enough religious allusions to force that moral edge into the center of the story” (178). The “moral edge” presents an interesting dichotomy to the common fabliaux characteristic of sex, specifically, the audacious affair between John’s wife, Alisoun, and her lover Nicholas. The biblical allusion strengthens the overall disregard of morality in the fabliaux, allowing the moral issues to lurk just behind the characters (Cooke 185). Another biblical allusion provides a comedic finale to the tale.

An amusing ending is a primary characteristic of the fabliaux. The climax consists of two elements: it comes as a surprise, and yet it has been carefully prepared for in such a way that when it comes, it is seen as artistically fitting and appropriate (Cooke 13). Chaucer references a famous biblical story to accentuate the comedic ending of the Miller’s Tale.

The great flood by God intended to wipe away the inequity of the Earth. He spared Noah and his family, commanding that Noah construct an Ark. “The Lord wiped out every living thing on earth: man and cattle, the creeping things and the birds of the air; all were wiped out from the earth. Only Noah and those with him in the ark were left” (Genesis 7:23). This is one of the most memorable stories of the Bible.

To coax John away from Alisoun, Nicholas, a scholar and astrologer, instructs him that God will bring about a second Great Flood.

“‘Now John,’ quod Nicholas, ‘I wol nat lye; / I have yfounde in myn astrologye, / As I have looked in the moone bright, / That now a Monday next, at quarter nyght, / Shal falle a reyn…so hidous is the shour, / Thus shal mankynde drenche, and lese hir lyfe.’”(MilT 3513-3521).


John accepts the young scholar’s deliberately misleading prediction and even agrees to build his own ark that, at Nicholas’ command, John will drop from his roof. This plan eventually backfires later in the story (thus supplying the comedic ending) when Absolon rams a hot poker in the ass of Nicholas. In searing pain, Nicholas cries for water. John assumes Nicholas is referring to the flood. John releases his ark, tumbling to the ground in idiocy, later ridiculed by the public. As was John, modern readers may be inclined to the plausibility that God would undertake a second flood.

However, careful reading of the Genesis story shows that such a scenario would not occur, should one take the biblical story literally. After the flood dissipates, God says, “I shall establish my covenant with you, that never again shall bodily creatures be destroyed by the waters of a flood, there shall not be another flood to devastate the earth” (Genesis 9:11; emphasis added). The rainbow that follows rain showers represents this Covenant. Modern readers, unaware of the full story of the Covenant, would not see the humor of John’s biblical ignorance if they were ignorant of the biblical narrative themselves.

In addition to supplying a very humorous end to the tale, John’s general aloofness in the story causes tension with one of the traveling pilgrims. The Reeve takes offense to such an unflattering depiction of a carpenter; fitting as the Reeve once served the profession. In the following tale, the Reeve tells a story depicting an unsavory Miller as an act of revenge.

Chaucer uses biblical allusions that become apart of the fabliaux structure in the Miller’s Tale. The inclusion of a biblical name introduces a play on morality and a major biblical narrative accentuates the comic climax of the tale. By recognizing these allusions to biblical stories, one better understands and appreciates the Miller’s Tale.




Works Cited

Besserman, Lawrence. Chaucer’s Biblical Poetics. Oklahoma UP, 1998.

Cooke, Thomas D. The Old French and Chaucerian Fabliaux: A Study of Their Comic Climax. Missouri UP. London, 1978.

The New American Bible. P.J. Kenedy & Sons. New York, 1970.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

An essay from my African-American Literature course

Poeticizing Tragedy:
Selected Poets and the Middle Passage

“‘Middle Passage:’ the WORD means blues to me” is the opening line of James A. Emanuel’s poem The Middle Passage Blues. The first horrific steps of the slave-trade were aboard the Middle Passage, the route taken by slave-wranglers to bring Africans to England and the United States. A majority of scholars on the subject estimate that for every one African to make it through the arduous journey across the Atlantic, five or six Africans would die. The Middle Passage forced an estimated sixty million Africans into its belly. Art very often becomes a means to deal with tragedy and history. It should come as no surprise that many African-American poets have composed art to deal with the tragedy of the Middle Passage. Many of these poems differ in terms of poetic techniques. Looking at selected poems by Robert Hayden, Lucille Clifton, and Phillis Wheatley one will see just how different these poems are. The methods vary between these three poets and their poems, yet all three of these works recapture and/or comment on the horror burdened by millions over the Atlantic Ocean many years ago.

