Tuesday, October 30th, 2012
Truth and Audience
by Liam Kelly
The ethics
of non-fiction writing is quite a polarizing topic and when combined with a
political agenda, seems arbitrary.
Non-fiction is already balancing neatly between what is true and false, thus
it’s the moments of truth that are revealed which dictate a more profound
message. But it is unfair to say that
the moments of truth that the author chooses to reveal are their only means of
expression. Furthermore, the idea that a
non-fiction essay can be either true or false is such an absolute lens. It is a lens that isn’t present in other
mediums of art; a world that is defined by expression and subjectivity. John
Lane’s single complaint about James Frey’s “A Million Little Pieces” touches
upon this idea by stating that, “the James Frey mess is important as an
argument about style” (feeling blue,
seeing red; 334).
This
blurring of truth and falsity within non-fiction only seems ethical when
considering the “personal essay”. When
one begins stepping into the political arena, the ethics become a much more prominent
demand. This enhanced sensitivity derives
from the scope of audience. This means
two things; when writing political anything (poetry, non-fiction, etc…) one
must consider the readers and second, one must consider the intentions of the
piece. Furthermore, it is the synergy of
these two points that heighten the importance of the ethics of writing.
I say that
the audience must be considered more so than a “personal essay” when writing a
political piece, because it uses art as a tool rather than simply art for art’s
sake. Consider speeches by any political
leader. Certainly they have content and
substance (we hope) and discuss many pressing topics, but there isn’t a sense
of objectivity when they speak. Think of
Obama’s abilities as a speaker; the words he chooses appeal to an intellectual
voter. Yet how much of what he says is
entirely true? Certainly the words he’s
choosing have more to say than simply the facts. This moment, in which a speech appeals to
more than the facts, is art. So the real
question no arises, how much art do we want in our non-fiction? At what point will a politician become a
liar? We want our authors to lie a bit
more and our politicians to tell a bit more truth.
Secondly
the intention of the piece can certainly draw readers to be more skeptical of
the work or less so. Imagine reading an
essay on communism; it is self-proclaiming and providing “facts” about why this
particular form of government is the most effective. A democratic reader would have dismissed the
article even before getting past the first paragraph, let alone determine the
validity of the article. A communist
leader on the other hand reads hungrily, lapping up confirmation in his
political sway. The former reader
skeptically reads and debates the legitimacy of every idea while the latter comfortably
reaffirms himself. The former resists
while the latter revels. Yet the piece
remains the same. The truths stand
objectively and unwavering to both readers.
The subject matter either provokes skepticism in one reader and
confirmation to another.
Politics
should be a matter of function while creative writing should be a matter of
entertainment. It is this distinction
that one must grapple with when determining the how much truth and falsity
should be in either realm.
Tuesday, October 16th, 2012
From the Persian Gulf Oasis to Americanization
by Clintnetta Lewis
"Poem for a Persian Singer" is a poem by Matthew Zapruder that focuses on the experience of a person, presumptively of Persian descent, receiving a compact disc (CD) of songs from a female Persian singer. The poem opens with the narrator’s emotional reaction when first opening the package with the CD inside of it: "when I held the envelope full of music my friend had sent I knew the time a little harmless loneliness would guide my hand holding the circular polycarbonate plastic disc (Lines 1-9)." It appears that the recipient, the narrator, of the CD wants to be alone with the music in order to fully comprehend and feel the underlying message the singer intends to exhibit in the songs. The poet chronicles that the voice of the singer provokes nostalgic thoughts and images that are compared to "ancient canyons only sunlight has ever known" as "some time passes (Lines 17-19).
As the narrator continues listening to the music in his or her kitchen "while holding a broom", one of the songs concludes and another begins with a word that sounds like "glacier" to the poet (lines 25, 31). At this point, it is revealed that the poet's previous characterization of the singer's voice as a provocative tool is fundamentally symbolic of the importance and deterioration of the former and latter's Persian culture that once dominated human history during the reign of the Achaemenid Persian Empire 550-330 B.C based on the syntactical and connotative meaning and placement of the word "glacier (line 31)." The use of the word "glacier" acts as a double entendre. Early Persian civilization experienced a halt in the evolution of the Persian race when a nearby glacier depleted, flooding the Persian Gulf apx. 12,000-8,000 years ago (line 31). The Persian Gulf Oasis was said to had been home to the earliest human civilizations next to Africa prior to the flooding of the Oasis inlands. "Glacier" acts as a word that also insinuates disruption or 'depletion' of the progression and continuance of Persian culture and power in human society in a geographical, social, and political context in modern times (line 31).
