Norwegian Wood in relation to The Great Gatsby

As Murakami is known to be an avid reader of Western literature, he seems to be heavily influenced by it. In fact, quite a few Western classics appear in his work Norwegian Wood and many compare Norwegian Wood to J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, calling his work the Japanese version of it. However, my interest was directed more to the protagonist’s favorite book, The Great Gatsby. Why is it Toru’s favorite book? How is The Great Gatsby relate to the characters in the book? These are the questions I would like to explore in this reading journal.

           First of all, I believe Toru’s favorite book is The Great Gatsby because he admires and respects Gatsby. Norwegian Wood is set in the 1960’s Tokyo when Japanese students were protesting against the established government. Toru thought these protests were hypocritical and amounted to nothing. All he really seems to truly care about in most of the novel is this mysterious and scarred girl Naoko. Similarly, Gatsby’s driving force for everything is his love for the charming Daisy Buchanan. The Great Gatsby is set in the roaring 20’s, the Jazz Age, the age of outer extravagance and glory hiding the underlying superficiality the culture experienced. Materialism ensued and screamed “money buys class.” Rather than protesting or going against this reality, Gatsby makes use of it, creating this artificial world of “Jay Gatsby” by bootlegging and using money to create for himself a reputation of wealth by throwing absurdly extravagant parties and living in a huge mansion. However, unlike the typical rich class at that time leading empty lives of extravagance devoid of purpose and meaning, Gatsby had love as a driving force for his every action. Everything he did was to get the love of his life, Daisy. Toru loves this book because Gatsby is titled “great” for the noble motivation of his actions. Through the desire of love, Gatsby turned his dreams into a reality regardless of whether he actually succeeded or not.

           Yet, one question to ask ourselves, is Toru’s love, Naoko, worth waiting for? I think not. It’s Gatsby’s disillusionment all over again. To Gatsby, his love Daisy is the pinnacle of perfection, the epitome of beauty, love, and charm. Before the war, he and Daisy were lovers, and Daisy promised she’d wait for him when the war begins. However, in 1919 she marries Tom Buchanan, a man with a stable aristocratic background and class. Gatsby then dedicates his life to winning Daisy back by gathering wealth by illegal means. However, was Daisy really worth all of Gatsby’s dedication? Yes, Daisy is lovely, charming, and attractive. At the same time, she is empty, fickle, and loves money and extravagance. In the end, when Gatsby takes the blame for Daisy running over Myrtle, what does Daisy do? She walks away, running away on a vacation with her wealthy husband and tries to forget. Likewise, Toru tries to win Naoko’s true love. He constantly asks Naoko to live with him and pursue a life together. However, due to her continued attachment to the deceased Kizuki and her “deeply flawed” nature, she avoids commitment. Naoko is indeed beautiful and scarred, but Toru’s efforts to heal her scars seem futile. Like Daisy, Naoko, buried too deeply in the traumas of her past and still in love with Kizuki, decides to commit suicide without any explanation to Toru, giving Toru nothing but deep pain and unanswered questions. Toru’s love and dedication wasn’t enough for her.

           Perhaps Toru can also be titled “great” for his love for Naoko. However, unlike Gatsby, he has a chance to have a happy ending and redirect his love to someone more deserving. Someone who truly loves him back and will commit to him. Will he forget his past scar, Naoko, and succeed in giving and receiving that sacred emotion of love? Or will he be just another Naoko to Midori and set off a vicious cycle?

Sampson and James

“No! No! I won’t let you!”

James was on the brink of tears.

             “Jamesieboo, we have to put Sampson in the laundry.”

             “But Sampson can’t breathe in the water! He hates swimming!”

             “Look, James, Sampson’s filthy. Just look at these patches of gray on his fur. He needs a good washing.”

             “No he doesn’t,” he pouted.

             “James, Mom’s not going to let you play with Sampson until he’s all cleaned up. He’ll give you germs!”

             My brother’s big doe eyes widened.

“Sampson would never give me germs.”

“He would if you don’t let me put him in the washroom.”

James looked at the stuffed animal he was holding.

“Germs are bad,” James said thoughtfully.

“Germs are bad,” I repeated.

He whispered something into Sampson’s ear. Then, he put his ear against Sampson’s little muzzle. After a few seconds, he looked up at me.

“Sampson said he’ll go wash,” my brother translated, “but he wants me to come with him.”

“Does Sampson really need you to come with him to the laundry room, James?”

“Yes,” he articulated, “He said he’s too scared to go by himself. He needs me with him.”

“Well, all right, Jamesie. But the basement’s going to be chilly. Go grab a cardigan.”

I balanced the basket of laundry on one hand and held my brother’s with the other. James was clutching me tightly, with a look of solemnity on his face. I felt like an executioner as we went down the steps to the basement.

“James,” I asked when we reached the laundry room, “are you all right?”

“Germs kill people, right?” James asked seriously, staring at the laundry machine.

“What?”

“Mrs. Schoonover showed us a video about germs at school yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Melanie cried and she had to go to another room to watch another video about happier things.”

“Did you cry?”

“No. But it was kind of scary,” he admitted. His eyes were on me, now. “You don’t think Sampson has a lot of germs, do you? I mean, not so much that it’s going to kill him, right?” James’s huge eyes were filled to the brim with worry.

“No, Sampson probably doesn’t have so much germs that it’s going to hurt him. But in order for it to stay that way, we need to give him a wash, okay?”

“Okay. It’s kind of like me having to brush my teeth every day even though I don’t want to, right? Or else my tooths will all get black and the tooth fairy won’t want it for her tooth house.”

I looked down at him in adoration.

“You’re absolutely right, Jamesieboo. It’s exactly like that.”

“Okay, I think Sampson’s ready. But he’s really scared.”

“Give him a kiss.”

James obeyed. A few droplets of tears escaped his eyes as he put Sampson into the washing machine.

“Sampson doesn’t like water,” he said after I put in the detergent and pushed a few buttons.

“He won’t mind a bath once in a while,” I said as I gave him a hug, “Don’t you like it when you get out of the shower and Mom dries you with a soft towel?”

