YOUR NOTES OF EACH LECTURE ARE THE QUOTES! AND THE AUTHORS OF THE QUOTES!

THAT IS WHAT PART 1. EXAM IS.

#1 2011-08-25 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Adrian Berriochoa
Lecture #1 08/25

The Road Not Taken

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim... Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same Despite what many think just by the title, the two roads that are able to be traveled on are basically the same so its not necessarily about choosing a more difficult route or the better of the two. I shall be telling this with a sigh Could either be about the story itself of traveling down the road, or literally what hes about to say next, could be about the entire poem itself. The projection into the future Two roads diverged in a wood, and II took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. The one thing you can say about this poem is that it is very ambiguous.
#2 2011-08-30 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Christine Hong
Lecture 2
TextContext Think about how a text can only be understood in a context Each reading assignment we read, builds for anothers context to be read

Description NOT interpretation Describe your reading, do not ever interpret it Song: Bye, Bye Johnny Chuck Berry wrote this song and Bruce Springsteen rewrote it Chuck Berry initially wrote it about his pianist, but people thought it was about Elvis Springsteen took the song and then wrote about it to actually be about Elvis Chuck Berry Version Seems to be a story about a mother sending her son off to the American dream At the beginning, mother dreams about son making it big, and at the end he seems to have fulfilled the dream Very strong mother/son relationship (You can tell this from the lyrics referencing the mothers hard word to withdraw money and concern for her son) Looking at the last verse, she finally got the letter she was dreaming of. But at the end its anticipatory than realization; shes there waiting by the kitchen door every time the train goes by, hoping that her son is coming home on that train with his wife to build a mansion Bruce Springsteen Version This text sets the context for Springsteens rewrite Springsteens version shows more promise in the beginning as is implied in Berrys version, and then it turns into realization of the tragedy of Elvis promising life since he then dies at the end of the song from overdosing White CadillacElvis drove one and would give them away, it was the Mercedes Benz of the 50s/60s and the lyric referring to the cadillac is a hearse in the song Correct way of learning from reading vs. overreading She drew out all her money at the Southern Trust vs from the Southern Trust the first shows action and possibility of putting money back whereas the second shows finality and way with which to take out money Leaving Louisiana for the golden west vs. Leaving Memphis with a guitar in his hand Listening to the Berry version people should know it wasnt about Elvis because he is not from Louisiana but rather Memphis as is stated in the Springsteen song Qualities readers should have Imagination Memory (what happened before to deduce whats happening now) Dictionary (and external resources like Wikipedia for information) Artistic sense. The reader should identify himself or herself with the hero or heroine is one of the WORST things a reader can do. Why, according to Nabokov? We should always remember that the work of art is invariably the creation of a new world, so that the first thing we should do is to study that new world as closely as possible, approaching it as something brand new, having no obvious connection with the worlds we already know. When this new world has been closely studied, then and only then let us examine its links with other words, other branches of knowledge. to say that that person is me, is to overwhelm them with your own imagination and you read into it as you rather than the character

What is the proper temperament a reader must have? We must have the combination of the artistic and the scientific. The enthusiastic artist alone is apt to be too subjective in his attitude towards a book, and so a scientific coolness of judgment will temper the intuitive heat. If, however, a would-be reader is utterly devoid of passion and patienceof an artists passion and a scientists patience he will hardly enjoy great literature. It seems to me that the good formula to test the quality of a novel is, in the long run, a merging of the precision of poetry and the intuition of science.these are the qualities of a good novel, and as previously stated, the qualities a reader must have precision of poetry: in poetry, everything you say needs to be the perfect/ precise thing. You need to measure meter, rhyme scheme, other details. In the precision and details of poetry is where the quality is found intuition of science: you need intuition to generate hypotheses and new areas to go into, and your intuition/ attitude leads you into new areas to make new discoveries.

#3 2011-09-01 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Bernard Clark
E316K Lecture Study Guide Lecture 3 September 1, 2011 Art comes from art examples of movies being compared to other movies while pitched (like Die Hard, but in a building), Girl Talk mash-ups Evolution of words and language importance of the OED and correct meaning Nabokov: imagination the essential instrument to be used during reading PG 27: strive to create this artistic, harmonious balance between the reader's mind and the author's mind Venn diagram for Author Text Reader Author: relies on understanding of his culture, history, tradition working within (style), position (class, race, gender, sexuality), edition/editor Reader: use the instruments provided to you (dictionary), 'fondle/take delight' in the details that you pick out (imagination), memory; recognize how your position affects your reading; similarly, attitude Emmerson: Should I tell you the secret of the true scholar? Every man I meet is my in some point, and in that I learn of him

We all have a different temperaments, but I can tell you right now that the best temperament for the reader the have, or to develop, is a combination between the artistic and the scientific one can we expect o glean information about the places and time from a novel? literally, what is written didn't happen they show history in the background, but the main focus is a work of fiction The boy who cried wolf: literature was born when the boy cried wolf, but there wasn't a wolf behind him the significance was not 'don't cry wolf', but the connection between the truth and the made up story the meditation between the real and the make-believe All literature is some work of fiction there is no such thing as a 'True Story' examples: using law and order in the Andrea Yates trial, scripted 'reality' TV Frost: Education by Poetry difficult essay the ramblings of an old man Pg 35: how shall a man go through college without being marked for taste and judgment?...they don't know when they will be fooled by a metaphor, an analogy, a parable. And metaphor is, of course, what we are talking about. Education by poetry is education by metaphor Pg 37: making metaphor the whole of thinking all of thought is metaphor, even mathematical and scientific thinking example: Niels Bohr: the action of the particle is unpredictable. But it is not so for the action of the mass Pg 36: Poetry begins in trivial metaphors...poetry provides the one permissible way of saying one thin and meaning another poetry == metaphor == saying one thing and meaning another

Aristotle - The apt use of metaphor, being as it is, the swift perception of relations, is the true hallmark of genius. Poetry, the one acceptable way of using a metaphor Thinking, just putting two things together Pg 41: We still ask boys in college to think, and we don't show them what thinking is; we seldom tell them it is just putting this and that together; it is just saying one thing in terms of another all metaphors (thinking) are like machines they break down somewhere the key part is to find just how far you can take it poetry staying close to the meaning beliefs in general Frost, After Apple Picking there is only one explicit metaphor ((saying one thing and meaning another) in the poem The words actually have to be in the poem pane of glass actually,its a sheet of ice it melted, came from the drinking trough during late fall up in New England everything else in the poem actually is what it is the poem is about picking apples, don't try to invent meaning that isn't there. Emerson, Nature parts of speech are metaphors because the whole of nature is a metaphor of the human mind The laws of moral nature answer to those of matter as face to face in a glass Frost's pane of glass and Emerson's in a glass Emerson's glass is a mirror reflection, matter and spirit reflect each other Frost's glass is a window seeing through, though not perfectly Second most used word, after 'I', is 'fall/fell/fallen' connection between fall the season, fall of man: not apple fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil feeling ashamed because of nakedness punishment for man/Eve: have to work, tried by the sweat of his brows From Emerson: our eyes are distorting lenses Back to Frost: the woodchuck

the pathetic fallacy projecting your thoughts/emotions onto the others Know what you are bringing to the poem instead of what the poem actually is saying example with After Apple Picking: this is a religious poem vs I am reading this poem in religious terms

#4 2011-09-06 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Joshua Huey
Notes: Good Readers and Good Writers by Vladimir Nabokov: In reading, one should notice and fondle the details Metaphor Monopoly by Stephen Johnson: o The wizards at Microsoft have long understood how visual metaphors can be used to consolidate power while also making computers friendlier. Even if the Justice Departments latest crusade succeeds only in making explicit the mixed nature of this blessing, it will be doing us a great service. o Bremen explains the metaphor of the desktop and how the understanding of this metaphor allowed him to promote the browser and operating system as only compatible with each other with no other possibilities that could work. o Ms. Reno alleges that "Microsoft is unlawfully taking advantage of its Windows monopoly to protect and extend that monopoly and undermine consumer choice." o Look at it this way. Imagine that Microsoft controls the market for office desks, and it is also a major telephone maker. One day it announces that all its desks will come with built-in phonesthereby putting all the other phone manufacturers out of business. Description of a work of literature is not done through interpretation, but through identifying signs. This is the art of semiotics. Signs are what we sometimes refer to as metaphors, similies, etc. In semiotics, sighs can be either 1) the signifier or 2) the signified. The signifier is the marks on the page and the signified is what you make of the marks, or what they mean. Context is useful in determining the connection between the two. The nature of proof in the interpretation of poetry by Lawrence Perrine:

o The essential difference between a metaphor and a literary symbol is that a metaphor means something else than what it is, a literary symbol, means something more than what it is. The Pilgrims Progress by John Bunyan: o For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal. o Then I saw in my dream that the Interpreter took Christian by the hand and led him into a place where was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing by it, always cast- much water upon it to quench it; yet did the fire bum higher and hotter.

#5 2011-09-08 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: James Salazar
Lecture 5 - 09/08/2011 Metaphor Metaphor according to Frost saying one thing (signifier) in terms of another (signified) Poetry Frost says the one permissible way of saying one thing in terms of another Signs take meaning depending on context How do we judge interpretations of metaphor: Perrine - 2 criteria A correct interpretation, if the poem is a successful one, must be able to account satisfactorily for any detail of the poem. If it is contradicted by any detail it is wrong. Of several interpretations, the best is that which most fully explain the details of the poem without itself being contradicted by any detail If more than one interpretation accounts for all details, the best is that which is most economical Hemmingway - The Revolutionist Outside quote: I always try to write on the principal of the iceberg. There is seven-eights of it under water for every part that shows. Anything you know you can eliminate and it only strengthens your iceberg. It is the part that doesnt show. There werent many direct quotes but there were journal entries that were talked about involving the following: In 1919 he was travelling on the railroads in Italy He was a Magyar, a very nice boy and very shy. Here was a comrade who had suffered very much under the Whites in Budapest

How is the movement going in Italy? he asked. Very badly I said. But it will go better Hemmingway - Indian Camp In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that he would never die He had cut his foot very badly with an ax three days before. He was smoking a pipe. The room smelled very bad. She screamed just as Nick and the two Indians followed his father and Uncle George into the shanty. Oh Daddy cant you her something to make her stop screaming? asked Nick. No I havent any anesthetic his father said. But her screams are not important. The husband in the upper bunk rolled over against the wall Why did he kill himself, Daddy? I dont know Nick. He couldnt stand things, I guess.

#6 2011-09-13 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by:

Lecture # 6 Mary McCarthy- Settling the Colonels Hash The sandwich and the hash were our provisional, ad hoc symbols of ourselves. But in this sense all human actions are symbolic because they represent the person who does them. If the colonel had ordered a fruit salad with whipped cream, this too would have represented him in some way; given his other traits, it would have pointed to a complexity in his character that the hash did not suggest.

Let me make a distinction. There are some great writers, like Joyce or Melville, who have consciously introduced symbolic elements into their work; and there are great writers who have written fables or allegories. In both cases, the writer makes it quite clear to the reader how he is to be read; only an idiot would take Pilgrims Progress for a realistic story, and even a young boy, reading Moby Dick, realizes that there is something more than whale-fishing here, though he may not be able to name what it is. But the great body of fiction contains only what I have called natural symbolism, in which selected events represent or typify a problem, a kind of society or psychology, a philosophical theory, in the same way that they do in real life. What happens to the hero becomes of the highest importance. This interpretation will only lead the reader away from the reality that the writer is trying to press on his attention.

Ernest Hemingway- In Our Time- Indian Camp He bent over the Indian woman. She was quiet now and her eyes were closed. She looked very pale. She did not know what had become of the baby or anything. Ill be back in the morning, the doctor said, standing up. The nurse should be here from St. Ignace by noon and shell bring everything we need. He was feeling exalted and talkative as football players are in the dressing room after a game. Thats one for the medical

journal, George, he said. Doing a caesarian with a jack-knife and sewing it up with nine-foot, tapered gut leaders. Uncle George was standing against the wall, looking at his arm. Oh, youre a great man, all right, he said.

Im terribly sorry I brought you along, Nickie, said his father, all his postoperative exhilaration gone. It was an awful mess to put you through. I dont hear her screams, her screams arent important to me. Do ladies always have such a hard time having babies? Nick asked. No, that was very very, exceptional. Do many men kill themselves, Daddy? Not very man, Nick. Do many women? Hardly ever. In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that he would never die.

Ernest Hemingway- In Our Time- Big Two Hearted River Part I The train went up on the track out of sight, around one of the hills of burnt timber. Nick sat down on the bundle of canvas and bedding the

baggage man had pitched out of the door of the baggage car. There was no town, nothing but the rails and the burned- over country. The thirteen saloons that had lined the one street of Seney had not left a trace. The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire. It was all that was left of the town of Seney. Even the surface had been burned off the ground. Nick looked at the burned- over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there. It swirled against the log piles of the bridge. Nick looked down into the clear, brown water, colored from the pebbly bottom, and watched the trout keeping themselves steady in the current with wavering fins. As he watched them they changed their positions by quick angles, only to hold steady in the fast water again. Nick watched them a long time. He watched them holding themselves with their noses into the current, many trout in deep, fast moving water, slightly distorted as he watched far down through the glassy convex surface of the pool, its surface pushing and swelling smooth against the resistance of the long- driven piles of

the bridge. At the bottom of the pool were the big trout. Nick did not see them at first. Then he saw them at the bottom of the pool, big trout looking to hold themselves on the gravel bottom in a varying mist of gravel and sand, raised in spurts by the current. Nicks heart tightened as the trout moved. He felt all the old feeling. He had is leather rod-case in his hand and leaning forward to keep the weight of the pack high on his shoulders he walked along the road that paralleled the railway track, leaving the burned town behind in the heat, and then turned off around a hill with a high, fire- scarred hill on either side onto a road that went back into the country. He walked along the road feeling the ache from the pull of the heavy pack. The road climbed steadily. It was hard work walking up-hill. His muscles ached and the day was hot, but Nick felt happy. He felt he had left everything behind, the need for thinking, the need to write, other needs. It was all back of him. Seney was burned, the country was burned over and changed, but it did not matter. It could not all be burned. He knew that. He hiked along the road, sweating in the sun, climbing to cross the

range of hills that separated the railway from the pine plains. As he watched the black hopper that was nibbling at the wool of his sock with is four way lip, he realized that they had all turned black from living in the burned- over land. He realized that the fire must have come the year before, but the grasshoppers were all black now. He wondered how long they would say that way. He started a fire with some chunks of pine he got with the ax from a stump. Over the fire he stuck a wire grill, pushing the four legs down into the ground with his boot. Nick put the frying pan on the grill over the flames. He was hungrier. The beans and spaghetti warmed. Nick stirred them and mixed them together. They began to bubble, making little bubbles that rose with difficulty to the surface. There was a good smell. Nick got out a bottle of tomato catchup and cut four slices of bread. The little bubbles were coming faster now. Nick sat down beside the fire and lifted the frying pan off. He poured about half the contents out into the tin plate. It spread slowly on the plate. Nick knew it was too hot. He poured on o some tomato catchup. He knows the beans and spaghetti were still too hot. He looked

at the fire, then at the tent, he was not going to spoil it all by burning his tongue. For years he had never enjoyed friend bananas because he had never been able to wait for them to cool. His tongue was very sensitive. He was very hungry. Across the river in the swamp, in the almost dark, he saw a mist rising. He looked at the tent once more. All right. He took a full spoonful from the plate.

Ernest Hemingway- In Our Time- Chapter IV Nick sat against the wall of the church where they had dragged him to be clear of machine-gun fire in the street. Both legs stuck out awkwardly. He had been hit in the spine. His face was sweaty and dirty. The sun shone on his face. The day was very hot. Rinaldi, big backed, his equipment sprawling, lay face downward against the wall. Nick looked straight ahead brilliantly. The pink wall of the house opposite toward the street. Two Austrian dead lay in the rubble in the shade of the house. Up the street were other dead. Things were getting forward in the town. It was going well. Stretcher-bearers would be along any time now. Nick turned his head carefully and looked at Rinaldi. Senta Rinaldi. Senta. You and me weve made a separate peace. Rinaldi lay still in the sun breathing with difficulty. Not patriots. Nick turned his head carefully away smiling sweatily. Rinaldi was a disappointing audience.

