Pet Milk

I love this story. Dybek manages to take the smallest details and illustrate just how personal they are to the narrator. This story is like a quick glimpse into the narrator's life, the meaningful details of his memories, those of his grandmother and girlfriend Kate, the Pet milk and the similarly meaningful cream in the King Alphonse drink- seeing the same 'swirling sky' in two significant worlds within his life. The narrator takes us from the image of cream and coffee on Grandmother's table to a standstill moment with his lover, and he is mesmerized by these moments of deepening; her reflection in the window is beautiful and he longs for her, accepting the reality that she might not always be his, and in fact she isn't- as long as he is an admirer of her existence, an infatuated man. The narrator is humble in presenting Kate as someone he is with in the present, but already missing from his life- illustrating his longing for her as he knows she will soon be a part of his past, a beautiful memory like the Pet milk in his instant coffee, and again in the King Alphonse drink they shared so many times together.
I think what is profound about this piece is the way the author ties everything together, creating a small window into a much bigger picture. This short story is written like a web, or a mind map, details and events stemming from one another but fitting perfectly in one whole picture. One detail is not significant with out the next.

On Lightness

On lightness takes an interesting philosophic approach to themes within writing, extolling the virtue of ‘lightness’. I found his argument interesting, but, rather like the quality she was describing, ephemeral. The world around Italo Cavoli seems heavy and stone like because it is heavy and stone like. Light things do not last. The morning dew is quickly dissolved by the sun, the delicate spider’s web trampled by a passing horse, and the wisp of smoke dissolved by the wind. Much as beauty is often the most difficult to attain attribute (which is to say that that the attributes considered most beautiful are those most difficult to obtain or have), it could be this very attribute which makes lightness so attractive. In a way, Lightness, or perhaps even the desire for lightness, can take on even more meaning. It can represent the escapist desire within literature. Only in the purely abstract world of writing can something as delicate as lightness last on forever and the desire to escape the heavy reality of the world is what drives us to leap into books, and live in the realm where lightness is possible.

Week 6 Assignments

Writing Assignment

Choose One:

1) Write a conversation between two liars. Give everything they say a double or triple meaning. Never state or indicate through outside description that these two people are lying. Let the reader figure it out strictly from the dialog. Try not to be obvious, such as having one person accuse the other of lying.

2) Write two poems or monologues in which two characters see the same situation from very different points of view. Let the characters speak. Experiment with voice, tone, and characterization. Format the two so that they go on simultaneously as in Double Trouble (page 186 in the course reader).

3) This week, listen in on the conversations you hear around you – on the bus, in a café, between your housemates. At some point during the week, settle someplace where there is lot’s of conversation going on. Eavesdrop on those around you and transcribe as much as possible of what you hear. Write a story, poem, or scene using the dialogue you “collected.”

Read for Next Week
Lightness, Italo Calvino from Six Memos for the Next Millennium
The Bucket Rider, Franz Kafka
Pet Milk, Stuart Dybek
The Colonel, Carolyn Forche
Net, Geetha Reddy (Passed out in class)

Blog
1. Post an entry about any one of the readings this week. This may be a critical or creative piece of about 200-300 words This may be a critical or creative piece of about 200-300 words and must follow the blog response guidelines. It MUST respond to your chosen reading in some way, either by identifying and discussing craft elements, themes, or techniques or by using those elements in a creative response.

2. Post comments on at least three other entries. Remember, this is not a place for critiquing each other’s work. Instead, identify something from the piece that strikes or interests you, ask a neutral question about the work, or suggest ways the author could deepen or expand it.

A Gentleman's Agreement

This piece uses child’s imagery in away that is both obtuse and highly descriptive.

