...could the fractal or scattergram be a way of describing Ondaatje's style in "Running in the Family."
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Cheers for Ondaatje
In Michael Ondaatje's Running in the Family, I noticed the involvment of family and stories to tell his story. These are techniques we've seen already, including using family history to tell your own, and splicedness, or the use of other stories to represent the events unfolding in the authors life. Ondaatje also introduces us to humor in his memoir, which we've been slightly deprived of thus far in class. "'Sissy,' Francis' sister, "was always drowning herself because she was an exhibitionist.'" (51) He uses humorous anecdotes about his family and the people around him, and a lot of witty one-liners. We're once again seeing a foreign account of life, but Ondaatje brings his reader into his world. This is one of the more "easy" reads we've had so far, in terms of the enjoyability and fluidity of the memoir.
The Cinnamon Peeler
The poem in Running in the Family by Michael Ondaatje entitled "The Cinnamon Peeler" really caught my attention. I can't really explain what it is about this poem that made me so fascinated, but I would like to say that I love the duality of sense and sensuality that occurs throughout. That, and the first lines
"If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow."
drew me in with such an unusual and bluntly put statement
"If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow."
drew me in with such an unusual and bluntly put statement
Monday, November 24, 2008
The Photograph
I do believe that the chapter entitled "The Photograph," in Running in the Family, is a reminder of Geoffrey Douglas's "autobiography" The Classmates. Ondaatje looks at a photograph of his parents on their honeymoon and he describes it in full detail, how his parents are posed, what their faces look like, etc. We see the photograph on the following page, and we see that he has done a pretty good job of explaining what the picture looks like to him. His parents are making hysterical faces and his father has written, "What we think of married life," on the back of the photo. In this short chapter, we know exactly what that quotation means. The marriage was doomed.
"Everything is there of course, their good looks behind the tortured faces...The evidence I wanted that they were absolutely perfect for each other. My father's tanned skin, my mother's milk paleness, and this theatre of their own making. It is the only photograph I have found of the two of them together."
(Page 162)
We know right then that they did not take many photographs together, which indicates that the marriage certainly had more downs than it had ups, and I can't blame Doris for leaving Mervyn. He was completely off his rocker and was an alcoholic to boot. However, I am absolutely blown away by Ondaatje's ability to express something so heartbreaking in such a short amount of text. He is clearly still pained by the idea that his parents separated and that his father did not die anywhere near his mother. It seems wrong to him, and he sees in the photograph how right they were for each other. Yet, the last line of the chapter must have been particularly tough for him to write. His parents probably didn't take many photos together, because they were rarely happy with each other toward the end of the marriage. So sad!
"Everything is there of course, their good looks behind the tortured faces...The evidence I wanted that they were absolutely perfect for each other. My father's tanned skin, my mother's milk paleness, and this theatre of their own making. It is the only photograph I have found of the two of them together."
(Page 162)
We know right then that they did not take many photographs together, which indicates that the marriage certainly had more downs than it had ups, and I can't blame Doris for leaving Mervyn. He was completely off his rocker and was an alcoholic to boot. However, I am absolutely blown away by Ondaatje's ability to express something so heartbreaking in such a short amount of text. He is clearly still pained by the idea that his parents separated and that his father did not die anywhere near his mother. It seems wrong to him, and he sees in the photograph how right they were for each other. Yet, the last line of the chapter must have been particularly tough for him to write. His parents probably didn't take many photos together, because they were rarely happy with each other toward the end of the marriage. So sad!
Ondaatje's Anecdotes...Are they like scenes?
I think that Michael Ondaatje lays out exactly how is autobiography is going to be set up pretty early on in his book. It's sort of hidden within the text, but I think I figured out exactly why he has set up his autobiography in such a sporadic manner. His sporadicness may not be so sporadic.
"But I love the afternoon hours most. It is now almost a quarter to three. In half an hour the others will waken from their sleep and intricate conversations will begin again. In the heart of this 250-year-old fort we will trade anecdotes and faint memories, trying to swell them with the order of dates and asides, interlocking them all as if assembling the hull of a ship. No story is ever told once. Whether a memory or funny hideous scandal, we will return to it an hour later and retell the story with additions and this time a few judgments throw in. In this way history is organized..."
(Page 26).
