We had time in class the other day to think about the most important thing Madame Eva van Outryve de Crommelynck tells Jason in the chapter "Solarium" of Black Swan Green. What I immediately thought of was the Madame's emphasis of truthfulness above anything else.
There are a few ways in which the Madame discusses the importance of focusing on the truth, not the least of which is related to Jason's identity. She tells Jason to focus less on hiding his true identity as a poet in fear of what others' impressions might be. What I gathered from this is that she not only thinks Jason is being deceiving (to others and himself) about his personality and identity by writing poetry under another name, but that the Madame also wants to tell Jason that you can never entirely predict how people will react to your actions, so you might as well be upfront about them. I think this advice is something Jason should really internalize because in the end, others' ideas about his poetry will not change the fact that Jason is a good writer. It is also evident throughout the novel that hiding the fact that he writes poetry doesn't make Jason's life perfect in the slightest, so I think the Madame's idea that masking your true identity is deceitful and pointless is something Jason needs to hear.
Another instance when the Madame emphasizes the importance of being true is when she asks Jason about the writers he is familiar with. Though she may come off as slightly harsh when criticizing the type of literature Jason reads, her message about being familiar with authors who write about what is real makes sense. On page 161, after Jason mentions that he likes reading fantasy, sci-fi, and Stephen King books, the Madame replies:
"'Fantasy'? Pffft! Listen to Ronald Reagan's homilies! 'Horror'? What of Vietnam, Afghanistan, South Africa? Idi Amin, Mao Tse-Tung, Pol Pot? Is not enough horror? I mean, who are your masters? Chekhov?"
She makes a pretty clear argument for why she doesn't see much importance in writing about what is untrue, like fantasy. The Madame doesn't think there is a need to make things up when there are already so many unbelievable, exciting, horrific, true things taking place in our world already. I agree with her idea that writing about what is true can often be more compelling than a completely invented story, and can have more of an impact on readers who can relate.
Lastly, the Madame's focus on what is true continues into her discussion of defining beauty. She tells Jason that you can't define a concept like beauty, so don't worry about trying to. Instead, just know that beauty is true and that it exists, and that's what's important. Similar to her point that Jason should accept his identity as a poet and stop hiding himself, the Madame's idea that simply knowing that something is true--without trying to define or change it--can be enough. Like the way beauty exists but cannot be clearly defined, Jason should know that he is a writer and not try to limit himself by being defined as something he isn't.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
Structure of "Bridle Path"
A couple of days ago in class we had time to write about and discuss the structure of the chapter "Bridle Path" in Black Swan Green. We talked about how Jason Taylor's journey to find the end of the path is very episodic; Jason faces many obstacles along the way, like being chased by Dobermans, witnessing the fight between Burch and Wilcox, and ending up on the lawn of the "Little Malvern Loonybin."
I think Jason's way of narrating these scenes is very reflective of his character. A number of people in classed raised the point that the chapter is similar in structure to Tolkien's The Hobbit, which makes sense when considering Jason's age and interests. Throughout Black Swan Green, we have seen Jason's perspective and quirks as a thirteen-year-old boy, including how he finds excitement in everyday things. Jason's "incursion" into his father's office is an obvious example of Jason's vivid imagination and adrenaline. On the second page of the novel, he writes:
"Dad's swivelly chair's a lot like the Millennium Falcon's laser tower. I blasted away at the skyful of Russian MiGs streaming over the Malverns. Soon tens of thousands of people between here and Cardiff owed me their lives. The glebe was littered with mangled fusilages and blackened wings. I'd shoot the Soviet airmen with tranquilizer darts as they pressed their ejector seats. Our marines'll mop them up. I'd refuse all medals. 'Thanks, but no thanks,' I'd tell Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan when Mum invited them in, 'I was just doing my job.'"
He goes on to describe his jump downstairs to answer the door as a "death-defying bound," emphasizing his mentality as a child: like many other kids, Jason at times exaggerates when he is storytelling, and little, unique things like jumping downstairs excite him. In addition to his imaginative language, Jason mentions the map of Middle-earth he has in his bedroom at the beginning of the chapter "Bridle Path." His interest in Tolkien's work and active imagination seem to influence how he narrates his own life, so to me it isn't very surprising that "Bridle Path" has elements of episodic, fantasy-style writing.
Another part of the structure of "Bridle Path" that stood out to me when I was reading it is that the various events that take place really flow together, without distinct transitions. Jason doesn't clearly explain exactly how much time has passed or how he gets from one place to another. For example, on page 77, after the scene of the fight, Jason moves on to being at the Christmas-tree plantation. After Dean says, "C'mon, Jason, better be off now," there is no description of what happens immediately after that. The next line of the novel just describes being at the Christmas-tree plantation.
These weak transitions made the chapter slightly confusing to me as a reader. I found myself wondering how much time passed between such scenes and what could have possibly transpired between them. These unclear parts of the chapter might reflect Jason's own perspective as a narrator too. Not only is he in an imaginative frame of mind, but he might also be confused about how the things took place. (The scene with the Dobermans and the time at the "Loonybin" are both very surreal, and made me wonder whether they actually took place.) In this way, the structure of "Bridle Path" is definitely a reflection of Jason's mindset and own potential confusion about the strange events of the day.
