Letter To the Leaves: You Don't Need a Masters to Understand This

My Fellow Contributors,

I am graduating in less than a week. I think it is finally sinking in that I will no longer be an English-centered undergrad. This is a bit disheartening but I have a theory. My theory is that I don't need to be an English grad student to further my understanding of Literature. I have this crazy idea that I over these past five years I have been trained to read, analyze and think critically about any piece of literature that is put in front of me.

And it's this idea I want to explore in this blog.

But before I begin I have a question for you.

What added value does reading a book in a classroom give you?

If you take away the other students, many of whom have misinterpreted the text to begin with, and the professor, who if he or she is any good will undoubtedly remain silent and let you struggle through the material on your own, what are you left with?

Yourself and the book.

And this is exactly my point. One thing about English, which sets it apart from other majors is that you don't need someone over your shoulder explaining the importance of this symbol or that. Now it should be noted that of course, someone who is practicing English and reading texts on a daily basis will be better at it than someone who is not putting in as much time. And it does help to have a tour guide. Who helps you to pick out the books you should read, tells you which aspects you should look out for and who provides accountability. Also you need to be trained. You need to have the right tools in order to complete the job.

But after four years of English classes, I don't need a tour guide. I can venture out on my own and find my own enlightenment through books just like countless others. And so can you (and when in doubt claim Reader Response).

So even though I am going to be studying law next year, I am still going to be studying literature and learning and growing as an artist. I may not have a master's at the end of it, or a Ph.d (although a Ph.d in American Literature is on the to-do list), but I will have that knowledge. I will earn those merit badges you get after reading a work from the literary cannon.

This pursuit is further made possible because of the internet. Rather than having to go to a professor to put a particular image in context, a quick Google search and a peruse of the hits will give me the answers I need.

I guess this blog seemingly is just a long-winded denial of the claim that learning stops once you have a degree.

Because, at least for me, the most important thing college taught me wasn't anything in a book. But how to get knowledge out of a book and convey that clearly and confidently.

The books will always be there. Just be driven enough to read them. Stay on top of yourself. There is no reason why you can't have the knowledge people go to grad school for. No reason why you can't understand civil war poetry. No reason why you can continue your love for literature and pursue other interests.

English is not physics (although many of us would have you believe that). It's just a few lines on a page which put pictures in your head.

So I challenge you to go out there read valuable books and teach yourself the wisdom in words.


As Always

Undoubtedly Yours,

Bermuda the Man

Aristotle is Dead...But I Think We All Knew That

Later today I'll be meeting up with Rainamoinen to do some writing. I bring this up because we're writing for a purpose. We're going to be drafting a story for what might one day be a video game. Yes, nerdy -- I know, but bear with me.

We're doing this because we've noticed a trend in the video game market. As Rainamoinen has pointed out time after time, especially in a few of his earlier blogs, the video game landscape is drastically changing. What once relied on story-line and characterization has now morphed into a different sort of beast -- a best relying primarily on aesthetic and cosmetic value. Now, don't get me wrong -- I'm the first guy to jump at a good aesthetic. I think, as a writer, I'm quick to comment on the role a certain aesthetic plays in an overarching story; aesthetic, after all, is a conscious choice one makes in order to implicitly add to a narrative. However, aesthetic is a mode - a vehicle, if you will. Aesthetic cannot carry the weight of artistic value, alone. Aesthetic needs to be married to a rich, lustrous text in order to play a significant role in any form of writing, multi-modal or not.

This is something that has been bugging me lately -- this strange shift in thinking where story and character are secondary to the way something looks. I understand that the "attention span" of Americans has become somewhat shorter, but one must consider the people who still need substance in order to enjoy a text. This trend extends past video games, I'm afraid, and now the literary landscape of modern America has, too, shifted towards more shallow works. If one is not looking for valueable, artistic merit such as the works of small literary magazines, the readily available contemporary literature -- this is a sweeping generalization, I know -- tends to be works like Twilight or Clive Cussler novels. Rarely do I see anything of substance on the top 10 lists in bookstores such as Barnes & Noble.