“Yeah. But I think I’ll wait here until he’s done. He’ll be upset if I don’t.”

I frowned. “Mom will be upset if you stay down here all alone and catch a cold. Let’s go upstairs. I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Can’t you stay with me until Mommy comes?”

“I…” I began to protest, but James sat down on the floor of the laundry room, intently gazing into the washing machine. So stubborn…but very sweetly so. I followed his gaze into the washing machine. Little flashes of brown came into view every once in a while. Lady was also brown. I smiled wistfully as I remembered throwing a fit when Mother refused to let me bring Lady to kindergarten. I wondered what I would have done if Lady was thrown into the washing machine. I chuckled at little James’s maturity. I knelt down and poked his plump red cheek.

“Of course I’ll stay with you, little Jamesieboo.”

The concern in James’s eyes changed into a little sparkle as he looked at me. My heart also sparkled.

“Come on now, get on my lap,” I said.

James crawled into my lap and went on staring at the washing machine.

“Thank you, Joyce” he said quietly.

“You’re very welcome, James,” I replied.

The well in the Norwegian Wood

 I've always enjoyed reading Murakami's works. The characters' thoughts and reflections always seemed to evoke some kind of sympathy in me and I oftentimes saw myself in them. However, what distinguishes this book from his other works is that there is no magical realism so typical of Murakami's novels. It's a pretty straightforward love story and bildungsroman in which teenagers come to terms with themselves, which makes it even more easier to relate to. Although I have never experienced a death of someone close to me, Murakami skillfully brings to light the confused emotions Toru Watanabe after the suicide of his best friend. I feel his confusion, his loss of direction after the death of Kizuki. The cinematic image of the woods and the scene in the well is an honest reflection of the emotions of Toru and Naoko, both of whom are haunted by the memories of Kizuki. 

          Naoko said in the cinematic memory beside the well, “It’s a terrible way to die…you couldn’t do a thing. You’d yell at the top of your lungs, but nobody’d hear you, and you couldn’t expect anybody to find you, and you’d have centipedes and spiders crawling all over you….You’d die there in this place, little by little, all by yourself.” This seems to be the case with Naoko and Toru. Toru struggles to go on in life as his past keeps holding him back. Ever since the sudden death of his best friend, Kizuki, he has been haunted by the incident, prompting him to move out of town and continue studying where no one really knows him or what happened. He never really points out why or how exactly it has affected him, and he never opens up to his new friends. He is clammed in his own past, trapped, failing to reach out, like being trapped in the well in the middle of the woods. However, when he meets Naoko, he and Naoko share this distinct connection, begin to see each other more often, but they never mention Kizuki. On Naoko’s 20^th birthday, Naoko breaks down, her emotions seep out, but after that, Naoko runs away from Toru, and recluses deeper into the well.

           One of Murakami’s recurring themes in his works is his criticism of the inability of the Japanese to openly express their feelings and that deficiency affects people permanently, leading them to a life of alienation that prevents them from ever reaching happiness. I thought this was clearly expressed in the first three chapters of the book. Currently, the characters are trapped in the well in the woods and the next chapters will reveal whether they succeed in escaping a terrible death. 

“A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings” and “The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World” – Two Portrayals of Christian Mythology

           Gathered from the two stories of Garcia Marquez, the genre of magic realism seems to be a natural combination of mythology and everyday life. Whether or not Garcia Marquez intended his two magical stories, “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings” and “The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World,” to be perceived as portrayals of the Christian mythology, the two characters from which the stories gain their titles from seem to be a some sort of representation of Christ in life and in death, and the other characters’ response, the everyday life element, to this mythological element tell readers something of human nature.

           Starting with “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings,” the story seems to refer to the Second Coming, the coming of Christ again. This unknown creature seems to be a celestial being in that it has wings and it is reminiscent of an angel, and this celestial creature came down to earth. However, other than the winged state of the man itself, the portrayal of the old man cannot be rendered any more un-angelic. His wings were “huge buzzard wings, dirty and half-plucked” and he himself had “only a few faded hairs left on his bald skull and very few teeth in his mouth.” In fact, if it were not for the wise neighbor’s declaration of “he’s an angel,” it is doubtful that anyone would have made a similar connection. Due to his dilapidated and filthy appearance, he is abused by the people around him (just as Jesus Christ was doubted by and later tortured by people around him). “The cripples pulled out feathers to touch [the wings’] defective parts with, and even the most merciful threw stones at him, trying to get him to rise…” This reflects the cruelty of human nature and raises the question that if people would recognize the Second Coming if it actually occurred. The messiah rarely seems like one and with our human limitations to only focus on appearances and results, the story questions our ability to actually perceive and acknowledge the miracles around us. Many children’s fables take on this kind of plot – a disguised king roams a village and the single one villager who acts decently in front of the disguised king is the ultimate hero. Yet, the reality is not that one villager, but the rest of the villagers. Take Pelayo’s family, for instance – the representation of common people. The coming of the old man actually blessed them with miraculous benefits as with his coming the fever of the baby dissipated and great wealth was garnered. However, rather than being thankful to the old man, they are unappreciative and resentful to him. It is only when he flies away when Elisenda seems to feel a tinge of regret.

           Thus, if “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings” spoke of the limitations of human nature through magic realism, then “The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World” tells of how people can improve on their lives. Before the arrival of the drowned man, Esteban, life in the village was monotonous and hard as connoted in the descriptions of the village with descriptions such as “stone courtyards with no flowers” and “desert-like cape.” There is no sense of compassion or empathy until they find Esteban and this drowned man springs up emotions in the villagers – both in women and in men. After they send Esteban away, the village is enriched in order to honor the memory of Esteban, but in doing so they actually improve their own lives as well. (1) They are prompted to become a true close-knit community as “through him all the inhabitants of the village became kinsmen.” (2) Furthermore, the previous descriptions of “stone” and “desert” turned into “gay colors,” “springs among the stones,” and “flowers on the cliffs.” In Christian mythology, Jesus Christ’s death brought renewed life and redemption for the people. In the short story, Esteban seems to be the martyred Christ, then the village is the common people and since the villagers are redeemed by their interaction with him, so perhaps the world can be redeemed and improved.