I think Jason's way of narrating these scenes is very reflective of his character. A number of people in classed raised the point that the chapter is similar in structure to Tolkien's The Hobbit, which makes sense when considering Jason's age and interests. Throughout Black Swan Green, we have seen Jason's perspective and quirks as a thirteen-year-old boy, including how he finds excitement in everyday things. Jason's "incursion" into his father's office is an obvious example of Jason's vivid imagination and adrenaline. On the second page of the novel, he writes:
"Dad's swivelly chair's a lot like the Millennium Falcon's laser tower. I blasted away at the skyful of Russian MiGs streaming over the Malverns. Soon tens of thousands of people between here and Cardiff owed me their lives. The glebe was littered with mangled fusilages and blackened wings. I'd shoot the Soviet airmen with tranquilizer darts as they pressed their ejector seats. Our marines'll mop them up. I'd refuse all medals. 'Thanks, but no thanks,' I'd tell Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan when Mum invited them in, 'I was just doing my job.'"
He goes on to describe his jump downstairs to answer the door as a "death-defying bound," emphasizing his mentality as a child: like many other kids, Jason at times exaggerates when he is storytelling, and little, unique things like jumping downstairs excite him. In addition to his imaginative language, Jason mentions the map of Middle-earth he has in his bedroom at the beginning of the chapter "Bridle Path." His interest in Tolkien's work and active imagination seem to influence how he narrates his own life, so to me it isn't very surprising that "Bridle Path" has elements of episodic, fantasy-style writing.
Another part of the structure of "Bridle Path" that stood out to me when I was reading it is that the various events that take place really flow together, without distinct transitions. Jason doesn't clearly explain exactly how much time has passed or how he gets from one place to another. For example, on page 77, after the scene of the fight, Jason moves on to being at the Christmas-tree plantation. After Dean says, "C'mon, Jason, better be off now," there is no description of what happens immediately after that. The next line of the novel just describes being at the Christmas-tree plantation.
These weak transitions made the chapter slightly confusing to me as a reader. I found myself wondering how much time passed between such scenes and what could have possibly transpired between them. These unclear parts of the chapter might reflect Jason's own perspective as a narrator too. Not only is he in an imaginative frame of mind, but he might also be confused about how the things took place. (The scene with the Dobermans and the time at the "Loonybin" are both very surreal, and made me wonder whether they actually took place.) In this way, the structure of "Bridle Path" is definitely a reflection of Jason's mindset and own potential confusion about the strange events of the day.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Sylvie as the Catalyst
There is a considerable shift in the lives of Ruth and Lucille once Sylvie arrives in Housekeeping. Sylvie is an interesting character for a number of reasons: she goes against the ordinary day-to-day life carried out by her mother, provides Ruth and Lucille with the ability to act freely as individuals, and tells Lucille and Ruth about their mother. Sylvie inspires a lot of change around the house, not the least of which is Lucille's decision to leave and ultimately never see her sister or aunt again.
It is immediately clear that Sylvie is unlike Lily and Nona when she enters the novel. In addition to her unusual way of dressing--wearing a gigantic, old coat over a much nicer dress, and not wearing gloves or boots in the extreme cold--Sylvie's attitude sets her apart from pretty much everyone else in Fingerbone. Not only does she disregard routines like taking care of the house or even eating regular meals, but she also seems to think very little about what is the best for the family. One example of this is when Ruth and Lucille skip school and see Sylvie walking out onto the bridge. It doesn't cross Sylvie's mind that she could fall from the bridge, and she doesn't think about the impact it would have on her nieces' lives if she did.
Sylvie's carefree, lenient attitude is what allows Ruth and Lucille to first be distinguished as individuals. Early in the book, Ruth and Lucille don't have much control over their situation and are forced to obey the rules set out by their grandmother and Lily and Nona. But when Sylvie becomes their guardian, they are put in a position where they can skip school if they want too, and Lucille especially isn't afraid to question Sylvie's authority. This change in their guardianship, along with their growing independence as adolescents, means that Ruth and Lucille have the liberty to express their differing beliefs more than they could before. While Ruth is often aligned with Sylvie's point of view and doesn't necessarily see Sylvie's quirkiness as a problem, Lucille's outgoing nature and desire to fit in with others in Fingerbone clashes with Sylvie's unorthodox personality. In this way, Sylvie's arrival in Housekeeping definitely sparks the distinction between Ruth and Lucille. It is hard to say whether or not Ruth and Lucille would end up going their separate ways if Sylvie hadn't come into their lives, but when she does, it is inevitable for them to continue acting as a single person.
It is immediately clear that Sylvie is unlike Lily and Nona when she enters the novel. In addition to her unusual way of dressing--wearing a gigantic, old coat over a much nicer dress, and not wearing gloves or boots in the extreme cold--Sylvie's attitude sets her apart from pretty much everyone else in Fingerbone. Not only does she disregard routines like taking care of the house or even eating regular meals, but she also seems to think very little about what is the best for the family. One example of this is when Ruth and Lucille skip school and see Sylvie walking out onto the bridge. It doesn't cross Sylvie's mind that she could fall from the bridge, and she doesn't think about the impact it would have on her nieces' lives if she did.
Sylvie's carefree, lenient attitude is what allows Ruth and Lucille to first be distinguished as individuals. Early in the book, Ruth and Lucille don't have much control over their situation and are forced to obey the rules set out by their grandmother and Lily and Nona. But when Sylvie becomes their guardian, they are put in a position where they can skip school if they want too, and Lucille especially isn't afraid to question Sylvie's authority. This change in their guardianship, along with their growing independence as adolescents, means that Ruth and Lucille have the liberty to express their differing beliefs more than they could before. While Ruth is often aligned with Sylvie's point of view and doesn't necessarily see Sylvie's quirkiness as a problem, Lucille's outgoing nature and desire to fit in with others in Fingerbone clashes with Sylvie's unorthodox personality. In this way, Sylvie's arrival in Housekeeping definitely sparks the distinction between Ruth and Lucille. It is hard to say whether or not Ruth and Lucille would end up going their separate ways if Sylvie hadn't come into their lives, but when she does, it is inevitable for them to continue acting as a single person.
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