“To arc and trajectory add the lessons of apogee and descent, the rock descending into a broken glass poke in the eye for the friendly family car,”

A broken glass poke in the eye, it evokes the non-linear connections in a child’s mind, the association of one thing with another that we, as adults, for whom the order of the world is already is set, would consider unreasonable. This blends with the flowing, unending sentences that jump from one thought to another:

“And in the tin-roofed shed the child saw where the goat should have been parked - the goat, the big, yellow fire bike, the marlbe-size knobs on the tire treads, the homemade steel-mesh cages the old man had welded around the chain and the spokes against brush and branches, his father riding the Goat’s back in wild reconnaissance of the fire’s forward lines, and on sundays when the world was not on fire the old man and his disciples drank beer in the backyard and rode the Goat down the washed out driveway fast enough to leap the gully, doing drunken doughnuts and wheelies in the cornfield until somebody’s wife went home mad or until somebody broke his arm and though it was funny.”

This is a hundred and twenty word sentence, and it flows through the information in unending flood, the bike, a description of the bike, its association with his father, his father drinking beer, on and on and on, unfetted by any responsibilities other then to tell what the child wants to tell.

Every Exit is an Entrance

This piece, although lacking greatly in a creative tone, was extremely insightful and definitely caught my interest. The idea of dreams is one that is often played with in literary works, which is evident through Anne Carson's analysis. This essay breaks apart the odd sensation we come across while dreaming and compares it to other interpretations or themes of dreams that authors have used in the past. I especially appreciated the inserts from Virginia Wolfe's To the Lighthouse, seeing as it is a book that I had read in the past. It is interesting to see how authors play with the use of dream, especially authors like Wolfe who tend to work with a stream-of-consciousness style of narration. All in all, I found this essay extremely enjoyable as it revolved around a topic that I hold in great interest.

Ode to Pricey Shoes

Could she ever live without them?
Without black satin four inch Louboutin pumps-without pumps.
Without the glitter, the bows, and the scent
so intoxicating
to her shoe-needing spirit
only to hold one and smell
its soothing spell-which could mend it all
if you have enough
money! Money
will get her all the Louboutins Christian can make in his lifetime-
but she first needs a man.
A man to watch her undress as she keeps on
a pair of pink suede peep-toes
that arch her back
"You look priceless," he'll tell her, "Those shoes
were made for you."
Yes, one day. But for now,
It's the Christian love affair.

gentlemen's agreement

“Gentlemen’s Agreement” by Mark Richard is a light hearted yet incredibly disturbing take on a unique father and son relationship. The story seems to weave between childhood fantasy and the brutal art of consequence and reality. I thought the author was clever in that the story begins with a boy being scolded by his father for throwing a stone at someone’s windshield. Such a common predicament that happens among so many children gave the story an innocent tone. This was a perfect set up for the quite gruesome ending of the story. Much of the imagery described in this piece made me recall moments from my own childhood such as imaginary settings, treating ordinary objects as people, and even being scolded for throwing harmful objects. The author uses reputation throughout the piece, a technique that gave the young boy a lot of character. For instance, when discussing the aftermath of the boy’s stone throwing the words “God Dammit” are repeated. It is written in such a subtle manner, giving the idea that it is a phrase embedded into the young boy’s head. He scolds himself the way his parents would. “White” is also a word commonly used in the piece, which suggests clarity and absence all at one. I thought the tone gave a dark humor to the story, which was easy to enjoy.

Gentleman's Agreement

Richard’s writes long sentences that are very effective. They keep the rhythm. I think if he’d chosen to use more periods a lot of the imagery would be lost. It would also probably be harder to read all the way through.

I also thought it was good and interesting the way that Richard’s left out most dialogue. The characters speak a few times but there aren’t quotation marks. It is driven by the narration.

There is an abundance of imagery found in the long sentences. I particularly like the descriptions of the father. The “smoke smelling pants” and all the “goddamn its” and the description of the father crawling into a cave with a bear make a clear image of a rough and tumble, blue collar father. I also really like the description he provides of the doctor in one terribly long sentence, which is again, rich with imagery. From the first four words we know he’s a pilot. “Flawless liftoffs from Florida tarmac.” This is almost poetic with the iambic pentameter and “Flawless and Florida” go well together. Then we get “warm pulpy orange juice,” which is a fantastic image for me. I can almost taste it as I read it.