Ondaatje's family likes to tell stories to each other, plain and simple. Ondaatje has learned about his family's history in anecdotes and from multiple sources. Why would he not construct his autobiography in a similar fashion? I think his style suits how he grew up and how he took in information as a child and adolescent. I also feel that these anecdotes, especially the vision that he constructs of his grandmother's death, apply directly to the idea of "performance," or a "performative piece." Though I don't think I grasped exactly what "performative" meant in terms of Ondaatje's work, I can clearly see the anecdotes as various scenes in a play or performance piece. Some of the anecdotes could be read on their own and little to no meaning would be lost. Perhaps that is what performative means here?
I think that the last two chapters of the autobiography are particularly representative of this anectdotal style and hearing stories from multiple sources. Ondaatje introduces information about his father's death from the perspective of his sister and his father's two friends, as well as detailing what he was up to the morning his father passed away, or at least that is what I see the last chapter of the text to be. Correct me if I'm wrong?
"But I love the afternoon hours most. It is now almost a quarter to three. In half an hour the others will waken from their sleep and intricate conversations will begin again. In the heart of this 250-year-old fort we will trade anecdotes and faint memories, trying to swell them with the order of dates and asides, interlocking them all as if assembling the hull of a ship. No story is ever told once. Whether a memory or funny hideous scandal, we will return to it an hour later and retell the story with additions and this time a few judgments throw in. In this way history is organized..."
(Page 26).
Ondaatje's family likes to tell stories to each other, plain and simple. Ondaatje has learned about his family's history in anecdotes and from multiple sources. Why would he not construct his autobiography in a similar fashion? I think his style suits how he grew up and how he took in information as a child and adolescent. I also feel that these anecdotes, especially the vision that he constructs of his grandmother's death, apply directly to the idea of "performance," or a "performative piece." Though I don't think I grasped exactly what "performative" meant in terms of Ondaatje's work, I can clearly see the anecdotes as various scenes in a play or performance piece. Some of the anecdotes could be read on their own and little to no meaning would be lost. Perhaps that is what performative means here?
I think that the last two chapters of the autobiography are particularly representative of this anectdotal style and hearing stories from multiple sources. Ondaatje introduces information about his father's death from the perspective of his sister and his father's two friends, as well as detailing what he was up to the morning his father passed away, or at least that is what I see the last chapter of the text to be. Correct me if I'm wrong?
Friday, November 21, 2008
Final Paper
I just wanted to share my excitement via blog about our final paper. As a writer I've always been interested in finding a way to share my story for when I think my life is worth sharing. I know that some people in the class sort of had a hard time accepting the format of the paper, but I am looking forward to it. I plan to use three author's styles as well as including my own sort of style: collage. I want my memoir to be almost cut-and-paste with techniques from the other autobiographies we have read in class. This should be fun!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Odaatje and Danticat - Family and Self
The element of Ondaatje's work (or the strategy he uses) that most caught my attention when I began reading Running in the Family was his examination of his family rather than of himself. Much like Danticat, Odaatje uses his family to identify himself. He examines his family's history to explain the direction of his own life.
I find it interesting that both of these authors have done this, and I find it interesting that these are the two authors who have most engaged me and some others in the class. Maybe this is because they both use this strategy... Maybe we can better understand these authors for the same reason that these authors believe they can better understand themselves: because we understand their histories, there families' histories, their cultural histories.
I found Kazin fairly engaging, too, mostly because he so richly describes and explains his surroundings (and his relationships to those surroundings, like the synagogue, the block, the movie theater, his kitchen, etc.). I think this suggests that one of the most effective strategies in writing an autobiography is to write around yourself, rather than about yourself. Write about where you're from, both physically (as Kazin does) and - I don't have a real word for this - "familially" or historically (as Ondaatje and Danticat do); write about what led up to you; write about the things that were going on around you as you became you, as those things inevitably effected your development.
Perhaps this is a strategy I will employ in my own autobiography...
I find it interesting that both of these authors have done this, and I find it interesting that these are the two authors who have most engaged me and some others in the class. Maybe this is because they both use this strategy... Maybe we can better understand these authors for the same reason that these authors believe they can better understand themselves: because we understand their histories, there families' histories, their cultural histories.
I found Kazin fairly engaging, too, mostly because he so richly describes and explains his surroundings (and his relationships to those surroundings, like the synagogue, the block, the movie theater, his kitchen, etc.). I think this suggests that one of the most effective strategies in writing an autobiography is to write around yourself, rather than about yourself. Write about where you're from, both physically (as Kazin does) and - I don't have a real word for this - "familially" or historically (as Ondaatje and Danticat do); write about what led up to you; write about the things that were going on around you as you became you, as those things inevitably effected your development.