           Indeed, this interpretation of the two short stories is only one level of the story and there can exist other interpretations. However, I perceived that the magical element of the two stories was the Christian mythology and the realism element was the ordinary inhabitants of the setting. Thus by the representation of Christ in life and in death and the other ordinary characters’ response to this in “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings” and “The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World,” Garcia Marquez is making his commentary that human nature has its cruel aspects but it is something that can be improved on or redeemed.

(1) Steele, Helen, “THE HANDSOMEST DROWNED MAN IN THE WORLD,” GABRIEL GARCIA MARQUEZ https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&q=cache:wD4RF8vOFIMJ:www.guernicus.com/academics/pdf/marquez.pdf+&hl=en&pid=bl&srcid=ADGEEShUEDupOg5IVUilo7QzcRWDkEzYW3r3zPdYUR2IogICunhbn0jtHEU4SstyDJsfdZPUsPA_WQJqV-GqJVMWy_-ztL7YrpLe07iUBq-FVpV3pU0sOMUkYfjL5ooewX2YSoSrf-VX&sig=AHIEtbR13bIOYaBRG7Ooodbk508alGQOlw

(2) ibid.

The Dead Reading Journal

Joyce takes great measures to present the readers with a joyous, friendly occasion, but careful readers may notice that the occasion is not as warm or inviting as it seems. By obscuring the boundaries that separate life and death, Joyce is criticizing those whose lives are devoid of intimacy, emotional connection, and energy. Through several subtly nuanced descriptions and bits of dialogue, the author undercuts the celebratory nature of the evening. For example, Gretta looks "perished alive" and all evening Gabriel had "a gloom cast over him." Everyone in the room is virtually “dead.” Even the drunkard Freddy, whose exaggerated gestures and words provide some comic relief, is “dead” because although he is living, he’s an utter failure. He fails to be a proper son and his automatic actions and reactions that result from too much drinking fail mechanically as his comments are often inappropriate. He can’t seem to escape his drunken state, with everyone expecting him to turn up “screwed” at the party. Thus, it can be seen that underneath the Aunts’ apparently hearty feast, there is a deeply ironic subtext which suggests that once people reach a certain point in their lives, everyday life becomes routine and regimented.

Perhaps the main character Gabriel is the most prominent example of this in “The Dead.” Gabriel’s lack of connection is heavily suggested throughout the party through his encounters with women. He fails to connect with or understand Lily or Mrs. Ivors, and reaches its climax with his dealing of his wife, Gretta. Readers can sense his lack of spontaneity, as he quotes himself in the after-dinner toast and later in the evening when he considers professing his love for Gretta. Even such "moments of ecstasy" lack all enthusiasm and exhilaration, and ultimately culminates to a negative epiphany. The negative diction he uses even while thinking of his wife as he “strove to restrain himself from breaking out into brutal language about the sottish Malins and his pound. He longed to…crush her body against his, to overmaster her,” suggests that the love Gabriel supposedly feels for his life is a mere desire to overpower her. He also admits that he wanted to “forget the years of their dull existence together and remember only their moments of ecstasy. For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul or hers.” However, he fails to escape the dull routine due to his realization of his alienation and disconnection from his wife, and through her narration of the past, it is revealed that the only character who seems to have been able to sustain any connection with passion or feeling is the one character in the story who is already dead, Michael Furey, thus the irony. Through subtle melancholic overtones, Joyce is critical of the “dead” society.

To be honest, even when living the hectic life of KMLA, it is hard to forget that we have wonderful friends and teachers around us, and we often don’t find the time to connect with them, to really understand them. Finally entering my last year in KMLA, I fell into a routine – perhaps not as far as a state of paralysis, but KMLA is no longer a new, vivacious environment to me. Somewhere along my three years here, KMLA has become a “been there, done that” kind of place. I saw a little bit of myself in Gabriel. I fell into my own routine here in KMLA and, because of familiarity, become emotionally detached from those around me. Recently, I’ve faced a situation where I failed to understand one of my dear friends. As editor-in-chief of Minjok Herald, I have the power and responsibility to have the final decision on most aspects of the publication. One of my co-workers from the photography crew and friends was in charge of drawing the cover of Minjok Herald. For the sake of efficiency and specialization (and because I don’t know much about design), I like to allow my photography and design crews an extent of independency from my interference. Thus, I trusted they were doing well and since they did not inform me of the progress, I did not ask. Then, one day, my friend asked me for feedback for her final drawing of the cover. I saw that the drawing style was not clean-cut and simple as I wanted and expected it to be, and I told her my opinion. She was clearly upset and started throwing angry words at me via chat. I was surprised by her reaction. She asked me for feedback, I gave it to her; and in order to prevent her efforts from going to waste, I even assured her that since it could not be used for the main cover, her drawing would be used for a feature cover within the paper since both the design chief and I thought it better suited there. Because of our clash, we had a long chat battle between us, sending paragraph-long chats that scathingly refuted our previous assertions. I realized this was going nowhere. Cyber-space had its limitations. It allowed no emotional interaction – only logical refutations of our own arguments.

I shut my laptop and decided to actually talk to her face to face. I went into her room. She seemed very upset. I asked her if we could talk…and we did. And little by little, we came to a mutual understanding. She wasn’t so much disappointed in the fact that her drawing was not used in the cover as my lack of feedback and interest in the process of her making the cover. She told me that she felt much pressure making the cover by herself and she thought that she would receive help from me and the chiefs. Of course, in the real world, the outer society, she would just be told from her superiors that this isn’t a nursery school. It’s a harsh world out there. But this was a school, a school where each and every one of us roaming around this huge campus forms a warmer, more close-knit society of its own. I had a duty to her both as her superior and as her friend. I realized that I just considered her a member of an organization – which calls for efficiency and quality – and not an individual with human qualities. Of course, if I just considered her wholly as an individual, the organization would fail to function properly. But I realized a balance is needed. And balance comes from understanding. Balance comes from connection. Without this connection between humanity, we become "dead" as Joyce suggests. 

