This one is just for me. Anybody else read this book on public transit? Because I found time oddly warping while reading this. I found I missed a good few stops on the Staten Island rail as well as a good half hour on the ferry. One minute we were leaving staten island the next we were in Manhatten. While reading it in other classes I thought I had been reading forever but it had only been ten minutes. It was as if the minutes were warped. They would expand and condense and I found myself getting lost in words.154
154 If any of you actually believe this you are all as crazy as Mr. Squeri and should seek counseling. -Ed.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
House
I picked this house because it is perfectly normal from the outside but holding something much deeper within. It is also secluded being the only house in view, as Navidson says on pg 8 "I bought a small house in the country." It also has a porch where Navidson would drink his lemonade. The only reason I really picked it was because it looks so normal here it really could conceal a horrible history. Like the Amityville horror or some other terrible murder.
Video
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKCSGQVFhek
I like this video because it puts a picture to the state of Zampano's apartment when Johnny and Lude first find the journal. I also like the shots of the hallways and how it previews the tension between Navidson and Karen. I also like anything involving Milla Jovovich. However there is a lot of meaningless space in here proving that just as in some of the footnotes, most of it may be worthless but there may be something in there worth reading. And I do not appreciate the shameful ripping off of Resident Evil footage. For shame youtubers!
I like this video because it puts a picture to the state of Zampano's apartment when Johnny and Lude first find the journal. I also like the shots of the hallways and how it previews the tension between Navidson and Karen. I also like anything involving Milla Jovovich. However there is a lot of meaningless space in here proving that just as in some of the footnotes, most of it may be worthless but there may be something in there worth reading. And I do not appreciate the shameful ripping off of Resident Evil footage. For shame youtubers!
Character Sketch
My first passage comes from pg. 37. "He (Reston) is a gruff man, frequently caustic and more like a drill sergeant than a tenured professor." He is a paraplegic as well. Navidson and Reston met in India and he took a picture of Reston running from an electrical wire. Here then is our first glimpse of Reston and it is a fair one. He first sends the brothers Navidson to the house armed with a laser leveler. Which of course doesn't work. Then he shows up himself. Instead of allowing himself to be carried into the house, this proud man says "That won't be necessary." And makes it onto the second floor of the house by his arm strength alone. (pg. 55) In fact, we see a bit of a sense of humor about his impediment as well. When Tom says "Too bad you forgot your chair," Reston laughs and says "Well, and fuck you." We see a gruff and serious man, but with a sense of humor and a calm acceptance of his lot in life. This is not the last time we see a softer side of Reston. SPOILERS!!! If you haven't read to 321 DO NOT CONTINUE!!! After Navidson is lost during the shift at the spiral staircase Reston remains at the radios trying to get in touch with Nav even after 5 days. (Pg. 321) He even communicates his hope. When Tom says That Navy's been gone over four days Reston says "There's still a chance."
So we have a gruff character who takes no nonsense but still can have a sense of humor over the bad hand that life dealt him, as well as a sincere devotion to his friends and willing to grab at a shred of hope, even if it's as faint as the light of a flashbulb in the deep darkness of the House.
So we have a gruff character who takes no nonsense but still can have a sense of humor over the bad hand that life dealt him, as well as a sincere devotion to his friends and willing to grab at a shred of hope, even if it's as faint as the light of a flashbulb in the deep darkness of the House.
When a House is not a House
I think the house is a metaphor for our psyche. We have the side of ourselves we present to the outside world. It is respectable, it looks reconizable for what it is because we strive to be like everyone else with a few differences on the outside. We have windows to the interior but even then in front of the windows we arrange things with the skill of a master landscaper. However through the door, and in the rooms that you can't see, something much darker may lurk.
Our long hallways can be our flaws. They may condense sometimes and be nothing more than momentary shifts into darkness. Anger can be a small blowup inside our own head, or a murderous rage from which nothing (no one) is safe. We all have minor insecurities and deeper damage that we hide in darkness impenetrable so no one else may see it.
Finally we come to our markers. Some of us blessed with self-knowledge know where we are deficient. So we place markers so we can understand where the darkness makes a habit of getting the best of us. However at times our markers become mangled and our flaws swallow what used to mark them and we succumb to our darkness. Still other times greater flaws lurk in the darkness ones which we do not know about and therefore fail to mark. The ever present growl of worse things than darkness and cold.
Our long hallways can be our flaws. They may condense sometimes and be nothing more than momentary shifts into darkness. Anger can be a small blowup inside our own head, or a murderous rage from which nothing (no one) is safe. We all have minor insecurities and deeper damage that we hide in darkness impenetrable so no one else may see it.
Finally we come to our markers. Some of us blessed with self-knowledge know where we are deficient. So we place markers so we can understand where the darkness makes a habit of getting the best of us. However at times our markers become mangled and our flaws swallow what used to mark them and we succumb to our darkness. Still other times greater flaws lurk in the darkness ones which we do not know about and therefore fail to mark. The ever present growl of worse things than darkness and cold.