The lecture audio shut off at 58 minutes. I was not able to distinguish what quotes he was reading. Therefore, we dont have quotes from the last 15 minutes from this lecture.
MIC PROBLEMS #7 2011-09-15 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Adam Kaiser
9/15/2011 Day we turned in Reaction Papers Author Text Reader (Nabokovian Model) Gender: Gilbert and Gubar o Be careful of emotions getting in the way o Pen = Penis? Gilbert and Gubar dont actually say it, just ask it They get the idea from Hopkins
Is a pen a metaphorical penis? Gerard Manley Hopkins seems to have thought so. In a letter to his friend R. W. Dixon in 1886 he confided a crucial feature of his theory of poetry. The artists "most essential quality," he declared, is "masterly execution, which is a kind of male gift, and especially marks off men from women, the begetting of ones thought on paper, on verse, or whatever the matter is." In addition, he noted that "on better consideration it strikes me that the mastery I speak of is not so much in the mind as a puberty in the life of that quality. The male quality is the creative gift."1 Male sexuality, in other words, is not just analogically but actually the essence of literary power. The poets pen is in some sense (even more than figuratively) a penis.

Historically, literary gift was a masculine quality Of 100 greatest works, only 4 were written by female author Meaning of the word Authority
Authority suggests to me a constellation of linked meanings: not only, as the OED tells us, "a power to enforce obedience," or "a derived or delegated power," or "a power to influence action," or "a power to inspire belief," or "a person whose opinion is accepted"; not only those, but a connection as well with authorthat is, a person who originates or gives existence to something, a begetter, beginner, father, or ancestor, a person also who sets forth written statements.

When the female writer looks in the mirror, she sees what is projected by others instead of what should be her reflection. Women are most often referred to as monsters or angels o Active in the world monsters o Self-sacrificing to families angels Look at Toughness Has Risks for Women Executives A group of women named bully-broads for asserting themselves. Sent to seminars to fix attitude Fatal Attraction Came out in 1987. Won several Oscars, but had a different original ending. Executive in upstate NY, meets single woman, Alex, in meeting. Discreet affair lasts awhile, she develops feelings Clips of lead up to ending; Confrontation:
Michael Douglas goes to her Apt. He attacks her, fights in the bathroom and all over the apartment. Chokes her, but releases, Alex grabs knife, struggle over it, he wins it, puts it down, leaves. He goes to police station and talks to detective

Original Ending:
Michael Douglas (Dan) raking with wife and kids, cop car drives up. Detectives talk to Douglass about Alex, she is dead. Cops think he did it. He denies it and calls her crazy. Flashbacks to Confrontation. He leaves in cop car, wife searches for the number for lawyer, Arthur. Arthur doesnt pick up, but wife finds a tape from Alex and pops it in. Alex says she cant live without him in tape. I dont know what Ill do. I cant live without you. She threatens to cut deeper next time. Ill kill myself. Wife goes to get Dan. Video of Glen Close slitting her own neck.

Comments: Audience is led on, too clichd, it seems that no one is on Alexs side Directors Comments:
Director liked the original ending. Says that making the audience watch 2 hours and break the family up doesnt work. Came up with solution for getting Douglas out of jail. The ending we went with was the best for the movie. Lynne never mentions anything about it testing poorly.

Notes: Wife is the Angel, Glen Close is the Monster. Wifes haircut is getting closer to Monsters throughout the movie. Theatre Ending:
Dan tucking child into bed. Telling daughter he is going to stay with family. Wife is in bathroom, he is on phone downstairs. Gives wife a towel in bathroom. Bathwater running, she asks him to go maker her a cup of tea. He checks door and locks it again. Wife clears mirror and sees Alex with large kitchen knife. Water is dripping out of bathtub, Alex is slowly cutting herself in the leg. Alex is calling wife a selfish bitch for taking Dan. Fight ensues. Dan hears and comes up. He and Alex fight again over knife. He gets her into bathtub and drowns her. He thinks she is dead so he lets go, but she arises and wife shoots her immediately!! Family is intact. The End.

This is a better ending, more uncertainty. The Angel kills the Monster. The Monster wont die, its an interesting monster. It is interesting how much they make Glen Close look like Medusa. Medusa is killed by Perseus, Douglas is that character. Held same way in which Perseus slays Medusa. The Queens Looking Glass Looking in the mirror is a problem for women. Body image and unrealistic pressures is something discussed in Gilbert and Gubar.

Culture: Raymond Williams: Anytime you talk about culture, if you imagined a crosssection of that culture, Residual, Emergent and Dominant. There is a small amount of cultural resemblance from the past (Residual). There is a culture of new ideals just starting to take shape, (Emergent) Women working equally with men is emergent. Then there is overall dominant culture. The way things are. The movie appeals to dominant attitudes in culture, trying to keep family intact. Dan is never blamed for affair in the movie.
Hegemony gaining the complicity of subordinate groups in the support of the dominant by winning or shaping consent so that the power of the dominant classes appears both legitimate and natural.

What is natural? Everything happens in nature, but what is actually declared natural: particular cultural identification of such. It is satisfying to see Glen Closes character get killed. It is even more satisfying to see the Monster get killed by the Angel. Michael Douglas needs to keep the family together. The norms of society become internalized, in this case used as hegemony to keep family intact. Demonization: The act of projecting badself onto another. Alex is splitting her self into two, good and bad. She projects the bad onto the wife and is acting to punish the bad side for being bad. (While she cuts herself)
American demonology has both a form and a content. The demonologist splits the world in two, attributing magical, pervasive power to a conspiratorial center of evil. Fearing chaos and secret penetration, the countersubversive interprets local initiatives as signs of alien power. Discrete individuals and groups become, in the countersubversive imagination, members of a single political body directed by its head. The countersubversive needs monsters to give shape to his anxieties and to permit him to indulge his forbidden desires. Demonization allows the countersubversive, in the name of battling the subversive, to imitate his enemy.

War on Terror and Soviet Russia are political examples of demonization.

#8 2011-09-20 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Cassie Lee
9/20/11 First 30 minutes are on explaining the 1st 2-page paper. The Queens Looking Glass Final Argument about was about Snow White Clip of The Last Seduction Alec Baldwin See this watch? This watch cost more than your car Would not call the guy threatening the men a bitch This is a pep-talk, or how these guys are supposed to be motivated Clip purpose to develop an argument

The gender differences in the business world Being a man and acting in manly ways. If a woman tries to act that way, it becomes unnatural More random examples of arguments- to gather ideas Article Many Women at Elite Colleges Set Career Path to Motherhood Women do not go to college for a career but more so to find a husband to marry Navigating the waters of our biased culture TEST Do two or more characters who have names talk to each other and if so do they talk about anything other than a man After Class, Skimpy Equality Duke University Halloween Party Invitation read Whether your dressing up as a slutty nurse, a slutty doctor, a slutty schoolgirl or just total slut, we invite you Party was huge success Now different attitude to present self in class vs a social oncampus setting Who has the Power in school Social Life The Queens Looking Glass About Snow White Not the Disney version, but the Brothers Grim version Difference between angry plotting queen who is controlling Mirror takes on the Kings role of explaining who is the fairest in the land Queen plots revenge on Snow White because she yields to resignation and she is her daughter Snow White= self sacrificing servant to Dwarfs Anne Bradstreet, The Prologue To sing of wars, of captains, and kings, Of cities founded, commonwealths begun, For my mean pen are too superior things: Paraphrase: Her mean pen (instrument of writing) is not sufficient enough to talk about the big things (wars, captains, kings, founding of cities). These things are too superior thing for her to write about Or how they all, or each their dates have run Let poets and historians set these forth, My obscure lines shall not so dim their worth Paraphrase: Male poets and historians should write about how they all began and how the dates have run. Her writing (difficult to understand poetry) shall not lessen their value.

She is like Snow White- I do not want to make trouble, I am not superior enough to write about these things, so I will not try But when my wondring eyes and envious heart Great Bartas sugared lines do but read oer, Fool I do grudge the Muses did not part Twixt him and me that overfluent store; A Bartas can do what a Bartas will But simple I according to my skill Paraphrase: When her wondering eyes and jealous heart read about Bartas (great poet), she feels jealous that the Muses did not give her the talent and skills as they gave him. She cannot compare to Bartas, she can only do simple skill. From schoolboys tongue no rhetoric we expect, nor yet a sweert consort from broken strings, Nor perfect beauty wheres a main defect: My foolish, broken, blemished Muse so sings, And this to mend, alas, no art is ale, Cause nature made it so irreparable. Paraphrase: Dont expect affective rhetoric from a young boy, nor expect to hear sweet harmony from a broken instrument or defective. Her broken Muse sings to her. To mend her lack of rhetoric, the defects, no art is able because nature made it that way. Her main defect is like the schoolboys for it cannot be fixed because nature made it that way.

#9 2011-09-22 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Chase Cobb
A fundamental essay/idea for the course as well as a liberal arts education: Transcript of David Foster Wallaces commencement address. There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says "Morning, boys. How's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes "What the hell is water?" -Relevance of fish story-important realities are hard to recognize "Look, it's not like I don't have actual reasons for not believing in God. It's not like I haven't ever experimented with the whole God and prayer thing. Just last month I got caught away from the camp in that terrible blizzard, and I was totally lost and I couldn't see a thing, and it was fifty below, and so I tried it: I fell to my knees in the snow and cried out 'Oh, God, if there is a God, I'm lost in this blizzard, and I'm gonna die if you don't help me.'" And now, in the bar, the religious guy looks at the atheist all puzzled. "Well then you must believe now," he says, "After all, here you are, alive." The atheist

just rolls his eyes. "No, man, all that happened was a couple Eskimos happened to come wandering by and showed me the way back to camp." -Whats important to Wallace is that these are CHOSEN beliefs It's easy to run this story through kind of a standard liberal arts analysis: the exact same experience can mean two totally different things to two different people, given those people's two different belief templates and two different ways of constructing meaning from experience. Because we prize tolerance and diversity of belief, nowhere in our liberal arts analysis do we want to claim that one guy's interpretation is true and the other guy's is false or bad. Which is fine, except we also never end up talking about just where these individual templates and beliefs come from. Meaning, where they come from INSIDE the two guys. As if a person's most basic orientation toward the world, and the meaning of his experience were somehow just hard-wired, like height or shoe-size; or automatically absorbed from the culture, like language. As if how we construct meaning were not actually a matter of personal, intentional choice. Plus, there's the whole matter of arrogance. The nonreligious guy is so totally certain in his dismissal of the possibility that the passing Eskimos had anything to do with his prayer for help. True, there are plenty of religious people who seem arrogant and certain of their own interpretations, too. They're probably even more repulsive than atheists, at least to most of us. But religious dogmatists' problem is exactly the same as the story's unbeliever: blind certainty, a close-mindedness that amounts to an imprisonment so total that the prisoner doesn't even know he's locked up. The point here is that I think this is one part of what teaching me how to think is really supposed to mean. To be just a little less arrogant. To have just a little critical awareness about myself and my certainties. Because a huge percentage of the stuff that I tend to be automatically certain of is, it turns out, totally wrong and deluded. I have learned this the hard way, as I predict you graduates will, too. learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience. Because if you cannot exercise this kind of choice in adult life, you will be totally hosed. Think of the old clich about quote the mind being an excellent servant but a terrible master. Vladimir Nabokov- Good Readers and Good Writers To minor authors is left the ornamentation of the commonplace: these do not bother about any reinventing of the world; they merely try to squeeze the best they can out of a given order of things, out of

traditional patterns of fiction. The various combinations these minor authors are able to produce within these set limits may be quite amusing in a mild ephemeral way because minor readers like to recognize their own ideas in a pleasing disguise. Anne Bradstreet- The Prologue From schoolboys tongue no rhetric we expect, Nor yet a sweet consort5 from broken strings, Nor perfect beauty wheres a main defect: (15) My foolish, broken, blemished Muse so sings, And this to mend, alas, no art is able, Cause nature made it so irreparable. Nor can I, like that fluent sweet tongued Greek, Who lisped at first, in future times speak plain.6 (20) By art he gladly found what he did seek, A full requital of his striving pain. Art can do much, but this maxims most sure: A weak or wounded brain admits no cure. I am obnoxious to each carping tongue (25) Who says my hand a needle better fits, A poets pen all scorn I should thus wrong, For such despite they cast on female wits: If what I do prove well, it wont advance, Theyll say its stoln, or else it was by chance. (30) -Bremen skipped stanza 7 Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are; Men have precedency and still excel, It is but vain unjustly to wage war; Men can do best, and women know it well (40) Preeminence in all and each is yours; Yet grant some small acknowledgment of ours.

And oh ye high flown quills8 that soar the skies, And ever with your prey still catch your praise,

If eer you deign these lowly lines your eyes (45) Give thyme or parsley wreath, I ask no bays;9 This mean and unrefined ore of mine Will make your glistring gold but more to shine. Phillis Wheatley- On Being Brought from Africa to America Twas mercy brought me from my pagan land, Taught my benighted soul to understand That theres a God, that theres a Savior too: Once I redemption neither sought nor knew. Some view our sable race with scornful eye. "Their color is a diabolic dye." Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, May be refined, and join the angelic train. Nikki Giovanni- Linkage: To Phillis Wheatley What would a little girl think . . . boarding a big . . . at least to her . . . ship . . . setting sail on a big . . . to everybody . . . ocean . . . Perhaps seeing her first . . . iceberg . . . or whale . . . or shark . . . Watching the blue water kiss . . . the blue sky . . . and blow white clouds . . . to the horizon . . . My mother . . . caused awe . . in me for blowing . . . smoke rings . . . What would a little girl think. . . leaving Senegal . . . for that which had no name . . . and when one was obtained . . . no place for her . . . You see them now . . . though they were always . . . there . . . the children of Hester Prynne . . . walking the streets . . . needing a place . . . to eat . . . sleep . . . Be . . . warm . . . loved . . . alone. . . together. . . complete . . . The block . . . that little Black girls . . . stood upon . . . is the same block . . . they now walk . . . with little white boys and girls . . . selling themselves . . . to the adequate . . . bidder . . .
Hagar was a little Black girl . . . chosen by Sarah and Abraham . . . looked like a breeder . . . they said . . . Phillis . . . a little Black girl . . . chosen by Wheatley . . . looked intelligent . . . make a cute pet . . . for the children . . . Old men . . . sweat curling round their collars . . . choose a body and act . . . on the wait . . . through the tunnel to Jersey . . . Looked like fun . . . they say . . . Family members . . . and family friends . . . inhale to intoxication . . . the allure of the youths. . . destroying in conception . . . that which has never been . . . born . . . Eyes . . . they say . . . are the mirror . . . of the soul . . . a reflection . . . of the spirit . . . an informer . . . to reality . . . What do you see . . . if you are a little

