Sic semper tyrannis, yes....thus always to tyrants! And today, February 11, 2011, the world watched as the Egyptian people peacefully persuaded a tyrant to leave. Even 24 hours ago, it seemed this would not happen, but it did! Egypt, one of the oldest civilizations in the world, has seen more than its share of tyrants come and go, from well known pharaohs, to foreign despots, to their own homegrown tyrants. But, in today's world, the young people knew they didn't have to suffer under the heel of a tyrant and his secret police any more, they knew life could be better for them and their grandchildren if they took their futures in their own hands.
I was reminded of October 1989 when the first cracks in the Berlin Wall were chipped away, when the guards between East and West no longer checked papers, and let people through, and they began streaming into the west. Both of these times I sat and watched the television and chills ran through my body for the sheer audacity of the people, and the power of this audacity and combined strength.
I am in awe of those people. We need to remember what Martin Luther King said: "The arc of history bends long, but it bends towards justice." We saw that arc bend today toward justice for the Egyptian people. The joy on people's faces is a never-to-be-forgotten sight.
I have witnessed many wonderful events in my long life, and this is up in the top tier.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
The Second Coming
As I said the first night, literature deals with truth, and truth applies from one generation to the next. What is written at one specific time in history, has truths for later generations. This is the case with The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats, an Irish poet of the early 20th century.
This poem was written at the end of World War I, when the world as people had known it, had truly ended. Yet people today still find meaning in it, and its words have applied to the entire 20th century, and well into the 21st century.
Some of the phrases from the poem have been used as titles for books, as Things Fall Apart. People often speak about the "center holding." The "ceremony of innocence" is used countless times and in countless ways. I think "The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity" could without a doubt be applied to today, or many times since 1919.
We always think The Second Coming is at hand because of this or that happening.....floods, drought, blizzards, famine......etc. We think we are original in this; we are not.
How timely is this poem with what is going on now in Egypt! "...somewhere in the sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man."......the eternal image of the sphinx and its terribleness.
Is Mubarak the sphinx, or are the people the sphinx, now rousing itself? Will they be the ones to solve the riddle of the sphinx?
What a picture he paints in "And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?" How many false prophets could that have been said about this past century?
We, today, think we are the first ones to have these feelings. We are not. We follow in a long line. Remember all the fuss about Y2K and how meaningless it was? The year 1000 promoted the same kind of panic in Europe, with the same stupid things said about that coming year.
Good poets speak to all ages. They share truths that we can get hold of and use for understanding. They are not trite, nor easy to get hold of. We must mine deep for their meanings.
Enjoy!
This poem was written at the end of World War I, when the world as people had known it, had truly ended. Yet people today still find meaning in it, and its words have applied to the entire 20th century, and well into the 21st century.
Some of the phrases from the poem have been used as titles for books, as Things Fall Apart. People often speak about the "center holding." The "ceremony of innocence" is used countless times and in countless ways. I think "The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity" could without a doubt be applied to today, or many times since 1919.
We always think The Second Coming is at hand because of this or that happening.....floods, drought, blizzards, famine......etc. We think we are original in this; we are not.
How timely is this poem with what is going on now in Egypt! "...somewhere in the sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man."......the eternal image of the sphinx and its terribleness.
Is Mubarak the sphinx, or are the people the sphinx, now rousing itself? Will they be the ones to solve the riddle of the sphinx?
What a picture he paints in "And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?" How many false prophets could that have been said about this past century?
We, today, think we are the first ones to have these feelings. We are not. We follow in a long line. Remember all the fuss about Y2K and how meaningless it was? The year 1000 promoted the same kind of panic in Europe, with the same stupid things said about that coming year.
Good poets speak to all ages. They share truths that we can get hold of and use for understanding. They are not trite, nor easy to get hold of. We must mine deep for their meanings.
Enjoy!
Antigone
I am so sorry we won't be together to share this play! We need to read parts of it aloud and see how it builds to its fateful climax. Antigone is said to be the birth of the individual conscience in literature. Previously all actions had been determined by tribe or clan or family. Antigone, however, takes a stand on her own, doing what she believes is right, even though it goes against Kreon and his believe in the powerful State. He believes that if people like Antigone are allowed to have their way, anarchy will be loosed upon the world. He, like all dictators, fears anarchy more than anything else. They cannot see that what appears to be anarchy is often just the stirrings of people to determine their way. I think this is what we are seeing in Egypt now. Mubarak says anarchy threatens if people don't follow him. This is supposed to scare these people into obeying.
