Just to continue the theme of the Japanese haiku, I thought I'd throw in my two cents (and since it's a penny for one's thoughts, I suppose I get to express two).
On the one hand, I find it darkly amusing that America has chosen to try and quietly sweep the whole Japanese internment camp ordeal under the proverbial rug. Granted, I'm not as well-versed with the rationale behind the Executive Order which authorized it so I can't completely condemn the decision (although I do with the current amount of knowledge I possess on the subject). With that out of the way, I found each of the following haiku to have a certain resonance:
On certain days
heart is full of hypocrisy
flowers of gobo are purple
Black clouds instantly shroud
autumn sky
hail storming against us today also
I find the "heart full of hypocrisy" phrase to be quite pertinent. Here were a group of Japanese-Americans who understood that one of Americas great virtues (supposedly) was its acceptance of everyone (unless of course they were black; then they still were considered sub-human. Irony creeps up all the time...). Here the Japanese-Americans were denied the freedoms they probably came here to get in the first place. The insult to that injury was that the German-Americans did not suffer the same fate. Needless to say, this hypocrisy on the part of the American government did not escape the Japanese-Americans. It understandably caused them quite a bit of irritation.
With regard to the second haiku, it figuratively refers to the lives they used to have being swept away by a violent storm. What can one do against a storm? One cannot argue with a storm or any force of nature. In this case, the storm was the government and the Japanese-Americans could not argue with it either.
Not to play the moral equivalency game (although it is fun to do so sometimes), but the Japanese did far worse things to the Chinese in WWII. I'd advise people to check out a book called The Rape of Nanking to see what I'm talking about. It makes what the American government did to the Japanese-Americans look like royal treatment. I don't mean to say those actions by the Japanese excuse America's actions; I bring it up because it shows that human cruelty permeates every society in varying degrees.
P.S. I apologize if this is a bit disjointed. It's rather late and my brain is not working very well (although some would argue that is my normal state).
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Simple Yet Powerful
What seems to be a simple and short description when first glancing at the Japanese American Concentration Camp Haiku proves to be much different after reading. Even though a limited number of words were used, these haiku tell of the trying circumstances many people faced and express the pain and suffering the Japanese endured while imprisoned. The first poem takes readers on a telling journey through the first year at a concentration camp. A woman is taken in the spring for she writes "at home peony bud/ still firm. At this time she also informs readers that she's able to see her husband the day troops arrest her, but after this point she never mentions him again. Most likely this was the last time she saw her husband, and it's extremely difficult to think of never seeing a loved one again. The poet then takes readers through the summer months, into the winter with "Withered grass on ground," and finally stops again in the spring as "Dandelion has bloomed." Images of the grass and dandelions help the author explain her inner emotions and what she's thinking during this time of her imprisonment and how "On certain days/ heart is full of hypocrisy." In the haiku from the Anthology of Modern American Poetry I felt as if I sat in the concentration camp alongside this writer. I could feel the wind, hear the goat, and see the headless doll. It was if I too saw a victim fall to the ground before me. Even though the Japanese haiku appear choppy by jumping from thought to thought, short, and simple, the poets still express to the audience what they were feeling at the time, and they place readers in the same camp with their description.
Japanese American Concentration Camp Haiku
When reading the Haiku from the Japanese American Concentration Camp handout there were several stanzas that really jumped out at me, and I wanted to post them on here. These stanzas really place the reader in the anguish the writers were going through at the time they wrote them.
Black clouds instantly shroud
autumn sky
hail storming against us today also
Winter wind
relentlessly blasting shed
goat bleating
Doll without a head
lying on desk top
one evening
From The Pangolin:
"Fearful yet to be feared," the armored
ant-eater met by the driver-ant does not turn back, but
engulfs what he can
-These stanzas really capture the pain and the injustice of the imprisoned Japanese Americans and really affected me when I read them.