Black girl . . . standing on a stage . . . waiting to be purchased . . . Is there kindness . . . concern . . . compassion . . . in the faces examining you . . . Do your eyes show. . . or other eyes acknowledge . . . that you . . . dusky . . . naked of clothes and tongue . . . stripped of the protection of Gods . . . and countrymen . . . are Human . . . Do you see those who purchase . . . or those who sold . . . Do you see those who grab at you . . . or those who refused to shield you . . . Are you grateful to be bought . . . or sold . . . What would you think . . . of a people . . . who allowed . . . nay encouraged . . . abetted . . . regaled . . . in your chains. . . . Hands . . . that handle heavy objects . . . develop callouses . . . Feet in shoes too tight . . . develop corns . . . Minds that cannot comprehend . . . like lovers separated too long . . . develop in affinity for what is . . . and an indifference . . . if not hostility . . . to that which has been denied. . . Little white boys . . . stalking Park Avenue . . . little white girls . . . on the Minnesota Strip . . . are also slaves.. . to the uncaring. . . of a nation . . . It cannot be unusual . . . that the gene remembers . . . It divides . . . and redivides and subdivides . . . again and again and again.. . to make the eyes brown . . . the fingers long . . . the hair coarse . . . the nose broad . . . the pigment Black . . . the mind intelligent . . . It cannot be unusual . . . that one gene . . . from all the billions upon billions. . . remembered clitorectomies . . . infibulations . . . women beaten. . . children hungry . . garbage heaping . . . open sewers . . . men laughing . . . at it all . . . It cannot be unusual . . . that the dark . . . dusky . . . murky world . . . of druggery . . . drums . . . witch doctors . . . incantations . . . MAGIC . . . was willingly shed . . . for the Enlightenment . . . At least man . . . was considered rational . . . At least books . . . dispensed knowledge . . . At least God . . . though still angry and jealous . . . was reachable through prayer and action . . . if those are not redundant . . . terms . . . We cannot be surprised that young Phillis chose poetry. . . The critics . . . from a safe seat in the balcony . . . disdain her performance . . . reject her reality . . . ignore her truth. . . How could she . . . they ask . . . thank God she was brought . . . and bought . . . in this Land . . . How dare she . . . they decried . . . cheer George Washington his victory . . . Why couldn't she . . . they want to know . . . be more like . . . more like . . . more like . . . The record sticks . . . Phillis was her own precedent . . . her own image . . . her only ancestor . . . She wasn't like Harriet Tubman because she is Tubman . . . with Pen . . . rather than body . . . Leading herself . . . and therefore her people . . . from bondage . . . not like Sojourner Truth . . . she was Truth . . . using words on paper . . . to make the case . . . that slavery is people . . . and wrong to do . . . We know nothing of the Life . . . we who judge others . . . of the conditions . . . we create. . . and expect others to live with . . . or beyond . . . broken spirits . . . broken hearts . . . misplaced love . . . fruitless endeavor . . . Women . . . are considered complete . . .

when they marry . . . We have done . . . it is considered . . . our duty . . . when we safely deliver a person from the bondage of Father . . . to the bondage of duty . . . and husband . . . from house slaves who read and write . . . to housewives who have time for neither . . . We are happy . . . when their own race is chosen . . . their own class reaffirmed . . . their their own desire submerged . . . into food . . . dishes . . . laundry . . . babies . . . no dreams this week thank you I haven't the time . . . Like overripe fruit in an orchard embraced by frost . . . the will to live turns rotten . . . feckless . . . feculent . . . What is a woman . . . to think . . . when all she hears . . . are words that exclude her . . . all she feels . . . are emotions that deceive . . . What do the children think . . . in their evening quest . . . of those who from platform and pulpit . . . deride their condition . . . yet purchase their service . . . What must life be . . . to any young captive . . . of its time . . . Do we send them back . . . home to the remembered horrors . . . Do we allow them their elsewheres . . . to parade their talents . . . Do we pretend that all is well . . . that Ends . . .

#10 2011-09-27 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Sarah Chen
KOLODNY What is left out of account, however, is the fact that whether we speak of poets and critics reading texts or writers reading (and thereby recording for us) the world, we are calling attention to interpretative strategies that are learned, historically determined, and thereby necessarily gender-inflected. As others have elsewhere questioned the adequacy of Blooms paradigm of poetic influence to explain the production of poetry by women,11 so now I propose to examine analogous limitations in his model for the readingand hence criticalprocess (since both, after all, derive from his revisionist rendering of the Freudian family romance). The idea that both reading and writing read and write within traditions, the water they swim in--the male-dominated, patriarchic water-- the pen was for masculine hands. For women to engage in this godlike activity of self-creation-- to say I am-- was gender-inflected. These traditions kick in when people read and when people write. She said that when Gilmans work was sent to publishers, they were horrified, even though a narration of descent into madness has been done, when written

by a woman and having a woman narrator, it was even more scandalous. Thus womens writing got nipped in the bud. It explains why so many people have heard of famous woman writers, but have never read any of their works CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN, WOMEN AND INSANITY Nervous doctors at the time gave rest cures to treat nervousness, but it nearly drove Charlotte Perkins Gilman insane. Perkins warns that women and madness are being equaled. Women and hysteria derived the term of hysterectomyher womb caused her to go hysterical, and it was thought that removing it would be a cure. Among the indications [of the need for a hysterectomy] were a troublesomeness, eating like a ploughman, masturbation, attempted suicide, erotic tendencies, persecution mania, simple cussedness and dysmenorrhea. Most apparent in the enormous variety of symptoms doctors took to indicate castration was a strong current of sexual appetitiveness on the part of women. -- Ben Barker-Benfield, The Spermatic Economy Sexually active womenwomen who acted in a mans role, were not normal; insane. Madness becomes a stage on which a woman is seen. Mindy Faber, Delirium The idea of hegemony (getting the complicity of subordinate groups in the support of the dominant by winning or shaping consent so that the power of the dominant classes appear both legitimate and natural) is within the idea that husband is in control; lays down the law. The internalization of these norms passivity for women, activity for malesleads to a different demonization for women, splitting into schizophrenia: the good woman who wants to conform to the norms of her passiveness, and the bad woman, who wants to escape. The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman John laughs at me, of course, but one expects that. John is practical in the extreme. He has no patience with faith, an intense horror of superstition, and he scoffs openly at any talk of things not to be felt and seen and put down in figures.

John is a physician, and perhaps(I would not say it to a living soul, of course, but this is dead paper and a great relief to my mind)perhaps that is one reason I do not get well faster. You see, he does not believe I am sick! And what can one do? If a physician of high standing, and ones own husband, assures friends and relatives that there is really nothing the matter with one but temporary nervous depressiona slight hysterical tendencywhat is one to do? My brother is also a physician, and also of high standing, and he says the same thing. So I take phosphates or phosphiteswhichever it isand tonics, and air and exercise, and journeys, and am absolutely forbidden to "work" until I am well again. An example of a doctor, a man, as a typically paternalistic role. Reads this woman over into the terms that he knowsone of a hysterical woman. The ability for the woman to express herself leaves her exhausted, but there is something about it she keeps doing. So she keeps this journal. It is a big, airy room, the whole floor nearly, with windows that look all ways, and air and sunshine galore. It was nursery first, and then playroom and gymnasium, I should judge, for the windows are barred for little children, and there are rings and things in the walls. The paint and paper look as if a boys school had used it. It is stripped offthe paperin great patches all around the head of my bed, about as far as I can reach, and in a great place on the other side of the room low down. I never saw a worse paper in my life. The room is described like a prison, barred windows, like a torture chamber.

One of those sprawling, flamboyant patterns committing every artistic sin. It is dull enough to confuse the eye in following, pronounced enough constantly to irritate and provoke study, and when you follow the lame uncertain curves for a little distance they suddenly commit suicideplunge off at outrageous angles, destroy themselves in unheard-of contradictions. The color is repellent, almost revolting: a smouldering unclean yellow, strangely faded by the slow-turning sunlight. It is a dull yet lurid orange in some places, a sickly sulphur tint in others. Weird description of wallpaper. When described how emphatic, showy and flamboyant it is, the description gets denigrated, like how when a woman becomes too showy, people tell her to get control of herself. In the activity of splitting, her bad self gets projected onto the wallpaper.

I wish I could get well faster. But I must not think about that. This paper looks to me as if it knew what a vicious influence it had! There is a recurrent spot where the pattern lolls like a broken neck and two bulbous eyes stare at you upside down. I get positively angry with the impertinence of it and the ever-lastingness. Up and down and sideways they crawl, and those absurd unblinking eyes are everywhere. There is one place where two breadths didnt match, and the eyes go all up and down the line, one a little higher than the other. I never saw so much expression in an inanimate thing before, and we all know how much expression they have! I used to lie awake as a child and get more entertainment and terror out of blank walls and plain furniture than most children could find in a toy-store. I remember what a kindly wink the knobs of our big old bureau used to have, and there was one chair that always seemed like a strong friend. I used to feel that if any of the other things looked too fierce I could always hop into that chair and be safe. The furniture in this room is no worse than inharmonious, however, for we had to bring it all from downstairs. I suppose when this was used as a playroom they had to take the nursery things out, and no wonder! I never saw such ravages as the children have made here. The wallpaper, as I said before, is torn off in spots, and it sticketh closer than a brotherthey must have had perseverance as well as hatred. Then the floor is scratched and gouged and splintered, the plaster itself is dug out here and there, and this great heavy bed, which is all we found in the room, looks as if it had been through the wars. But I dont mind it a bitonly the paper. The woman is very imaginative, playing with her objects. But the wallpaper does not possess the same qualities.

At the mention of Johns sister, Jennie, she is the perfect woman, helpful and supportive of the man, the antithesis of the narrating woman. Thus she becomes something like an enemy. On a pattern like this, by daylight, there is a lack of sequence, a defiance of law, that is a constant irritant to a normal mind. The color is hideous enough, and unreliable enough, and infuriating enough, but the pattern is torturing.

You think you have mastered it, but just as you get well under way in following, it turns a back-somersault and there you are. It slaps you in the face, knocks you down, and tramples upon you. It is like a bad dream. The outside pattern is a florid arabesque, reminding one of a fungus. If you can imagine a toadstool in joints, an interminable string of toadstools, budding and sprouting in endless convolutionswhy, that is something like it. That is, sometimes! There is one marked peculiarity about this paper, a thing nobody seems to notice but myself, and that is that it changes as the light changes. When the sun shoots in through the cast windowI always watch for that first long, straight rayit changes so quickly that I never can quite believe it. That is why I watch it always. By moonlightthe moon shines in all night when there is a moonI wouldnt know it was the same paper. At night in any kind of light, in twilight, candlelight, lamplight, and worst of all by moonlight, it becomes bars! The outside pattern, I mean, and the woman behind it is as plain as can be. I didnt realize for a long time what the thing was that showed behind, that dim sub-pattern, but now I am quite sure it is a woman. By daylight she is subdued, quiet. I fancy it is the pattern that keeps her so still. It is so puzzling. It keeps me quiet by the hour. The project of her bad self becomes stronger and stronger, and as she projects the desire for independence, it brings a real change.

Life is very much more exciting now than it used to be. You see, I have something more to expect, to look forward to, to watch. I really do eat better, and am more quiet than I was. John is so pleased to see me improve! He laughed a little the other day, and said I seemed to be flourishing in spite of my wallpaper. I turned it off with a laugh. I had no intention of telling him it was because of the wallpaperhe would make fun of me. He might even want to take me away. I dont want to leave now until I have found it out. There is a week more, and I think that will be enough. Instead of the wallpaper being an enemy, it now brings relief. Her writing, and its ability to express herself in an active way, also becomes a form of relief. In the end Then he said, very quietly indeed, "Open the door, my darling!" "I cant," said I. "The key is down by the front door under a plantain leaf!"

And then I said it again, several times, very gently and slowly, and said it so often that he had to go and see, and he got it of course, and came in. He stopped short by the door. "What is the matter?" he cried. "For Gods sake, what are you doing!" I kept on creeping just the same, but I looked at him over my shoulder. "Ive got out at last," said I, "in spite of you and Jane. And Ive pulled off most of the paper, so you cant put me back!" Now why should that man have fainted? But he did, and right across my path by the wall, so that I had to creep over him every time! Who is Jane?

Hurrah! This is the last day, but it is enough. John is to stay in town over night, and wont be out until this evening. Jennie wanted to sleep with methe sly thing; but I told her I should undoubtedly rest better for a night all alone. That was clever, for really I wasnt alone a bit! As soon as it was moonlight and that poor thing began to crawl and shake the pattern, I got up and ran to help her. I pulled and she shook. I shook and she pulled, and before morning we had peeled off yards of that paper. By this point, the narrator has gone off the bridge.

A strip about as high as my head and half around the room. And then when the sun came and that awful pattern began to laugh at me, I declared I would finish it today! We go away tomorrow, and they are moving all my furniture down again to leave things as they were before. Jennie looked at the wall in amazement, but I told her merrily that I did it out of pure spite at the vicious thing. She laughed and said she wouldnt mind doing it herself, but I must not get tired. How she betrayed herself that time! Jennie is cautious of the woman, who has clearly gone over the edge, but the woman is seeing Jennie as the enemy. But I am here, and no person touches this paper but Menot alive! She tried to get me out of the roomit was too patent! But I said it was so quiet and empty and clean now that I believed I would lie down again and sleep all I could, and not to wake me even for dinnerI would call when I woke. So now she is gone, and the servants are gone, and the things are gone, and there is nothing left but that great bedstead nailed down, with the canvas mattress we found on it.

We shall sleep downstairs tonight, and take the boat home tomorrow. I quite enjoy the room, now it is bare again. How those children did tear about here! This bedstead is fairly gnawed! But I must get to work. I have locked the door and thrown the key down into the front path. I dont want to go out, and I dont want to have anybody come in, till John comes. I want to astonish him. Ive got a rope up here that even Jennie did not find. If that woman does get out, and tries to get away, I can tie her! But I forgot I could not reach far without anything to stand on! Everything so far is pretty clearaction happens, and she writes. This bed will not move! But here, the action and the writing coincide, happens at the same time.

I tried to lift and push it until I was lame, and then I got so angry I bit off a little piece at one cornerbut it hurt my teeth. Then I peeled off all the paper I could reach standing on the floor. It sticks horribly and the pattern just enjoys it! All those strangled heads and bulbous eyes and waddling fungus growths just shriek with derision! I am getting angry enough to do something desperate. To jump out of the window would be admirable exercise, but the bars are too strong even to try. Besides I wouldnt do it. Of course not. I know well enough that a step like that is improper and might be misconstrued. I dont like to look out of the windows eventhere are so many of those creeping women, and they creep so fast. I wonder if they all come out of that wallpaper as I did? Suddenly, the woman in the wallpaper is writing this! So that means.that Jane is the original woman in the narrator. The part when she says, The bed will not move meant that the original woman narrating becomes the woman in the wallpaper. The woman in the wallpaper got out despite Jane and Janes husband trying to prevent that. The woman in the wallpaper has no place to write herself, except in the space of insanity, to be active, to not be confined. Driven into insanity by infantilizationbeing made into a little girl, she rebels against that, creeps around in the room as she pleases.

#11 2011-09-29 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall

Notes by:Joseph Martinez

Langston Hughes, The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain One of the most promising of the young Negro poets said to me once, "I want to be a poetnot a Negro poet," meaning, I believe, "I want to write like a white poet"I would like to be a white poet"; meaning behind that, "I would like to be white." Robert Jenson, White Privilege Shapes the U.S White privilege, like any social phenomenon, is complex. In a white supremacist culture, all white people have privilege, whether or not they are overtly racist themselves. There are general patterns, but such privilege plays out differently depending on context and other aspects of one's identity (in my case, being male gives me other kinds of privilege). Rather than try to tell others how white privilege has played out in their lives, I talk about how it has affected me. Literature=Personal anecdote, bias, imaginative, creative, made up, plot, climax, reader analyzes, no chronic logical order, History= Factual account, unbiased, tied to what actually happened, clearly defined, nothing that ties it all together, author analyzes, timeline Nabokov, The Boy who cried wolf Annette Gordon-Reed, Why Jefferson Scholars Were the Last to Know The trouble is that the scholars who fashioned Jefferson's image were either unwilling or unable to weigh the matter objectively. But time and again, historians exhibited the unfortunate human tendency to see only the things we want to see and to know only those things we want to know. William Safire, Sallygate Why was this stunning new evidence released on the weekend before Impeachment Election Day? The answer comes from Joseph J. Ellis, the historian who worked with the scientists to give the genetic story its current political spin: "Our heroes -- and especially Presidents -- are not gods or saints, but flesh-and-blood humans, with all of the frailties and imperfections that this entails." The young Jefferson promised his dying wife he would not marry again. His wife's father was also the father of the slave Sally. Thus the 38-year affair was with his wife's half-sister, who may have shared many of her characteristics. Orlando Patterson, Jefferson the Contradiction It was considered inconceivable that a man of Jefferson's character could do such a thing, notwithstanding his well-documented contradictions on the

subjects of slavery and other matters. Knowing that the greatest of our Founding Fathers was a practicing miscegenist should energize the recent shift away from the either-or definition of "race" that has historically underpinned the caste-like segregation of African-Americans, toward a more blended and self-chosen definition of group identity. No society has ever solved its ethnic problems without intermarriage, and America will be no exception.