Well, Antigone stood on her own. She knew she must obey the gods and bury her brother. Kreon had decreed that no one could, because Polyneices was a traitor to the state. Antigone believes that all the dead are owed their burial rites. Ismene is afraid to participate with Antigone, and Antigone appears a bit heartless when Ismene comes along to her side.
I find it encouraging that Antigone is betrothed to Haemon, yes, a distant relative. I remember that Oedipus prophesied that no one would want to marry her because of her heritage, but Haemon loves her and does not hold her heritage against her. This is an early picture of romantic love, which is not usually shown, as most marriages were arranged and made for dynastic or business purposes.
I love Antigone, the play and the person. She is her own woman, one who would stand out today. Antigone made her decisions on her own. Esther did well, but did not act on her own. Mordecai told her what to do and she did it.
Poor Thebes! What will happen to it.......of course, it disappeared, only to be known in literature and legend. Antigone lives on, and will continue to live.
Well, Antigone stood on her own. She knew she must obey the gods and bury her brother. Kreon had decreed that no one could, because Polyneices was a traitor to the state. Antigone believes that all the dead are owed their burial rites. Ismene is afraid to participate with Antigone, and Antigone appears a bit heartless when Ismene comes along to her side.
I find it encouraging that Antigone is betrothed to Haemon, yes, a distant relative. I remember that Oedipus prophesied that no one would want to marry her because of her heritage, but Haemon loves her and does not hold her heritage against her. This is an early picture of romantic love, which is not usually shown, as most marriages were arranged and made for dynastic or business purposes.
I love Antigone, the play and the person. She is her own woman, one who would stand out today. Antigone made her decisions on her own. Esther did well, but did not act on her own. Mordecai told her what to do and she did it.
Poor Thebes! What will happen to it.......of course, it disappeared, only to be known in literature and legend. Antigone lives on, and will continue to live.
Suffering with Job
This week's reading is LONG! A lot to digest. Sometimes it seems as if it is the same thing over and over again, though I know it is a progression of ideas, building to God's part in the dialogue. I enjoy the vivid use of language and word pictures the author uses. My favorite one is Chapter 19: 16-20. it begins with "My breath is noisome to my wife.....and ends with My bones stick out through my skin, and I gnaw my under-lip with my teeth." Quite a picture, and one most of us can identify with.
Chapter 28 is called the Hymn to Widsom and is a later insertion, not part of the grand dialogue.
This part of the book raises questions to me. What is the nature of God in these chapters? What is the nature of Job in these chapters? What did I learn about the comforters in these chapters? I see God portrayed as powerful, and dominant. Poor Job is waiting for a resolution. I notice his use of sarcasm quite a bit....a natural response to events. The comforters I see as arrogant and self righteous.
Several questions are asked in these chapters......for instance, does God answer a helpless person's cry? Where does understanding dwell? And of course, since I am good, Why am I being punished? I see few answers provided in these chapters.
I think the drive for immediate answers is a strong American characteristic.....other people I know from other cultures seem to be able to deal with ambiguity more successfully than we are. We like black and white, good and evil, wrong and right, yes and no. It takes us a long time to grow up and realize that life doesn't work that way. Job has to accept this, also.
Chapter 28 is called the Hymn to Widsom and is a later insertion, not part of the grand dialogue.
This part of the book raises questions to me. What is the nature of God in these chapters? What is the nature of Job in these chapters? What did I learn about the comforters in these chapters? I see God portrayed as powerful, and dominant. Poor Job is waiting for a resolution. I notice his use of sarcasm quite a bit....a natural response to events. The comforters I see as arrogant and self righteous.
Several questions are asked in these chapters......for instance, does God answer a helpless person's cry? Where does understanding dwell? And of course, since I am good, Why am I being punished? I see few answers provided in these chapters.
I think the drive for immediate answers is a strong American characteristic.....other people I know from other cultures seem to be able to deal with ambiguity more successfully than we are. We like black and white, good and evil, wrong and right, yes and no. It takes us a long time to grow up and realize that life doesn't work that way. Job has to accept this, also.
