Without War We Might Have Brains

     War is typically depicted one of two ways by the media: 1. Us as the "good" guys attacking "them" (the bad guys) so other people can have what we have or 2. Us butting into the affairs of others, causing lots of unnecessary damage for people who didn't want us there in the first place. With option 1 comes the idea that war takes young men who lack discipline and turn them into responsible killing machines who know how to take orders and properly handle authority, however option two comes with a much more negative reputation. Option two shows war as a means of one country overstepping its jurisdiction in order to force a way of life onto people who didn't ask for it, while wasting lives to do so.

     Opinions about the Vietnam War generally lean toward option 2, mostly because there was no "them' to fight, just a concept: communism; it's much harder to destroy an idea with heavy machinery than it is to kill a "them". But since all that artillery is out, and we took the time to train all those soldiers to destroy things, someone must get hurt or else it would all be a waste. In Full Metal Jacket, directed by Stanley Kubrick, Leonard Lawrence, nicknamed "Gomer Pyle" by his Sergeant, represents some of the damage Vietnam caused. Pyle is presented as an overweight, slaking, mess of a man, who is in no way fit to be a soldier. After being screamed at by the sergeant, beaten by his fellow trainees, and whipped into enough shape to pass the academy training and be promoted to a field soldier, Pyle has a mental breakdown and is found in the bathroom after lights out with a loaded M14 riffle. His squad leader attempts to calm him down peaceably, but the Sergeant comes in and orders Pyle to obey which triggers Pyle's inner murderer. Pyle first kills the Sergeant, then himself. 

     Vietnam didn't receive much back home support, however World War II was a whole different story. During World War II there was a very clear "us" and a very clear "them" so the soldiers had the American people's support, however that didn't make the mental decay that soldiers experienced any less merciless. In Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut, Billy Pilgrim is a skinny, awkward boy, also unfit to be a soldier. When he gets back from the war he has become "unstuck in time". He is unable to grip his own reality or have a sense of place in his life. 

     Slaughterhouse 5 and Full Metal Jacket both show the way war, in an attempt to get boys to grow up and become men, instead objectifies humans and deteriorates their minds. The idea of a perfect soldier: a killing machine who will follow orders blindly with a humanity so minute it sometimes can result in the mind wanting to get rid of itself (in Pyle's case, convincing himself to commit suicide). An irony in both Slaughterhouse 5 and Full Metal Jacket is that both Pyle and Pilgrim came into the military decent human beings, yet unfit soldiers and came out of it better soldiers unable to deal with humanity. Pyle's inability to cope with his changed self led to his suicide, while Pilgrim's inability to cope just leaves him with a lack of free will and a sense of hopelessness. So it goes. 

Pay Attention to Geography (AKA The Quiet Kid in the Back)

Reading chapters 19, Geography Matters…, and 25, Don’t Read with Your Eyes, of How to Read Literature like a Professor by Thomas C. Foster, reminded me of a story my 8^th grade English teacher told my class one day. The scene went as follows:

Characters

Mr. Farrar – An 8^th grade English teacher attempting to educate America’s youth one class at a time

Class – A class of ignorant 8^th grade English students (the real definition of ignorance i.e. a state of being uninformed)

Setting: 3^rd period in Mr. Farrar’s classroom.

FARRAR. One day a girl walking home from school finds a bible. She picks it up and starts flipping through it. Then the girl proceeds to put the book in his backpack and head home. For the next few nights after that the girl finds time to get away from everyone and everything and read it.

                FARRAR then sits back at his desk and proceeds to do little mundane tasks

CLASS. Is that it? Doesn’t seem like much of a story to us.

FARRAR. (Pleased they took the bait) What do you mean?

CLASS. It was just kind of lame and commonplace.

FARRAR. That’s where perspective comes into play. Show of hands, when I told the story how many of you imagined the girl as yourself or someone like you? An average American middle school student headed home finding this bible.

                CLASS raise their hands

FARRAR. There you go! Here in America, a Christian nation that promotes educational equality, this can be a normal situation with no consequence.

                CLASS still seems perplexed

FARRAR.  However, imagine if we were to move his story to a Middle Eastern nation. One in a time where the government enforces stringent religious control on its citizens along with laws against literacy in women. The stakes of that ordinary story have been bumped up to potentially a matter of life and death if she gets caught, yet the only thing that’s changed is the geography. This new location now gives you a completely different perspective of this tale of a girl and a bible. Now it’s a compelling story!

               

Obviously I probably paraphrased some parts because this all happened about 3½ years ago, but the main points were there. Up until that point, my sentiment towards geography as it pertains to literature was like that of a normal person in response to a quiet kid; they just kind of exist around you, but no special attention should be paid to them. However, just as you notice when the quiet kid goes on a random killing rampage and his/her presence is made know, when geography was thrust in my face like this, I couldn't help but pay attention to it. This lesson was the first time I really thought about the effect a change in setting could have on a literary work. He also managed to broaden the way I approached reading. All of us in the class, rather than asking for more context, assumed the story took place in the environment we experienced on a daily basis. I became more aware of searching for context when reading text. This also led me start researching authors in order to understand where books I read come from. Even the writer’s geography in his/her background influences the way they write. Not knowing an author’s history won’t be the difference in making a book good or bad, it could just make a good book even better.