Before this becomes a rant, though, I'll stop myself. I want to know what you all think about the declination of values in literature. Why has popular literature become so empty? Why don't we see great works on the best-seller lists? I know the answer is not simple, but I think it's something worth addressing. Apparently, Aristotle is dead -- figuratively, I mean. How could this shit have happened? Let me know your thoughts, people.

Regards,

JF

Not a Pot to Piss in or a Window to Throw it Outta!

Good evening everyone, I hope you are enjoying the rousing discussions which have been so thoughtfully prepared by all of us here at the AFLM family. Now, I have promised you concision, and in the spirit of faithfulness I am going to make sure I give you concision. And as furthering this enjoyable, yet admittedly gratuitous, introduction belies this promise, I will, now, simply vault into the matter at hand.

I was having a discussion with a friend today about writing and publishing (go figure) and he asked me whether it would be more advantageous for his career to write something widely marketable and pleasing instead of what most English majors aspire to write, the MAGNUM OPUS OF ARTISTIC ENDEAVOR! We discussed this for the better part of two hours, volleying back and forth the pros and cons of each potential decision and ended up lousy with hypotheticals. And that is why this question has made it to all of you good people. If a writer was to write something mass-marketable and tasty, as it were, which would lend to a higher chance of publication into novel, screenplay, etc., equaling a great deal of money on his part, is it artistically ethical to do so, or should this person continue to try and sell his esoteric opus? I think it is something interesting to think about, if only for the "thought experiment" nature of it. Now, understand that when I say "mass-marketable", I mean blithering trash. Also, I know some of you will say, can't the two be accomplished as one? Can't art be mass-marketable? Well, seeing as certain seemingly erroneous circumstances make it impossible to give a definitive no, I will say its not likely. Be honest with yourself, as much as you may love Ulysses, Song of Myself, As I Lay Dying, or The Decameron, these works will never be as grotesquely profitable as . . . dare I say it . . . Twilight, or any other revolting heap of worthlessness your mind can dredge up which would serve as ample example of a sideshow monstrosity which has garnered way too much profit for its putrid, hell hound charlatan of an "author."

So, there you have it, my thought provoking gift to you. I hope everyone gives this some thought, or, perhaps, if you are reading this, stunned by its elementary nature, please be so kind as to respond and educate the rest of us.

Thoughtfully,

Eric W. Strege

Maybe there is a reason no man has ever gone there before . . .

Oh miserable man that I am! Why during this time of relaxation am I plagued with thoughts of feminism? I suppose it has something to do with my recent preoccupation with Star Trek (and all of its incarnations). Without boring everyone by enumerating the intricacies of plot and ample characterization that can be found in said series, movies, etc., it is irrefutably evident that the Star Trek franchise is, and has been, very much concerned with depicting strong female characters. This, of course, got me to thinking about strong female characters in literature, and since the last lit. course I took was medieval, I thought it appropriate to re-investigate some oldie-but-goodies and compose a bit of an analysis of their female characters. So, here you go . . . the first essay regarding feminism fueled by Star Trek and too much time.