One of the first poetic techniques found in Robert Hayden’s Middle Passage is intertextuality. Hayden includes lines from a Protestant hymn: “Jesus Saviour pilot me / Over life’s Tempestuous Sea” (20-21). Middle Passage adopts multiple perspectives within the narrative. Not one of those perspectives, however, comes from an African slave. Instead, Hayden opts to include narrations from members of a slave crew. John Hatcher, author of From the Auroral Darkness: The Life and Poetry of Robert Hayden, writes, “Hayden’s most adept handling of narrative to achieve poetic effect is his synthesis of voices and points of view” (261). Hayden uses these perspectives to achieve irony: a shipman onboard a vessel transporting slaves appealing to God. The plea continues: “We pray that Thou wilt grant, O Lord, / safe passage to our vessels bringing / heathen souls unto Thy chastening” (22-24). Immediately, the reader cannot help but feel a sense of hypocrisy on the part of the speaker. The act of an individual who participates in the slave trade, a grotesque endeavor, appealing to any compassionate God for a secure voyage is a delusional. Hatcher continues, “…any indictment of the slavers comes from our own reaction to the powerful irony of the accusations of the slavers themselves…” (139).

This notion was common during the years that the slave trade remained a working function of the American colonies; many found no religious hypocrisy in relationship to their actions and the spiritual teaching of Jesus Christ. Because the modern reader would be confused, horrified, and baffled by the fact that individuals would actually feel Jesus Christ condoned the slave trade, it creates a powerful (and historically accurate) representation of the Middle Passage. Despite the severe physical, emotional, and mental scars inflicted on fellow human beings by the functionality of the slave market, certain practicing “Christians” felt no hesitation or shame in facilitating that slave-market. Hayden employs this irony for the emotional benefit of his poem. This irony helps influence the reader into viewing the multiple narrations in a negative regard. What is interesting is that the vast majority of first-person narrations involve the protagonist, or the “good guy.” It is very unusual, although very effective, for Hayden to cast the first-person perspectives (the slave-shipman) in a negative connotation. This strengthens the reader to feel sympathy for the slaves and resentment for the practitioners of the Middle Passage.

In contrast to Robert Hayden’s rather lengthy poem, Lucille Clifton’s [the bodies broken on] is a shorter work, consisting of only eleven lines. The length of Hayden’s poem allowed him a larger poetic “palate,” if you will. He allowed himself more opportunities to generate thoughts and emotions to his readers by the simple fact of lengthening his poem—the more space one has to write, essentially, the larger amount of ideas one will convey.

Clifton’s poem is the opposite of Hayden’s endeavor. The shorter length of limits her space to generate thoughts and emotions. Therefore, Clifton employs language that achieves a great deal in minimal allocation. One of the first examples of this comes with the mentioning of the Trail of Tears. In 1838, under President Andrew Jackson, Cherokee Americans were marched west. Thousands died under the harsh conditions.

The affect that this historical event has in the poem is the conveying of death at the hands of a power (the United States Government) over those who lack power (the Cherokee). Immediately afterwards, Clifton mentions “the bodies melted” (3) in the Middle Passage. The poem’s speaker associates a harsh physical aftermath with the Middle Passage, and the slave trade, very quickly in the poem. The severity of melting bodies pushes the actual repercussions Africans under the slave trade. Although there were deaths, beatings, disease, broken families, no bodies physically melted. Yet, the statement in Clifton’s poem generates powerful imagery, one that brings total human destruction—a statement of the horrific journey of millions of Africans. In addition, Clifton further adds melodramatic imagery when the speaker comments how both the bodies of the Trail of Tears and the Middle Passage are “married to rock and / ocean by now” (5-6). Ultimately, the mountains’ crumbling on white men and the ocean’s pulling white men down “sing for red dust and black clay / good news about the earth” (10-11). Here, Clifton suggests retribution for the actions of past white’s in their treatment of others. What makes this poem so effective is usage of imagery and associations on the part of the reader. In their book Language in Thought and Action, S.I. and Alan R. Hayakawa state this about poetry: “…one has to admire…their [poets] deep awareness of the mechanisms of human perception and conceptualization that has made it possible for them to express so much so effectively in such condensed form” (196). This is precisely how Clifton influences her readers; painting strong imagery that lingers in one’s mind.

Regarded as the first African-American poet, Phillis Wheatley offers her readers insight into the Middle Passage, and slavery. Born in the African continent and raised in the American colonies. One of her poems, On Being Brought from African to America, uses language and form to describe her thoughts on the slave trade. On the surface, her poem can appear to be contrived and dogmatic, akin to a brainwashed work of art. However, subtle nuances within the poem paint an entirely different picture than initial readings yield.

As Lucille Clifton’s poem, Wheatley’s work is similarly short (only eight lines). The first lines of the poem play into the common societal beliefs of her time: “‘Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land; / Taught my benighted soul to understand / That there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too” (1-3). The first impressions readers gain is that Wheatley’s poem is the byproduct of colonial ideals toward Africans. However, Wheatley hides, or “masks,” her true feelings by putting on airs. The last few lines highlight this: “Some view our sable race with scornful eye; / “Their colour is a diabolic die.” / Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, / May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train” (4-8). By using a quotation to represent her society’s belief toward Africans (“Their colour is a diabolic die”), Wheatley now detaches herself from the more apparent tone of slave-trade “testimonial” and initiates her own commentary. For modern readers, this tactic in subtlety may seem confusing and unnecessary. What readers need to keep in mind is that Wheatley was not afforded protections that others were (there were no First Amendment rights for African-Americans). She would have to deal with the repercussions of openly criticizing the Middle Passage and colonial slavery. Therefore, she used poetic tact and cunningness to create a safe barrier between her own thoughts and those that were easily discerned in the poem—“masking.”