#12 2011-10-04 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Calzada
When the lions write history, history will be written different Wendell Phillips letter of introduction to Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass Give us the facts, we will take care of the philosophy Douglass,- john Collins stated itNarrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass Page 43; remember the old fable The Man and the Lion. Where the lion complains that he should not be so misrepresented when the lions wrote history-Wendell PhilipsNarrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass Pg 38; I am confident that it is essentially true in all its statements; that nothing has been set down in malice, nothing exaggerated, nothing drawn from the imagination; that it comes short of reality, rather than overstates a single fact in regarding slavery as it is. -Lloyd garrison- Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass Pg 84-mid page That very discontentment that which master Hugh had predicted.. had roused my soul to eternal wakefulness . Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass Pg 90; we were all ranked together with horses, sheep, and swineeffects of slavery upon both slave and slaveholder. Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass. If you give a n***** an inch hell take an ell learning would spoil the best n***** Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass What he most dreaded, that I most desired. What he most loved, that I most hated. That which him was a great evil, to be carefully shunned was to me great good, to be diligently sought. Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass I am going away to the Great House Farm O yea o yea Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass I was myself within the circle; so that I neither saw nor heard as those without might see and hear Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass as American Slave, Frederick Douglass

Longer Quotes dont think they will be on the test. Pg56-57 the home plantationslaves of the political parties. Douglass Page 81-82; my mistress was, .slavery were incompatible with each other. Douglass Page 74: mr and mrs. Aduld were both at home, and met me..my new home with the most cheering prospect ahead. Douglass

#13 2011-10-06 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by:Elizabeth Alvarez When watching the autobiography of Fredrick Douglas, Douglas was told to just give the facts and they(whites) will make the philosophy. Douglas was writing a novel about truth. Blacks were misrepresented because the true stories were not expressed. The story of how Fredrick Douglas escaped slavery was not told because he did not want to people to find out. If people found out, other slaves trying to escape slavery would get caught. He also did not want to get those in trouble that were trying to free slaves . The story of Fredrick Douglas is a book that tells a history of slavery and what it was like. Showing a person of slavery become a man. History vs. Literature -literature is where one tells the story of history based on real events. When looking at the historical sense, T.S Elliot says new works can change the past, and vise versa. T.S Elliot in the 20s was saying that American Literature is really British Literature. Therefore because of this, he leaves America. He takes artifacts from culture and makes new things. T.S Elliot quotes in his poem Til human voices wake us, we drown... this means that because things are seen as black and white, we remain confused on what he really means. T.S Elliot quotes how water is white and black, and how we lingered by these chambers, he means that people see one thing, while he means

#14 2011-10-11 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Mike Miller
Raymond Williams talks about Culture (capital C). See cultures in three strands: Residual - once dominant, on way out Emergent - new, just beginning (T.S. Elliots modernisms, H.D.'s imagisms) early 20th Dominant - What you would expect 9/10 people to know (e.x. who's Michael Jordan? or What does Italian Opera sound like?). From high to low culture, shared identity. T.S. Elliot: Culture goes all the way down, shared on all levels Culture is things that you aren't aware of, but affect you in fundamental ways. Way culture works: binary opposites. One thing is defined is to the exclusion of another thing. e.x. "To be male is to be not male" "To be female is to be not male." Reason we have trouble abandoning stereotypes: because stereotypes embody these binary opposite. Hegemony - make stereotypes appear natural. Internalize the norms. Eliot - Shaper of anglo-American Culture. Wrote great works of western literature. Strange thing for 21st century: when he was writing in teens and 20s, high culture was british culture. George Barker - Great American literature easy to understand, because it doesn't exist. Elliot leaves America because American culture is too thin for an artist. Eliot: have large group of respected literature. When you right new work of art, it will not only find a place amongst the works, but reorder these works. Before eliot, most quoted author was Alexander Pope. New works can also change the past, as much as the past change the present. Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: Read out loud "Let us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherised upon a table Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells Streets that follow like a tedious arguments Of insidious intent To lead you an overwhelming question Oh, do not ask 'What is it?' Let us go and make out visit.

In the room the women come and go Talking of Michaelangelo." Many allusions e.x. 12th night to Shakespeare Some people see divided part in prufrock: one wants to see the woman, and another part which just can't do it. Others just see the author talking to the reader. "I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the bind blows the water white and black We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown" Elliot can take Spahespeare, Dante and make something new expressing his own feelings,r elating back to our own world. --W.B. Yeats; Leda and the Swan (entire poem read) "A sudden blow: the great wings beating still Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill, He holds her helpless breast upon his breast. How can those terrified vague fingers push The feathered glory from her loosening thighs? And how can body, laid in that white rush, But feel the strange heart beating where it lies? A shudder in the loins engenders there The broken wall, the burning roof and tower And Agamemnon dead. Being so caught up, So mastered by the brute blood of the air, Did she put on his knowledge with his power Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?" Showed pictures of Leda and the Swan from Da Vinci, Pontormo, Boucher, Corregio, Amanati, Gericault Isn't until the 19th century that Leda becomes terrible thing, pushing the swan away. Doesn't become a rape until the 19th century.

--H.D. Leda (entire poem) "Where the slow river meets the tide, a red swan lifts red wings and darker beak, and underneath the purple down of his soft breast uncurls his coral feet. Through the deep purple of the dying heat of sun and mist, the level ray of sun-beam has caressed the lily with dark breast, and flecked with richer gold its golden crest. Where the slow lifting of the tide, floats into the river and slowly drifts among the reeds, (20) and lifts the yellow flags, he floats where tide and river meet. Ah kingly kiss no more regret nor old deep memories to mar the bliss; where the low sedge is thick, the gold day-lily outspreads and rests beneath soft fluttering of red swan wings and the warm quivering of the red swans breast. (1919, 1921)" Where is Leda? Is she the lily? Is she the red swan? Bremen asserts Leda is the speaker of the poem.

#15 2011-10-13 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Joshua Horne
E316K TTH 12:30pm Lecture 15, 10/13 2011 Topic: Moving from emerging idea of African American cultural production to a time of cultural consumption by African Americans. Cultural production ( i.e. the Harlem renaissance creating unique cultural artistic material) --> Cultural consumption Author - Authority - Authorization - Authentic Raymond Williams - Culture R - Residual E- Emergent D- Dominant Hegemony - gaining the complicity of subordinate groups in the support of the dominant by winning or shaping consent so that the power of the dominant classes appears both legitimate and natural. Internalization of particular, i.e. racist, norms Demonization - Splitting: Good Self/Bad Self - Projection onto lower parts of African American culture HISTORY - LITERATURE "Between the wolf in the tall grass and the wolf in the tall story there is a shimmering gobetween. That go-between, that prism, is the art of literature." LANGSTON HUGHES - THE NEGRO ARTIST AND THE RACIAL MOUNTAIN (1926) Quote to know: "One of the most promising of the young Negro poets said to me once, "I want to be a poet-not a Negro poet," meaning, I believe, "I would like to be a white poet"; meaning behind that, "I would like to be white." And I was sorry the young man said that, for no great poet has ever been afraid of being himself. And I doubted then that, with his desire to run away spiritually from his race, this boy would ever be a great poet. But this is the mountain standing in the way of any true Negro art in America-this urge within the race toward whiteness, the desire to pour racial individuality into the mold of American standardization, and to be as little Negro and as much American as possible." W.E.B. DU BOIS - THE SOULS OF BLACK FOLK Quotes to know: "Then it dawned upon me with a certain suddenness that I was different from the others; or like, mayhap, in heart and life and longing, but shut out from their world by a vast veil. I had thereafter no desire to tear down that veil, to creep through..." "After the Egyptian and Indian, the Greek and Roman, the Teuton and Mongolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world, -- a

world which yields him no true self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his twoness, -- an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder. "I sit with Shakespeare and he winces not. Across the color line I move arm in arm with Balzac and Dumas, where smiling men and welcoming women glide in gilded halls. From out the caves of evening that swing between the strong-limbed earth and the tracery of the stars, I summon Aristotle and Aurelius and what soul I will, and they come all graciously with no scorn nor condescension. So, wed with Truth, I dwell above the Veil. Is this the life you grudge us, O knightly America? Is this the life you long to change into the dull red hideousness of Georgia? Are you so afraid lest peering from this high Pisgah, between Philistine and Amalekite, we sight the Promised Land? (Du Bois is able to mingle with Balzac, Shakespeare, and Dumas, all great writers, above the veil) Du Bois VS. Hughes - Du Bois celebrates high culture and calls for integration with unique Negro cultural ideals, Hughes celebrates blackness over normal, accepted high culture in a way that hints at a reverse in the hierarchy of the two concepts. COUNTEE CULLEN - "YET DO I MARVEL" I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind, And did He stoop to quibble could tell why The little buried mole continues blind, why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die, Make plain the reason tortured Tantalus Is baited by the fickle fruit, declare If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus To struggle up a never-ending stair. Inscrutable His ways are, and immune To catechism by a mind too strewn With petty cares to slightly understand What awful brain compels His awful hand. Yet do I marvel at this curious thing: To make a poet black, and bid him sing! (^^^ a good example of high culture infused with Negro creativity) JOE WOOD - WHO SAYS A WHITE BAND CAN'T PLAY RAP? Quotes to know: "Yes, y'all. Graceland was a very troubling place. What Graceland proves is this: Elvis could have bought anything he wanted, but he didn't know what to buy. Looks like Elvis didn't expose himself to much: the Great White American Consumer had no taste at all. Which, of course, doesn't matter. It's not Elvis's parochial, whitetrash taste that matters, or his bloated-ass, momma's boy, never-met-a-drug-I-wouldn't-take paranoia. It doesn't even matter if Elvis made that ignorant statement about colored people and shoe-shining because the icon, not Elvis the

man, is the Elvis we all know, and Elvis the icon isn't nothing but a reflection of white American desires. Especially white American consumerist desires." "Negroes listen to and play Negro music, not our music. Fear of the black consumer: then, as now, black artists-- culture consumers who took in stuff and made it theirs, and expressed it-- did not really exist in the popular imagination. Chuch Berry as "the black artist who took in country music" did not exist. Neither did cultural literates Howling Wolf, or Fats Domino, or Bo Diddley. (Or for that matter, the Dostoyevski-reading Richard Wright or the cubism-inspired Romare Bearden.) Instead, their stuff-- a blues-based performance music informed by myriad American influences-- was seen as "natural black stuff" and not African-American art, or American art, as Presley's rock and roll would be. Not American art worthy of mainstream attention. (Chuck D. an American poet? Hah!) Blacks are natural cultural resources, containers of unrefined cultural wealth and lots of (our) green. As resources, they are not consumers: they are objects, not subjects. Parasites, maybe... but not fellow consumers. Went the logic. And still does, in closeted ways.

#16 2011-10-18 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Ali #17 2011-10-20 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Anna Schmid
Course Info: Journal: Use the principles for good reading that Nabokov and Perrine describe. What does education by poetry mean? How this idea of metaphor or one understanding is to look for similarities and differences. (overdetermined) TERMS: HAVE MULTIPLE REASONS, SOMETIMES CONTRACDITORY, JUST MANY DIFFERENT MEANINGS READING HISTORY LITERATURE ROMANTIC TRADITION WRITING CULTURE ART REAL GENDER

AUTHORITY AUTHENTICITY AUTHOR RACE METAPHOR

SEXUALITY CLASS READER DEMONIZATION SIGNIFYIN(G)

MULTICULTURALISM-NOT FOND OF THIS TERM. HE THINKS OF DISNEY WORLD, ALL CULTURES COMING TOGETHER. MULTICONTEXTUALISM-PREFERS, HOW THESE CULTURES; GENDERS, RACES, DONT EXIST INDEPENDENT OF EACH OTHER BUT IN CONTEXT TOGETHER. PG. 276 in xeroxes RAYMOND WILLIAMS (residual (things that were dominant in the past and on their way out)-emergent- (new ways of understanding, new ideas) dominant (the way you work and breather in a culture) You see three strands. Fredric Jameson-Cultural Dominant (3 moments from 1820 to present, where the cultural dominant is comparing realism to romance (1820 to 1920), new strand modernism becomes emergent b/w 1865 to 1960, *Thing to remember Unlike dates, period are not facts. They are retrospective conceptions that we form about past events, useful to focus discussion, but very often leading historical thought astray. Trevelyn 1949 -nobody 1865 to 1960 Ill think it call it modernism they look back at ways of going on and new works and then decide to call it modernism. There is nothing in stone, things are open for revision. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn: The most banned book in American History. The most controversy had to do with class. People were uneasy with Huck being the hero of the book. High culture and low culture. During the writing of Huck Finn, Twain wrote another piece that exemplified high and low culture from a different perspective called Date 16o1 Date 1601: Conversation, As it was By the Social Fireside, In the Time of The Tudors READ THE ENTIRE PIECE UNTIL THIS LINE Then fell they to talke about the manners & customs of many peoples, Queen Elizabeth, Shakespeare is writing, sir Walter Wally, all different people come to a dinner Twain imagines and somebody farts.

-spelling didnt become regularized until the 1800s but there is a good attempt to authentic it. -people are in awe that different kinds of people come together (high and low class) -Twain has perfect imitations of these authors. This is exactly how Shakespeare would write, etc. -this mix of high and low on Twains mind, and engaging of high subjects and knowing the common touch, common people is where the sales are going to be. Twain is concerned with the sales-money. PBS Clip: Born to Trouble Issue of Race Huck Finn was a in your face, funky novel. Tom Sawyer was born in Hannibal- They celebrate Tom Sawyer/Mark Twain on 4th of July. Mark Twains hometown, it is the inspiration for his books, and shaped his moral development. It was a slaveholder town, and he never questioned it so it fuels writing. He was not aware that slavery was wrong. He was aware the brutality that slaves faced in Hannibal. They were the saddest faces he had ever seen. if the slaves were smart they would say nothing it is dangerous to speak critically. He has attraction to masses, he moves to Connecticut. He lives in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the US. The big problem in this novel is the N-word. Practical joke on Jim, when he thinks he saw a witch. If the word N didnt mean anything then we would care at present time. If it is handled without sensitivity then it is ok. By the Twain begins writing he knows the word is not acceptable and it is part of the point of him using it. so you have never used the N-word against.. contingency context, who can use the term, etc. people say this book can cause problems, but it will only cause problems if there is trouble already there. the book only reflects a culture. The use of the word differing opinions of use of the word because when it was used. it was a derogatory term, and twain knew that. to prove the point of why he is using it. it was just the term that was used alternative perspective by Fredrick Douglas- he never uses the word, the word is only used by white masters. Language has power-it can hurt. Reactions to the use of the N-word:

Nancy Methelis Words are among the most powerful things there areA grown-up, middle aged white woman using that word gives another level of meaning than a 15 year old African American student. I think I could hurt students by using it, and I dont feel that my minority students want to hear their white peers use that word either. And if it turns out were sacrificing a little academic rigor in the service of not adding to anyones pain, maybe thats okay Langston Hughes Used rightly or wrongly, ironically or seriously, of necessity for the sake of realism, or impishly for the sake of comedy, it doesnt matter. Negros do not like it in any book or play whatsoever, be the book or play ever so sympathetic in its treatment of the basic problems of the race. Even though the book or play is written by a Negro, they still do not like it. The word N you see, sums up for us who are colored all the bitter years of insult and struggle in America. Dynamically opposed of reading: (Huck Finn) Pg. 27 Tom Sawyerss Comerade On either side of the Civil War. Notice: Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR Per G. G.- initials for General Grant, CHIEF OF ORDNANCE.these are things that can blow things up -Do I read it literally or ironically? -We will do the opposite as human beings EXPLANATORY In this book a number of dialects are used, to wit; the Missouri negro dialect; the extrement form of the backwoods South-Western dialect; the ordinary Pike-Country dialect; and four modified varieties of this last. The shadings have not been done in a hap-hazard fashion, or by gness-work; but pains-takingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and support: of personal familiarity with these several forms of speech. I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers would suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and not succeeding. THE AUTHOR -this is a terrible book and Twain doesnt know how to write. -this note is explaining that it is a painful book and I have taken a great deal to craft the way people really speak. -how do you read?