Controversies over the implications of engendered societal constraints as they encroach on the freedoms and liberties of the female sex have remained a pivotal theme of pre-eminent authors through the ages of literary enlightenment. These themes, though superlative to the judicious treatment of females, have not reserved all that was intended by the elucidation of such differences. A time of great gender bias was the period colloquially known as the Dark Ages, or – with the intent of having a greater sensibility towards those who take offence to such superfluous trivialities – the Middle English period. A greater understanding of social roles available to women during, and the expectations thrust upon them, can be had by a close examination of texts having their genesis in or before these times. Formally, a subsequent discussion of such, and other, topics is to be aided by the analysis of such texts as: The Second Play of the Shepherds, The Wife of Bath’s Prologue, and Beowulf.
An un-shirking reality to women of such times, a reality which has not been entirely absolved even throughout the sequence of generations, is the social constraint of sexism, as is exercised through male domination and marital status. Geoffrey Chaucer, a prominent fourteenth century writer, among other things, adroitly addressed such marital follies in his revered tale, The Wife of Bath, namely, its prologue. Common age of consent for females to marry at the time, was twelve years old, an age which hardly left the decision of choosing a mate to the persons marrying, but rather to the parents or guardians. As one begins the reading of the prologue, it is quickly learned that the focal character, Dame Alison, was of that age when she first wed, “To speke of that is in marriage: for lordinges, sith I was twelf yeer was of age. . .” The assertion can then be made that marriage was done out of social strictures and possible economic possibility, and not out of genuine affection. This near futility of marriage, with the nature of demands, adjustments and responsibilities involved in marriage calling upon one to manifest maturity and balance, along with love, clearly provides evidence to the ineffectiveness of such marriages. Furthermore, Dame Alison’s slew of five husbands attests to the congenital flaws of said social and marital procedures, lending a great deal to the objective and marginalized treatment of women.
Ironically, at such times, the various religious sects, claiming to share biblical standards with common persons, through the bastardization of biblical text, only reinforced the social prejudices against women at the time. The common perception of authority was that husbands deserved control of the wife because he controls the state, a disgustingly simplified version of principals set in the book of Ephesians 5: 24, 25, where it states, “In fact, as the congregation is in subjection to the Christ, so let wives be to their husbands in everything. Husbands, continue loving your wives, just as the Christ also loved the congregation and delivered up himself for it.” As can be noted by a juxtaposition of the original text, and its lopsided interpretation by religious officials of the day, the original text was wrongly interpreted to make husbands authoritarians and rulers over their wives, instead of loving providers and family heads. It is worth noting that Chaucer was aware of such religious encroachments, and uses Dame Alison as mediator between author and religious beliefs, when she justifies her actions of marrying multiple men by looking toward the biblical example of King Solomon and his litany of wives, "wyves mo than oon.” Chaucer further uses Alison to turn religious perception on its ear, by making her the dominant one in the relationships, creating a severe tongue in cheek to all of its readers.
The issue of marital imperfection and its stranglehold on Middle English women is also poignantly if not subliminally discussed, in the anonymously authored The Second Play of the Shepherds. In stark contrast to Chaucer’s revolt against misogyny and gender limitations, through the depiction of Alison, the strong willed prurient, The Second Play of the Shepherds, an overtly religious piece, depicts the near “poster child” of Middle English women, that is to say, obedient and submissive. “In my cradle abide. Let me alone, and I shall lyg beside in childbed and groan.” This line, taken from a period of ascending tension between characters, is voiced by Uxor, the wife of Mak, a local thief who has stolen a lamb from a band of pastors. Upon near discovery, Uxor consents to help her husband deceive the pastors by pretending to be in the rigors of labor. This instance though superficially unremarkable, attests to the complete capitulation of the wife to her husband. Furthermore, this piece comments on the expectations of females to produce offspring; though not a direct depiction of the birthing process, Uxor nevertheless treats the situation with the utmost tact, displaying inherent nurturing qualities that a mother should embody. “I shall swaddle him right in my cradle.” Again, this quotation, if not the entire piece, comments strongly on the expectation of women to fill the role of mother and caregiver to her husband’s children, culminating in a literary character who is expectedly dull and lacking dimension. The implications of this text, being observed as a religious teaching tool to reach persons unable to attain books or regular publications, beautifully contrasts with the secular work of Chaucer by showing the stereotypical life of a common woman as is perceived through the lens of a religious writer, as opposed to the near fanciful indulgences of an upper class woman. Therefore, it can be noted that the more distinguished a person is socially and economically, the more license they have to live promiscuously.
As opposed to the previously discussed works, which in them can be found female prominent female characters, despite their depiction, the following work nearly eliminates the necessity of women entirely. Beowulf an anonymously written, anonymously compiled and anonymously published article of Saxon epic poetry focalizes on the hero Beowulf as he conquers various antagonists, written from the male perspective. The female character, known as Grendel’s mother, in fact is referred to many times as inhuman, the offspring of Cain, a monstrous entity, addressed only with the faintest of female humanity, “that swamp-thing from hell, the tarn hag.” The significance of the most prominent “female” symbol in the piece being depicted as such, resolutely displays the male dominated society in which the tale was written and is concentrated. The subsequent grappling of Beowulf and Grendel’s mother symbolically reinforces the prototypical patriarchal beliefs of male domination, and its begrudging acknowledgement of the possibility of feminine uprising; a thought that is antithetical to Chaucer’s sensitivity to feminine competency as is stated in The Wife of Bath’s Tale, “I putte me in youre wise governaunce: Cheseth youreself which may be most plesaunce and most honour to you and me also.” Contrarily to Beowulf, wherein feminine power is cut down mercilessly because of the character’s lack of traditional and appropriate feminine traits, Chaucer, in this tale, validates the competency of women and their ability to govern their lives with the sophistication and confidence which would classically only be characterized by masculinity.
Thusly, through the contrasting depictions of self actualized female symbols, religiously stereotypic pacifists and classification bending female incarnations, the definition of femininity is broadened, and the constraints and expectations of socially antiquated beliefs upon women become immaterial, as, yet again, the ceaseless evolution of both literature and society become enlightened.