Chapter 21: The Scar becomes a Mark of Greatness

     I’m sure pretty much everyone has seen (probably about 20 times over) or is at least familiar with “The Lion King,” but for those of you who have chosen not to crawl out of that rock you’ve been living under for the past 20 years here’s the gist:

     Simba, a lion prince is born a destined to become king of his father’s lion pride. Simba’s father, the current King at the time, Mufasa, has a jealous brother, Scar (I see Disney decided to throw subtlety out the window on this one), who wants to be king. Scar gets with some hyenas and plans to kill Mufasa and Simba so he can become King. Scar kills Mufasa and blames Simba, who then runs away from all his problems and life. Simba is told Scar sucks then comes back to take his pride. They fight, scar dies, and finishing the “circle of Life” can officially be checked off the to-do list.

     One lesson Disney movies are pretty consistent about teaching is the fact that physical difference means either greatness or great evil. Now a movie given a lot less credit than it deserves is “The Lion King 2: Simba’s Pride.” Here’s that movie in a nut shell—then I’ll get back to the point, I promise:

     Simba has a daughter named Kiara. Scar picks an heir named Kovu. They aren’t supposed to meet or interact, nevertheless they do (big surprise). And on top of that, they fall in love, or as the movie puts it “Upendi.” Kovu’s mother feels betrayed by her son for loving the enemy and attacks him. Ironically enough this leaves him with a scar. Simba banishes him because they are enemies. In the end it all turns out to be a big misunderstanding and love brings all the lions together for a happy ending. 

     I’m officially done digressing, and to those of you who already knew those stories you are welcome for this opportunity to relive their greatness (because those tales never ever get old). Now the purpose of my telling these was to show that both times a scar symbolized an ability to stand out and be different, either for better or for worse. In the first Lion King, not only Scar’s name, but the scar on his face to match it, marked him with greatness. Wanting to kill your only brother and his only son (therefore by default, your only nephew) is not just an everyday desire. He had great potential for wickedness. On the flip side, in “The Lion King 2: Simba’s Pride” a scar turns into a new symbol of greatness. Originally Kovu is made to believe that the scar he had made him just like Scar, and everyone in his life believed the same thing, very explicitly described in the song “Not One of Us.” All of the animals in Pride Rock shame him for not only being different, but being like a man known for great wickedness. At this point Kovu determines the scar will be a reminder he will never be like Scar, instead he will be a lion that bring great peace between the prides and across the land.  

Who Died and Made You King?

How to Read Literature Like A Professor: Chapter 4

Who died and made the sonnet king of the poetic world? I'm sure epics, limericks, elegies, haikus, oulipos, acrostic, villanelles, and every other poetic form that hasn't managed to stick around effectively would love to know the secret. That question was nagging at my mind the whole time I was reading the fourth chapter of How To Read Literature Like A Professor by Thomas C. Foster. What was so special about this style that helped it stick around? The answer dawned on me through music. As I attempted to figure out what to write this blog post about, I also happened to be listening to the Bach Concerto for two violins in D minor, more commonly known as the Bach Double, and trying to memorize my lines for a production of Comedy of Errors (yes, the one by Shakespeare). Unable to think of anything, my mind began to drift away into the music.

Bach begins the piece with the second violin making a statement: the first four measures of the piece. Then the first violin comes back with a related statement: the exact same phrase, just a perfect 4th higher. Then there is a shift. The two play alternating variations of a new idea for the next 8 measures. Then they take two measures to finish that theme before starting a new statement. All of that sounded extremely familiar.

The first quatrain of a Shakespearean sonnet makes a statement. The next makes a closely related statement. The third starts a slightly new idea. Then the final couplet ties it all together.

That's when I began to envision parallels between music and poetry. Every word is a note. Every line a measure. And every phrase a quatrain. However, it wasn't just these general parallels, Bach had practically mimicked the rhyme scheme of a sonnet (a Shakespearean one to be exact). But isn't that how things usually happen; the things going on in your life all seem to be related on some deeper level.

But still the question hadn't been answered yet. Why have sonnets and music (especially classical), lasted all this time? Then I was reminded of something my director had said to the cast before we read through the script. She explained why iambic pentameter is not only persuasive, but also natural.

The average human can only comprehend and process about 10 syllables at a time before they get overloaded and tune out. The purpose of a strong/soft syllable pattern is to imitate a heartbeat. That was the key. Sonnets are a manifestation of our nature on a quintessential level. The words become the heartbeat to the life, which creates new meaning. Not to mention, humans also identify well with symmetry and uniformity. The fact that 14 lines of rhyming text is not only symmetric in the sense that every line ends fairly uniformly when it comes to pronunciation, but also when just glancing at it there is a pleasant symmetry to the square it creates. Symmetry instills in us a sense of balance, and that balance translates to being able to easily internalize the text. Those are the reasons why Shakespeare's writings, as imperfect and filled with plot holes as they are, music, even ancient classical music that wasn't always appreciated at the time in which it was written, and sonnets, kings of the world of poetry and declared by English professors to be the only relevant poetic form, have been maintained throughout the centuries, flaws and all.