Journey to the Past

            I’d given up hope on getting a dog.  After spending many childhood years of begging and pleading with my parents, writing them desperate letters, even crying over the homeless dogs I’d seen in shelters and convinced myself I was in love with, I gave up on ever having a dog.  Then came Christmas, 5^th grade.

            I’d already had a fantastic Christmas. I’d gotten my first computer, (I was ecstatic to receive my parents’ old clunker PC) and a ridiculous wave of toys and clothes.  Just after we had opened up all the presents under the tree, my dad brought out one more present, the best one yet.  It was a puppy!  She was overwhelmingly adorable, playful, and tiny.  Those first moments were full of excitement and love, but I had no idea how wonderful of a dog she would grow to be.

             I soon named her Zoe, a name that she grew to embody with her quirky and spunky personality.  I cherish so many of my memories with Zoe.  I’ll never forget the endless spring days taking her on long walks, giving her baths and trying to keep most of the water in the bathtub, that random time we slept in a tent in my backyard, taking her boating on the lake, terrorizing my cat; for all of my adolescence, Zoe was my best friend, my dog.

            Over the years, life started to get busy for me.  As I started high school and became involved in AP classes, high school sports, organizations, and friends.  Since I’m an only child, Zoe started to be left alone quite a bit.  I’m sure she started to get lonely, but at least I was still there to give her the love she deserved as such a great dog.  I’m probably over-analyzing this, because she’s just my dog, but I still felt bad.

            The hardest thing for her was when I went off to college.  She was now alone most all the time and, though my parents cared for her and gave her lots of attention while they were around, she was still alone most of the time.  Considering how spoiled she had been before, never leaving my side, it was pretty sad for me to leave her alone at home.  I couldn’t wait to get my own place and bring her to my new home.

            But she deserved better.  She was still young and deserved a happy family with kids who would love her all the time and give her the attention she wanted.  So a few months into last semester, my dad found Zoe a new home.  I’ll never see her again, never be able to take her on a walk or give her a soggy, smelly bath.  I’ll never be able to live on my own with her, as had been my plan.  It was a really hard thing to do, to give up, let her go.  I think she is much better off with her new family with three young kids.  I’m sure she is happy and hyper and feels the love she deserves everyday.

Lunch with James (Part 3)

Today James and I enjoyed lunch outside.  The weather was perfect and it took us an especially long time to get past the small talk.  I think we were both tired following round one of tests this semester, with both of us having several tests recently.  Regardless of our slow conversational start, we eventually moved past how pretty it was outside to deeper thoughts.

            James explained a lot about Chinese philosophy and how it compared to his equally unique views about, basically, religion, government, and the power of our minds.  It was a very interesting conversation; he said a lot about things I’d never considered before.  One thing we spent a fair amount of time discussing was Chinese government and society and how a lot of Chinese people think in terms of spirituality and philosophy.  James observed that the Chinese government tends to only accept religions into its society that do not involve a supreme higher power, God.  He explained that the reason behind this was so the government could maintain further control over the citizens as the upmost authority.  He also taught me about a common Chinese religion, Taoism.

            It’s ironic that we discussed Taoism because Tao is James’ Chinese first name, and we had just chatted about what his name meant.  In Chinese society, names seem to be given a much greater importance than in our society.  The meaning of names is seen as influential in the future of the person. James is skeptical of this viewpoint, but it ironically seems to fit with his own name.  Tao means businessman, ironically James’s intended major when he becomes a freshman.

            I learned a lot about James’ perceptions of how country.  It was interesting to hear how differently his society approaches topics like the future and how he differs from typical Chinese beliefs.  I’m looking forward to hearing more about his intriguing thoughts and observations when we meet next week!

Huck Finn Experience

1. Have you read the novel –Huck Finn- before?  If so where and why?

Yes.  I read an abridged children’s version of the novel in elementary school just for fun and another version of it in high school as assigned reading in an English class.

3. What was your response to reading Huck Finn, and what do you remember from your reading?  Also, did you actually read the whole novel, or just parts of it?  Did you read Cliff Notes or Monarch Notes instead?

When I first read Huck Finn I really enjoyed it.  I thought the story was fun and definitely didn’t understand the deeper troubles behind the novel.  In high school, we only read parts of it and I definitely used Sparknotes to supplement the story when I didn’t understand or was bogged down by all the detail.   This time I read most all of it and found it to be so much deeper and more grotesque than what I had read before.

4. If you were assigned to read Huck Finn in a previous class, either here or in high school, how did your class as a whole react to the novel?  Why do you think your instructor assigned the novel?  How did he or she try to “teach” the novel?

My class seemed to also enjoy the book for its entertaining qualities.  We read only parts of it and went pretty fast so I don’t think we really considered much about the implications of the novel and what it was implying about racism and humanity.  I honestly don’t remember a lot about how my teacher presented the novel because parts of the class read different books and we didn’t spend a lot of class time discussing it.

5. If you were required to read Huck Finn in a previous class, what sort of assignments were you required to complete, and what exactly did you do during the classes when

Huck Finn was being discussed.

I remember having to make a large visual project and made a huge 3D map of Huck and Jim’s journey down the Mississippi, complete with a little raft made of twigs.  I don’t think we discussed the novel in class any deeper than the basic plot.

