My life should have started with drums. The booms--quiet at first--slowly crescendo, intensifying the importance of the birth of this One boy. This boy is the chosen One. As my mother was giving her all in the hospital, as I came into the world, as I nearly died with the umbilical chord around my neck, the drums give its final slam and SILENCE! Only the heartbeats of everyone in the room--now plus One--carry the rhythm of life. Later that day, I was given the Elder Wand, a diploma from Hogwarts, and some Butterbeer.
"Harry Potter was just a boy who lived. Like all of us."
-NIKKI GIOVANNI, "Sanctuary: For Harry Potter the Movie"
I have started to realize how much Death is around me. Lingering on the news, or playing around in the Philippines, It is an unrelenting force, only stopping to see the ones afflicted. Sometimes It comes by and takes someone I know--It nearly took me when I was a baby. And I'm just here, "[living] and [telling] the story" (33-34). If I am like Harry Potter, am I destined to save the world--to stop some nose-less figure from enslaving mankind or hook up with my best friend's sister? I am the boy who lived, and it is proven through my struggles. Harry Potter failed countless potions classes as I bombed a couple of tests before; Harry Potter went to a school filled with monsters as I went to school which indubitably has bullies. We all have the ability to save the "vanishing Savannah" (97-98), whatever that Savannah may be, and like Harry Potter who triumphed over the worst villain of all, we have to find out how we are going to do it.
"I'm just the boy who lived and in living I have to find my way."
-NIKKI GIOVANNI, "Sanctuary: For Harry Potter the Movie."
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Punctuation is Important. Period.
Despite the constant disagreements to the rules of writing, punctuation is the foundation of all literature in any time period, and without it, the meaning and order of a certain prose or poem is lost.
Punctuation and writing go hand-in-hand: even if changing times call for a change in the rules of literature, punctuation will always be a prevalent player in any form of writing. Emily Dickinson, a revolutionary poet of America, used the dash in order emphasize certain words or phrases. Like in her poem "I dwell in Possibility--," which solely uses dashes, she separates phrases like "--for Doors--" (Source C) to show the symbolism in her poem and also to contrast the windows mentioned in the line before. Dickinson's dashes provided a feel that a period nor a comma can not; her specific use of the dash allowed for a completely different meaning to be interpreted. Also, in "Semicolons: A Love Story," Dolnick mentions William James uses the semicolon to keep the "'stream of thought from appearing... as a wild torrent" (Source E). Because of punctuation, order is kept. As periods and commas supplied this order before, semicolons did the same for William James, showing the change in times but the same applicability of different punctuation marks. Despite these examples, people say that punctuation gives up creativity for "more precision and exactitude" (Source D). For Elizabeth Austen in her poem "On Punctuation," she is against the "dogma of the period" (Source B), flowing every line together in one stream and in essence, proclaiming her creativeness--her style--for her lack of punctuation, but this is not the case for other writers. Andrea Gibson uses Twitter as a "testing ground for her more developed writings" (Source F). Posting only a few words, she uses Twitter to get feedback and later incorporates it into her poetry, where a single punctuation mark "is enough to destroy the whole work" (Source D). This signifies that, yes, punctuation can have its limits in writing, but it can also have its own beauty in a concise manner. In all, literature is built upon punctuation, the figurative foundation of literature; every comma, period, semicolon, or dash carries its own meaning and has a everlasting importance in the unity and message of a piece of writing.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
This Is Not a Disney Story.
In the last few chapters of The Scarlet Letter, Hester never gets the European vacation she always wanted, Roger Chillingworth fades into dust, and Dimmesdale exposes his naked chest to the world and yells out his sin until he dies. Did anyone get his or her happily-ever-after in this book? Where are the feels like the ones I got at the end of Toy Story 3? Woody goes with Andy; Buzz and friends are passed down to another kid. It is hopeful--it is a new beginning. Hawthorne, on the other hand, does not give such a satisfying ending but one where everyone dies. Who got their happily-ever-after?
For Chillingworth, his death can be seen as a happy one. Obsessed with the identity of Pearl's father, Chillingworth changes from a man of knowledge to an ugly demon smiling and chuckling evilly at everyone's misfortune. Hester and Dimmesdale's sin ruined his life, but once the secret was out, the Leech lost his host and "was left with no further material to support [himself]" (255). Chillingworth died as an accomplished man, succeeding in his sole goal and free from the Devil.
Hester's life sucks, even to the end. She is never free from her scarlet letter and does not get to live the rest of her years with Dimmesdale, her true love. Instead, Dimmesdale dies, she lives with the same guilt and shame from the scarlet letter until her death, and her sin follows her past death onto her tombstone ("'ON A FIELD, SABLE, THE LETTER A, GULES'" (259)). It is sad that Hester, the pitiful character that tries to dutifully protects the identity of her partner, never gets her happily-ever-after.