SKIP IT
While reading this book Jaime did not skip much. He did, however, skip the footnotes that just seemed to rattle off names and titles and lists of things that one would find in any normal house. He figured that these didn't have much to do with either story and therefore while cursorily looking at the words he allowed his mind to freely wander into whatever fantasy crossed his mind.
He enjoyed reading this book alot. He found himself taking it everywhere. He read it at work during lunch. He read it during other classes (sorry to Dr. Hurst, Prof. Valcin, and Dr. Boyenne)He even took it with him on a few porcelain cruises. He enjoyed the twisting and turning the words forced him into. He relished the chance to confront some of his own darkness in thinking about the unfathombably night of the book.
The one thing he did not enjoy, however, was the book's propensity to inflict Truant-like symptoms on those who read it. He found himself creeped by sounds in his basement that he's heard for years. The warming of pipes took on a definate growling tone, the darkness seemed less friendly and even on a layout he's known for years once he found himself lost until he stubbed his toe on a doorframe. In Truant's words "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK." He also noticed that while reading this book on public transportation time seemed to shift. Seconds elongated into minutes and minutes condensed to seconds and he missed stops on the train as the yawning darkness ate moments like morsels. As off-putting as that was he still enjoyed reading this book. He looks forward to the end eagerly peering into the darkness of the unknown.
He enjoyed reading this book alot. He found himself taking it everywhere. He read it at work during lunch. He read it during other classes (sorry to Dr. Hurst, Prof. Valcin, and Dr. Boyenne)He even took it with him on a few porcelain cruises. He enjoyed the twisting and turning the words forced him into. He relished the chance to confront some of his own darkness in thinking about the unfathombably night of the book.
The one thing he did not enjoy, however, was the book's propensity to inflict Truant-like symptoms on those who read it. He found himself creeped by sounds in his basement that he's heard for years. The warming of pipes took on a definate growling tone, the darkness seemed less friendly and even on a layout he's known for years once he found himself lost until he stubbed his toe on a doorframe. In Truant's words "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK." He also noticed that while reading this book on public transportation time seemed to shift. Seconds elongated into minutes and minutes condensed to seconds and he missed stops on the train as the yawning darkness ate moments like morsels. As off-putting as that was he still enjoyed reading this book. He looks forward to the end eagerly peering into the darkness of the unknown.
Finding my way out again
I am forced to conclude that everything in this book is specifically and purposefully designed to create hopelessness (read: empty of all hope.) It creates a path so convoluted that you are lost in a maze of words, ideas, and images so dark that you are swallowed by it. And when it shifts to show you a shred of light, it shifts again to steal that light (meaning) away from you again. In short, this is no light (oh the puns) bedtime reading.
So the theme of this blog: What's the last word for this half of House of Leaves? In all the references to darkness (emptiness) in both The Navidson Record and Johnny Truant's infinitely more lyrical (entertaining) footnote stories we find two men trying to balance the darkness without (the house, Navidson and Karen's dwindling relationship, Truant's one night stands and drug experiences) with the darkness within (Navidson's complete obsession with fame and danger i.e. the House within the house, and Truant's need for one night stands and drug use.) Both men skate around the real and instead confront puzzles with no answers. If there are answers they must come from the darkness within both men. I think the most moving part of this book is when Zampano writes about standing outside or inside the labyrinth. Do we understand the maze? Or are we feeling our way blindly through it? I think both men are completely unnerved by their shift in perspective. One minute they comprehend and the next they question.
So the theme of this blog: What's the last word for this half of House of Leaves? In all the references to darkness (emptiness) in both The Navidson Record and Johnny Truant's infinitely more lyrical (entertaining) footnote stories we find two men trying to balance the darkness without (the house, Navidson and Karen's dwindling relationship, Truant's one night stands and drug experiences) with the darkness within (Navidson's complete obsession with fame and danger i.e. the House within the house, and Truant's need for one night stands and drug use.) Both men skate around the real and instead confront puzzles with no answers. If there are answers they must come from the darkness within both men. I think the most moving part of this book is when Zampano writes about standing outside or inside the labyrinth. Do we understand the maze? Or are we feeling our way blindly through it? I think both men are completely unnerved by their shift in perspective. One minute they comprehend and the next they question.