Note the italics in the second-to-last line. She highlights Christians, Negroes and also Cain (the evil son of Adam and Eve). Also, be mindful of her comma usage. First readings may yield a statement made toward Christians (i.e. Remember, Christians, Negroes black as Cain…”). However, there is a comma placed after Negroes: “Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain” (7). Using Wheatley’s grammar, one sees that the statement the speaker is making to both Christians and Negroes. Combined with both social identifiers italicized (suggesting a uniformity or together-ness), the reader discovers that Wheatley is comparing both Christians and Negroes as being black as Cain. The significance of the Cain reference is that many who read the Genesis account in the Hebrew Bible thought the mark sustained by Cain for murdering his brother, Abel, was to be interpreted as the “mark” of black skin. In Black Imagination and the Middle Passage the authors write, “…the dominant culture uniformly saw blackness as a stigma, the mark of Cain to be “refin’d” away, if not materially, at least spiritually…” (283). Her contemporary white readers (the vast majority of her readers would have been white colonials) would have inferred the “black as Cain” reference as one pertaining only to Africans, as commonly believed. Yet, Wheatley’s reference pertains to both Africans and Colonials. As such, her message can also be reread to infer that both Africans and Colonials “may be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train” (8). If an African slave, especially a young woman, openly suggested that white Christian colonials also shared the mark of Cain, she would have faced numerous reprisals, death being one of the many possibilities. By nature, artistic “masking” is subtle and difficult to extrapolate. Perhaps, Wheatley felt that her African contemporaries needed to be “refin’d.” However, the text can also suggest that Wheatley was not at a loss to comment on white-superiority/black-inferiority notions of her time. There is substantial logic for Wheatley to have incorporated a “masking” technique in light of the legal stranglehold held against the African-American contemporaries of her time, making her “true” intent difficult to separate from her masked rhetoric.

Robert Hayden, Lucille Clifton, and Phillis Wheatley use varying techniques in their poems that describe the Middle Passage. Hayden incorporated the Christian religion to build a poem around irony. Clifton used minimal syntax, focusing more on strong lexical associations and Wheatley “masked” her true thoughts, blanketing them in prose that is more ambiguous. These poetic measures differ, but they both focus on, bringing into higher awareness, the immense tragedy that followed the ships of the Middle Passage across the Atlantic. By reading and understanding the art that describes such tragedy, we may better understand it. Doing so will give cadence to the memories lost over that broad sea.




Works Cited


Diedrich, Maria, Henry Louis Gates, Jr., and Carl Pedersen. Black Imagination and the Middle Passage. New York: Oxford UP, 1999.

Gates Jr., Henry Louis and Nellie Y. McKay, ed. The Norton Anthology of African American Literature. 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2004.

Hatcher, John. From the Auroral Darkness: The Life and Poetry of Robert Hayden. Oxford: George Ronald, 1984.

Hayakawa, S.I. and Alan R. Hayakawa. Language in Thoughts and Action. New York: Harcourt, 1990.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

From a loosely inspired assignment on transitions

the lost Marconi


there is a lost Marconi wave
hidden deep in the temples
of the Aztec rulers
just before inventing
soccer.

herding the elderly to their deaths

or

singing old Woody Guthrie songs,
that one wave,

unaccounted,

floats breathlessly
in satin sheets
and nights crawling
with religion

Monday, October 02, 2006

A brief essay on a Charles Bukowski poem

The poet Charles Bukowski is quoted as once saying, "It's up to a man to create art if he's able, and not talk about it, which, it seems, he's always more than able.” However, much to the dismay of this notion, I counter Bukowski’s opinion with that of the necessity to “talk about” art in order to understand, and be ultimately moved, by any creative work, specifically his poem I’ve seen too many glazed-eye bums sitting under a bridge drinking cheap wine. By exploring this poem’s respected usage of narrative-addressing and adopting a post-structuralism approach in interpretation readers have a more defined aptness in understanding the poem’s principle architecture and will become more aware of new implications that, quite possibly, would go un-noticed during an initial reading.