Response to Dream Song 14

Customers, people, are stupid. While you are
one of them, you must
agree. When the kitchen buzz quiets with
Ajax-laced abruptness, we too
quiet, and no longer wish to see
you. My mother says "a job

is a job." Thanks Ma. But she's right.
Waitress. That is a job.
A job where people
with rose-pinned noses see me
and think

I am the stupid one. And these
people with their ugly children and shocking
etiquette overstay
and eat
and booze
leaving behind: their ugly child.
Please, take him.

"Dream Song 14" by John Berryman

This will be a critical response to John Berryman's Poem.

This is a unique poem thats subtle organization lends to the writers tone of overall dissatisfaction with his life. More so, the speaker of the poem rejects the flashy way of life that has become a natural way of living for the majority of the population and instead chooses to alienate himself from society by pointing out all of its shortcomings. The person that is most representative of this way of thinking is the speakers mother, who says that her son "has no inner resources." The poet seems to find life boring, with that fact even spreading over to his environmental surroundings such as the "tranquil hills. Another aspect of this poem that caught my eye was the rhyme scheme. The poem is composed of three stanzas and uses alternating alternating long and short lines in the pattern: A, A, B, A, A, B. By creating the sonnet in such a short amount of space, Berryman really grabs for the emotional intensity of the subject with his cutting verbs and sharp adjectives. In many ways, this poem is Berryman's opinion on those who live an overexamined life, and is a telling piece of work that makes sense of his suicide.

My Ode

I adapted the structure (loosely) of Carson's "Ode to Sleep" to write a poem about a band. Played with Antlers lyrics in places, in others I was just trying to put into words what listening to them feels like. Their lyrics often involve hospitals, death, etc, so this is what I came up with:

Ode to Antlers

With the door closed, shades drawn, you're dead enough.
The ghosts gather at the foot of your misshapen bed-a hospital bed.
"There's no saving you," the doctors had said and they called you
a hurricane thundercloud
there are no patients, no visitors
just ghastly illusions rolling in with the fog
which-whispering in your ear-will comfort you
if you can drown out the sound
beep. Beep,
the morphine alarm's out of tune, snowy television set out of focus-
but what does it feel like in the mortuary?
Your tears are running hot.
Blood is running icy.
You remember being small and swinging from a tree branch
it snapped and you were falling.
Hundreds of thousands of hospital beds
and all of them empty but yours.

Creative Response to Gentleman's Agreement

The Woman's Promise

The woman now gray and somewhat unlined despite the years looked at the young girl's face and smiled a melancholy smile. The young girl tried not to dawdle behind others and always looked forward. The older woman said to the younger woman you are so lucky to have your youth, the time you spend today you will never get back. The young girl paid little attention to what was being said. She noticed the weather being cold and overcast. She looked around herself apprehensively swallowing the anxiety that seemed to come with every negative criticism that was thrown her way. It felt like her situation in life reduced to quivering mass of nerves and dull pain. She could only remember it being one day in the week that she truly felt at peace. She didn't ask for much. It seemed her predicament loomed way above in her thoughts. How could she solve her crisis when there was no easy answer. How could she spend everyday knowing the answer will never come. The older woman, wise beyond her years, says to the young girl be happy don't worry about things that can't be helped, but the young girl says I know some things can not be helped but I can't help feeling this is not how I want my life to be. I was fine until this started happening to me, if only I can go back in time, but going back in time is impossible she realized. Everyday I am surrounded by misery, I am forever plagued. The older woman replied don't lose hope, someday the answer will come and you will find piece. The young girl realized at that moment that she will not give up. She will have faith in hope.

Ode to Feet

This is a creative response to "Ode to Sleep"

Ode to Feet

Stink of your life, without them

Without the patter punctuating the pavement—without the pavement.