"Araby" Final Paragraph

      From a distance, James Joyce's "Araby" might appear to tell a rather pessimistic story about the tarnishing of childhood innocence. After all, when the nameless narrator looks into the reality of Araby - closing markets, a shallow shopkeeper, and a lack of money to actually buy anything - his innocent dreams to become a knight for the love of his life are shattered. However, on the other hand, we must ask ourselves if these fantasies reflect the innocence of a child or the blindness engendered by the society's frozen state of mind. in the beginning of the story, Joyce makes a reference to blindness of the neighborhood as he calls North Richmond Street "being blind," and  in the same sentence brings forth a religious institution, the Christian Brother's School. The small neighborhood of North Richmond Street, as small and inward looking it is, is heavily influenced by this religious institution, the Catholic Church. The Church extending to the personal living quarters of the inhabitants of North Richmond Street. The back drawing room of the boy's house, was a priest's former room in which he had died. The priest, however, was not "charitable" as the narrator associates him with. One comes to wonder how he had so much money to bequeath after his death. Did not engage in charitable deeds when living? A suggestion of corrupted religion is at work in this part of the story. This is the kind of religion that influences the narrator's way of thinking. He fails to fully realize that he is sexually attracted to Mangan’s sister, although the paragraph about "O love, O love" is highly suggestive, but rather sees in his crush what most would see in the Virgin Mary as "her figure defined by the light from the half-opened door.” This means that she is elevated in the splendor that would be found in a religious icon, which is certainly not the case. Therefore, it is perhaps more accurate to assume that "Araby" is more focused on the satirical aspects of society rather than on childhood innocence. "Musty from having been long enclosed, hung in all the rooms," which he uses to describe the narrator's back drawing room can also mean the musty state of mind of Ireland that needs to be aired and freshened. In this sense, the narrator's naive fantasies might not have their roots solely in youthful innocence, but also in the pious views of a backward society.

“The Lady with the Dog” Reading Journal – The Story of the Man who Resorts to Love

             Chekhov’s short stories can be characterized by “character over plot.” That is to say, the plot originates from the inner force of its characters, and the story line is never imposed for its own sake. With that said, the character to focus on in this particular story, “The Lady and the Dog,” is definitely Dmitri Gurov for it is he and his changing attitudes toward Anna and himself that drive the plot. “The Lady with the Dog” is a rather scandalous story of its time with obvious themes of relationships, adultery, and love. Through a thorough analysis of Dmitri’s character, I want to explore his take on the whole concept of a relationship and speculate on why such a shift of viewpoint occurred on his part. How did the subject of his sexual conquest turn into the love of his life? How did the adulterous affair turn into his liberation? What is love, anyway? Chekhov, being Chekhov, does not give an answer straight out. However, he gives hints and leaves the readers room to interpret.

             Dmitri, in the initial part of the story, is drawn out as an unappealing chauvinistic player, hardly winning any favors from us. He is bitter and cynical about women and the world as a whole. We learn from the beginning that he is unhappily married, that he is in his middle ages, and that he indulges in frequent adultery. He enjoys the company of women but avoids getting into a deep relationship. “Every intimacy, which at first so agreeably diversifies life and appears a light and charming adventure, inevitably grows into a regular problem of extreme intricacy, and in the long run the situation becomes unbearable.” It seems that our male protagonist is afraid of getting into deep relationships and dealing with “love.” He wants to keep things simple, which is why he takes up another opportunity to enjoy a “swift, fleeting love affair” with the newcomer of Yalta. He addresses her not as a human being but a label, such as “the lady with the dog” or “the lady in the beret,” reinforcing Dmitri’s viewpoint of women being a temporary plaything that does not need naming.

             However, the journalistic, dry prose of Chekhov turns poetic near the end of section I, giving a hint at how Dmitri comes to feel love for Anna. “They walked and talked of the strange light on the sea: the water was of a soft warm, lilac hue, and there was a golden streak from the moon upon it,” is very poetic. In this paragraph, we learn that Dmitri studied to be an Opera singer but works in the confined regulations of a bank. Dmitri probably feels trapped in his life. It is also the first time we learn the woman by name, Anna Sergeyevna. This hints at the origins of his love as this description describes how both are living unhappy lives and Dmitri calls the “lady” by name. When Dmitri goes back to the hotel, he thinks about her youth, her diffidence and angularity, and her “slender delicate neck, her lovely grey eyes.” He is attracted to her youth and frailty. However, he concludes that there is something pathetic about her, and avoids facing his sprouting love for Anna.

             The recurring image of the sea reinforces the hint mentioned above. In the first mentioning of the sea, Chekhov’s prose suddenly took a shift and it revealed their meaningless lives. The sea comes up once again after Anna’s emotional outburst. Dmitri takes her to the sea, and Dmitri’s reflections are revealed. “So it sounds now, and it will sound as indifferently and monotonously when we are all no more…in this constancy,…, there lies hid, perhaps, a pledge of our eternal salvation, of the unceasing movement of life upon earth, the unceasing progress towards perfection.” Through his thoughts, Dmitri’s hunger for something deeper in life, some meaning in life, is shown. Maybe the lineup of affairs he had was just an expression for a longing for intimacy. The sea also recurs when Dmitri parts with Anna. After he ends the affair almost dispassionately, Gurov astonishes himself by finding love. I believe that the sea, with its constancy and sublimation, helps Gurov find meaning in his life and ultimately come in terms with love. I don’t think Chekhov meant it as a direct trigger for Dmitri to find love, but its recurring images of the sea is integrated with Chekhov’s steady realization of love, and thus the importance of nature in Chekhov’s works. The sea reminds Dmitri and the readers that man lives and dies in obscurity (compared to the sea) and to find " a pledge of eternal salvation." For Dmitri, this eternal salvation was love.