The poem is written in a non-Persian tongue but in Modern English which implies the native language often associated with the speaker's Persian culture is no longer the common dialect of the Pan-Persian masses; language is often considered an aspect of culture and its power. The assimilation of the speaker’s language infers the deterioration of his or her ancestors native tongue in modern day society, that is now dominated by the English language. Throughout the entire poem, the speaker never reveals a single word that the singer verbalizes. Instead, the poem continues verse in the English language and the song playing is described to portray how one must feel "when something important does not happen", foreshadowing the speaker's personal tribute to his or her ‘unacknowledged’ Persian kinsman and ancestors historical activity in present day times. The poem strays off tangent from direct interpretation of the effects being caused by the singer's song and delivers a personal account that reflects the narrator’s personal view of the matters associated with the decay of Persian culture. Lines 46-59 read:
I cannot imagine what it is like for those who knew they must stand together thinking for too long we have waited for fear which is not a guest to leave they might shoot is but we still stay here in the street until we all at last older sisters to each other.
The previous lines suggest that the poet uses the music of the Persian singer to highlight cyclic disruption that the once dominant Persian race and culture has experienced overtime and continues to experience today in the Iranian territory during the expansion of capitalism and Americanization. Music acts a provocative sentimental tool that urges the poet to analyze and esteem the rebellious actions against the emergence of globalization and geographical depletion of the individual's Persian predecessors. Through the listening and contemplation of cultural music the poet is able to feel and interpret the once pleasurable and powerful aspects of Persian history during past and present times. Although the poet characterizes the Persian predecessors in high respect, it is implied that the narrator has submitted or assimilated to the prominence of present day Western authority and culture based on the poet’s inability to "imagine" rebelling against the latter with the former and its present day followers fighting the war 1980's Iraq-Iran War or against U.S. threats in the Persian Gulf (46). Participation with those who "stand together" and have "waited for fear which is not a guest to leave until they are older sisters to each other" seems likes a foreign activity to the speaker (48, 50-59). The lines referenced suggest that the speaker does not actively or physically experience the effects of the War on Terror in the Persian Gulf. Only when listening to Persian music does the narrator experience a connection to aspects and issues associated with Persian culture and history; an emotional and mental response opposed to a physical one is exhibited.
The speaker figuratively admits to not following the social, cultural and political activities generally associated with his or her Persian culture possibly due: to the ineffectiveness of its regimes and linguistics, his or her geographical location, citizenship, or place of birth differing from the narrator's ancestors and peers. Instead the speaker experiences a 'Virtual War on Terror' in modern day times contrary to the actual War on Terror that instills physical and mental fear into those who are non-submissive or assimilated to the social, economical, and political superiors in modern global society. The narrator uses the 'language' of the latter to ensure personal individual stability in a time where marginalized groups of people are controlled by fear or individuality instead of intellectual and creative collective activity. The syntactical structure of the poem also implies a decay in the power of cultural collectivism to the rise of individuality, a characteristic often associated with capitalism, democracy, Western culture, and Americanization.
A Reaction to Tohoku
by Gabriela Barcenas
A Reaction to Tohoku
by Gabriela Barcenas
Around three in the morning, I completed a seven page paper and decided to grab a snack before I reviewed and revised my essay. As I jumped from my perch, I felt the earth shift under me, and watched as the water on my bedside table quivered before coming to a calm still. Curious, I did what many in my generation would have; I opened my Facebook and Twitter accounts. Amid the various comments from friends about our local quake, I found accounts about a particularly violent earthquake in Japan. Over the next few hours, concern evolved into fear as, amid the rising death toll and the subsequent tsunami, reports of a failing nuclear power plant entered our attention. I am, of course, referring to damage sustained to the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant following the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami.
In his “Poem for Japan,” Matthew Zapruder give us a relatable speaker who addresses his own fears following the nuclear fallout in Japan. He stays inside, “listening to a podcast, discuss how particles, over the Pacific, might drift.” The reaction was mimicked by others, including myself. In the days following the disaster, I kept numerous tabs and articles open on my computer that traced the evolving situation on the other side of the Pacific. I followed information on the architectural structure of certain buildings that had helped minimize the number of deaths that occurred during the event, but I also followed the containment plan that Japan followed to prevent a spillage of nuclear waste.