Perhaps this is a strategy I will employ in my own autobiography...
...post-colonial and performative and post-modern perspectives...
"Perhaps, then, it is more helpful to approach autobiographical telling as a performative act." (Smith & Watson 47)
"A performative view of life narrative theorizes autobiographical occasions as dynamic sites for the performance of identities constitutive of subjectivity. In this view
, identities are not fixed or essentialized attributes of autobiographical subjects, rather they are produced and reiterated through cultural norms, and remain provisional and unstable." (Smith & Watson 145)
why is it that cheese is being wrapped individually, slice by slice?
The Brain -- is wider than the Sky --
For -- put them side by side --
The one the other will contain
With ease -- and You -- beside --
The Brain is deeper than the sea --
For -- hold them -- Blue to Blue --
The one the other will absorb --
As Sponges -- Buckets -- do --
The Brain is just the weight of God --
For -- Heft them -- Pound for Pound --
And they will differ -- if they do --
As Syllable from Sound --
-E.D.
though she's always been my favorite poet, i never appreciated the weight of her work until recent years. she's got hundreds and hundreds of poems to show for all her time spent in this physical state she seemed to be so weary of. and though i could list pick at least a few hundred as being extraordinary, 'the brain is wider than the sky' would definetly be among my top 5.
i find that there is an incredible level truth behind the simply formed letters of this poem. she's talking about infinity and divinity within our brains - what a beautiful truth we so rarely permit ourselves to acknowledge!
i believe the greatest strength and the greatest flaw of our human species, is our incessant instinct to divide things. not just anythings, but EVERYthings. we are constantly separating, labeling, categorizing, organizing, stereotyping, and so on and so on, until everything has its own everything. individuality has become the most important state of being for the world today, and not just for people, but for every aspect of existance, the physical and in the intangible. we are separated by towns, states, political parties, race, religion, the size of our income checks, our GPA's, and even our worth as humans - reflected in the value of life insurance policies. food isn't just food, its brand names! apples aren't apples, they're granny smith or macintosh. sex isn't just sex, its trojan or lifestyle. sleeping is no longer the time you spend mulling around in the unified consciousness of the world within the infinities of your brain. instead, it belongs to Ambien and Lunesta. its crazy what we're doing . . . putting sleep up against sleep!
but . . . . because of this class i've been noticing that in a lot of cases, the separation serves us as a means to better bring things together. the connection-through-division i've read in this course seems prevalent in every autobiography we've discussed this semester. every writer had to separate, in one way or another, in order to get back to that wholeness they were writing to convey.
so - in short!
this poem means a lot to me for many reasons, and i think everyone could benefit from reading it over more than a few times. understanding it is an even sweeter permission.
For -- put them side by side --
The one the other will contain
With ease -- and You -- beside --
The Brain is deeper than the sea --
For -- hold them -- Blue to Blue --
The one the other will absorb --
As Sponges -- Buckets -- do --
The Brain is just the weight of God --
For -- Heft them -- Pound for Pound --
And they will differ -- if they do --
As Syllable from Sound --
-E.D.
though she's always been my favorite poet, i never appreciated the weight of her work until recent years. she's got hundreds and hundreds of poems to show for all her time spent in this physical state she seemed to be so weary of. and though i could list pick at least a few hundred as being extraordinary, 'the brain is wider than the sky' would definetly be among my top 5.
i find that there is an incredible level truth behind the simply formed letters of this poem. she's talking about infinity and divinity within our brains - what a beautiful truth we so rarely permit ourselves to acknowledge!
i believe the greatest strength and the greatest flaw of our human species, is our incessant instinct to divide things. not just anythings, but EVERYthings. we are constantly separating, labeling, categorizing, organizing, stereotyping, and so on and so on, until everything has its own everything. individuality has become the most important state of being for the world today, and not just for people, but for every aspect of existance, the physical and in the intangible. we are separated by towns, states, political parties, race, religion, the size of our income checks, our GPA's, and even our worth as humans - reflected in the value of life insurance policies. food isn't just food, its brand names! apples aren't apples, they're granny smith or macintosh. sex isn't just sex, its trojan or lifestyle. sleeping is no longer the time you spend mulling around in the unified consciousness of the world within the infinities of your brain. instead, it belongs to Ambien and Lunesta. its crazy what we're doing . . . putting sleep up against sleep!
but . . . . because of this class i've been noticing that in a lot of cases, the separation serves us as a means to better bring things together. the connection-through-division i've read in this course seems prevalent in every autobiography we've discussed this semester. every writer had to separate, in one way or another, in order to get back to that wholeness they were writing to convey.
so - in short!
this poem means a lot to me for many reasons, and i think everyone could benefit from reading it over more than a few times. understanding it is an even sweeter permission.