Black clouds instantly shroud
autumn sky
hail storming against us today also
Winter wind
relentlessly blasting shed
goat bleating
Doll without a head
lying on desk top
one evening
From The Pangolin:
"Fearful yet to be feared," the armored
ant-eater met by the driver-ant does not turn back, but
engulfs what he can
-These stanzas really capture the pain and the injustice of the imprisoned Japanese Americans and really affected me when I read them.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Image of Mind
If there was ever an indirect description of something that came across so full and vivid, it is Moore's image of the mind in "The Mind Is an Enchanting Thing." She never addresses the mind specifically, but instead parallels it with very translucent and shining imagery. "...the glaze on a / katydid-wing," "the dove- / neck animated by / sun," "the / mist the heart wears," are all examples of the reflective, fresh, almost gem-like portrayal of the mind. This kind of imagery makes the mind seem contemplative, reflective of reality, yet reflexive and influential on the essence of reality, much like how I would view the mind. There is a lot of light included in this as it relates to the sun and the shining of mist and glazed wings. I think this is important because -- if we think about this allegorically -- the mind needs something to feed off of and analyze. Without a subject, the mind is blank. That is what struck me about Moore's image of the mind: it feels transparent to me, with the ability to refract its subject and warp it or purify it.
Moore's Eternity
Marianne Moore's "What Are Years?" is a pretty profound dialogue on growing older, death, and eternity. There were two passages that really made me think about the concept and kind of gave me solace.
The first is "He / sees the deep and is glad, who accedes to mortality / and in his imprisonment rises / upon himself." The meaning I got from this was that the bird (the supposed subject of the poem) was able to look upon eternity (the deep) and was glad that he was not forced to exist in it, that his existence was temporary. I can sympathize with this because I feel that having to exist forever would be very wearying and mentally overwhelming. Having a temporary existence, in a way, is motivation to make the best of life. If you live forever, there's always tomorrow.
The second passage reads: "Though he is captive, / his mighty singing / says, satisfaction is a lowly / thing, how pure a thing joy is." This correlates with the second half of the previous quote, but focuses more on the fulfillment and enjoyment of striving to extend your mortal impression as far as you can. In many ways this reminds me of "Ode to a Nightingale" where the speaker speaks admiringly and enviously of nature's immortality. He/she realizes, however, that the temporary quality--the mortality--of life is what makes it so invigorating and special. Having no end or beginning takes the momentary enthrallment out of life. In this way, the speaker of "Ode" realizes that his/her current peace and happiness is the apex of life and is finally willing to pass on.
The bird, and therefore the speaker, of "What Are Years?" is reaching the same conclusion: he/she is grateful for the passion of life that mortality brings, and ultimately prefers it over the vastness of eternity. The final lines, "This is mortality, / this is eternity" sums up the revelation: live for the moment and you can experience eternity in everyday life.
The first is "He / sees the deep and is glad, who accedes to mortality / and in his imprisonment rises / upon himself." The meaning I got from this was that the bird (the supposed subject of the poem) was able to look upon eternity (the deep) and was glad that he was not forced to exist in it, that his existence was temporary. I can sympathize with this because I feel that having to exist forever would be very wearying and mentally overwhelming. Having a temporary existence, in a way, is motivation to make the best of life. If you live forever, there's always tomorrow.
The second passage reads: "Though he is captive, / his mighty singing / says, satisfaction is a lowly / thing, how pure a thing joy is." This correlates with the second half of the previous quote, but focuses more on the fulfillment and enjoyment of striving to extend your mortal impression as far as you can. In many ways this reminds me of "Ode to a Nightingale" where the speaker speaks admiringly and enviously of nature's immortality. He/she realizes, however, that the temporary quality--the mortality--of life is what makes it so invigorating and special. Having no end or beginning takes the momentary enthrallment out of life. In this way, the speaker of "Ode" realizes that his/her current peace and happiness is the apex of life and is finally willing to pass on.
The bird, and therefore the speaker, of "What Are Years?" is reaching the same conclusion: he/she is grateful for the passion of life that mortality brings, and ultimately prefers it over the vastness of eternity. The final lines, "This is mortality, / this is eternity" sums up the revelation: live for the moment and you can experience eternity in everyday life.
I found that "The Walls Do Not Fall" is a pretty unique interpretation of post-war reconstruction and resurrection, especially for how old it is. H.D. creates a religious mutt of a poem that includes mythology, Christianity, and Judaism among others to symbolize the rebirth of hope after the global schism of WW2. Instead of isolating belief, H.D. tries to model the sublime of each religion and fuse it into this one thematic poem. I like how she tries to match each religious persona with its parallels (ex: Amen-Ra and Christ) and presents them as spiritual allies. Especially with Amen-Ra and Christ, who are both resurrection figures of their respective beliefs, are portrayed as returning during the spring time when the desolation of the world is buried beneath new blooms.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Death in Larsen and Hemingway
Not that anyone needs to know this, but I'm playing a bit of catch up with my blog postings. That said, here we go...