Pg. 262 (Jim) Dah,now, Huck, what I tell you?-what I tell you up dah on Jackson islan? I tole you I got a hairy breas, en whats de sign un it; en I tole you I ben rich wunst, en gwineter to be rich again; en its come true; en heah she is! Dah, now! Doan talk to me-signs is signs, mine I tell you; en I knowed jiss well at I uz gwinter be rich agin as Is a stannin health dis minute! signs is signs-what you read is what you get Pg. 215 Looky here, Huck, what fools we are, to not think of it before! I bet I know where Jim is. No! Where? In that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at dinner, didnt you see a N man go in there with some vittles? Yes. What did you think the vittles was for? For a dog. Sod I. Well, it wasnt for a dog. Why? Because part of it was watermelon. So it was-I noticed it. Well, it does beat all, that I never thought about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and dont see at the same time. See and dont see- you have to look beyond that, you have to read metaphorically, ironically. These are the two different types of reading. Huck is a racist at the beginning and at the end. He does not change. Journal/look over closely: Ch. 3, 14-16, 31-End

#18 2011-10-25 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Syeda
Lecture #18 (10/20) Syeda Masooma Javaid masurizvi@gmail.com Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. [Mark Twain] "Dah now, Huck what I tell you?--what I tell you up dah on Jackson Islan? I tole you I got a hairy breas', en whats the sign un it; en I tole you I ben rich

wunst, en gwineter to be rich agin; en it's come true; en heah she is! Dah now! doan' talk to me--signs is signs, mine i tell you; en i knowed jis' 's well 'at I 'uz gwineter to be rich agin as I's a stannin' heah dis minute!' [Mark Twain] " So it was--I noticed it. Well, it does beat all, that I never thought about a dog not eating a watermelon. It shows how a body can see and does not see at the same time." [Mark Twain]

#19 2011-10-27 12:30:01 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by:
Lecture notes from October 27th, 2011 These excerpts are pretty long, but he read them all word for word out loud during class. I bolded the sentences that he really emphasized. Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (CHAPTER 9) I never see such a nigger. If he got a notion in his head once, there warnt no getting it out again. He was the most down on Solomon of any nigger I ever see. So I went to talking about other kinds, and let Solomon slide. I told about Louis Sixteenth that got his head cut off in France long time ago; and about his little boy the dolphin, that would a been a kind, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say he died there. Po little chap But some says he got out and got away, and come to America. Dats good! But hell be pooty lonesome-dey ain no kings here, is dey, Huck? No Den he cant git np situation. What he gwane do? Well, I dont know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them learns people how to talk French. Why Huck, doan de French people talk de same way we does? No, Jim; you couldnt understand a word they said-not a single word Well now I be ding-busted! How do dat come? I dont know, but its so. I got some of their jabber out of a book. Spose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voofranzy-what would you think? I wouldnt think nuffn; id take en bust him over de head. Dat is, if he warnt white. I wouldnt low no nigger to call me dat. Shucks, it aint calling you anything. Its only saying do you know how to talk French Well den why couldnt he say it? Why, he is a saying it. Thats a Frenchmans way of saying it. Well, its a blame ridicklous way en I doan want to hear no mo bout it. Dey aint not sense in it. Looky here Jim, does a cat talk like we do? No a cat dont Well does a cow? no, a cow dont, nuther Does a cat talk like a cow, or a cow talk like a cat? no, dey dont its natural and right for em to talk different from each other, aint it? course and aint it natural and right for a cat and a cow to talk different from us? Why, most sholy it is well, then, why aint it natural and right for a Frenchman to talk different from us? You answer me that. is a cat a man, Huck? no well den dey aint no sense in a cat talking like a man. Is a sow a man-er is a cow a cat? no she aint either of them well den she aint got no business to talk to talk like either one er the yuther of em. Is a Frenchman a man? yes well den, dad blame it, why doan he talk like a man? You answer me dat! I see it warnt no use wasting words-you cant learn a nigger to argue. So I quit

Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (Solomon Story) I read considerable to Jim about kinds, and dukes, and earls, and such, and how gaudy they dresses, and how much style they put on, and called each other your majesty, and your grace, and your lordship, and so on, stead of mister; and Jims eyes bugged out, and he was interested. He says: I didnt know dey was so many of em. I aint hearn bout none un em, skasly, but ole King Sollermun, onless you counts dem kings dats in a pack er kyards. How much do a king git? Get? I says, why they get a thousand dollars a month if they want it; they can have just as much as they want; everything belongs to them. Ain dat gay? En what dey got to do, Huck? They dont do nothing! Why how you talk. They just set around No, is dat so? Of course it is, they just set around. Except maybe when theres a war, then they go to the war. But other times they just lazy around; or go hawking, just hawking and sp-sh!-d you hear a noise? We skipped out and looked;but it warnt nothing but the flutter of a steamboats wheel, away down coming around the point; so we come back. Yes says I, and other times, when things is dull, they fuss with the parlyment, and if everybody dont go just so he whacks their heads off. But mostly they hang round the harem. Roun de which? Harem what de harem? The place where he keeps his wives. Dont you know about the harem? Solomon had one; he had about a million wives. Why yes, dats so; Id done forgot it. A harems a bodn-house, I reckn. Mos likely dey has rackety times in de nussery. En I reckn de wives quarrels considable; en dat crease de racket. Yit dey say Sollermun de wises man wat to live in de mids er sich a blimblammin all de time? No-deed he wouldnt. A wise man us take en buil a biler-factry; en den he could shet down de biler-factry when he want to res. well, but he was the wiset man, anyway; because the widow she told me so, her own self. I doan kyer what de wider say, he warnt no wise man, nuther. He had some er de dad-fetchedes ways I ever see. Does you know bout dat chile dat he uz gqyne to chop in two? Yes , the widow told me all about it. well, den! Warn dat de beatenes notion in de worl? you jes take en look at it a minute. Dahs de stump, dah-dats one er de women; heahs you-dats de yuther one; Is Sollermun; en dish-yer dollar bills de chile. Bofe un you claims it. What does I do? Does I shin aroun mongs de neighbors en fine out which un you de bill do blong to, en han it over to de right one, all safe en soun, de way dat anybody dat had any gumption would? No-I take en whack de bill in two, en give half un it to you, en de yuther half to de yuther woman. Dats the way Sollermun was gwyne to do wid de chile. Now I want to ast you: whats de use er dat half a bill? Cant buy nothing wid it. En what use is a half a chile? I wouldn giver a dern for a million en um. But hang it, Jim, youve clean missed the point-blame it, youve miss it a thousand mile. Who? Me? Go long. Doan talk to me bout yo pints. I reckn I knows sense when I sees it; en dey ain no sense in sich doins as dat. De spute warnt bout a half a chile, de spute was bout a whole chile; en de man dat think he kin settle a spute bout a whole chile wid a half chile, doan know enough to come in outn de rain. Doan talk to me bout Sollermun, Huck, I knows him by de back. But I tell you you dont get the point Blame de pint! I reckn I knows what I knows. En mine you, de real pint is down furder-its down deeper. It lays in de way Sollermun was raised. You take a man dats got ony one er two chillen; is dat man gwyne to be wasful o chillen? No he aint; he cant ford it. He know how to value em. But you take a man dats got bout five million chillen runnin roun de house, en its diffunt. He as soon chop a chile in two as a cat. Deys plenty mo. A chile er two, mo er less, warnt no consekens to Sollermun, dad fetch him! I never seen such a nigger. Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (Cairo): There warnt nothing to do, now, but to look out sharp for the town and not pass it without seeing it. He said hed be mighty sure to see it, because hed be a free man the minute he seen it, but if he missed it hed be in the slave country again and no more show for freedom. Every little while he jumps up and says: dah she is! But it warnt. It was jack-o-lanterns, or lightning-bugs; so he set down again, and went to watching, same as before. Jim said it made him all over trembly and feverish to be so close to freedom. Well, I can tell you it made me all over trembly and feverish, too, to hear him, because I begun to get it through my head that he was most free-and who was to blame for it? Why, me. I couldnt get that out of my conscience, no how nor no way. It got to troubling me so I couldnt rest; I couldnt stay still in one place. It hadnt ever come home to me before, what this thing was that I was doing. But now it did; and it staid with me, and scorched me more and more. I tried to make out to myself that I warnt

to blame, because I didnt run jim off from his rightful owner; but it warnt no use, conscience up and says, every time but you knowed he was running for his freedom, and you could a paddled ashore and told somebody. That was so-I couldnt get around that, noway. That was where it pinched. Conscience says to me, what had poor Miss Watson done to you, that you could see her nigger go off right under your eues and never say one single word? What did that poor old woman do to you, that you could treat her so mean? Why, she tried to learn you your book, she tried to learn you your manners, she tried to be good to you every way she knowed how. Thats what she done. I got to feeling so mean and so miserable I most wished I was dea. I fidgeted up and down the raft, abusing myself to myself and jim was fidgeting up and down past me. We neither of us could keep still. Every time he danced around and says. dahs Cairo it went through me like a shot, and I thought if it was Cairo I reckoned I would die miserableness. Jim talked out loud all the time while I was talking to myself. He was saying how the first thing he would do when he got to a free State he would go to saving up money and never spend a single cent, and when he got enough he would buy his wife, which was owned on a farm close to where Miss Watson lived; and then they would both work to buy the two children and if their master wouldnt sell them, theyd get an abolishionsit to go and steal them. It most froze me to hear such talk. He wouldnt ever dared to talk such talk in his life before. Just see what a difference it made in hjim the minute he judged he was about free. It was according to the old saying, give a nigger an inch and hell take an ell thinks I, this is what come of my not thinking. Here was this nigger which I had as good as helped to run away, coming right out flat-footed and saying he would steal his children-children that belonged to a man I didnt even know; a man that hadnt ever done me no harm. I was sorry to hear jim say that, it was such a lowering of him. My conscience got to stirring me up hotter that ever, till at last I says to it let up on me-it aint too late, yet-Ill paddle ashore at the first light and tell I felt easy, and happy, and light as a feather, right off. All my troubles was gone. I went to looking out sharp for a light, and sort of singing to myself. By and by one showed.

#20 2011-11-01 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: #21 2011-11-03 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Jordan Bookstaff
Bremen 316K Lecture 21: 11/03 END OF HUCK FINN TO RAYMOND CHANDLER; ROMANCE/REALISM Huck Finn, Mark Twain: p. 215- Watermelon shows man -Plan to steal Jim p. 220- Tom says if they want to steal Jim they just could, but he wants to make it difficult. Invent all the difficulties, more honor What a head for just a boy to have, wouldnt trade it for a Duke Huck One of Bremens favorite lines: Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot Joking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway ni**a

All right then, Ill go to hell Huck and Tom talk about borrowing vs. stealing Jim Jane Smiley- talks about ridiculous ending in stealing Jim Henry James- real vs. romantic Bremens favorite line in book, when at doctor after Tom shot: Howd you say he got shot? He had a dream, and it shot him. Singular dream Raymond Chandler, The Simple Art of Murder Writes what is then considered pulp fiction Says all fiction intended to be realistic He talks about a man of honor a good man a common man the best man

#22 2011-11-08 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Derek Martin
Listed below are the lecture quotes for Lecture 22 on 11/08. I attached a word document with them in case that is easier to read. Also, when will the notes/google doc be posted and how do I access it? I can also add general lecture notes that aren't just the quotes to the document. Quotes: Raymond Chandler Red Wind The girl stood over him, looking down. Then her wide dark horrified eyes came up and fastened on mine. That buys me, I said. Anything I have is yours now and forever. Xerox p. 297 little page 385 There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make

your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge. Xerox page 289 little page 368 To the memory of Mr. Stan Phillips, I said out loud. Just another flour flusher. I flipped her pearls out into the wter one by one, at the floating seagulls. Xerox page 313 little page 417 Flannery OConnor Some Aspects of the Grotesque in Southern Fiction I think that every writer, when he speaks of his own approach to fiction, hopes to show that, in some crucial and deep sense, he is a realist; and for some of us, for whom the ordinary aspects of daily life prove to be of no great fictional interest, this very difficult. I have found that if ones young hero cant be identified with the average American boy, or even with the average American delinquent, then his perpetrator will have a good deal of explaining to do. Xerox page 327 little page 37 When we look at a good deal of serious modern fiction, and particularly Southern fiction, we find this quality about it that is generally described, in a pejorative sense, as grotesque. Of course, I have found that anything that comes out of the South is going to be called grotesque by the Northern reader, unless it is grotesque, in which case it is going to be called realistic. But for this occasion, we may leave such misapplications aside and consider the kind of fiction that may be called grotesque with good reason, because of a directed intention that way on the part of the author. Xerox page 329 little page 40 All novelists are fundamentally seekers and describers of the real, but the realism of each novelist wil depend on his view of the ultimate reaches of reality. Since the eighteenth century, the popular spirit of each succeeding age has tended more and more to the view that the ills and mysteries of life will eventually fall before the scientific advances of man, a belief that is still going strong even though this is the first generation to face total extinction because of these advances. If the novelist is in tuen with this spirit, if he believes that actions are predetermined by psychic make-up or the economic situation or some other determinable factor, then he will be concerned above all with an accurate reproduction of the things that most immediately concern man, with the natural forces that he feels control his destiny. Such a writer may produce a great tragic

naturalism, for by his responsibility to the things he sees, he may transcend the limitations of his narrow vision. On the other hand, if the writer believes that our life is and will remain essentially mysterious, if he looks upon us as beings 0065isting in a created order to whose laws we freely respond, then what sees on the surface will be of interest to him only as he can go through it into an experience of mystery itself. His kind of fiction will always be pushing its own limits outward toward the limits of mystery, because for this kind of writer, the meaning of a story does not begin except at a depth where adequate motivation and adequate psychology and the various determinations have been exhausted. Such a writer will be interested in what we dont understand rather than what we do. He will be interested possibility rather than in probability. He will be intereste in characters who are forced out to meet evil and grace and who act on a trust beyond themselves whether they know very clearly what it is they act upon or not. To the modern mind, this kind of character, and his creator, are typical Don Quixotes, tilting at what is not there. Xerox pages 329-330 little pages 41-42 Henry James said that Conrad in his fiction did things in the way that took the most doing. I think the writer of grotesque fiction does them in the way that takes the least, because in his work distances are so great. He's looking for one image that will connect or combine or embody two points; one is a point in the concrete, and the other is a point not visible to the naked eye, but believed in by him firmly, just as real to him, really, as the one that everybody sees. It's not necessary to point out that the look of this fiction is going to be wild, that it is almost of necessity going to be violent and comic, because of the discrepancies that it seeks to combine. Xerox page 330 little pages 42-43 Even though the writer who produces grotesque fiction may not consider his characters any more freakish than ordinary fallen man usually is, his audience is going to; and it is going to ask himor more often, tell himwhy he has chosen to bring such maimed souls alive. Xerox page 330 little page 43 In nineteenth-century American writing, there was a good deal of grotesque literature which came from the frontier and was supposed to be funny; but our present grotesque characters, comic though they may be, are at least not primarily so. They seem to carry an invisible burden; their fanaticism is a reproach, not merely an eccentricity. I believe that they come about from the prophetic vision peculiar to any novelist whose concerns I have been describing. In the novelist's case, prophecy is a matter of seeing near things with their extensions of meaning and thus of seeing far things close up. The prophet is a