Dimmesdale's ending is, in truth, a happily-ever-after. He confesses the sin that has been burdening his chest for years and dies a God-fearing man. He does not have to deal with Chillingworth's evil presence nor his double life of pastor by day and sinner by night. He is a free man, but it is hard to say if he would have been happier if he lived and left with Hester to Europe. Ignoring the fact that Chillingworth would have followed them, Dimmesdale and Hester would have that classic ending where they happily grow old together. Once their decision was made, Dimmesdale said he was "made anew" (198) and this is the "better life" (198). If everything went perfectly--and Dimmesdale decided not to confess and bail on the plan during the ceremony--. Hester and Dimmesdale would have had their happily-ever-after.
The only loser in this story is Hester, which demonstrates her strength and perseverance, but these aren't Disney endings. These three characters, all loved or hated, all reach some serenity in their deaths. Hawthorne's genius way of showcasing their ends truly prove the realness and consequences of a secret.
For Chillingworth, his death can be seen as a happy one. Obsessed with the identity of Pearl's father, Chillingworth changes from a man of knowledge to an ugly demon smiling and chuckling evilly at everyone's misfortune. Hester and Dimmesdale's sin ruined his life, but once the secret was out, the Leech lost his host and "was left with no further material to support [himself]" (255). Chillingworth died as an accomplished man, succeeding in his sole goal and free from the Devil.
Hester's life sucks, even to the end. She is never free from her scarlet letter and does not get to live the rest of her years with Dimmesdale, her true love. Instead, Dimmesdale dies, she lives with the same guilt and shame from the scarlet letter until her death, and her sin follows her past death onto her tombstone ("'ON A FIELD, SABLE, THE LETTER A, GULES'" (259)). It is sad that Hester, the pitiful character that tries to dutifully protects the identity of her partner, never gets her happily-ever-after.
Dimmesdale's ending is, in truth, a happily-ever-after. He confesses the sin that has been burdening his chest for years and dies a God-fearing man. He does not have to deal with Chillingworth's evil presence nor his double life of pastor by day and sinner by night. He is a free man, but it is hard to say if he would have been happier if he lived and left with Hester to Europe. Ignoring the fact that Chillingworth would have followed them, Dimmesdale and Hester would have that classic ending where they happily grow old together. Once their decision was made, Dimmesdale said he was "made anew" (198) and this is the "better life" (198). If everything went perfectly--and Dimmesdale decided not to confess and bail on the plan during the ceremony--. Hester and Dimmesdale would have had their happily-ever-after.
The only loser in this story is Hester, which demonstrates her strength and perseverance, but these aren't Disney endings. These three characters, all loved or hated, all reach some serenity in their deaths. Hawthorne's genius way of showcasing their ends truly prove the realness and consequences of a secret.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
I Pity the Sinner
Eve took a bite of the apple--this was the first sin. Ruining the perfection of humans, letting sin manifest itself in every human onward, Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden and had to fend for themselves. These two were God's beloved creations, tainted after the original transgression, and now, after possibly tens of thousands of years, does this sin make any difference in our lives? Many would say they don't feel the effects of this sin, nor think about it, nor believe it. Is time enough to forgive a sin?
In the Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne builds pity for Hester, the sinner everyone is talking about; she is publicly shamed, cast out of the Puritan society, and stuck to raise a child alone. But why would Hawthorne want us to pity a sinner? She is an adulteress; she cheated on her husband; she is a sinner. Even if she did it for love, is she justified? If my neighbor (bless that grandma) cheated on her husband because she loved someone else, would that be okay? Like the Puritan society, we would label her an adulteress and shun her. "Regardless of your reason, you cheated," my teachers would say. Why should I pity a sinner?
"Forgiveness," Hawthorne will answer. After years of guilt and inner-torture, Hester is slowly accepted back into society. People start to realize her selflessness and pureness in her heart--they see the actual person instead of the sinner. As years pass, like Adam and Eve's first sin, it is slowly being forgotten in a way. Though I believe true forgiveness comes from God, is Hawthorne trying to say that sin is forgiven over time? Only time will tell.
In the Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne builds pity for Hester, the sinner everyone is talking about; she is publicly shamed, cast out of the Puritan society, and stuck to raise a child alone. But why would Hawthorne want us to pity a sinner? She is an adulteress; she cheated on her husband; she is a sinner. Even if she did it for love, is she justified? If my neighbor (bless that grandma) cheated on her husband because she loved someone else, would that be okay? Like the Puritan society, we would label her an adulteress and shun her. "Regardless of your reason, you cheated," my teachers would say. Why should I pity a sinner?
"Forgiveness," Hawthorne will answer. After years of guilt and inner-torture, Hester is slowly accepted back into society. People start to realize her selflessness and pureness in her heart--they see the actual person instead of the sinner. As years pass, like Adam and Eve's first sin, it is slowly being forgotten in a way. Though I believe true forgiveness comes from God, is Hawthorne trying to say that sin is forgiven over time? Only time will tell.
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