Acquainted With the Night
I love Robert Frost's poetry. My two favorite poems are Mending Wall and Birches. These two poems use Frost's familiar rural images. However, when I read them and understand them, I see that he is not talking about a benevolent and kind nature. He sees the harshness of nature and what it means in people's lives.
In Acquainted with the Night Frost goes to the city, and shows his lonely, dark, shuttered side. His images are stark and make me feel lonely and somewhat afraid. I feel depression and angst in this poem. He looks for answers and finds none, not even wrong and right. In fact, most of his poems leave us with ambiguity. He offers no solutions or answers, he just offers questions, and he never is particularly upbeat or optimistic.
He looks at life realistically, but cloaks it in his powerful images, so I don't have to accept a big bite all at once. I can take him a bite at a time, which is enough.
In Acquainted with the Night Frost goes to the city, and shows his lonely, dark, shuttered side. His images are stark and make me feel lonely and somewhat afraid. I feel depression and angst in this poem. He looks for answers and finds none, not even wrong and right. In fact, most of his poems leave us with ambiguity. He offers no solutions or answers, he just offers questions, and he never is particularly upbeat or optimistic.
He looks at life realistically, but cloaks it in his powerful images, so I don't have to accept a big bite all at once. I can take him a bite at a time, which is enough.
The Irish Troubles
England and Ireland have a long history of antagonism. This antagonism is seen clearly depicted in Guests of the Nation" by Frank O'Connor. Thanks to our fourth amendment, we in the U.S. will never have to quarter soldiers of an opposing army, or even our own army. Quartering of soldiers had been a standard practice in many countries for years, and during our revolution families had to quarter British soldiers, if you can imagine! However, the framers of our Constitution made sure that would never happen to us. A law professor we know says this is the foundation of everything in the Constitution, and begins his Constitutional Law class with this amendment, something most of us never think about, nor do we even know.
The Irish lady had to house the two English soldiers, and for her this situation worked well, because of the nature of Belcher, in particular. Belcher and Hawkins, the English soldiers had become cozy and friendly with their landlady and with the Irish soldiers Noble and Bonaparte. They had become so friendly that both sides had forgotten why they were quartered here, and what their military duty was.
This story raises the question of duty and the powers behind that duty. Did Donovan HAVE to kill Belcher and Hawkins? Could he have refused? If he had, what would have been his consequences? Did ne actually enjoy killing in retribution for the Irish soldiers' lives? Why was an Irish soldier named Bonaparte? Is this significant? What part do fate and destiny play in this story? Can we change fate, or are we hostage to it, as Donovan tells Bonaparte that Belcher and Hawkins are hostages?
This story raises many questions, and answers few. It leaves me with a feeling of unrest and dissatisfaction. This war which the English and Irish fought for years provided a pervasive sense of unrest to both parties.
The Irish lady had to house the two English soldiers, and for her this situation worked well, because of the nature of Belcher, in particular. Belcher and Hawkins, the English soldiers had become cozy and friendly with their landlady and with the Irish soldiers Noble and Bonaparte. They had become so friendly that both sides had forgotten why they were quartered here, and what their military duty was.
This story raises the question of duty and the powers behind that duty. Did Donovan HAVE to kill Belcher and Hawkins? Could he have refused? If he had, what would have been his consequences? Did ne actually enjoy killing in retribution for the Irish soldiers' lives? Why was an Irish soldier named Bonaparte? Is this significant? What part do fate and destiny play in this story? Can we change fate, or are we hostage to it, as Donovan tells Bonaparte that Belcher and Hawkins are hostages?
This story raises many questions, and answers few. It leaves me with a feeling of unrest and dissatisfaction. This war which the English and Irish fought for years provided a pervasive sense of unrest to both parties.
Sylvia and Miss Moore
The Lesson by Toni Cade Bambara dumps us unceremoniously into the lives of Sylvia and her cohorts. Obviously, Sylvia is the leader of the group, although others try to wrest this leadership from her. This leadership is known because it is to Sylvia that Miss Moore gives the $5.00 for taxi fare. For all her outspoken antagonism to Miss Moore, Miss Moore sees in Sylvia potential and brains. Miss Moore wants Sylvia to have opportunity, and feels dutybound to provide it, as no one else is.