realist of distances, and it is this kind of realism that you find in the best modern instances of the grotesque. Xerox page 331 little page 44 Whenever I'm asked why Southern writers particularly have a penchant for writing about freaks, I say it is because we are still able to recognize one. To be able to recognize a freak, you have to have some conception of the whole man, and in the South the general conception of man is still, in the main, theological. That is a large statement, and it is dangerous to make it, for almost anything you say about Southern belief can be denied in the next breath with equal propriety. But approaching the subject from the standpoint of the writer, I think it is safe to say that while the South is hardly Christ-centered, it is most certainly Christhaunted. The Southerner, who isn't convinced of it, is very much afraid that he may have been formed in the image and likeness of God. Ghosts can be very fierce and instructive. They cast strange shadows, particularly in our literature. In any case, it is when the freak can be sensed as a figure for our essential displacement that he attains some depth in literature. Xerox page 331 little pages 44-45 The Southern writer is forced from all sides to make his gaze extend beyond the surface, beyond mere problems, until it touches that realm which is the concern of prophets and poets. Xerox page 331 little page 45 And his need, of course, is to be lifted up. There is something in us, as storytellers and as listeners to stories, that demands the redemptive act, that demands that what falls at least be offered the chance to be restored. The reader of today looks for this motion, and rightly so, but what he has forgotten is the cost of it. His sense of evil is diluted or lacking altogether, and so he has forgotten the price of restoration. Xerox page 333 little page 48 Flannery OConnor A Good Man Is Hard To Find "Yes'm," The Misfit said as if he agreed. "Jesus thown everything off balance. It was the same case with Him as with me except He hadn't committed any crime and they could prove I had committed one because they had the papers on me. Of course," he said, "they never shown me my papers. That's why I sign myself now. I said long ago, you get you a signature and sign everything you do and keep a copy of it. Then you'll know what you done and you can hold up the crime to the punishment and see do they match and in the end you'll have something to prove you ain't been treated right. I call myself The Misfit," he said, "because I

can't make what all I done wrong fit what all I gone through in punishment." Xerox pages 346-347 little pages 27-28 Weve had an ACCIDENT "Nome, I ain't a good man," The Misfit said after a second as if he had considered her statement carefully, "but I ain't the worst in the world neither. My daddy said I was a different breed of dog from my brothers and sisters. 'You know,' Daddy said, 'it's some that can live their whole life out without asking about it and it's others has to know why it is, and this boy is one of the latters. He's going to be into everything!' " Xerox page 345 little page 24 "Daddy was a card himself," The Misfit said. "You couldn't put anything over on him. He never got in trouble with the Authorities though. Just had the knack of handling them." "You could be honest too if you'd only try," said the grandmother. "Think how wonderful it would be to settle down and live a comfortable life and not have to think about somebody chasing you all the time." The Misfit kept scratching in the ground with the butt of his gun as if he were thinking about it. "Yes'm, somebody is always after you," he murmured. The grandmother noticed how thin his shoulder blades were just behind his hat because she was standing up looking down on him. "Do you ever pray?" she asked. He shook his head. All she saw was the black hat wiggle between his shoulder blades. "Nome," he said. There was a pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another. Then silence. The old lady's head jerked around. She could hear the wind move through the tree tops like a long satisfied insuck of breath. "Bailey Boy!" she called. "I was a gospel singer for a while," The Misfit said. "I been most everything. Been in the arm service, both land and sea, at home and abroad, been twict married, been an undertaker, been with the railroads, plowed Mother Earth, been in a tornado, seen a man burnt alive oncet," and he looked up at the children's mother and the little girl who were sitting close together, their faces white and their eyes glassy; "I even seen a woman flogged," he said. "Pray, pray," the grandmother began, "pray, pray . . ." "I never was a bad boy that I remember of," The Misfit said in an almost dreamy voice, "but somewheres along the line I done something wrong and got sent to the penitentiary. I was buried alive," and he looked up and held her attention to him by a steady stare.

"That's when you should have started to pray," she said. "What did you do to get sent to the penitentiary that first time?" "Turn to the right, it was a wall," The Misfit said, looking up again at the cloudless sky. "Turn to the left, it was a wall. Look up it was a ceiling, look down it was a floor. I forget what I done, lady. I set there and set there, trying to remember what it was I done and I ain't recalled it to this day. Oncet in a while, I would think it was coming to me, but it never come." "Maybe they put you in by mistake," the old lady said vaguely. "Nome," he said. "It wasn't no mistake. They had the papers on me." "You must have stolen something," she said. The Misfit sneered slightly. "Nobody had nothing I wanted," he said. "It was a head-doctor at the penitentiary said what I had done was kill my daddy but I known that for a lie. My daddy died in nineteen ought nineteen of the epidemic flu and I never had a thing to do with it. He was buried in the Mount Hopewell Baptist churchyard and you can go there and see for yourself." Xerox pages 345-346 little pages 24-26 Alone with The Misfit, the grandmother found that she had lost her voice. There was not a cloud in the sky nor any sun. There was nothing around her but woods. She wanted to tell him that he must pray. She opened and closed her mouth several times before anything came out. Finally she found herself saying, "Jesus. Jesus," meaning, Jesus will help you, but the way she was saying it, it sounded as if she might be cursing. "Yes'm," The Misfit said as if he agreed. "Jesus thown everything off balance. It was the same case with Him as with me except He hadn't committed any crime and they could prove I had committed one because they had the papers on me. Of course," he said, "they never shown me my papers. That's why I sign myself now. I said long ago, you get you a signature and sign everything you do and keep a copy of it. Then you'll know what you done and you can hold up the crime to the punishment and see do they match and in the end you'll have something to prove you ain't been treated right. I call myself The Misfit," he said, "because I can't make what all I done wrong fit what all I gone through in punishment." There was a piercing scream from the woods, followed closely by a pistol report. "Does it seem right to you, lady, that one is punished a heap and another ain't punished at all?" "Jesus!" the old lady cried. "You've got good blood! I know you wouldn't shoot a lady! I know you come from nice people! Pray! Jesus, you ought not to shoot a lady. I'll give you all the money I've got!" "Lady," The Misfit said, looking beyond her far into the woods, "there never was a body that give the undertaker a tip." Xerox pages 346-347 little pages 27-28

"Jesus was the only One that ever raised the dead," The Misfit continued, "and He shouldn't have done it. He thown everything off balance. If He did what He said, then it's nothing for you to do but thow away everything and follow Him, and if He didn't, then it's nothing for you to do but enjoy the few minutes you got left the best way you canby killing somebody or burning down his house or doing some other meanness to him. No pleasure but meanness," he said and his voice had become almost a snarl. Xerox page 347 little page 28 "Maybe He didn't raise the dead," the old lady mumbled, not knowing what she was saying and feeling so dizzy that she sank down in the ditch with her legs twisted under her. "I wasn't there so I can't say he didn't," The Misfit said. "I wisht I had of been there," he said, hitting the ground with his fist. "It ain't right I wasn't there because if I had of been there I would of known. Listen lady," he said in a high voice, "if I had of been there I would of known and I wouldn't be like I am now." His voice seemed about to crack and the grandmother's head cleared for an instant. She saw the man's face twisted close to her own as if he were going to cry and she murmured, "Why you're one of my babies. You're one of my own children!" She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. The Misfit sprang back as if a snake had bitten him and shot her three times through the chest. Then he put his gun down on the ground and took off his glasses and began to clean them. Xerox pages 347-348 little pages 28-29 "She would of been a good woman," The Misfit said, "if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life." "Some fun!" Bobby Lee said. "Shut up, Bobby Lee," The Misfit said. "It's no real pleasure in life." Xerox page 347 little page 29 "Listen," Bailey began, "we're in a terrible predicament! Nobody realizes what this is," and his voice cracked. His eyes were as blue and intense as the parrots in his shirt and he remained perfectly still. The grandmother reached up to adjust her hat brim as if she were going to the woods with him but it came off in her hand. She stood staring at it and after a second she let it fall on the ground. Hiram pulled Bailey up by the arm as if he were assisting an old man. John Wesley caught hold of his father's hand and Bobby Lee followed. They went off toward the woods and just as they reached the dark edge, Bailey turned and supporting himself against a gray naked pine trunk, he shouted, "I'll be back in a minute, Mamma, wait on me!" Xerox page 344 little page 23

Bruce Springsteen Nebraska (song) Link: http://www.en.utexas.edu/Classes/Bremen/e316k/texts/nebraska.html

#23 2011-11-10 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Gagne
Beg of Pulp Fiction: Quentin Tarantino page 32 bottom of the page Jules: There's a passage i got memorized, seems appropriate for this situation: Ezekiel 25:17. ' The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequalities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men..... ends with....And you will know my name is the Lord when i lay my vengeance upon you.' Barn Burning- William Faulkner pg. 366 right hand side: Why he chooses fire: " That night they camped, in a groove of oaks and beeches where a spring ran.....ends with... the element of steel or of powder spoke to other men, as the one weapon for the preservation of integrity, else breath were not worth the breathing, and hence to be regarded with respect and used with discretion." the whole paragraph was read in class. but he emphasized the bolded line. pg 361. " Later, twenty years later, he was to tell himself, " If I had said they wanted only truth, justice, he would have hit me again." But now he said nothing. He was not crying. He just stood there. "Answer me". his father said. pg. 361: "presently he could see the grooves of oaks and cedars and other other flowering trees and shrubs where the house would be, though not the house yet......ends with the sentence....Maybe he will feel it too. Maybe it will even change him now from what maybe he couldn't help but be." Its a long paragraph but he read the whole paragraph in class so it all is fair game I believe. Pg. 361 right hand side. " Ge out of my way nigger".... and ends with the sentence.. Maybe it ain't white enough yet to suit him. Maybe he wants to mix some white sweat with it." Another long paragraph he read in lecture. ends on page 362

pg. 365 left hand page: " At midnight he was sitting on the crest of the hill....ends with the sentence... for booty-it meant nothing and less than nothing to him if it were enemy booty or his own." Also read aloud " Malbrock Has Gone to the war," properly identified John Churchill, first duke of marbough(1650-1722). who rose through the ranks from private to become one of the most famous military commanders in history. Despite his military genius, he was often accused of greed and disloyalty." ( not part of story but a side note on page 365, not sure if he would test over this but I do think it is still considered fair game."

Thanks

#24 2011-11-15 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Shahnoor Ali
Lecture # 24 November 15th, 2011 Pulp Fiction Jerome Charyn is a literary critic who writes about Tarantino and says that: Dennis Hopper sees Tarantino as a visual and verbal magician putting our culture in a Waring blender and redistributing it as an artistic, entertaining phenomenon, a modern Mark Twain, dealing with the same things as a couple of guys (Huck Finn and the exslave Jim) running away on a riverboat and going down the river on the Mississippi (xix) in Jerome Charyns Raised by Wolves: The Turbulent Art and Times of Quentin Taratino (2006) Hopper sees Tarantino as exploring American culture the way Twain explored 19th century American culture in Huck Finn. You see a pairing of a white character with a black character going through adventures together

His movies are about style as much as they are about substance, and no matter how sketchy his character may look, he makes sure they register onscreen in some indelible way. They may not have depth but they have presence The Unbearable Lightness of Being Cool (http://www.brightlightfilms.com/45/toilets.htm) The conflict between depth versus style and surface versus complexity.

One of the ways Tarantino gets talked about is in terms of a post-modern artist Tarantino is almost obsessed by words and has a verbal tick where he talks and talks and talks The way the style of the language plays a role is to be cool Jules tells Yolanda to be cool This movie as all other Tarantino movie is as allusive as T.S. Elliots The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock. There are a lot of references in Pulp Fiction to other works and other ideas and other films and TV shows in the way somebody dresses or references to Happy Days as the character of Fonzie Professor Bremen sees little differences between Modernism and Post-Modernism. He thinks there might be a distinction between emphasis or critic you are reading, but you can say the same thing with Modernism work and Post-Modernism work Modernism, T.S. Elliot as a primary Modernist author, is seen as making references to other works of literature, but there are as many references to popular culture in Eliots work as there is in high literature and high culture. The ultimate embodiment of cool is the Wolf Watched The Wolf scene from Pulp Fiction Mr. Wolf comes into the house and instructs Jimmy, Vincent, and Jules to take care of the body and clean the car. Wolf is polite and everything is done the right way. He needs things to get done quickly and in the right way. He knows who these people are in advance and knows what needs to get done. Vincent has a little bit of an attitude. When Vincent and Jules are talking about dealing with Jimmy on page 145, Vince doesnt like the way Jimmy is treating him. On page 144: o Jules says, We got to be real fucking delicate with the Jimmy situation. He is one remark away from kicking our asses out the door o Vincent: if he kicks us out what do we do? o Jules: well we aint leaving till we made a couple of phone calls, but I never wanted to reach that pitch. Jimmy is my friend and you dont bust into a friends house and start telling him whats what. (Jules rises and dries his hand and Vincent takes his place at the sink)

o Vincent: just tell him not to be abusive. He kind of freaked out back there when he saw Marvin. o Jules: well put yourself in his position. Its 8 oclock in the morning he just woke up and wasnt prepared for this shit. Dont forget who is doing who a favor. (Vincent finishes and dries his hand on a white towel) o Vincent: if the price of that favor is I gotta take shit, he can stick his favor straight up his ass Shit and ass is used frequently throughout this screen play Vince if he has to take shit then he can stick his favor up his ass In the scene when Wolf comes in and tells him what to do says please would be nice and Wolf turns around and says come again. In that scene is the one time that Wolf curses there. Wolf comes in and says things need to be come with certain decorum and Vince has this attitude, which kind of blows the whole thing. Watched a second scene when Jules and Vincent are cleaning the car They have a very philosophical and theological conversation as they are cleaning the car On page 163, A conversation between Jules, Vince, and The Wolf o The wolf: What did I say? o Jules: Dont do shit unless o The wolf: Unless what? o Jules: Unless you do it first o The Wolf: Spoken like a true prodigy o The wolf (to Vincent): how bout you, Lash Laruc? Can you keep spurs from jingling and jangling? Lash Laruc was a cowboy and there was also a TV show in 50s about Lash Laruc. He was handy with his whip o Vincent: Im cool, Mr. Wolf. My gun just went off, I dunno how. o The wolf: Fair enough o The wolf (he throws Vince his car keys): I drive real fuckin fast, so keep up. If I get my car back any different than I gave it, Monster Joes gonna be disposing of two bodies. o Jules: why do you drive fast? o The wolf: Because its a lot of fun Jules and Vincent laugh Lets move Jimmie comes through the door, camera in hand o Jimmie: wait a minute, I wanna take a picture. In the picture, Vincent is wearing the UC Santa Cruz t-shirt where there mascot are Banana Slugs and Jules is wearing the Im with stupid shirt o Jules: We aint got time, man. o Jimmie: We got time for one picture. You and Vincent get together Jules and Vincent stand next to each other. Okay, you guys, put your arms around each other.