Unfortunately, Zapruder and his speaker highlight a cruelty in humans. In the wake of our potential demise, people are capable of ignoring the damage experienced by others. As his speaker claimed, “the emperor, everyone has forgotten, is speaking.” While reading this, I thought of the reports that issued from Japan following earthquake as well as the various groups and organizations that launched fundraising campaigns mere hours following the disaster. There was an outpouring of support, and I remember watching as the donations grew in a few short hours. However, I also listened to many classmates who were more concerned about the looming nuclear disaster to express concern over the thousands of injured Japanese merely one ocean away from us, or about our fellow classmates who had been studying abroad when the earthquake struck. I took these three line to demonstrate the relative ease with which one can ignore the plight of others when a seemingly greater threat looms over one’s self.
However, his speaker comes back to comment on everyday subjects that occasionally go unnoticed or unmentioned. How many of us fail appreciate the umbrella in the closet or our neighbor’s pet cat, until a catastrophe forces us to look at the everyday as something more than mundane? Zapruder’s speaker draws this to our attention. He doesn’t launch into emergency preservation mode by buying various dried goods and bottled water in bulk. No, instead he reflects on the mundane knowledge that his umbrella is stored in his closet, and on the interaction he shares with a deli-residing cat. These moments, which we often take for granted on a daily analysis of our life, is brought forward as important in the wake of a potential nuclear disaster. By doing this, Zapruder and his speaker force the reader to reflect on how we experience and value our own daily activities.
“Poem for Japan,” forced me to reflect on my own reactions following the March eleventh earthquake. I caught myself reflecting on my selfish reactions. However, Zapruder also reminded me that sometimes, the only thing we can do is appreciate to everyday and enjoy the pleasure we take from something a routine as petting a slumbering cat in the corner deli.
Tuesday, September 25th, 2012
Obama’s “Race” Speech vs. Malcom X’s “The Ballot or the Bullet”
by Lara Eder
As the first African American to be recognized as a serious contender for the U.S. presidency, Obama faced a dangerous racial pigeonholing with which White candidates have never had to contend. He had to convince many America that his politics went beyond racial issues—that he was going to protect the interests of all Americans, not just those of the African American community. He had to attempt to remove his being Black as his single defining characteristic as a candidate. Comparing his rhetorical efforts to other major African Americans, such as Malcolm X, shows how essential it was for Obama to unite a racially diverse group. In Obama’s race speech, he tries to address White concerns that he will primarily seek to serve African American interests, while Malcolm X’s “Ballot or Bullet” speech seeks to emphasize the racial divide between white and Black Americans.
One of the ways Obama connects with the White audience is his reference to his White grandmother and his emphasis on the loving relationship he shared with her. He makes it clear that White Americans and Black Americans have influenced him as if to say that he can relate to both. He addresses the frustrations of the Black community and how it has suffered from the legacy of slavery, but also addresses the economic strife of the White middle and lower classes lest they feel ignored. He infuses the speech with optimism, offering change to people of all races who have suffered, “still irrevocably bound to a tragic past.” Finally, he tugs at the bleeding heart strings of his predominantly liberal audience by sharing an anecdote about two of his supporters, an old African American and a young White girl, who personify the harmony and hope he offers to all.
In contrast, Malcolm X emphasizes the African American struggle in the hopes of provoking his African American audience into action. Like Obama’s concern with the potential divisiveness of his race, Malcom X seems concerned that his Muslim faith may alienate a predominantly Christian crowd. As a result, he insists that religion is irrelevant, as the whole African American community should feel united in the abuse to which they’ve been subjected by American society. He takes the opposite approach of Obama, he argues that White men are only concerned with White interests and thus, Black men should only concern themselves with the plight of their community:
… You can’t open up a black store in a White community. White men won’t even patronize you. And he’s not wrong. He’s got sense enough to look out for himself. You the one who don’t have sense enough to look out for yourself. (The Ballot or the Bullet, 2)
Thursday, September 14th, 2012
Inspiration is Key
by Michelle Kassatly
Tuesday, September 11th, 2012
How Ryan Lizza Captured the G.M.K.
by Gabriela Kirkland
Orwell & Prose
by Jenny Aronson
All wary, unsolicited defenders of the English language have our own pet peeves. Prose is right in her assertion that Orwell’s “Politics and the English Language” proves itself a timeless tool for her students. Perhaps its relevance is at least partially due to Orwell’s cathartic laundry list of literary bêtes noires (curses, rule #5, in my defense I already used ‘pet peeve’). Any writer, poet, or English major can relate. After all, these little nitpicks are all we’ve got, apart from amazing Shakespearean trivia questions for the cafe chalkboards where we barista. I mean, ick, an English professor named Prose? Even that got me a little. What stuck in Orwell’s craw (rule #1, transgression #2) was drab, meaningless phrases. For me, no offense is so egregious as the misuse of “literally”.