Sylvia is articulate and cagey, but Miss Moore is cagey too. Even though Sylvia calls Miss Moore's talks "blah, blah, blah" we, the readers, soon realize that much of what Miss Moore is doing, much more than what she says, is getting through to Sylvia.
I like Sylvia, and I admire Miss Moore. These are two worthy adversaries, each strong willed and determined. Miss Moore is determined to enlarge Sylvia's world, and in the process knows that the other children's worlds will be enlarged too. Sylvia is a fighter, she has had to be. We learn that her mother does little for her. She evidently is kept by a man in what Sylvia calls a "la di da" apartment, and it is the aunt who minds the kids. Sylvia thinks her aunt is an easy walkover, but knows where would she be without her?
Sylvia's brains can be seen in her vivid descriptions of actions and people. Her language is colorful and specific. Her description of them all going into F.A.O. Schwartz is beautiful: (p. 460) "Then the rest of us tumble in like a glued-together jibsaw done all wrong." No one stupid could have thought and written that!
I think we see Sylvia's mettle in the last lines of the story: (p. 462)
"We start down the block and she (Sugar) gets ahead which is O.K. by me cause I'm going to the West End and then over to the Drive to think this day through. She can run if she want to and even run faster. But ain't nobody gonna beat me at nuthin." I believe Sylvia will fight her way to a better life.....I have hope for her.
Sylvia is articulate and cagey, but Miss Moore is cagey too. Even though Sylvia calls Miss Moore's talks "blah, blah, blah" we, the readers, soon realize that much of what Miss Moore is doing, much more than what she says, is getting through to Sylvia.
I like Sylvia, and I admire Miss Moore. These are two worthy adversaries, each strong willed and determined. Miss Moore is determined to enlarge Sylvia's world, and in the process knows that the other children's worlds will be enlarged too. Sylvia is a fighter, she has had to be. We learn that her mother does little for her. She evidently is kept by a man in what Sylvia calls a "la di da" apartment, and it is the aunt who minds the kids. Sylvia thinks her aunt is an easy walkover, but knows where would she be without her?
Sylvia's brains can be seen in her vivid descriptions of actions and people. Her language is colorful and specific. Her description of them all going into F.A.O. Schwartz is beautiful: (p. 460) "Then the rest of us tumble in like a glued-together jibsaw done all wrong." No one stupid could have thought and written that!
I think we see Sylvia's mettle in the last lines of the story: (p. 462)
"We start down the block and she (Sugar) gets ahead which is O.K. by me cause I'm going to the West End and then over to the Drive to think this day through. She can run if she want to and even run faster. But ain't nobody gonna beat me at nuthin." I believe Sylvia will fight her way to a better life.....I have hope for her.
The Gunner and Death of the Ball Turret Gunner
Randall Jarrell's two poems The Gunner and Death of the Ball Turret Gunner are two poems that came out of World War II. The position of gunner was acknowledged to be the most dangerous one in a plane. Also, the space was small and cramped, the man had to be small, and he was an open target in his plexiglass bubble.
These two poems were written ten years apart. Interestingly, the first one published in 1945 is a bald telling of what happened. The one published ten years later deals with questions, though couched in provocative and figurative language. Each, though, questions the right of the State to take away a life in this manner. Each regretting the shortness of life and wondering "Is this all there is?"
I react to these two viscerally. The author was born the same year my father was, my father served in World War II, fortunately, as a chaplain, so he was not in such a precarious position. The author bewails the youth lost, and I remember what my father reported as the common wisdom: "There old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots." Youth does not know any better....and as Winston Churchill said "Young men fight old men's wars." Sad, but true.
These two poems were written ten years apart. Interestingly, the first one published in 1945 is a bald telling of what happened. The one published ten years later deals with questions, though couched in provocative and figurative language. Each, though, questions the right of the State to take away a life in this manner. Each regretting the shortness of life and wondering "Is this all there is?"
I react to these two viscerally. The author was born the same year my father was, my father served in World War II, fortunately, as a chaplain, so he was not in such a precarious position. The author bewails the youth lost, and I remember what my father reported as the common wisdom: "There old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots." Youth does not know any better....and as Winston Churchill said "Young men fight old men's wars." Sad, but true.
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