The two men look at each other and, after a long beat, a smile breaks out. They put their arms around each other. Okay Winston, get in there o The wolf: I aint no model o Jimmie: After what a cool guy Ive been, I cant believe you do me like this. Its only thing I asked. o Jules and Vincent: Cmon Mr. Wolf o The wolf: Okay, one photo and we go. Slow dolly toward a lame camera. o Jimmie: Everybody say pepsi. o Jules: I aint fucking sayin Pepsi o Jimmie: Smile, Winston o The Wolf: I dont smile in pictures The camera goes off, flashing the screen white. o THE PHOTO FADES UP OVER WHITE: Its Jules and Vincent, their arms around each other, next to Jimmie, whose arm is around The Wolf. Everyone is smiling expect you know who. That picture raises the question Who took it? Mr. Wolf is cool because he is heterosexual and is heterosexually attractive. He has the James Bond thing going on. He has a younger girl with him, Raquel (Monster Joes daughter). Raquel makes allusive conversation on Page 168 o Raquel: I havent seen you in a long time. I miss you, were going to breakfast. So it is written, so shall it be done. They exit the tow yard. Jules and Vincent wait by Winstons Porsche o Jules: We cool? o Winston: Like it never happened. Jules and Vincent bump fists o Jules: I apologize for bein in your shit like I was o Vincent: You had every right, I fucked up. o Raquel (To Winston): Are they having a moment? o Winston: Boys, this is Raquel. Someday, all this will be hers/ o Raquel (to the boys): Hi. You know, if they ever do I Spy: The Motion Picture, you guys, Id be great. Whats with the outfits? You guys going to a volleyball game? Winston laughs, the boys groan. I Spy is one of those illusions and one of those first inter-racial TV shows that starred Bill Cosby and Robert Colt. This is when two interracial characters had equal parts and went to adventures together. Vincent begins with a description of committing an act of perfect contrition on page 158 o Vincent: Jules, did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits hes wrong, hes immediately forgiven for all the wrongdoings? o Jules: Man, get outta my face with that shit! The motherfucker who said that never had to pick up itty-bitty pieces of skull with his fingers on account of your dumb ass.

 Another point made my Wolf as they congratulate each other is on Page o The Wolf: Fine job, gentlemen. We may get out of this yet. o Jimmie: I cant believe thats the same car. o The Wolf: Well, lets not start suckin each others dicks quite yet. Phase one is complete, clean the car, which moves us right along to phage two, clean you two. With Wolf and with this buddy scene, you get an example that has been true throughout the movie, and that is that this Pulp Fiction which is hard-boiled masculinity deals with this realm called Homosocial Homosocial a word occasionally used in history and the social sciences, where it is describes social bonds between persons of the same sex; it is a neologism, obviously formed by analogy with homosexual, and just as obviously meant to be distinguished from homosexual. In fact, it is applied to such activities as male bonding, which may, as in our society, be characterized by intense homophobia, fear and hatred of homosexuality (1) Eve Sedgwick, Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (1985) The idea of Tarantinos world and the world of Pulp Fiction is a homosocial world. Meaning it is masculine world a world run by men. The bonds between the men are formed with this anxiety about crossing over a line and becoming a homosexual. It is a realm that is also ruled by the heterosexual imperative. This means that at all costs you must be hetero and cannot be gay. There are two secrets in the movie 1. Vincent Vega keeps about Marselluss wife and the heroine in his pocket 2. A secret kept between Butch and Marsellus and what happens in the basement with Zed. The heterosexual imperative organizes the entirety of Quentin Taratinos Pulp Fiction, and it does so by commanding every male character not only to cover his ass but to cover the ass of his best friend and even his worst enemy, so long as he is heterosexual, and to do so not merely metaphorically but literally. This commandment thus reveals the movies greatest fear, the heterosexual anxiety it tries to hide as well as hide from by means of an obsessive, indeed abject, homophobic displacement on the one hand and a correspondingly abject counterphobic idealization of the heterosexual womanas-wife on the other. That this double transference has gone unnoticed, and in any case unremarked, in all of the commentary this movie has elicited bespeaks the power of the heterosexual regulatory norm. From A. Samuel Kimball, Bad-Ass Dudes in Pulp Fiction: Homophobia and the Counterphobic Idealization of Women Samuel notices that the cursing that goes on the most has to do with shit and asses. The cursing goes unnoticed because this is how these guys just talk. Kimball says that there might be a less than innocent explanation. The movie adheres to the heterosexual imperative and to bury any anxiety about homosexuality in homophobic

displacement on the one hand. So the most evil characters in the movie are the homophobic displacement on the one hand, which are Zed and Maynard. If the most denigrated and worthless character is the homosexual Zed and Maynard, the most exalted character is Marsellus Wallaces wife. Watched another scene in the movie with conversation between Vincent and Jules about foot massages and Marsellus Wallaces wife What a foot massage means Vincent knows. If you are giving a foot massage to somebodys wife you are crossing the line. Steven Pinkers article on Why we curse God Damn saying gods name is vain and its still hard to say it BLOODY reference to Gods body and thats why it is still hard to say it Words have changed from religious curses to now parts of the body. There are increasing intensity as you move down the body. Curse words have a way or relieving that anxiety of sex and sexuality. The moral core and the middle of the movie have to do with the promise that Butch makes to Captain Koon about his fathers watch. We watched that scene of the movie The thing that bonds Butch with his father and his grandfather is the watch. On page 114, where Butch is arguing with himself about to go back to the apartment and says to himself: Butch: I aint gonna do this. This is a punchy move and I aint punchy! Daddy would totally fuckin understand. If he was here right now, hed say, Butch, get a grip. Its a fuckin watch, man. You lose one, ya get another. This is your life youre fuckin around with, which you shouldnt be doin, cause you only got one. Butch continues to pace, but now hes silent. Then This is my war. You see, Butch, what youre forgettin is this watch isnt just a device that enables you to keep track of time. This watch is a symbol. Its a symbol of how your father and his father before him, and his father before him, distinguished themselves in war. And when I took Marsellus Wallaces money, I started a war. This is my World War Two. That apartment in North Hollywood, thats my Wake Island. In fact, if you look at is that way, its almost kismet that Fabienne left it behind. And using that perspective, going back for it isnt stupid. It may be dangerous, but its not stupid. Because there are certain things in this world that are worth going back for. The watch is an emblem of male boding and male relationships. It has been hidden in there asses to save it from Vietnamese soldiers. When he goes back for the watch, he runs into Marsellus Wallace and they are cool. He runs away in Zeds chopper called Grace. (Grace meaning the state of Grace) Played a scene from the movie Sleep with me. Played the scene where Tarantino appears and he wrote his own part for the scene.

 Scene talking about Top Gun and how its about a bunch of guys dealing with their homosexual anxiety.

#25 2011-11-17 12:30:00 - E 316K - Bremen - TTh 12:30-2p 2011 Fall Notes by: Andrew Cho
I was assigned to do 11/17, Lecture #25. There was not much going on this lecture. He goes over the journal conference and Pulp Fiction briefly about how we guess what is in Wallace's briefcase. He goes over the optional reading that was written by Morrison and Madonna's music video "What It Feels Like For a Girl". Dr.Bremen forgot to turn the video off for the last 15 minutes of the lecture so it was very hard to listen to. He didn't really go over the Sula but here are some of the lines he read during the lecture. Toni Morrison Sula In the back of the wagon, supported by sacks of squash and hills of pumpkins, Shadrack began a struggle that was to last for twelve days, a struggle to order and focus experience. It had to do with making a place for fear as a way of controlling it. It was not death or dying that frightened him, but the unexpectedness of both. In forting it all out, he hit on the notion that if one day a year were devoted to it, everybody could get it out of the way and the rest of the year would be safe and free. In this manner he instituted National Suicide Day. What was taken by outsiders to be slackness, slovenliness or even generosity was in fact a full recognition of legitimacy of forces other than good ones. They did not believe doctors could heal-for them, none ever had done so. They did not believe death was accidental-life might be, but death was deliberate. They did not believe Nature was ever askew-only inconvenient. Plague and drought were as natural as springtime. If milk could curdle, God knows robins could fall. The purpose of evil was to survive it and they determined (without ever knowing they had made up their minds to do it) to survive floods, white people, tuberculosis, famine and ignorance. They knew anger well but not despair, and they didnt stone sinners for the same reason they didnt commit suicide-it was beneath them.

#26 2011-11-22 *(have not occurred yet [as of 11/22/2011]) Notes by: Creighton Bundy
Lecture that started with Gorgeous by Kanye West and Kid Cudi Talked about questions for the final exam: only the ones in bold face in the required readings (not the optional) o Talking about some major term or major idea not going to be a small fact thats insignificant o Good way to talk in detail about personal reactions to the major themes in the text o First thing you should do according to Bremen: take your TWO least favorite questions you dont want to answer and forget about them you only have to choose three of the six and write the equivalent of a two page paper (600-800 words) for each of those three questions. Can also talk about Madonna video, anything that we have read or talked about. You need to talk about a total of six different texts

 You cant quote exactly, dont worry about dealing with paraphrases List out the evidence youre going to use for support before the exam best thing to do o You will MAKE OR BREAK your grade on the objective section of the exam o If youve been doing the reading and paying attention should get all points o Write B-level responses on the essays (17 point=low b), but you get 100 on objective, you still have an A o One of the 20 quotation will either be one or the other: either Lonestar or House on Mango Street Bremens gift to us Played the video of the good journal conference that the film student made (same one he showed us at the beginning of the course) o Sample of a good journal conference talks about 8 different works = might be a good number to shoot for on our conferences o Still says her conclusions are still surface level engagements with the text o The conference itself is being graded, not so much the journal The relationship between reader and text is an ethical relationship that mirrors the relationship between Self and Other. Do you allow the text to present itself in its own terms as what Nabokov calls the creation of a new world or do you overwhelm it maybe even demonize it by reading it over in your own terms? Professor Bremen quote Sula was a problem in characterization because she was to be the sort of woman who could be used by other people as the classic type of evil force. Nel, on the other hand, was to be the prototypical salt of the earth type. Each contains elements of the other, such as the deeply hidden desire in Nel for the life of abandon, matched by the equally deep desire in Sula for love as possession. Sula is really outside laws, yet she is a model of self-examination, and because of her singularity she has trouble making connections with other people except Nel and Ajax. The pity is she loses them both in the process of learning and applying what she learned from Nel about a classic ideal of the community: love as possession. - from Intimate Things in Place: A Conversation with Toni Morrison, in Conversation with Toni Morrison (1994) QUOTATIONS FROM SULA: o You know you dont have to be proud with me. Proud? Sulas laughter broke through the phlegm.

What you talking about? I like my own dirt, Nellie. Im not proud. You sure have forgotten me. Maybe. Maybe not. But you a woman and you alone. And you? Aint you alone? Im not sick. I work. Yes. Of course you do. Works good for you, Nellie. It dont do nothing for me. You never had to. I never would. Theres something to say for it, Sula. Specially if you dont want people to have to do it for you. Neither one, Nellie. Neither one. You cant have it all, Sula. Nel was getting exasperated with her arrogance, with her lying at deaths door still smart talking. Why? I can do it all, why cant I have it all? You cant do it all. You a woman and a colored woman at that. You cant act like a man. You cant be walking around all independent-like, doing whatever you like, taking what you want, leaving what you dont. You repeating yourself. How repeating myself? You say Im a woman and colored. Aint that the same as being a man? Madonna video reason it was banned is because it was a woman acting like a man (2001) theres really no other reason to ban it except that its a woman acting out against men. Other song that got banned Prodigy Smack My Bitch Up Casualness of sex becomes so shocking because its a woman doing this and not a man Question: Why did Eva kill Plum? (page 71) Essay by Frank Kovarik about the Bechdel test for movies on the webiste (doesnt read any quotes aloud, but you never know) how the female characters interact in movies, shows that theres a trend towards a male perspective in literature Sula text becomes shocking when it goes against these norms o Page 47 you get the actual event described in poetic terms Eva got out of the bed, crutches under her arms Eva looked into Hannahs eyes. Is? My baby? Burning? The two women did not speak, for the eyes of each were enough for the other. Then Hannah closed hers and ran toward the voices of neighbors calling for water. o Page 71 = confrontation Hannah has with Eva

 He give me such a time. Such a time. Look like he didnt even want to be born. But he come on out. Boys is hard to bear. You wouldnt know that but they is. It was such a carryin on to get him born and to keep him alive. Just to keep his little heart beating and his little old lungs cleared and look like when he cam back from that war he wanted to git back in. After all that carryin on, just gettin him out and keepin him alive, he wanted to crawl back in my womb and well I aint got the room no more even if he could do it. Problem with Plum = he was a Heroin addict The spoon black from the cookin Hes become addicted to heroin, maybe something to get through the war, but were not really sure how it started. Sula was supposed to have the gift for metaphor, but notice that this passage is a big metaphor There wasnt space for him in my womb. And he was crawlin back. Being helpless and thinking baby thought and dreaming baby dreams and messing up his pants again and smiling all the time. I had room enough in my heart, but not in my womb, not no more. I birthed him once. I couldnt do it again. He was growed, a big old thing. Godhavemercy, I couldnt birth him twice. Id be laying here at night and he be downstairs in that room, but when I closed my eyes Id see him six feet tall smilin and crawlin up the stairs quietlike so I wouldnt hear and opening the door soft so I wouldnt hear and hed be creepin to the bed trying to spread my legs trying to get back up in my womb. He was a man, girl, a big old growed-up man. I didnt have that much room. I kept on dreaming it = its not really happening Its a metaphor for him coming back to the house and her having to take care of him Takes nutrients from the mom in the womb here (knowing him as a drug addict) shes worried of the parasitic relationship he wants with her hes acting like a baby, acting dependent and she just cant do that. o (Page 72) One night it wouldnt be no dream. Itd be true and I would have done it, would have let him if Idve had the room but a big man cant be a baby all wrapped up inside his momma no more; he suffocate. I done everything I could to make him leave me and go on and live and be a man but he wouldnt and I had to keep him out so I just thought of a way he could die like a man not all scrunched up inside my womb, but like a man. Eva couldnt see Hannah clearly for the tears, but she looked up at her anyway and said, by way of apology or explanation or perhaps

just by way of neatness, But I held him close first. Real close. Sweet Plum. My baby boy. So the ultimate reason why she set him on fire = she wanted to save his dignity and give him a way to die like a man. He didnt want to leave, he wanted to go back in his moms womb, so in her thinking, this was the best thing to do for him. Next question: Whats the deal with National Suicide Day? o (Page 14) In the back of the wagon, supported by sacks of squash and hills of pumpkins, Shadrack began a struggle that was to last for twelve days, a struggle to order and focus experience. Shadracks problem is that hes shell-shocked like Nick in In Our Time What is orderly and organized is what these shell shocked people desire not something unexpected. o It had to do with making a place for fear as a way of controlling it. He knew the smell of death and was terrified of it, for he could not anticipate it. It was not death or dying that frightened him, but the unexpectedness of both. In sorting it all out, he hit on the notion that if one day a year were devoted to it, everybody could get it out of the way and the rest of the year would be safe and free. In this manner he instituted National Suicide Day. Begins as a way for Shadrack to control the unexpected if you want to kill yourself, lets go ahead and get it out of the way on this day so that it wont be so unexpected, then we can go on and no that no one will die any other day Towns reaction is to let him have it, and then they start to plan around the day ex:oh remember that wedding? That way three days after national suicide day Becomes an organizing principle of this community. Another question: Why does Hannah die in a fire? Was her death suicide or accident?... Whole thing describes through all the strange things that happened to Eva that day Circumstances around Eva lsing her leg? (gone for 18 months) not sure if she laid her leg down on a railroad or what but she collected money for her family her husband just left her and shes out of food Plum constipated and crying, shes in outhouse that smells incredibly bad she says no more leg gone get money and have support now Her response aint that love? ultimately Evas response to everything. Plum, whatd you kill Plum for? -- Die like a man

 (Page 73) The very night before the day Hannah had asked Eva is she had ever loved them, the wind tore over the hills rattling roofs and loosening doors. Everything shook, and although the people were frightened they thought it meant rain and welcomed it. Windows fell out and trees lost arms. People waited up half the night for the first crack of lightning. Some had even uncovered barrels to catch the rain water, which they loved to drink and cook in. They waited in vain, for no lightning no thunder no rain came. The wind just swept through, took what dampness there was out of the air, messed up the yards, and went on. These are more strange signs (Page 74) Neither one bothered to look it up for they both knew the number was 522. refers to playing numbers (like us with the lottery now) where people collect money, they pick a number, and the person wins the pool. Thought that dreams would give you the number to play had dream books that interpret your dream in terms of what number you should play insight into a word that they have little control over all strange things, but the strangest is Hannahs death: o **(Page 75) Before she trundled her wagon over to the dresser to get her comb, Eva looked out the window and saw Hannah bending to light the yard fire. And that was the fifth (or fourth, if you didnt count Sulas craziness) strange thing. She couldnt find her comb. Nobody moved stuff in Evas room except to clean and then they put everything right back. But Eva couldnt find it anywhere. One hand pulling her braids loose, the other searching the dresser drawers, she had just begun to get irritated when she felt it in her blouse drawer. Then she trundled back to the window to catch a breeze, if one took a mind to come by, while she combed her hair. She rolled up to the window and it was then she saw Hannah burning. The flames from the yard firs were licking the blue cotton dress, making her dance. Eva knew there was time for nothing in this world other than the time it took to get there and cover her daughters body with her own. She lifted her heavy frame up on her good leg, and with fists and arms smashed the windowpane. Using her stump as a support on the windowsill, here good leg as a lever, she threw herself out of the window. Cut and bleeding she clawed the air trying to aim her body toward the flaming, dancing figure. She missed and came crashing down come twelve feet from Hannahs smoke. Stunned but still conscious, Eva dragged herself toward her firstborn, but Hannah, her senses lost, went flying out of the yard gesturing and bobbing like a sprung jack-in-the-box.

