Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi (Blog 14)

"I didn't know what justice was. Now that the revolution was finally over once and for all, I abandoned the dialectic materialism of my comic strips. The only place I felt safe was in the arms of my friend." (Satrapi 53)

This clip of the comic strip hit me sort of hard, and bounced around my mind quite a bit. A question has been asked at what point do we allow the children to risk safety to stand up to what they believe, and at what point do we keep them in the safety of a protected environment?

I reread the story, and realized how much there is being tossed around. Marji moves from hearing everything but being allowed to act on nothing, forming thoughts and ideas on her own in her mind. She started seeing contradictions in her own home and what was being said (like when she spoke about riding in the Cadillac on page 6 and 33) so she decided to protest anyway. She goes on to hear about what happened and is told to forgive, justice will be served. A bit later, her mother tells her that "bad people are dangerous but forgiving them is too. Don't worry, there is justice on earth." But when thinking about all those who were lost and everything Marji was told up through this point, how can a child understand and process all that is to be done? It is confusing enough for an adult to be supporting and fighting for a cause, as more information comes out thoughts usually change at least slightly, but how does a child take it all?

This quote spells it pretty clearly, sometimes no matter how badly we want to fight for something, we need to take the time to process it all. When it came down to it, the only constant, reliable thing in Marji's life was God. What a scary place to be as a child.

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver (Blog 13)

"Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine./Meanwhile the world goes on./Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain/are moving across the landscapes" (lines 6-9)

These lines are important in this poem because it is a turning point. Oliver begins by saying (in simple terms) we do not have to be perfect, we just have to let out what is in us. Throughout lines six to nine the poem shows a direct partnership and compassion in a world that seems to move on regardless of what happens to "you". Throughout the poem Oliver uses the world "meanwhile" showing that the world moves on, but she ends with saying how related each person is to the "nature of things".

I really liked lines six to nine because it presents a relationship available to all, knowing all is connected, yet realizing the world will continue to move on despite an individual's mindset.

Rober Graves - Counting the Beats (blog 12)

A possible paraphrase...

If there was only you and I in love, with nothing else, why should we care? Our hearts slowly beating throughout time, we are awake. Today is beautiful, but eventually the storm will come. She asks "Where will we be when our time is up? Who were we?" He responds, "It makes no difference, for we will forever be here, together- Love lasts." As our hearts beat slowly through the depth of time, they are together, awake in the moment.

Blog 11 - "A Slumber Did My Sprirt SeaL"

It was difficult for me to choose any one line, as each line in this poem adds important information and meaning to the whole. "Rolled round in earth's diurnal couse,/With rocks, and stones, and trees." (Wordsworth, 539) are the lines I will choose because of it's simplicity and extravagence to me. After reading through this poem multiple times, and still not convinced I am entirely grasping what Wordsworth was intending, I see a man at his passing being introduced to wind. These lines are important, because it gives a bit of a description to this "she" persona. "She" is there every day, throughout the earth and along the journey. Rolling, crashing, and being, it seems as though from the beginning of time, but now it has all stopped. After the storm (or life), all is calm.

Blog 8 - Those Winter Sundays

This is my attempt at paraphrasing Robert Hayden's "Those Winter Sundays" (Page 413):

"My father gets up on Sundays, just as every other day, and gets dressed in the dark cold. Without so much as a "Thank you", he started the fire to warm the home before I got up. Once all was warm, he called for me to get up, and slowly I would get out of bed and dressed. Without understanding unconditional love and the loneliness it can have, I talked to him without respect for all he did."

Blog 7 - An Interesting Day!

Although I have already discussed this issue, I bring it up again (apparently it is a HUGE struggle for me!) The past four years or so I have heard oodles of people encouraging reading - fairly specific reading material, but reading none the less. There is one book that has been discussed in many gatherings, and I have always heard of it and thought, "Hey, that sounds like a great thing to read. I'm going to try it one day!"

Well today we went to a camp out (we just went for the day) and participated in the raffle and some fun and games. This book was one of the raffle items, and I dumped a good portion of the tickets into this one item. I won a book, today, and I am actually excited to read it. I don't like reading, but there is a catch with this one. I can relate to it.

The topic was discussed quite a bit this week, and it really ties into most literary discussions, I believe. But what is the purpose of reading? Why on earth would someone sit down and read a book? And the only answer to that I have is: To learn something.

I'm excited to read this book because what I hear about it is my life. I just opened it up and read a page and it is describing the start of such a wondrous revolution (mind you, this is a revolution for me, and my life - in a very literal way) There is conflict that is still discussed daily, 75 years later. It is amazing to me, learning about something that has changed my life, and I am truly interested. Given the time and quiet to do so, I can see myself sitting down with this book for a day and reading it cover to cover. But it's me within the covers of this book. I get some history of my way of life, I get others experience that is so similar to my own, and I get to learn how they worked through it through their lives in order to help me get through my own! Without reading, there is just so much lost in life.

Yet tell me to sit down and read something else and I'll probably complain, maybe even suddenly develop narcolepsy. Weird - all because I know beforehand that I can relate.

Week 3 - The Gift of Magi

"The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them." (Henry, 161) The end of the story goes on to explain the magi brought wonderful gifts, "no doubt wise ones" O. Henry states. While explaining the silliness/foolishness of these gifts and the sacrifice each gave, he ends with stating these are the wisest of givers.

I really enjoyed this story for personal reasons because I have long been disliked around gift giving time. If I couldn't find something that JUMPS out at me, screaming your name throughout the past year, sorry, you didn't get anything. I refuse to make a quick run to the store for a t-shirt, and only if there is a good reason behind it would I get a gift card. Past the personal connection, I also like how O. Henry forms another (smaller) conflict. As if saying "Oh yes, the Wise Men are wise and wonderful, but there is nothing like an entirely sacrificing gift." Afterall - Why give anything is your heart isn't in it? It isn't as though you are fooling anyone around you...