...attentiveness...
Kazin was attracted to the French philosopher Simone Weil's thought that modern rootlessness as attributable to "a lost contact with the world's recollection of divinity" and compared her definition of prayer - 'attentiveness without object' - to Emily Dickinson's attentiveness in beginning a poem 'without knowing what she was beginning."
Kazin for Jenna
American Reference
"I remember how the checkbones worked in his face and how the gray little Assyrian beard leaped into the air as he threw his arms out in entreaty. The crisp "American" eloquence of his speech bewildered me as I listened to him from the open window of that room, now mine, where our cousin had lived with us for so many years." (140-141)
Kazin makes yet another reference to American culture, as well as the characteristics of Americans.
Descriptive Memory
"There was still another, with a small growth of beard--they called him Ilyich, in honor of Lenin--a boy much older than the rest of us, a strange boy who lived by himself in a furnished room off Dumont Avenue, who had sworn never to shave until the boss class freed Tom Mooney. His long matted hair and beard gave him so archaic a look that I could never take it in that he was really there with me, talking in his gently condescending voice as I stared at the clotheslines."
Here, I can so vividly picture what Kazin is describing. Even as he is recalling this from deep in his memory, Kazin uses descriptive words and phrases that assist the reader to mentally visualize each and every detail he is describing. (147)
"I remember how the checkbones worked in his face and how the gray little Assyrian beard leaped into the air as he threw his arms out in entreaty. The crisp "American" eloquence of his speech bewildered me as I listened to him from the open window of that room, now mine, where our cousin had lived with us for so many years." (140-141)
Kazin makes yet another reference to American culture, as well as the characteristics of Americans.
Descriptive Memory
"There was still another, with a small growth of beard--they called him Ilyich, in honor of Lenin--a boy much older than the rest of us, a strange boy who lived by himself in a furnished room off Dumont Avenue, who had sworn never to shave until the boss class freed Tom Mooney. His long matted hair and beard gave him so archaic a look that I could never take it in that he was really there with me, talking in his gently condescending voice as I stared at the clotheslines."
Here, I can so vividly picture what Kazin is describing. Even as he is recalling this from deep in his memory, Kazin uses descriptive words and phrases that assist the reader to mentally visualize each and every detail he is describing. (147)
Ondaatje Makes Me Chuckle..
I am always a big fan of books that make me laugh, but it is not too often that I find a book I have to read for class that makes me laugh--so I'm pretty excited. The writing style in this text is so descriptive and beautiful I feel as thought I am next to Ondaatje as he is inserting images into his memory. I think it is this ability to be so incredibly descriptive that makes the novel so humorous. I also find this book so wonderful because it describes a dysfunctional family in a positive light.
Here are some of my favorite lines from the text--read and laugh : )
"It was two and a half years later, after several modest letters about his successful academic career, that his parents discovered he had not even passed the entrance exam and was living off their money in England." p. 31
"After a large meal and more drink my father announced that now he must shoot himself because Doris had broken off the engagement. Aelian, especially as he was quite drunk too, had a terrible time trying to hide every gun in the Ceylon Light Infantry building." p. 35
"And poor Wilfred Bartholomeuz who had large teeth was killed while out hunting when one of his companions mistook him for a wild boar." p.40
Here are some of my favorite lines from the text--read and laugh : )
"It was two and a half years later, after several modest letters about his successful academic career, that his parents discovered he had not even passed the entrance exam and was living off their money in England." p. 31
"After a large meal and more drink my father announced that now he must shoot himself because Doris had broken off the engagement. Aelian, especially as he was quite drunk too, had a terrible time trying to hide every gun in the Ceylon Light Infantry building." p. 35
"And poor Wilfred Bartholomeuz who had large teeth was killed while out hunting when one of his companions mistook him for a wild boar." p.40
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