Most other words are generous. Their roots and cadences allow us to grope in the darkness towards some general vicinity of meaning. But you don’t fail in nuanced implication with literally. You butcher it. BUTCHER. It. It bleeds purpose. You are using it in the exact opposite way from that for which it was so graciously conceived. Every time I hear someone say, “I literally just peed,” I cringe. Or when I’m standing in the cafeteria line, and it languidly unfurls in my ear:“literallyyyyy.” It’s a one-word, flop-tongued response to the anticlimax of some bro-ish weekend debriefing – vocal fry stretching the “y” to its breaking point- and my skin just crawls. I can’t explain it. Nothing bothers me more. It disturbs me how much more I am bothered by the thought of it. More than the jolting figure of my looming student loan debt, even. I feel inhumane in the amount of time I spend thinking about this injustice compared to, say, the rural health care crisis or educational achievement gap.
And we’ve never been more desperate for such a word. In an age of such rampant, high-octane hyperbole, what death of meaning should be more lamented? I’m fine with a little hyperbole (clearly), so long as we have some verbal machete to slice through the thick of it. So mangled by common usage, poor “literally” now ironically contributes to the cause it fought so valiantly against. And don’t get me started on irony. I could write you a tragedy on irony. We open on irony and its happy family. Little Irony Jr. runs through the sprinkler on a Rockwellian Sunday afternoon. The year is 1994. We, the audience, look on in horror; painfully aware that Alanis Morrissette’s Doc Martins are months away from their merry dance upon its grave, helpless to stop her.
But while I’m pointing fingers, Orwell’s issue with political writing also rings true. As Orwell points out, politicians themselves earned their reputations, noting, “The great enemy of clear language is insincerity”. But it’s modern political writers who really go above and beyond the conceivable bounds of embellishment. They still take home gold for nearly every grievance laid out in “Politics and the English Language.” Have you ever grimaced more at the thought of inevitable headline puns than at the news story itself? The only recent story bloggers let speak for itself was Anthony Weiner’s scandal, perhaps they felt it just wasn’t sporting. Think of all the Daily Show montages; clip after clip of the same tired pundit jab rolling by in a continuous flow of punchy word vomit. Blogs present an immediate format ripe for overstating. Of my daily reads, I would have to say the worst is the Huffington Post.
Like the rube that I am, my heart jumps every time I read the hyperlinked, “Horrible car crash???” Only to click through to “…in a movie!!” So potent is their brand of hyperbole, it merited its own twitter hashtag. The tag was created by comedy writer Todd Levin, who tweeted such eerily pitch-perfect fakes as “PICS: 10 CRAZIEST ICE CREAM TOPPING#HuffPoHeadlines,” and “SHOULD BREASTS BE ILLEGAL?” Comedian Patton Oswalt expanded on the joke, creating “#bandnamesfromhuffopoheadlines,” tacked onto real Huffington Post headlines like, “Humiliation for Ahmadinejad” and “Gwyneth Sideboob.” When Prose says she, “set out to consider how much Orwell didn’t know,” I have to believe that must encompass what is regrettably very much the political blog aesthetic.
I wonder what it says of us, this need to hyperbolize even the one word standing in hyperbole’s way. Do we find even our own stories that boring? Is it a vicious cycle of our inability to effectively communicate, perpetuating our use of three dollar words as a crutch, thus rendering them ineffective, etc. etc.? Or is it just laziness? If hyperbole serves to mask the blandness of topics we as a public find dull, then it’s disturbing to find it peppered most commonly into politics. If we’re really just that lazy, Orwell might readily label us those “completely unquestioning, devoted drudges on whom the stability of the Party depended.” (1984). Either way, we’re literally the worst, you guys.
Monday, September 3rd, 2012
Breaking the Spell
by Christian Simon
Word Shortage
by Daniel O'Connell
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