The poem’s narration is in the first-person (note the usage of the pronouns “I”; “you”; and “we”). This type of narration, an addresser-centered approach, aims to place the reader directly within the scope of the main character to view situations, emotions, and thoughts within the vantage-point of the individual—essentially, one views the world as the main character does. Upon reading the poem one discerns that the addressing within the text (i.e. the narration) is monologic; the communication is between the addresser and the addressee with no inter-communication between the two parties—the narrator is the only “voice” heard within the poem. From this observation, readers can place attention on two main attributes of the narration: 1) the reader can focus on what the narrator explicitly states and 2) focus on what the narrator does not explicitly state. The latter is far more intriguing. It is in identifying “absences” and “gaps” within the poem that furthers the reader’s understanding(s) of this Bukowksi poem.

When examining the usage of language in the work we discover there are no rhyming patterns in the poem—it is a free-verse work. In addition to the free-verse structure, there is an absence of proper (or traditional) grammar when Bukowski forgoes capitalization with the first letter of the word that follows the end of a sentence: “have you seen the animal-eater.../ they show death. / and now I wonder…” (ll. 5-9). It would be a ridiculous to imply Bukowski simply forgot, or was not educated, that abstaining from this capitalization standard is a strict violation of grammatical norms. This suggests that this omission was intended. What one could discern from this observation is, possibly, that Bukowski is, for one, trying to rebel against the “chains of grammatical oppression” (which I find to be highly unlikely). Another could suggest that this might imply a psychological “dis-harmony” (on the part of the subject-narrator and/or Bukowski himself) corresponding to the dis-harmony of grammatical usage and a lack of rhythmic structure. However, I am more swayed with the notion that this is an example of regression, a more primitive usage (primitive is derived here from the absence of conforming to grammatical norms) of language corresponding to a more primitive state of being expressed in the work. This argument is strengthened when one examines the poem’s focus on death, “they show death” (l. 8) and consuming, “we consume animals / and then one of us / consumes the other” (ll. 16-8) which, traditionally, are two aspects that one could very easily harmonize with the notion of being primitive—the need to consume along with the inevitable reality of death. In addition, the lack of proper capitalization, and it’s primitiveness, parallels the early inclusion of the “animal-eater documentaries” (ll. 6-7) which I feel denotes television documentaries that shows the very basic (and primitive) need for animals to attack, kill, and eat other animals to ensure survival. This connotation established with the “animal-eater documentaries” becomes the basis for the poem’s dominant subject—the various degrees of “consumption” with the “new woman.”

A very notable absence in the text is the usage of details regarding the “new woman”: “you sit on the couch / with me / tonight / new woman.” (ll. 1-4). There is no mentioning of any physical characteristics or specific relation (minus the “my love” (l. 19) line which will be addressed below) of the woman-figure other than the fact that the woman is “new” (a new girlfriend? A new prostitute? A new friend? A newly reconciled long-lost family member?)—we are told seldom anything about this individual. I feel this is because the specific woman mentioned in the story is not overtly important—if she were she would be mentioned more prominently and with particular attention paid to explicitly describing “her” significance. Yet, the narrator uses the “woman” to expound upon the “eating” and “consumption” process that takes up the vast majority of the poem: “which animal of / us will eat the / other first” (ll. 10-2). Also, notice the pattern of the woman’s placement and usage within the poem. She is introduced in the beginning, catalyzing the moving towards the “animal-eater documentaries” (which introduced the connotations of death and consuming another for survival) and is re-introduced within the volleying of “consumption” between the two entities in the poem. This “new woman” exists in the text with a very sharp and direct association with the “physical” and “spiritual” consumption that is ultimately expressed—she is focused more as a symbol of that physical and spiritual consumption in the text and not a carbon-based female individual. From this standpoint, and correlating with the lack of details attributed to “her” in the story, I suggest the possibility that this “woman” is not, in fact, a woman but acts as a signifier for something else entirely.

If one were to replace the “woman” nouns and references in the poem with nouns signifying, let’s say, alcohol, narcotics, or pornography there would be a harmonious fit with no textual conflict because the absolute absence of details that would identify the “woman” as an actual biotic female are not present—the usage of the woman subject would serve as a “poetic lament” drawing on contextual usage of a “female” in describing non-sex related objects and/or themes (i.e. “she’s a beauty” when describing a newly purchased boat, commenting that “she was a mean wine” when referring to a not-so-agreeable Merlot one had last evening, etc.). This paradigm would also effectively explains the usage of “my love” (l. 19) not as an intimate addressing of an individual but as a poetic gesture. For example, if a devout patriotic American stated that he was “in love with Lady Liberty,” whom would he be referring to? I doubt he would have a physical attraction to the actual statue off Ellis Island in New York City but would instead refer, in an affectionate manner, to the concept, of freedom symbolized with a “woman,” i.e., Lady Liberty.