           Another recurring image is the color grey. Starting from the grey eyes of Anna and Starting from the grey eyes of Anna, then the table grey with dust, the grey army cloth, the grey fence, culminating in the greying of his hair. I believe that this recapped readers and the character with the idea of age. We know that Dmitri is in his middle ages, which leads one to think if he’s in a midlife crisis. I think it is safe to say that Dmitri was attracted to Anna’s freshness and inexperience. He was trying to recapture his youth. However, at the end of the story, he recognizes that Anna too will age like him (relating back to her grey eyes), but still he loves her. I believe that this can work to his selfishness. Since Dmitri is aging, his days of easily seducing women are limited. He needs not a string of lovers but one he can grow old with, and Anna, who is so dependent on him and adores him, is the subject of his final love.

             Thus, I think for Dmitri, love is pretty selfish. He comes to terms with genuine love because he wants to find meaning in life (reinforced by the sea) and  because his age (shown through the images of grey) is telling him to settle on one woman. He resorts to what he thinks is “true” love. However, there are some implications that his condescending air has not completely gone. During both of Anna’s emotional outbursts, Dmitri is eating something – a watermelon in the first and tea in the second. However, there are still implications of a bright future, a happy ending, if you will. Ultimately though, the relationship between a man and a woman can never be defined, thus the ambiguous conclusion. 

“The Student” Reading Journal: The Strange Mixture of Misery and Joy

Joyce Lee

       While reading the student, I could not help but feel that Chekhov’s use of language evokes much feeling and conveys the emotions of the narrator, Ivan. Chekhov skillfully manages to mix in emotion within his dry, objective, and somewhat journalistic tone. The shift in his descriptions and sentence structure echoes the shift in Ivan’s emotions, which speaks of the main theme of the short story.

       “The Student” starts out with images of desolate bleakness. The description of nature is predominant in the first part of the story. “Something alive droned pitifully with a sound like blowing into an empty bottle,” and “a penetrating wind blew inappropriately from the east,” culminating into a feeling of cheerlessness, remoteness, and loneliness. The language is crude and laconic. The following mentioning of the figures of the past, Ivan the Terrible, Peter, and Rurik arouse the thought that this desolate gloom is a chronic state. It seems to speak of misery as being a integral and perpetual part of human nature. "The same darkness, the same feeling of oppression - all these had existed, did exist and would exist, and the lapse of a thousand years would make life no better." This powerful description of desolation and depression dominates the first part of the story.

       Then, right after this bleak introduction and insight into the misery of humans, Ivan encounters two widows and tells them of the (rather simplified) Biblical narrative of Peter and Jesus. Religion was a dominant factor in 19th century, and it seems that after being depressed after his rather dooming insight, Ivan and his young 22-year-old self wanted to relate and share the suffering of the past with someone. To gather sympathy of the bleakness of life? To garner reverence for his knowledge? Perhaps. But what he gets is an emotional outburst from the two women. This response from the widows ignites joy from Ivan, as powerful as the depression portrayed in the beginning of the story. The rhythm of the language brings out this happiness of the student who learned something new - the response and connection of those suffering in the present to those who suffered in the past. The last paragraph is composed of one thick paragraph, with thoughts flowing freely from the river by the ferry to the chief thing in human life in a single sentence, Ivan excited to share his discovery. There is no evident logic and the last paragraph gives an ambiguous conclusion but it hopes for a happier future.

      Chekhov mingled the past and present by the subtle parallelisms of Peter's betrayal and the setting surrounding the two widows. As he shows, sufferings and misery are indeed constant. However, they also have meaning and significance enough to evoke emotions in the present, which makes suffering have some meaning and significance. This rather strange, somewhat paradoxical theme continues on to the language of the conclusion. The last paragraph juxtaposes the ominous image of the "cold, crimson sunset" and a beacon of hope, the "narrow streak of light." Chekhov said that "The Student" was his favorite "optimistic" work. The final notes of the story focus not on the coldness and dejectedness of the suffering, but resound of enchanment, happiness, and beauty. Apart from whether this story is realism or not, Chekhov's mastery of language to convey a deep message about of suffering and joy itself is simply amazing.

        

Catcher in the Rye - Holden and little James

Introduction: This passage is based on chapter 10 where Holden decides to go the the Lavender Room in the hotel he's staying and digresses into talking about his little sister Phoebe. This Holden is inside KMLA putting on a clean shirt to go to the cafeteria and describes his little brother James. The character James is largely based on my own little brother and I'm idealizing him like Holden does with Phoebe.

           I didn’t have much to do. I had to write this essay for some teacher, but it wouldn’t take long. The one thing I hate is being all studious when you don’t have much to do. So I went to the closet, took out a decent-looking shirt, and I went in the bathroom and washed and changed my shirt. What I thought I’d do, I thought I’d go upstairs to the cafeteria and see what the hell the people were doing. There was always some hooligan throwing some goddam act in the cafeteria.

           While I was changing my shirt, I damn near gave my kid brother James a buzz, though. I certainly felt like talking to him on the phone. Somebody with sense and all. But I couldn’t take a chance on giving him a buzz, because he was only a little kid and he wouldn’t have been up, let alone anywhere near the goddam phone. I thought of maybe hanging up the phone if my parents answered, but that wouldn’t have worked either. They’d know it was me. My mother always knows it’s me. You never get away with anything with my mother. But I really felt like shooting some crap with little James for a while.