Without the big black toe nail above the boil that popped on your

yellow sandals.

The pain snakes up your legs, your arms

and forms unspeakable sounds

which—you weep with instant abandon—will save you

in the crux of excruciating things,

later. Later,

not much left but an attended wound between pink flesh and nail—

you’ve dabbed that ointment on your leather petals,

it’s the moment when the burning stopped.

Burning is a broken lover

who brings damnation.

“After all that,” she confides in her coffee, “it was

a little bit of caught sand I mistook for a boil.

My foot hurt me, I now know

while making a pearl inside my big toe.

"Ode to sleep" imitation of sorts

You can run towards her as fast as you want,

the spirit of nightly release,

but she's a master of evasion

and your fingers won't even come close

to the tail end of her wraith-like hair.

The trick is to try and stay awake.

Pay no attention to your half-ton eyelids

or random thoughts fired from tired

nerve endings in your brain.

Just fix your eyes to the darkened ceiling,

get comfortable

and rest assured she'll find you.

Her hands collect random ideas, fears and memories,

mashing them together into a muddled mess of a play,

the greatest play you'll ever witness

and the greatest play you'll ever forget.

Who's to say our dreams aren't reality?

That we're stuck in a world

were the impossible is possible,

and upon nightfall

we dream of normalcy.

The Dream Song-14 Rendition

I enjoyed this poem by Berryman but I'm not exactly sure where the hell I took it.

My life, friends, is decent. Please don’t say - “no”.

For this I know, I’m only 20, but only ordinary

unlike those who touch something more

please don’t tell me - “I’ll figure it out”

that - “it takes time”

and that - “some of the greats had no real ‘plan’”

Plans make me feel productive. But I’m not

I just whine to those who are forced to read

You hate this, I hate this,

He, she, it, hates this

and by this I mean my poem

But I do like my socks

and some of my friends, who seem not to mind me

walking in the sun, rare, but not unheard of, keeps me better than bad,

than okay. I like what I have. And right now

it’s paper and ink and a silly grin.

"Ode To Sleep" response

I enjoyed reading "every enterance is an exit" and "ode to sleep" by Anne Carson because I myself am a huge fan of sleeping, and here is my Ode To Sleep

Its never a place I desire to descend upon.

A day's discontent never seems to give up hope that it will turn itself around- but as for now
there must be a time for silence eventually.
How is it that
There are sections of time where millions of bodies lay
like motionless corpses entertained only by the subconscious mind?
catching dreams in a net of hair-
I like the why she wraps herself around memories.
She sends a whisper of relief
inaudible, but recognizable
Like the silence between a heartbeat, an experience skipped
When is the instant when the sky begins to brighten?

Mark Richard-Gentleman's agreement.

I found this story very enjoyable and interesting to read. First of all, as others have said, Richard does an excellent job with creating the characters. The child has a very distinct voice in which the reader can detect his naivete as well as his genuine love and respect for his father. The random spots of alliteration also work well to give the child a very young, school yard sound. For example on page 164 Richard writes: “Time slowed for them, the rock arcing towards the friendly family car parked pleasantly in the pecan tree shade.” This sentence, as well as others, do a good job of not only making the story more believable, but also in taking a story told in the third person and making it sound somewhat like first person. In addition to the character work, I found the ending of the story quite enjoyable. I was so jaded from reading stories like Papa's Waltz that the narrator had actually convinced me that he was going to drive a nail through the boys hand. This of course did not happen and instead the ending was a somewhat happy one where all was not resolved but the father, despite his gruff descriptions, was just as kind and loving as any.

The Dream Songs - Again

This is my take on The Dream Songs by John Berryman. I chose to mix up the content of his while, hopefully trying to capture the essential contextual feel he has created.