As stated earlier, the “new woman” is not the sole subject in the poem; the digression into “consumption” constitutes the main intention of the work to which the woman is attached with. There is both a “physical” and “spiritual” consumption at work: “and now I wonder / which animal of / us will eat the / other first/ physically and / last / spiritually?” (ll. 9-15). Although one could replace “new woman” with “CD player” and have no textual conflict (grammatically it fits fine) it would not amicably align with the “spiritual” degradation that is expressed. For that reason, there must be a subject-matter agreement that would also fulfill the “spiritual” side of the expressed “consumption.” That is why when I introduced the idea that “new woman” did not necessarily suppose a biotic female I used alcohol, narcotics, and pornography because they have very common, and a more acknowledged, spiritual debasement, in addition to a physical one, through the hands of addiction, compulsion, and obsession. Could the narrator (and, inductively, Bukowski himself) be commenting on the physical and spiritual taxation that an addiction carries with it? Very possibly. However, one cannot offer an explicit definitive affirmation of this. Because of the omission of detail attributed to the woman figure in the poem there is a large array of interpretations. However, one must acknowledge that this “new woman” could have been an actual woman. If so, the adjective “new” suggests there have been others in the past. With this in mind, and with the supplementation of the discussion regarding a physical and spiritual “consumption,” one could, very easily, feel that the narrator is implying a new girlfriend or a new prostitute (a possible source for “spiritual” consumption found in a biological female?)—there are possibilities.

Many critical approaches are available for the expert reader. However, one does not need to be professional critical analyst to appreciate poetry. Being aware of the authors organizational principles in the construction of narration and contemplating what is not admitted into a work are informative ways in which to immerse oneself into a greater understanding of that respected work. In engaging this Charles Bukowski poem by asking, “Who’s doing the addressing and who’s being addressed?,” and by deliberately centering attention to what is not the textually-based focus of that addressing we, by increasing our awareness of these features, increase the breadth of our comprehension and enjoyment.

A response to an article on J.D. Salinger

In Dominic Smith’s article “Salinger's Nine Stories: Fifty Years Later” which appeared in The Antioch Review, Fall 2003, the purpose is one, mainly, of exploring J.D. Salinger’s psyche—shaped by his historical contexts, and their subsequent repercussions, surrounding his life and works.

Smith reports of Salinger’s involvement in the wartime effort during World War II: “His job as a soldier was to discover Gestapo agents by interviewing French civilians and captured Germans; he also landed at Normandy and took part in the Battle of the Bulge” (Smith). Smith highlights this experience to show a major catalyst in Salinger’s evolvement; in his life and his writing. Salinger’s war experiences caused him to become very troubled. After returning from war he married—a marriage that lasted only eight months. The divorce, coupled with his war experiences, caused further feelings of alienation from society, and self, which spurred an interest, for Salinger, in Zen-Buddhism. From this perspective Smith feels that we gain a very prominent insight into studying and interpreting Salinger as a man and a writer—through spiritual means. Smith points out that a major correlation between Zen Buddhism and post-WWII outlooks of the time were the concepts, and consensus, of life as illusory, life as suffering, non-attachment to fixed meaning, experience as fragmentary and subjective, intuition as central, a sense of the absurd in human experience, the necessity of irrationality combined with a turning away from absolute coherence and unity (Smith). From this realization one can approach Salinger’s works—especially Nine Stories from which our English 301 class will read “A Perfect Day for Bananafish”—with a more accurate disposition attributed to the mind of Salinger himself.

It was most assured, Smith postulates, that there was an interest on Salinger’s part to explore the psychology of the human mind: rational and irrational, poignant and absurd. Smith goes on to say that “the mysterious inner lives of his characters, the labyrinth of character and story through which he minimally guides us, that slight sensation that we have missed some vital clue to a character's downfall yet recognize that this is the same clue we miss every time we watch the disasters of the evening news or a neighbor's life reduced to tragedy--these arise out of navigating between these poles and become Salinger's fictional legacy” (Smith). The feelings of alienation are common in his works, Holden Caulfield in A Catcher in the Rye, for instance, because they correspond to Salinger’s own feelings of alienation. The stories derive meaning without ever sacrificing the mystery of human experience; they try to suggest more than they try to illustrate and in this way remain illusive at their core (Smith).

I feel that Smith’s insight offers readers, young and old, to explore a unique realm within the works of J.D. Salinger. By understanding the man’s life and experiences we can approach his fictional narratives to be, in some sense, non-fictional interpretations of his great “Zen Quest” of the human mind via his intriguing characters and stories. When our class discerns his “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” we can better understand occurrences of illusiveness and intrigue as literary manifestations of Salinger’s trek into the human mind to explore our thoughts and behavior—one of immense searching for understanding. I, for one, will be very interested to hear Salinger’s take on things.

An essay composed when contemplating the meaning of life

It is a question quite possibly as old as humanity itself—why? What is the purpose, the intent, the meaning to begin every day by simultaneously opening our two eyes, to re-enter into consciousness and be apart of our environment and our world? Where does our motivation come from, and where should it come from?