After I finished reading Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, I started thinking about the ending and its similarities and differences from Larsen's Passing. In each book, a major character whom we've come to know and and connect with dies. I found it particularly intriguing that in both books the other main character played a relatively large role in that death.
Starting with Passing, Irene indirectly/directly causes Clare's death. I referred to this slightly on a previous post and I will go into more depth here. The most obvious argument for Irene directly causing Clare's death stems from Irene putting her arm on Clare just prior to Clare falling to her death. Granted, Larsen deliberately leaves this ambiguous (like a "Lady and the Tiger" sort of vibe), but one could legitimately argue that Irene's hatred/resentment of Clare forced its way to the surface an manifested itself through a rage-induced homicide. Indirectly, Irene's behavior in front of Clare's husband causes Clare's husband to come to the party in a rage. Had Irene never made him suspicious, Clare would probably have lived (although one could argue that this sort of occurrence was inevitable). Regardless of the perspective, Irene's emotions inevitably caused the death of Clare. Of course her emotions were those of anger and resentment, emotions which are the converse of Henry's.
In A Farewell to Arms, Henry's physical and emotional actions eventually cause Catherine's death. From a physical perspective, had Henry not deserted the army, it is entirely possible that Catherine would have had a safe delivery. I say that only because lots of stress and travel while pregnant can't be good for one's health or for the baby. Granted, that's not the strongest argument I could muster, but it works for now. Henry's emotional aspects contribute more greatly to Catherine's death. I deliberately left sex out of the physical aspect of my analysis only because for my purposes, the sex is merely a physical expression of an emotional need. Without the emotion (namely, lust), Catherine never would have gotten pregnant. Neither Henry nor Catherine probably wanted a baby at that point (having a baby in the middle of a war in a foreign country can't be too high on anyone's list). So, had Henry not impregnated her, she never would have died. Henry did eventually come to love Catherine (as opposed to lust after her), but his lust and his love led to Catherine's death all the same.
Catherine's death and Clare's death had a large impact on Henry and Irene respectively. At the end of Passing, everything becomes dark to Irene. At the end of A Farewell to Arms, Henry walks out into the rain. Both the dark and the rain obscure one's ability to see clearly. Ironically, both Henry and Irene see life more clearly than they did before the deaths.
After I finished reading Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, I started thinking about the ending and its similarities and differences from Larsen's Passing. In each book, a major character whom we've come to know and and connect with dies. I found it particularly intriguing that in both books the other main character played a relatively large role in that death.
Starting with Passing, Irene indirectly/directly causes Clare's death. I referred to this slightly on a previous post and I will go into more depth here. The most obvious argument for Irene directly causing Clare's death stems from Irene putting her arm on Clare just prior to Clare falling to her death. Granted, Larsen deliberately leaves this ambiguous (like a "Lady and the Tiger" sort of vibe), but one could legitimately argue that Irene's hatred/resentment of Clare forced its way to the surface an manifested itself through a rage-induced homicide. Indirectly, Irene's behavior in front of Clare's husband causes Clare's husband to come to the party in a rage. Had Irene never made him suspicious, Clare would probably have lived (although one could argue that this sort of occurrence was inevitable). Regardless of the perspective, Irene's emotions inevitably caused the death of Clare. Of course her emotions were those of anger and resentment, emotions which are the converse of Henry's.
In A Farewell to Arms, Henry's physical and emotional actions eventually cause Catherine's death. From a physical perspective, had Henry not deserted the army, it is entirely possible that Catherine would have had a safe delivery. I say that only because lots of stress and travel while pregnant can't be good for one's health or for the baby. Granted, that's not the strongest argument I could muster, but it works for now. Henry's emotional aspects contribute more greatly to Catherine's death. I deliberately left sex out of the physical aspect of my analysis only because for my purposes, the sex is merely a physical expression of an emotional need. Without the emotion (namely, lust), Catherine never would have gotten pregnant. Neither Henry nor Catherine probably wanted a baby at that point (having a baby in the middle of a war in a foreign country can't be too high on anyone's list). So, had Henry not impregnated her, she never would have died. Henry did eventually come to love Catherine (as opposed to lust after her), but his lust and his love led to Catherine's death all the same.
Catherine's death and Clare's death had a large impact on Henry and Irene respectively. At the end of Passing, everything becomes dark to Irene. At the end of A Farewell to Arms, Henry walks out into the rain. Both the dark and the rain obscure one's ability to see clearly. Ironically, both Henry and Irene see life more clearly than they did before the deaths.
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