           You should see him. You never saw such a sweet little kid. He’s really smart. I mean he’s had all A’s ever since he’s started school. When he was just a four-year-old puny little ball of skin and hair, he’d be drawing these pictures of meadows and barns that just about killed you. As a matter of fact, I’m the only dumb one in the family. Even my parents are pretty damn smart with degrees and all. I’m the only really dumb one. But you ought to see little James. I sometimes call him Jamsieboo just for the hell of it. But he doesn’t throw a fit like other kids do when you call them names like Jamsieboo. It’s real nice and all. He has this sort of coarse black hair that was cut really short because he tried cutting his own hair and messed up. It wasn’t weird or anything though because he has a nice little round head. It’s probably longer now. My mother sometimes waxes it on special occasions. But it’s nice either way. He’s only ten. He’s quite plump. But a nice plump. A blueberry-plump. I watched him once from the window when he was playing in the backyard. He would be running around the shrubs mimicking birdcalls, and that’s what he is, blueberry-plump. You’d like him. I mean if you tell little Jamesieboo something he really listens to you. He doesn’t pretend to listen and think of something else like other phonies do. I mean you can tell him about all the phony assignments the school makes you do here and he’ll look right into you eyes and sympathize. Really sweet kid that James. He once came to the school that’s secluded in the north and surrounded by mountains. That’s probably the only decent thing in the school. The mountains. He loves nature. It just about kills him. He can name all the trees up here, I’m not kidding. He can tell the difference between a birch and a larch just by looking at the bark. He’s always saying that if he was ever born again, he would ask God to make him a tree. A kid saying that, it kills me. He’d take my hand and start telling me all the trees and birds he’s been drawing and if he could come visit often to draw me in the trees. I’d tell him yeah he could. He knew that I was lying though. And his eyes became all droopy and sad. Those big doe eyes. He can get very emotional sometimes. I mean for a boy. And something else he does is he reads these books over and over again. Only they’re fantasy books with dragons and adventures. The books are all tattered and folded and I tried to get him to read other books, but he still reads them. I could read him a sentence and he’ll know exactly what chapter it is on and his eyes get all sparkly and bright when he talks about what’s happening in that particular moment. If it’s a part he really likes, he gets up and starts acting the scenes out. That just kills me. Little James. I swear to God you’d like him. He’s ten now and not such a tiny little kid any more, but she still kills everybody – everybody with any sense, anyway.

           Anyway, he was somebody you always felt like talking to on the phone. But I was too afraid my parents would answer, and then they’d find out I wasn’t doing that essay and probably throw some goddam fit. So I just finished putting on my shirt. 

SAT writing practice

Prompt: Is creativity needed in the world today? 

           It is the 21^st century, and the world is relatively stable due to the increased standard of living. So now, due to this stability, the masses scream for new, innovative ideas, products, anything. That is to say, creativity is an asset that makes a person or product stand out and survive in the world of competition and create something of value.

           To begin with, consider Steve Jobs, the CEO of the renowned company of Apple. Steve Jobs was a person not afraid to take risks and was innovative and creative with his ideas and put those creative thoughts into action, creating the company Apple that produces many revolutionary products that is well-accepted by the masses. Steve Jobs was not the inventor of the computer or laptop or an operative system…but he was creative. He saw where the pre-existing Microsoft Inc. lacked and decided to make it better using his creativity. Steve Jobs has always placed a great importance of creativity, saying that in this world creativity, or the lack thereof, can make you or break you. Therefore, due to Steve Jobs’ philosophy and ideas, Apple is currently dominating the consumer sentiment and is leading the way for other similar innovations to come. Therefore, the example of Steve Jobs shows that perseverance, hard-work, talent, while important, is not enough and that creativity makes the difference.

Moreover, consider the example of Pixar, a computer animation film studio that clearly shows that creativity is an important factor to success in today’s world. Pixar fosters creativity within their company to create a world of imagination, fantasy, and wonder for their audiences. For example, Pixar creates an environment where everyone is free to express their ideas and incorporate all those ideas into creating something of value. The people of Pixar work by the philosophy that a single idea means very little and that it takes thousands of good ideas in order to produce anything of importance. Therefore, everyone is safe to say what they think and there are no barriers between different statuses within the company. As a result of this free and idea-centered environment, Pixar produces a great story that appeals to many and stands at one of the world’s top animation studios, with the recent movie Toy Story 3 becoming the highest-grossing animated film of all time worldwide. Thus, I believe that it is safe to say that creativity is needed in this world, for it leads to a creation of value.

           Thus, the example of Steve Jobs and Pixar substantiate the notion that creativity is much- needed in today’s society. In this world, creativity is the deciding factor to create success as well as a better world for all. 

Back-and-forth Game -Mr. Moon Assignment

I was crying uncontrollably. I was surrounded by aliens. There were creatures with blue and green eyes, and red and blonde hair, completely different from the brown-eyed and black-haired people I was so used to. They were calling out to me in a strange language that I could not understand and I wanted desperately to go home and back to safety…That was my view of American preschool. As a four-year-old starting preschool in America, I was petrified. Unfortunately, this situation occurred quite often in my lifetime. I moved back and forth between Korea and America, constantly forced to face two completely different environments and adapt accordingly. For me, it was a nightmare. Just as I was feeling like I belonged, our family moved back either to Korea or America. Life has always been like this – back and forth, back and forth, never staying in one place for too long. I longed for a sense of belonging, and I guess that was the game of my life – to live a life in two countries and find somewhere I belong.

I hated my back-and-forth life. It was like a rocking horse, moving from here to there, here to there. I had to go through the same routine every time. I am plunged into a completely new environment in a different country. I try my hardest to fit in. I study twice as hard to receive better grades than my peers and boldly approach strangers to make friends. However, just as I am getting used to life, I move and am faced with another completely different environment in a new country. As hard as I tried, I always felt like an outsider. I felt different from the rest my peers. It was a feeling deep inside that I could not easily explain. I was too Korean to be American and too American to be Korean. I did not know who I was or where I belonged. I resented this life that was making me an outsider and harbored a grudge against my father’s job that caused our family to move from country to country. I moved back and forth into two completely different cultures of America and Korea, starting my life over and over again. It was a tiring and difficult game with many obstacles, but I had to play it nevertheless.

I decided to change my strategy of playing the game. I soon realized that it was futile to lament something that was never going to change just like the steady rocking of the rocking horse is never going to change. Therefore, although it was difficult at times, I tried to look at my life in a more positive light, and suddenly, my life was not so bad anymore. I could see myself beginning to adapt to both worlds at a rapider pace and, little by little, gained confidence in myself. Then, as subtly as a bruise appears, I was a changed person. I became a person that does not give up easily during hardships, a person that fluently speaks both Korean and English, and a person who could understand both Korean and American culture. All of my merits are results of the back-and-forth game I played. I realized that I could belong in both worlds as a Korean in America and an Americanized Korean in Korea. Right now, I am setting my roots in Korea in Korean Minjok Leadership Academy, so I can present myself as a proud Korean when I become someone who will have, not only Korea, but the world as her stage. I now know that playing this difficult game subtly and elegantly shaped me into the character I am today.