I don’t believe that after the physiological termination of our bodies we are destined to either arrive at “the gates of Heaven” or the “fires of Hell.” I neither believe that Heaven, nor Hell, are physical locations just as Berlin, Africa, or Augusta St. in Staunton, VA are. If we lead the lives that we were “supposed to” or “ought to have done” and do, indeed, arrive at the Heaven exit just off the inter-galactic super-highway, what would we do all day? After we re-connect with our family members, our friends, and meet people from the great spectrum of history and time how would we satiate our existence? Would we mow Heaven’s lawn? Play darts? Attempt to have sex with Marilyn Monroe—it just doesn’t make logical sense to me.

If then, I now come to the conclusion that our lives are important for the present. I don’t think life is comparative to the college student working in the summer months so they may take a trip to Europe once they complete their Bachelor’s degree. I don’t think life, here and now, is to invest in a future award that will be “named later.” Albeit one could sculpt their lives, behaviors, and thoughts with this premise, I think they would encounter, at some point, an emptiness that would haunt.

So, the question still remains; why?

I am not a scientist. I know remarkably little of the world that surrounds me and the organic "world" that is in my body. If what scientists say is true, then human-kind has evolved from something not entirely of its present condition. The amoeba existed and over time the amoeba became the primate, and the primate became the human. From the beginnings of the human we have pursued the world around us (physical science) and the world within us (psychology). We have increased our knowledge, increased the efficiency of our brains, and still have not satiated our appetite for more of these.

Our existence is reliant on change. Even within the scope of humanity, look at how much has changed (evolved) with us from the past four thousand years. Fire as turned into electricity. Walking has turned to trains, to automobiles, to space flight. Humanity has done remarkable things in the brief time the species has inhabited Earth—both good and bad.

This is where I begin to find a “meaning.” One day (thousands of years from now? Millions?) humans will evolve from our present state. Just as the amoeba turned into the primate, and just as the primate turned into the human, humans will turn into our future. What if Love evolved as much as technology has done? What would the human mind be able to see and experience when fully initiated into the characteristics that associate the one Love? Have we seen glimpses of it already? Was Prince Siddhartha, and his Nirvana, a glimpse of what will one day come? Was Yeshua of Nazareth and his claiming that a “Kingdom of Heaven” resides within? Were the respected “Enlightened One” (the Buddha) and “Anointed One” (the Christ) possible figments of the eventual burgeoning change that will one day befall?

Quite possibly. Maybe even probably.

And it is here where I find meaning. I would rather further the inevitable change—not hinder it. I want to be the amoeba seeking to become a primate. I want to be the primate seeking to become a human. I want to be a human seeking to become what is destined to be. In “A Burnt-Out Case” Graham Greene writes, “I think of Christ as an amoeba who took the right turning. I want to be on the side of the progress which survives.”

The much more difficult task, and the one that both fills me with anxiety and excites me with unfathomable possibility, lies in its accomplishment.

I don’t want to be an amoeba.

Book review of "Voice of an Exile" by Nasr Abu Zaid with Esther R. Nelson

Is the Qur’an the literal Word of God revealed to Muhammad through the angel Gabriel? Islamists in power, and many Muslims of the current age, feel that this is so—it is the present orthodoxy within Islam. However, one notable exception is Nasr Abu Zaid. In his book co-authored with Esther R. Nelson Voice of an Exile: Reflections on Islam, Zaid feels that certain “… people resist looking at God’s Word as a document expressed in human language, thinking that understanding in such a way goes against belief or faith”(97). Nasr feels that “Language does not emerge from a vacuum. Language has a cultural, social, and political context. Human beings populate these contexts. Human beings, living throughout the world in specific places at specific times, leave their mark on language” (96). Islamic fundamentalism has always insisted that the Qur’an is God’s eternal, uncreated speech. Because it always existed it was never created and fundamentalists feel, thusly, that the text should be read literally and applied uniformly across time and place (Zaid and Nelson 3-4, italics mine). However, just as Bishop John Shelby Spong argues similarly for the interpretation of the New Testament Scriptures, Zaid feels that modernity should approach the Qur’an using the seventh-century context in which it was created in order to extrapolate meaning for the modern age. Zaid feels that the divine text became a human text at the moment it was revealed to Muhammad. How else could human beings understand it? Once it is in human form, a text becomes a book like any other. Religious texts are essentially linguistic texts. They belong to a specific culture and are produced within that historical setting. The Qur’an is a historical discourse—it has no fixed, intrinsic meaning (Zaid and Nelson 97). Yet, Zaid is not trying to debunk or make the Qur’an, Islam, or Muslims illegitimate. He states early in his book that “… I identify myself as a Muslim. I was born a Muslim, I was raised a Muslim, and I live as a Muslim. God willing, I will die a Muslim” (11). A major stance that Zaid takes issue with comes from state power that does not separate from religion. Zaid comments, “When the state identifies itself with a certain religion, folks who belong to another religious tradition inevitably are discriminated against. In addition, those folks who belong to the religion officially sanctioned by the state, but don’t hold orthodox views…become subject to persecution on the grounds of apostasy and heresy” (183).