 Suicide or accident? - seems to be burning too quickly for it to be an accident Eva focused on herself and her missing comb Bremen says its an accident because suicide wouldnt even enter into that National Suicide Day were told in the novel that suicide is not something people normally do in this society (page 90) plague of robins that announces Sulas return to the bottom Plague and drought were as natural as springtime. If milk could curdle, God knows robins could fall. The purpose of evil was to survive it and they determined (without ever knowing they had made up their minds to do it) to survive floods, white people, tuberculosis, famine and ignorance. They knew anger well but not despair, and they didnt stone sinners for the same reason they didnt commit suicideit was beneath them. o Suicide wouldnt even be an option for them Hannah, Eva and Sula all have very egocentric views but onelegged Eva throws herself out of a window to save her daughter aint that love? Sacrificing yourself for someone else is love Sula says I have myself but Sula helps other people form themselves: o (Page 95) Although it was she alone who saw this magic, she did not wonder at it. She knew it was all due to Sulas return to the Bottom. It was like getting the use of an eye back, having a cataract removed. Her old friend had come home. Sula. Who made her laugh, who made her see old things with new eyes, in whose presence she felt clever, gentle and a little raunchy. Sula, whose past she had lived through and with whom the present was a constant sharing of perceptions. Talking to Sula had always been a conversation with herself. Was there anyone else before whom she could never be foolish? In whose view inadequacy was mere idiosyncrasy, a character trait rather than a deficiency? Anyone who left behind that aura of fun and complicity? Sula never competed; she simply helped others define themselves. She helps Nel define herself and the community define itself because they all hate Sula in their anger towards Sula they treat each other better Once Sula is gone, the community dissolves people start acting irresponsibly and treating each other badly again. What is the ball of fur that Nel sees? o Ball of fur first appears when their relationship (as far as Nel is concerned) is over because Sula slept with Nels husband.

o (page 174) after Eva confronted Nel with her responsibility in chicken littles death Sula? she whispered, gazing at the tops of trees. Sula? Leaves stirred; mud shifted; there was the smell of over-ripe green things. A soft ball of fur broke and scattered like dandelion spores in the breeze. All that time, all that time, I thought I was missing Jude. And the loss pressed down on her chest and came up into her throat. We was girls together, she said as though explaining something. O Lord, Sula, she cried, girl, girl, girlgirlgirl. It was a fine cryloud and longbut it had no bottom and it had no top, just circles and circles of sorrow. Once she realizes that Jude is gone, shes waiting for that cry/release and she realizes Sula was what was missing from her life o (Page 51) Which was only fitting, for it was in dreams that the two girls had first met. Long before Edna Finchs Mellow House opened, even before they marched through the chocolate halls of Garfield Primary School out onto the playground and stood facing each other through the ropes of the one vacant swing (Go on. No. You go.), they had already made each others acquaintance in the delirium of their noon dreams. They were solitary little girls whose loneliness was so profound it intoxicated them and sent them stumbling into Technicolored visions that always included a presence, a someone, who, quite like the dreamer, shared the delight of the dream. When Nel, an only child, sat on the steps of her back porch surrounded by the high silence of her mothers incredibly orderly house, feeling the neatness pointing at her back, she studied the poplars and fell easily into a picture of herself lying on a flowered bed, tangled in her own hair, waiting for some fiery prince. He approached but never quite arrived. But always, watching the dream along with her, were some smiling sympathetic eyes. Someone as interested as she herself in the flow of her imagined hair, the thickness of the mattress of flowers, the voile sleeves that closed below her elbows in gold-threaded cuffs. Relationship formed because they were both women and both black eyes that were watching her becomes that ball of fur once she realizes that Sula was what she needed around, the ball of fur bursts Sula helps her define herself even in her absence.

#27 2011-11-24 *(have not occurred yet [as of 11/22/2011]) Notes by:

Amrico Paredes was born on September 3, 1915, and grew up in Brownsville, Texas. He is able to trace his ancestry to the original inhabitants of Nuevo Santander (Mexico). As a young man, he attended the University of Texas to study creative writing and literary criticism and unintentionally fell into folklore when he tried to explore how to apply literary criticism to folk poetry. By age twenty Paredes had begun contributing literary pieces to La Prensa's Lunes Literario, a literary supplement published weekly. Thereafter, he issued his Cantos de adolescencia (Songs of Adolescence) (1937), and later went on to write articles on educational reform for the Brownsville Herald. Most notable, however, was Amrico Paredes's solid scholarship concerning Mexican and Mexican American folklore. Among his books are With His Pistol in His Hand: A Border Ballad and Its Hero (1958),on which the film The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez was based, The Urban Experience and Folk Tradition (1971), Toward New Perspectives in Folklore (1972), A Texas-Mexican Cancionero: Folksongs of the Lower Border (1976), and Folktales of Mexico (1979). In later years, Paredes returned to his own creative writing and published Between Two Worlds (1990), George Washington Gmez (1990), Uncle Remus Con Chile (1993), and the Hammon and the Beans and Other Stories(1994). Amrico Paredes began his folkloric career with a dissertation on the group of corridos (ballads) that told the true story of the heroic figure Gregorio Cortez. Paredes analyzed the many versions of the ballad and its portrayal of Cortez's deeds and reputed misdeeds. Naturally, Paredes chose the most complete version of the ballad for its full publication and for the preparation of the script for the film version ofThe Ballad of Gregorio Cortez. In addition, Paredes examined the cultural conflicts that have been part of life in the U.S./Mexican borderlandsthe land that folklorists and historians call Old Mexico (today commonly referred to as the American Southwest).

Am Joaquin: an Epic Poem (1967) Corky Gonzalez I am Joaquin Lost in a world of confusion, Caught up in a whirl of a gringo society, Confused by the rules, Scorned by attitudes, Suppressed by manipulations, And destroyed by modern society. My fathers have lost the economic battle and won the struggle of cultural survival. And now! I must choose Between the paradox of

Victory of the spirit, despite physical hunger Or to exist in the grasp of American social neurosis, sterilization of the soul and a full stomach. Yes, I have come a long way to nowhere, Unwillingly dragged by that monstrous, technical Industrial giant called Progress and Anglo success I look at myself. I watch my brothers. I shed tears of sorrow. I sow seeds of hate. I withdraw to the safety within the circle of life MY OWN PEOPLE I am Cuauhtmoc, Proud and Noble Leader of men, King of an empire, civilized beyond the dreams of the Gachupin Cortez. Who is also the blood, the image of myself. I am the Maya Prince. I am Nezahualcyotl, Great leader of the Chichimecas. I am the sword and flame of Cortez the despot. And I am the Eagle and Serpent of the Aztec civilization. I owned the land as far as the eye could see under the crown of Spain, and I toiled on my earth and gave my Indian sweat and blood

for the Spanish master, Who ruled with tyranny over man and beast and all that he could trample But THE GROUND WAS MINE... I was both tyrant and slave. As Christian church took its place in God's good name, to take and use my Virgin Strength and Trusting faith, The priests both good and bad took But gave a lasting truth that Spaniard, Indio, Mestizo Were all God's children And from these words grew men who prayed and fought for their own worth as human beings, for that GOLDEN MOMENT Of FREEDOM. I was part in blood and spirit of that courageous village priest Hidalgo in the year eighteen hundred and ten who rang the bell of independence and gave out that lasting cry: "El Grito de Dolores, Que mueran los Guachupines y que viva la Virgen de Guadalupe. .. I sentenced him who was me.

I excommunicated him my blood. I drove him from the pulpit to lead a bloody revolution for him and me... I killed him. His head, which is mine and all of those who have come this way, I placed on that fortress wall to wait for independence, Morelos! Matamoros! Guerrero! All Companeros in the act, STOOD AGAINST THAT WALL OF INFAMY to feel the hot gouge of lead which my hand made. I died with them... I lived with them I lived to see our country free. Free from Spanish rule in eighteen-hundred-twenty-one. Mexico was free?? The crown was gone but all his parasites remained and ruled and taught with gun and flame and mystic power. I worked, I sweated, I bled, I prayed and waited silently for life to again commence. I fought and died for Don Benito Jurez Guardian of the Constitution.

I was him on dusty roads on barren land as he protected his archives as Moses did his sacraments. He held his Mexico in his hand on the most desolate and remote ground which was his country, And this Giant Little Zapotec gave not one palm's breath of his country to Kings or Monarchs or Presidents of foreign powers. I am Joaquin. I rode with Pancho Villa, crude and warm. A tornado at full strength, nourished and inspired by the passion and the fire of all his earthy people. I am Emiliano Zapata. "This Land This Earth is OURS" The Villages The Mountains The Streams belong to the Zapatistas. Our Life Or yours is the only trade for soft brown earth and maize. All of which is our reward, A creed that formed a constitution for all who dare live free!

"this land is ours Father, I give it back to you. Mexico must be free. . ." I ride with Revolutionists against myself. I am Rural Coarse and brutal, I am the mountain Indian, superior over all. The thundering hoofbeats are my horses. The chattering of machine guns is death to all of me: Yaqui Tarahumara Chamula Zapotec Mestizo Espafiol I have been the Bloody Revolution, The Victor, The Vanquished, I have killed and been killed. I am despots Diaz and Huerta and the apostle of democracy Francisco Madero I am the black shawled faithful women who die with me or live depending on the time and place. I am faithful, humble, Juan Diego the Virgin de Guadalupe Tonantzin, Aztec Goddess too. I rode the mountains of San Joaquin. I rode as far East and North

as the Rocky Mountains and all men feared the guns of Joaquin Murrieta. I killed those men who dared to steal my mine, who raped and Killed my love my Wife Then I Killed to stay alive. I was Alfego Baca, living my nine lives fully. I was the Espinosa brothers of the Valle de San Luis All were added to the number of heads that in the name of civilization were placed on the wall of independence. Heads of brave men who died for cause and principle. Good or Bad. Hidalgo! Zapata! Murrieta! Espinosa! are but a few. They dared to face The force of tyranny of men who rule By farce and hypocrisy I stand here looking back, and now I see the present and still I am the campesino I am the fat political coyote I, of the same name, Joaquin.

In a country that has wiped out all my history, stifled all my pride. In a country that has placed a different weight of indignity upon my age old burdened back. Inferiority is the new load The Indian has endured and still emerged the winner, The Mestizo must yet overcome, And the Gauchupin we'll just ignore. I look at myself and see part of me who rejects my father and my mother and dissolves into the melting pot to disappear in shame. I sometimes sell my brother out and reclaim him for my own, when society gives me token leadership in society's own name. I am Joaquin, who bleeds in many ways. The altars of Moctezuma I stained a bloody red. My back of Indian slavery was stripped crimson from the whips of masters who would lose their blood so pure when Revolution made them pay Standing against the walls of Retribution. Blood... Has flowed from me on every battlefield

between Campesino, Hacendado Slave and Master and Revolution. I jumped from the tower of Chapultepec into the sea of fame; My country's flag my burial shroud; With Los Ninos, whose pride and courage could not surrender with indignity their country's flag To strangers ... in their land. Now I bleed in some smelly cell from club, or gun, or tyranny, I bleed as the vicious gloves of hunger cut my face and eyes, as I fight my way from stinking Barrios to the glamour of the Ring and lights of fame or mutilated sorrow. My blood runs pure on the ice caked hills of the Alaskan Isles, on the corpse strewn beach of Normandy, the foreign land of Korea and now Vietnam. Here I stand before the court of Justice Guilty for all the glory of my Raza to be sentenced to despair. Here I stand Poor in money Arrogant with pride Bold with Machismo

Rich in courage and Wealthy in spirit and faith. My knees are caked with mud. My hands calloused from the hoe. I have made the Anglo rich yet Equality is but a word, the Treaty of Hidalgo has been broken and is but another treacherous promise. My land is lost and stolen, My culture has been raped, I lengthen the line at the welfare door and fill the jails with crime. These then are the rewards this society has For sons of Chiefs and Kings and bloody Revolutionists. Who gave a foreign people all their skills and ingenuity to pave the way with Brains and Blood for those hordes of Gold starved Strangers Who changed our language and plagiarized our deeds as feats of valor of their own. They frowned upon our way of life and took what they could use. Our Art Our Literature Our Music, they ignored so they left the real things of value and grabbed at their own destruction

by their Greed and Avarice They overlooked that cleansing fountain of nature and brotherhood Which is Joaquin. The art of our great seores Diego Rivera Siqueiros Orozco is but another act of revolution for the Salvation of mankind. Mariachi music, the heart and soul of the people of the earth, the life of child, and the happiness of love. The Corridos tell the tales of life and death, of tradition, Legends old and new, of Joy of passion and sorrow of the people... who I am. I am in the eyes of woman, sheltered beneath her shawl of black, deep and sorrowful eyes, That bear the pain of sons long buried or dying, Dead on the battlefield or on the barbed wire of social strife. Her rosary she prays and fingers endlessly like the family working down a row of beets to turn around and work and work There is no end. Her eyes a mirror of all the warmth

and all the love for me, And I am her And she is me. We face life together in sorrow, anger, joy, faith and wishful thoughts. I shed tears of anguish as I see my children disappear behind a shroud of mediocrity never to look back to remember me. I am Joaquin. I must fight And win this struggle for my sons, and they must know from me Who I am. Part of the blood that runs deep in me Could not be vanquished by the Moors. I defeated them after five hundred years, and I endured. The part of blood that is mine has labored endlessly five-hundred years under the heel of lustful Europeans I am still here! I have endured in the rugged mountains of our country. I have survived the toils and slavery of the fields. I have existed in the barrios of the city, in the suburbs of bigotry, in the mines of social snobbery, in the prisons of dejection, in the muck of exploitation and in the fierce heat of racial hatred. And now the trumpet sounds, The music of the people stirs the Revolution, Like a sleeping giant it slowly

rears its head to the sound of Tramping feet Clamoring voices Mariachi strains Fiery tequila explosions The smell of chile verde and Soft brown eyes of expectation for a better life. And in all the fertile farm lands, the barren plains, the mountain villages, smoke smeared cities We start to MOVE. La Raza! Mejicano! Espahol! Latino! Hispano! Chicano! or whatever I call myself, I look the same I feel the same I Cry and Sing the same I am the masses of my people and I refuse to be absorbed. I am Joaquin The odds are great but my spirit is strong My faith unbreakable My blood is pure I am Aztec Prince and Christian Christ I SHALL ENDURE! I WILL ENDURE!