6. Huck Finn is still one of the most controversial and most banned books in America.  Why is it so controversial? 

I think Huck Finn is controversial because of its frank portrayal of a humiliating side of American history.  In elementary school, we never learned about anything controversial in recent history, like the Vietnam War, because we could have had grandparents or parents who fought in the wars and they didn’t want to step on any toes among veteran’s kids.  I think this is also the reason why Huck Finn has been controversial; it steps on the toes of many who come from the cultures that are portrayed adversely.

7. Is Huck Finn still relevant to you as college student today?  Should it continue to be taught in college classrooms?

I think it is relevant as a look into the past, providing an almost historical-fiction story.  It’s important for us to experience the level of racism that seems almost impossible to us today but was prevalent in our country’s past.

8.  The general consensus among critics is that Huck Finn is a brilliant and powerful novel, but also a flawed and problematic novel.  What do you think might be flawed and/or problematic about the novel?

One thing of issue is the language, because the n-word is used so prevalently it almost seems to desensitize you to it as you read.  Although this adds to the reality of the novel, more accurately portraying the language of the time it portrays.  It is also problematic because of its generalizations about American society in general.  19^th century Americans along the Mississippi are portrayed as wicked, selfish, greedy, racist, and shameful.  This probably isn’t what our nation wants to remember about the past.  Though this is problematic, I think having authenticity is more important than portraying our society as perfect and incorruptible.

Huck Finn

I’ve read this before.  It should be short, simple, and predominately a memory-jogger.  These thoughts of mine before starting the novel were unfortunately mistaken.  I was a fan of Huck Finn when I first read it in elementary school, but soon after I began reading this edition last week I realized that what I had read back then had been an abridged, easy-to-read, Disney-ified version of the surprisingly blatant portrayal of a young man’s journey down the Mississippi.

One thing that interested me about Huck was his inability to tell the truth.  He seems to be a pathological liar, and quite a good one, able to create elaborate aliases and convince average strangers to believe them.  His ability to lie gets him out of trouble several times, like when he convinced some men searching for slaves that his family had smallpox so they would stay away or when he is able to explain his Sarah Mary Williams mishap away without revealing his true self.  Huck’s preference for deception corresponds to his general disconnect from society’s traditional views of right and wrong.  Society conventionally disapproves of dishonesty, but Huck doesn’t seem to feel even slightly guilty for his perpetual deceit.

Since Huck is so detached from society, his enlightening expedition down the Mississippi seems similar to Candide’s bystander-like journey through his society.  Huck’s reactions to the illogical conventions of society function as Twain’s criticisms, similarly to Voltaire’s use of Candide’s experience to criticize 18^th century France.  One topic under Huck’s scrutiny is the seemingly silly acts required by society.  He disregarded sleeping in beds and bathing regularly, and didn’t understand at all the value society has placed upon religion.  He seemed to base his opinions on the concrete, on tangible gains and losses, but it’s interesting to compare how his expectations line up with what he observes.  For example, when Huck did something he expected was unlucky, like spilling salt, he quickly saw the parallel between that and an unfavorable event that happened soon after.  

Although it wasn’t the same simple tale that I remember from my childhood, I still found Huck’s adventure to be eye-opening and an intriguing glimpse into a strange society.

Once Upon a December

The forest near my grandparents’ house was one of favorite places as a child.  My cousins and I spent ages exploring the maze-like network of trails, playing out pretend stories of Indians and cowboys, school, and the infamous games of “house,” carrying around dolls and dreaming up our future lives.  Although the woods bring up fantastic memories with my cousins, I occasionally think of another memory from the woods, one that to this day sends chills down my spine and makes me shudder.

It was unreasonably cold that afternoon.  One of my cousins, my grandmother, and I set out for a journey into the woods, my cousin and I bundled in matching coats and scarves that made us look more like sisters than cousins.  Deep in the woods, we found an abandoned tree house, one that my dad and aunt had played in when they were young.  The tree house looked ancient, weathered to the point of destruction by the many summers and winters it had laid abandoned.  The house ensnared our attention and eerily called us closer like a dark and mysterious shipwreck captivates a scuba diver.  The old wooden roof of the tree house had fallen on the ground and we eagerly jumped up on top.  Big mistake.

When I was little, I was a big fan of Winnie the Pooh.  I’d seen numerous times the animated tornado of bees buzzing annoyingly around their honey in the cartoon.  I hadn’t realized, before this day in the woods, that bees actually travel in tornados until my cousin and I inadvertently crushed their nest.  The nest was harbored under the tree house roof that we playfully jumped upon like a trampoline.  The raging tornado of bees stung us all over, chasing us for what felt like miles back up the path all the way to my grandparent’s house.  I’m sure we looked quite ridiculous running up the trails, screaming that these bees would be the ends of us.  Once we finally got inside it still wasn’t over; the bees had crawled into our scarves and coats, still stinging as we stripped down in the middle of the house.  Eventually, all the furious bees were gone, dead bees and disregarded coats littering the floor as we examined the damages.  According to my family, I looked like a tomato with around ten stings on my face alone.  We were totally fine, just terrified out of our minds.

            Before that day I had been innocently fearless, never afraid of the woods or being outside or buzzing insects.  For a long time after that day in the woods, I was irrationally afraid of all things related to flying bugs.  Although it was horrified at the time,  I now find the story quite humorous.  I laugh at the vivid picture of my cousin and I running for our lives through the woods chased by a tornado of tiny insects.