It is on the grounds of apostasy and heresy that Zaid was forced into exile away from his beloved home of Egypt based on his ideas of how the Qur’an should be read and interpreted. Even though Zaid offered new insights and encouraged only debate, not allegiance, toward his ideas, the powerful in the current Islamic orthodoxy forced him to live in exile from his homeland. Zaid feels one should pursue religious texts through historical context and hermeneutics. By placing yourself within the specific time of any religious document you enable yourself to discover new insights that a literal, or “face value”, interpretation will not uncover. The foundation of any sacred writing is constructed, molded, and whose intentions reflect, around the society in which it was born. I feel that fundamentalists in Islam, and in any other religion, have a right to think, discuss, and preach how they feel. However, when Islamic fundamentalist powers censor anyone amongst “the ranks” by any and all means necessary they undermine the central theme of their Prophet, their Qur’an; the central theme of Nasr Abu Zaid—justice.

Poem

Here's a recent poem from my poetry workshop:



"Sura 54"

hammer and sickle
amongst the mouse democracy.
a sailor’s grave tattoo impregnated
in the memory of Mujahideen.

an osama bin laden
party hat

adorned by

politics lovers who frequently
spat

and just as the Soviet moon fell under
Afghanistan

the stature of Albert Pujols
compliments the candles Little Richard
will blow out on his
Captain America

vanilla
frosted


birthday cake

Washington Nationals Prospectus (as of october 2006)

As the inaugural season for the Washington Nationals drew to a close, many fans were filled with optimism. Although the first-year-Nats finished in last place in the NL East, their 81-81 record exceeded the expectations of most. As such, many viewed the 2006 club as a possible contender for the Wild Card, much as the 2005 team was up until the closing weeks of the season.

However, with the exception of a few players who engrossed fans with their play, this season was a disappointment.

One of the most exciting and hopeful pieces of news came off the field with MLB naming Ted Lerner, with his family and partners, as the autonomous owner of the Nationals. As such the team, which had been led through the dark under MLB ownership under the Expos/2005 Nats, had little to be hopeful for.

As GM of the Expos, Omar Minaya traded away young talent: Brandon Phillips, Grady Sizemore, and Jason Bay (amongst others). What was once a good farm system became barren under the financial limitations imposed on a club based in Montreal, Canada.

The inheritors of the Nationals were wisely aware of their new team’s limitations. President Stan Kasten, overseer of the Atlanta Braves success, expressed that “pumping” the MLB team with money will not make a long-term, consistent franchise. Instead, money will go towards a “building-up” of the franchise: personal, closer proximity of the AAA affiliate, the creation of a new A affiliate, etc.

What I would like to do is to glance around the diamond and look at what we might see in 2007 and beyond.

Starting Pitching: Starting pitching has hurt the Nationals most this season. Our starting squad has an ERA of 5.35 (second worst in front of the Kansas City Royals). No offense should have that burden.

With Livan Hernandez now in Arizona, our staff lacks a #1 starter. John Patterson will be back next year, as will Brian Lawrence (acquired in the Castilla trade with the Padres). Both Ramon Ortiz and Tony Armas Jr. are free agents after this year, whether or not they return will probably be based on how little money they will accept to return in light of disappointing years (5.40 and 5.22 ERA, respectively).

Those who have been called up from the minors throughout the season: Billy Traber (7.47 ERA), Mike O’Conner (4.72 ERA), and Shawn Hill (4.66 ERA) may still be given a shot to (re)prove themselves during Spring Training. The wonderful performance of Beltran Perez against the Braves recently also suggests that he will be considered for a starting role next season.

The “youngbloods” in the farms system: Colten Willems, Jhonny Nunez, Garret Mock, and Matt Chico (the latter two come from the Hernandez trade with Arizona) will probably not see consistent playing time until 2008.
Relief Pitching: This is one of the few upsides to the future team. With an improved Ryan Wagner, (from the eight-player trade with the Reds) who has changed mechanical foibles sustained in Cincinnati, the bullpen contains Jon Rauch, Saul Rivera, Roy Corcoran, Chris Schroder, Kevin Gryboski, Micah Bowie, Chad Cordero, and Luis Ayala. Rauch, Cordero, Ayala, and Wagner seem to be the more consistent relievers, but promising work by Rivera suggest that one of the better attributes of the club could also improve by next year.

Catcher: Brian Schneider has had a disappointing year. His average fluttered around .220-.230 for most of the season and his slugging percentage (.327) is below his 2005 performance (.409). However, since a post-game “blow-up” about a month or so back, he has brought his average back to .251. Most likely, this season was a “fluke” and we will probably see an improved and more consistent hitter next year.