I did not choose to play this game of life, but in the end, I found what I wanted. I found that, with my roots in Korean nationality, I could belong anywhere. I now do not think myself as an outsider, but a person who was lucky enough to experience two countries to a great extent. This game was as unchanging and steady as a child’s rocking horse and was subtle as a bruise in shaping who I am. Now, knowing what I know, if I was back at that preschool as a little four-year-old girl, instead of crying uncontrollably, I would probably have a bright sunny smile on my face.

Review of Pranav Mistry's TED video

           Frankly speaking, I’m a technophobe. Machinery, gadgets, digital-anything, i-anything are really not my area of expertise. A girl that’s so bold and zealous at everything becomes so small and tentative when it comes to any techy-device. I know what you’re probably thinking: caveman, out-of-date, incongruous. Yeah, I’m still learning. I guess I haven’t opened my eyes to the prodigious and auspicious aspects of technology yet. However, there was one video that I saw recently that instigated my fascination for technology – a TED video of Pranav Mistry’s “The thrilling potential of the SixthSense technology.”

Basically, what the speaker Pranav Mistry is aiming for is the assimilation of the digital and real world. It was indeed jaw-dropping. Mistry was the kind of person who put his abstract thoughts into tangible actions, which I revere highly. He was skeptical of the status quo of the world and thought in a novel perspective, reaping eccentric and unprecedented ideas and devices. According to his presentation, he asked himself, “Rather than using a keyboard and mouse, why can I not use my computer in the same way that I interact in the physical world?” and he goes on to explain about his exploration of this question and the resulting gesture-interface device made out of his mouse with his own diligent labor. Mistry continued experimenting and making other devices in the same process of questioning “Why not this?” then investing his time to satiate this question, and he made a sticky-note integration system, a pen that can draw in three dimensions, and a cool device where you can find information on an object by putting the object on an interface rather than just typing in a keyword. 
           Until this point, Mistry put his objective into taking a part of the world into the digital world. But he reversed his thinking and again asked himself, "Why can I not take the approach in a reverse way?" and the resulting SixthSense device is laudable. If you think of it, the digital world is confined into a gadget that fits in our pockets. Minstry's device removed this confine and released the digital world into our real, physical world. To borrow some of his own words explaining the device, "The most interesting thing about this particular technology is that you can carry your digital world with you wherever you go. You can start using any surface, any wall around you, as an interface. The camera is actually tracking all your gestures. Whatever you're doing with your hands, it is understanding that gesture." Now the applications of the resulting SixthSense device is not having to get out your camera in order to take pictures, but just make a gesture of taking a picture with your hands and there you have it. Also, you can make a phonecall using your palm as an interface, you can see reviews of a book just by holding it in your hand, you can extract information about people just by looking at them...the applications are incessant and engenders amazement and wonder.

            Now, I guess this novel technology provokes the question, "Is this assimilation necessary?" Many might think that for a technophobe like me, this integration of the digital and physical world will scare me. In a way it does. The side effects of an innovation like this will be huge, far-reaching, and long-lasting, and thus cannot be ignored. Pragmatically speaking, I do not think that this device will ever reach the hands of the public in fear of misuse. Nevertheless, regardless of whether the public can use it or not, the capacity of human imagination and actually converting that imagination into reality is to be extolled. This innovation is amazing and opens countless possibilities. Even for a technophobe, I believe that this invention is worth knowing more about. The reason why I am not good with machines is that I have to learn the language of the digital world to work these things. I have to be familiar with the gadgets, all those buttons, the icons, etc, but if the digital world was removed of its "gadget-confine" I would be able to use it with less hindrance. I won't have to switch back and forth with the two worlds. Humans invented technology to enhance the physical world. But at the present stage, the technology is replacing physical interactions and artifacts with digital ones, such as e-book, MSN, social networks etc. In his innovation, Mistry is striving to make connections between the digital and physical world. It is a step forward.
             I saw wonders and perhaps a glimpse of the future in Mistry's TED video. Just browsing through TED videos makes me content to see that there is not a paucity of human imagination, inspiration, and creation in the world today. Mistry clearly showed viewers his intentions of integrating the digital and physical world by presenting his various experiments with everyday objects. At first, it was to satiate his curiosity, but now he has intentions of sharing it with others to make the world a better place - a place "where people don't end up being machines sitting in front of other machines." But until then, I monotonously hit the buttons of my keyboard to write this review...and I probably have to ask someone how to embed a TED video in a blog post!


Reference:
John Miedema, Seamless integration of digital and physical spaces http://www.teleread.com/paul-biba/seamless-integration-of-digital-and-physical-spaces-by-john-miedema/
Paul Biba, Marketers begin integrating physical and digital worlds http://blog.joelrubinson.net/2011/07/marketers-begin-integrating-digital-and-physical-worlds/
Pranav Mistry, The thrilling potential of the SixthSense technology http://www.ted.com/talks/pranav_mistry_the_thrilling_potential_of_sixthsense_technology.html

Ola Restaurant Review

            It’s just around dinnertime. The sky hints at darkness and the nighttime chill of the lakeside is carried in the wind. The road weaves and turns along the lakeshore, and the car finally takes a turn into a car-filled driveway. The plank card marking the driveway reads “Italian Restaurant Ola!” but doesn’t scream at passersby “Come eat at our restaurant! Come buy our food!” like most other restaurants around the Baekun Lake. In fact, a modest glow is all it takes for cars to fill the parking space in front of the humble Italian restaurant, Ola.