Phew! I'm sure that was quite tedious for everyone - and not nearly as fun to read as one of Ryan's blogs - but I've come to accept such things. Maybe I can be as interesting when I get an Asian girlfriend.

Also, I know this is going to sound unbelievably nerdy, and I'm sure that if anyone comments, it will be Alli with a textual guffaw, but its okay. I am sending out a call for all Trekkie readers of A Few Lines Mag. to post their thoughts in regards to the literary merit of Star Trek. What about the franchise has lent to its indelible mark on people everywhere. If this can be narrowed down, would this "thing" be universally transferable to all forms of literature? Can there be a quantifiable nature to the success of art? Am I losing my mind? Your thoughts and more are welcome as comments on this blog!

Humanly, Eric W. Strege

Our second choice was A Few Marx Magazine . . .

Hello, All. I have decided I am feeling contradictory today, and find it only appropriate to aim some of this disagreeableness at myself. Yes, today is a day for contradiction, and that is why I will be presenting a counter-point to my very first blog. For all of you who haven't read my first blog (I can't imagine anyone who could resist) I discuss Roland Barthes theory of Killing the author in order for a Work's true potential to be maximized. Bearing that in mind, today I will present you with Karl Marx's views. A bit drastic, you might say? A bit narcissistic, you say? You're damn right! Chalk it up to an ego the size of a cirrhotic liver . . . and 24 hr. access to a shelf of Lit. Theory books.

As usual I have composed a little ditty for you regarding Peter Barry's articles on Marxist Theory. Enjoy.

Peter Barry’s exposition of Marxist beliefs and their subsequent involvement in the formation of a socially philosophical category of literary theory – in spite of its intentional and necessary concision – nimbly and ambitiously affronts the socially recognized acceptance of Romanticism as the theory predominantly observed by artists, that is, the acceptance – though usually accepted unwittingly by an uneducated populous – of the stereotypically Wordsworthian conception of art as “recollected in tranquility” by means of an “autonomous ‘inspired’ individual whose ‘genius’ and creative imagination enables him to bring forth original and timeless works of art.”(Barry 152) As can be seen from the aforementioned quote, Barry deliberately scare-quotes inspired and genius to draw the reader’s attention to the doubtfulness and subjectivity of genius, and the incongruous nature of inspiration, attesting the ascension to literary prominence not on a romanticized conception of Muses, but rather upon years of unwavering political awareness. Also, palpable is the mocking overtone established by the scare-quotes, inauspiciously criticizing any who subscribe to the existence of sovereign brilliance. Barry further illuminates the Marxist belief that – derivative of Marxist political views – critics of such influence view literature as a creative account of the succession of powers through various social classes and institutions. Likewise, just as works are constructed by social contexts, authors too are constantly influenced by socio – economic and political views, the unfortunate, despotic existence of such things materializing in, not only the context of such works, but also in formal aspects of the writing.
Barry unifies Marxist criticism with Formalism by offering the thought that stylistic decisions on the part of the author might be symbolically suggestive of the author’s national political state, “. . . shared definitions and regularities of grammar both reflect and help to constitute a well – ordered political state.” (Barry 152)
Though Marxist beliefs dictate the effects of social contexts on the author, and his work, it is made clear that said social contexts do not limit the author’s work from taking on various interpretations, Margaret Harkness, a Marxist critic and Socialist states, “The more the opinions of the author remain hidden the better the work of art.” Therefore, regardless of Marxist literature’s preoccupation with the upheld integrity of the author’s ideology, the likelihood of that author’s work of art containing political elements of which the author is unaware is escalated by the encouraged authorial ambiguity among Marxist texts.