Brandon Harper has become a promising back-up prospect. His numbers through thirty at-bats (.429 / .633 /.367) suggest consideration as a right-handed backup for the left-handed Schneider. He will most likely receive ample time to further prove himself in the spring.

Robert Fick, the primary backup catcher this season, seems to lack the defensive capabilities that Harper has. In addition, Fick is also a left-handed batter (Schneider usually sits when the team faces a southpaw—one would prefer to be able to send up a right-handed batter in his place, strengthening Harper as the lead candidate).

First Base: Nick Johnson leads the team in OBP (.430). This is his first year where he has not been side tailed with injuries, yielding quality numbers (23 homeruns, 77 RBI, 45 doubles, and 109 walks. His BB total is second only to Barry Bonds in the entire Major League and his 2B total makes him tied for seventh place in the entire Major League). Ideally, Johnson would serve offensive production better as the number two or three batter in the lineup with his high propensity to get on base and accumulate doubles. However, his SLG (.523) and AVG (.292) also make him a candidate to drive in runs, and not just comprise them.

Robert Fick can also play first base, which may be necessary should Johnson remain susceptible to injuries in 2007.

Middle Infield: This is somewhat problematic. The addition of Felipe Lopez, a young player with good batting attributes and speed, was an excellent acquisition. His OBP (.363) is the highest in his career. Lopez is not a “power-guy.” He needs to focus on improving his OBP further and strengthening his base-stealing skills. He very well could be our leadoff hitter in 2007.

Jose Vidro is a veteran of the Expos/Nationals organization. However, his aging knees have resulted in a poorer slugging percentage (under .400 for the first time since 1999) and a hampered range at second. His recent start at first-base suggests that the team might try to shop Vidro as a more flexible defensive player. In addition, his OBP and AVG (.345 and .286) are not poor numbers, which make his marketability slightly higher.

Cristian Guzman had a tremendously poor season last year (OBP / SLG / AVG = .260 /.314 /.219). In addition, Guzman is due to receive 4.2 million, making his marketability via trading very, very bleak. Because of Vidro’s relative healthiness, he is more marketable to trade despite his $7 million due next season, the last year of his contract.

If Guzman were to have a strong year next season, and it is only a possibility, but if so, he might kindle interest for a trade. This might be a way for the Nats to pick up additional young talent for a push for a strong, competitive team by 2008, or 2009 (which is Stan Kasten’s plan). This remains to be seen, however.

The signing of Dominican Esmailyn Gonzalez (16 years) will most likely trickle upwards from the farm system in 2008 or 2009, at the earliest.

Third Base: This is a no-brainer. Ryan Zimmerman leads all rookies in RBI (he will most likely surpass 100 by the season’s end) and is second in hits with runners in scoring position to David Wright of the Mets. His excellent glove and wisdom beyond his years (22 years) makes him a jewel of the organization. It would be foolish, and costly, for the organization to part with this player. With RISP Zimmerman is batting .311.

Outfield: Austin Kearns will most likely remain in RF. The baggage of Jose Guillen has most-likely soured management. In addition, Kearns is relatively young (will be 27 in 2007) and has shown sustained offensive improvement over the past two years.

I think it would be wise to try a batting order of 1) Felipe Lopez 2) Nick Johnson 3) Ryan Zimmerman 4) Austin Kearns

The trade to acquire Nook Logan does strengthen the outfield defensively. However, Logan’s offensive production does raise some concerns. Logan is not a power-hitter. He should utilize his great speed by improving his bunting and his OBP. When on base, he is a nuisance to pitchers. He needs to be on base more often.

I’m assuming that Alfonso Soriano will want about $12-15 million as a free agent. I will also assume that Stan Kasten, despite fan’s fondness for Alfonso, will choose to utilize the money that Soriano cost this year ($10 million) for other purposes (see introductory remarks).

This will leave a hole in LF. In 166 at-bats, Ryan Church has put up improved numbers over last year’s (.348 .453 .266). His power-potential makes me see him as a good number five batter. There are some defensive concerns (hence the trade for Logan in CF), but LF is a far less demanding position (hence Soriano in LF) and I think Church will perform well. In addition, there were reports of interested takers of Church before the September trade deadline. Church may be a very marketable player for an off-season trade.

Since being sent down to AAA, Marlon Byrd has posted good numbers (.363 / .465 / .271). Quite possibly he and Nook Logan will vie for the starting spot in CF next spring, with whoever loses the spot as the back-up outfielder.

Despite the poor performance (the Nationals are the fifth-worst team this year) the organization are in a better stance for the future then they were at the beginning of the 2006 season.

The hiring of Mike Rizzo as assistant GM will bring established scouting and organization to a team that needs it. The previous success of Stan Kasten in Atlanta should bring confidence to fans that we are in good, capable hands.

Over the next few years I believe that the team will improve greatly. It shall be immense fun to watch the process unfold.