           The history of Italian food in Korea is not particularly distinguished. Frankly speaking, I think it’s despicable. Yes, there are a lot of restaurants that offer dishes that are both innovative and delectable within the scope of Asian cooking, but go across a few more seas, and the Korean chefs just don’t seem to get it right. However, in this peaceful lakeside on the small city of Anyang, a pleasant surprise awaits spaghetti lovers who believe that Korean chefs can’t manage Italian or any European cuisine.

           There’s a sort of formal ambience to this restaurant. The typical sweater and sneakers seems out of place and semi-formal attire seems most suitable. If you get over the fact that the overall atmosphere is more France than Italy, the décor and service complement each other quite nicely. From the valet parkers outside the restaurant to the penguin-suited waiters, everyone’s very formal about the whole occasion. But the one thing that seems to distract the overall ambience of the restaurant is the view from the tables. The building’s walls are covered with glass to reveal the outside landscape. A lake view would be stunning and add the finishing touches to creating the formal and classy atmosphere of Ola, but all the glass-covered walls reveal are the trees lining the road outside. While it isn’t hideous (actually in the spring the cherry blossoms are quite lovely), a lake view while dining is tempting.

           What is more interesting is the food. I admit, Ola is not the kind of restaurant that innovates and experiments with different types of food, but the taste is unparalleled. Like most Korean restaurants, the preliminary course is bread. Not those mass-produced ones they give out at Outback, but real bread. Garlic bread, just out of the oven, crispy, soft, and warm. Maybe a little too big to be the wee little food before the actual meal, but I consume them with no complaint. The appetizer I recommend is the Zucca soup, pumpkin soup served in a pumpkin. Dulcet, mellow, nectarous, sapid would all be words describing this soup. The rich saffron color implies the richness of its taste. A thick soup with a full yet soft taste that spreads into my mouth much to the joy of my taste buds. The sweetness of the soft chunks of pumpkin harmonizes beautifully with the creamy taste of the soup, and the little bowl is scraped clean. 

            Perhaps the best dish is the C-cucina, a seafood cream spaghetti with pizza bread on top. The waiter cuts the bread open and the inside is revealed. The fresh, various seafood steams inside a soup of creamy whiteness. The cream sauce is the deciding factor of the excellence of the dish. An aroma of sesame seeds being roasted fills the air, and the cream augmented with melted mozzarella slides through my tongue leaving a trail of sleek and clean taste, not too greasy and not too strong. A nice dish to go with the C-cucina is the Crossante, a fusion dish of Korea and Italy. The flavorful tomato sauce has a hint of pepper, creating a spicy taste, which is an unexpectedly delicious mix, in my opinion. On the bottom of the dish, there's a floor of brownly cooked rice made juicy by the spicy tomato sauce. The combination is heavenly, a successful case of fusion. 

          Ola, with its increased popularity, opened in 5 other places in Korea. I've been to some, such as Ola2 and 3, but I find myself heading toward the original Ola. The other branches may have a better atmosphere, but the food itself is at its best in the original Ola. Ola has its eccentricities such as the fusion Crossante dish, but it mostly has its pleasures. After I ate Ola's spaghetti, it's pain to eat spaghetti at another restaurant. 
★★★☆☆

Morning glory, purple, smile

        A morning glory does not surpass a rose in beauty or a rosemary in its fragrance, but it possesses this simple beauty that only few can see. The color is purple, an enigmatic, yet warm color. It grows as its vine wraps around a stick, but if you unwind the vine, the morning glory subtly perseveres and wraps itself back up. The world may be full of vileness and hardships, but it constantly looks up at the sun without ever losing its smile.

The Body - Memoir of childhood

Stephen King's The Body begins with a narrative, sometime in the future, that describes how the most important things are the hardest things to say. It’s painfully true. Most of the time, words are just not enough to convey the intensity and value of the emotions felt. As this story is, in essence, a memoir of one of the characters in the story, this introduction is very appropriate. So it’s basically saying, “Okay, listen. I’m going to describe memories that are precious to me beyond compare. But know that the words and sentences you read here aren’t everything, merely a small part of what I felt.” And with that said, 'Gordie', or a fictional representation of Stephen King, begins his story.
           I would like to begin my little memory. I thought about my own childhood when I read this, and what kind of friends I had. There were four of us - me, Na-young, my brother, and Byung-woo. We weren't the same age or gender, me and Na-young being girls and three years older than my brother and Byung-woo, but we managed to grow close just the same. We were pairs of siblings, my brother and I, and Na-young and Byung-Woo. And we had some adventures of our own. We spent our days racing each other on sidewalks, finding a beehive and coming up with plans to throw rocks at it without dying, endeavoring to stay quiet in our rooms so as to not provoke our parents to saying that its time to leave, and when we ran out of things to do there was always the hide-and-go-seek which was usable anytime and anywhere. However, our ultimate dream was to find a clubhouse all to ourselves, kind of like the treehouse in The Body. We always dreamed about what our clubhouse would look like. A place where no parents could find us, a hide-out sort of a place to share secrets and hang out, somewhere where there were lots of trees and that looked both cozy and magical. But, where can you find a place like that in Korea, so our clubhouse prospered in our imagination. We would go to some apartment-property playground and pretend that a random slide was our clubhouse. We would go collect flowers, clovers, grass to match the place to the clubhouse of our imagination until the sun went down and our parents told us that it was time to go.
             It's amazing how much you learn from these childhood friends. Na-young, my brother, and Byung-woo, they opened my eyes to a whole new world, and I hope I opened theirs. I found out that I was brave (perhaps stupid), daring to do things that they would be too timid or scared to do, such as climbing up the swings and attempting to walk on the bar or eating an unknown berry from a tree. Yes, as we grew older, our roles in each others lives became smaller and smaller and we each went on our separate ways. Na-young and Byung-woo became just a memory and my brother became more of just a related being rather than a friend. But, memory is a word that retains great power. It is capable of making one smile, chuckle, laugh, cry, ache, but to all these there's an element of pain, knowing that it's just a memory. In my mind, I still see us as little ten-year-olds and seven-year-olds searching for that clubhouse of our dreams and someday, I hope we find it.