E-Magic-E

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am excited by both. There
company fills the sky with pleasure. There is no object
which is in this great, tidy, emancipating world, which
tires me. My life is grand and beautiful. Sentimental moment
after sentimental moment. My father expressed his vigilance
on the matter. "Enthusiasm is for people who have a lack of
creativity". I applaud his meager attitude for it has made

me stronger. Strength is what protects the world, fights the
wars that so one should. Blood running down an abandoned
river glides upon a slick rock. Cracking a fresh wound to the
exposed sun. Like a child

being born, sprouting out its head in a sea of blood. Forging an
eternal bond with mother and Earth. Mother Earth. Forces
encompass the path which many are denied. Love is a much
grander endeavor, beinging joy, respect, alertness. Unyielding
to the scrutiny of a village idiot. Bored people suck the utter

essence of charisma out of the world. Living for no purpose but
to deny the healthy and happy, magic and joy. I find the joy of life,
miracle of life, pro-life, the most genuine feeling in the world. I love
my mother and father for what they have inspired in me.

Jason Yelland

For Esme

For Esme- with Love and Squalor, is, at its heart, a love story between two characters. It's a love story not about romance but about the need for human connection between two lonely people. It places childhood as something innocent and pure but still insightful while portraying the adult world as something tainted. This is a theme popular with Salinger and, in this short story, it is exemplified by the relationship between a young girl and a soldier. The first half of the story is spoken in first person by the soldier and recounts his meeting with the girl. In this first half we get a sense of isolation that narrator lives in as him as his fellow solders typically just go their own way. He engages in a conversation (something he hasn't done in days) with a girl, named Esme, where it is decided that they will write to each other and that he will write a story to her that is "extremely squalid and moving." Her use of high level diction expresses that, although she is a child, she is as insightful as any adult. She then tells him to return with his faculties intact, something that comes up in the end again. The next half of the story is what the narrator refers to as the squalid and moving part and stops using first person narration in favor of third. The squalid comes in the fore of the central character now becomes Sergeant X, whom we can tell has been deeply affected by the war by his inability to read books, his smoking habits, his description of war as being unable to love, his twitching hands and face, his inability to sleep, and more importantly his nervous breakdown. This clearly depicts the dehumanizing effects the adult world can have on a person. However, X's humanity is saved at the end when he reads the letter from Esme and receives her father's wrist watch. It is here that Salinger again switches to first person, signaling that X and the previous narrator are the same person in fact, although by now one has already probably figured that out. Before the narrator referred to himself as X, illustrating the alienation he had from himself admist the destruction around him and the deterioration of his mental state. However, the letter from Esme warms him up and he is able to reassert his own identity. This life-affriming relationship the two have and the love that it exudes amidst the darkness that surrounds the narrator is further supported by the fact that he is finally able to sleep after reading the letter and speaks of recovering his faculties. Thus, he is able to keep his humanity by forming a human connection with a girl who, in her youth, is his only tie to that world of innocence and purity that he as lost in the adult world.

Character Description/Gentleman's Agreement

Mark Richard has an incredible way of creating a loaded character description, without stopping to take a breath- I read the following passage and was inspired by the intense tonality that would not pause for a moment- in hopes to truly illustrate the intensity of this character.

"His father in his dirty, roughened-up denim, of all days to come home, mud and ash, machete on the hip and the snake pistol, timber boots laced with wire that wouldn't burn, the blackened shanks of ankles, the boot soles cracked by heat and desperate shoveling, his father footprinting crazy mazes of topography across the clean wooden floors."

My imitation of this tonality/style:

"Her sister in her visionary, transparent white blouse, of all the days to come home, powdered and porcelain, skinny belt hugging her waist, mini skirt lined with lace that cannot rise, the perfectly shaped face, shining from the reflection of her sweet summer sweat, her sister floats by me, leaving patterns of seductive scents all over my body."

Ok, so I took a shot at this...and it was hard! Not exactly on, but I am liking this approach - a sort of run on character description that brings the intensity with the notion of no periods. I am focusing on character development right now in my personal writing, and I enjoyed Richard's piece in that his style truly emphasizes this.