I hope this blog has been as enjoyable of a read as it was to compose. I also hope that these blogs - either mine, or my fellow staff members - are contributing to the lexicon of literary discussion topics you are undoubtedly storing up for some eminent cocktail party.

As a concluding note, I am going to "plug" Rainamoinen's blog, in which he discusses the literary potential of Video Games! Its compelling, its something near and dear to my own fond childhood memories, and plus I'm telling you to! So check it out and maybe the next time you're playing pac man, you can scoff at its deep-seated chauvinism.


With All Due Respect,

Eric W. Strege

Sorry Arthur C. Clarke, Homer was there first . . . Kinda . . . Well not really, but it doesn't matter . . . Does it?

Hello, once again, my loyal readers and literary appreciators, today I have a good one for you. I have pulled myself away from a stack of books I'm sure Emma Lazarus would have a word or two for, and found the glorious time to reconvene with you. I have been thinking quite a bit about how some authors are deified in the minds of some readers as members of an almost supernatural pantheon of writers, and, to put it bluntly, it disgusts me. Now I'm not saying its wrong to have a favorite, or even a number of favorite writers who inspire you or blah blah blah, I'm just asking people to question why these certain writers are or should or should not be immortalized. Specifically, I am thinking of Homer, a name near and dear to every reader from sixth grade on up. . . except to one E.W. Strege. Yep, you guessed it, a literary rant is on the way so batten down the hatches, Put beeswax in your ear, and for God's sake don't eat the lotus root, because we're a long way from Ithaca on today's blog. God's speed, and I hope to see you on the other side.

***As I sit and meditate ever so pensively next to the belching stacks of Taco Bell’s deep fryers, it occurs to me that a certain amount of hypocrisy exists between the way we (contemporary appreciators and scholars of literature) deem authors “worthy” of positive attention and adoration. The general consensus amongst my peers – at least the ones to whom I have spoken – has been that The Odyssey is a retelling of a tale through a textual medium. I both validate and understand this view, but am still puzzled as to why we view Homer as a canonical writer worthy of our attention, seeing as all he did was transcribe a common tale without any remarkable attention to poetic form. On the other hand, Virgil adapted a tale and expressed it quite sophisticatedly with great poetic erudition. I hope this is not coming across too cynical, but if I were to write down the story of Star Wars with the occasional superficial change here and there, I am not a brilliant writer because I am “ripping” off Star Wars, I am not a genius, George Lucas is. Likewise, just because the enigma we know as “Homer” wrote down the Odyssey, it doesn’t change the fact that the true genius stems from the originator of the tale, who is probably some nameless, faceless, Greek who lived ages even before “Homer”. I want to be put on record as saying that I, by no means, mean any disrespect to anyone who adores Homer, or even to Homer himself, I aim to merely develop an interesting topic for discussion which will, with any luck, help to elucidate some of the deeply important – if not a bit too philosophical – issues in literature. ***

Okay, there you have it folks, my brief musings on Homer fueled by burnt coffee and a dish which had altogether too many tortillas involved.

I most earnestly implore you to comment, discuss, and actively participate in the dialogue we here at AFLM tirelessly endeavor to initiate. Many thanks to all who have been commenting on my blogs, I deeply appreciate your time and attention to my work and hope that your interest continues in what I am sure will be a wonderfully colorful exploration of literary issues.

One more thing (I'm curious to see if this works) I am currently taking requests for blog topics by you, the readers! I am always trying to discuss things that are viewed as thought provoking by myself and others, and what better way to do it than answer directly to the people for whom I am writing . So, If you have any recommendations, leave them as a comment in the designated space directly under this blog and I will address them in the order they are received.


With all due respect,

Eric W. Strege