Lost in the Labyrinth
Let's get the obvious out of the way first; this book is a labyrinth. It has us twisting and turning and in the opening tells us that what we see is not, cannot be real. Formed in words of black ink, our own minute, unfathomable darknesses. We find metaphors of darkness (read: emptiness) everywhere. What it comes down to is, I can't read this book for more than an hour and a half without my head pounding at me to stop.
and for
The weird part is now I'm imagining noises in my basement when the lights are off. So, the nature of the labyrinth is complex; is the labyrinth internal (our own psyche) or external (vis a vis the book, the house, the made up movie and sources etc.)? What's more, even if it is internal are we standing outside it (because we know why we act the way we do) and therefore understand our maze? Or inside it (because even we,at the best of times, don't understand all of why we do what we do) hence we don't know where we're going? (Read: headache)
and for
The weird part is now I'm imagining noises in my basement when the lights are off. So, the nature of the labyrinth is complex; is the labyrinth internal (our own psyche) or external (vis a vis the book, the house, the made up movie and sources etc.)? What's more, even if it is internal are we standing outside it (because we know why we act the way we do) and therefore understand our maze? Or inside it (because even we,at the best of times, don't understand all of why we do what we do) hence we don't know where we're going? (Read: headache)
Bomb(ed)ing
I will never look at graffiti the same way again. After learning about the history of Cornbread I find myself wondering about who C-loc, Lady86, Sam, and Terra are. I have this lovely alley way behind the local Stop and Shop and it's a veritable mural of names and I want to find out about these people. I wonder about their stories. Why are they doing this? If they're doing it for someone, who are they doing it for? Is their purpose noble or is it nothing but the most basic arrogance? Does putting your name on something make it yours? If it does, I'm going to get me a Ferrari REAL quick.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Overall Impressions
When trying to describe this play to some of my friends not in our esteemed lit class they asked me to describe the plot in five words or less. Though difficult, I managed to get it done: Murdering little children. What happened? After the look of shock on their faces (which was both amusing and gratifying) I told them that they all have to run out to buy and read this play.
And I meant it. This is a fantastically interesting and quirky play, a Little Green Pig in and of itself. I enjoyed it thoroughly. It's easy to see that certain forms of censorship taken by our government are played out to dangerous extremes in this play as well as a serious look at the responsibility of authors in producing their work.
The responsibility issue comes up often in the 21st century with regard to video games. Every time a new GTA is released, senators and governmental figures clambor to have Rockstar Games offices closed. Although I see the arguement that enacting violent behavior may lead one to enact it in real life (a la Mikhail) I don't see much substantiation for it. However, I do see the author/programmer/artist/filmmaker etc. sharing some of the blame. I think they must also share that blame with the environment of the person acting it out. For the majority of responsibility for a what a person does, or believes, or acts upon, is the society and background of what they grew up with. The creative things we see may give us ideas, but it is up to us whether we act on it or not.
And I meant it. This is a fantastically interesting and quirky play, a Little Green Pig in and of itself. I enjoyed it thoroughly. It's easy to see that certain forms of censorship taken by our government are played out to dangerous extremes in this play as well as a serious look at the responsibility of authors in producing their work.
The responsibility issue comes up often in the 21st century with regard to video games. Every time a new GTA is released, senators and governmental figures clambor to have Rockstar Games offices closed. Although I see the arguement that enacting violent behavior may lead one to enact it in real life (a la Mikhail) I don't see much substantiation for it. However, I do see the author/programmer/artist/filmmaker etc. sharing some of the blame. I think they must also share that blame with the environment of the person acting it out. For the majority of responsibility for a what a person does, or believes, or acts upon, is the society and background of what they grew up with. The creative things we see may give us ideas, but it is up to us whether we act on it or not.
Little Green Pig
My favorite story in The Pillowman is The Little Green Pig. Parallels between this story and book burnings in Alaska came to mind. I like this story because it reminds us that those who are truly different will always be different; this, in turn, reminds me that we don't change unless we truly wish too. We can be painted over, we can be covered, we can even be silenced for a time, but eventually we will come forth. As quirky, and different as ever. This story is fantastic allegory and I love that in a story full of death, this little bit of novelty comes through.
P.S. Read that Time article in my Alaska link. Especially the bits about dear old mom...Hehehe when family doesn't support you it's a sad day indeed.
P.S. Read that Time article in my Alaska link. Especially the bits about dear old mom...Hehehe when family doesn't support you it's a sad day indeed.
Monday, November 3, 2008
A Story To Remember the Dead
A Eulogy is defined as a speech or writing in praise of a person or thing, especially a set oration in honor of a deceased person. The very best eulogies often contain stories about the dead. In this way we tell their stories to keep them alive inside of us through our memories of them. In The Pillowman I have difficulty coming to terms with Katurians final story. In thinking about Eulogies, I find perhaps a meaning in his final story. Could his last tale be his attempt to eulogize himself? Could his last story be his last attempt to be remembered before his stories are locked away?
Is this McDonagh attempt to tell us that we are all authors? Authors of our lives and our own stories. Every time we relate something of ourselves to someone else we are giving a narrative. And in changing the way that Katurian views his death is he reminding us that we can change our own story? This play brought a lot of questions and some of them I just can't answer.
P.S. Tomorrow PAH-LEEZE get out and vote.
Is this McDonagh attempt to tell us that we are all authors? Authors of our lives and our own stories. Every time we relate something of ourselves to someone else we are giving a narrative. And in changing the way that Katurian views his death is he reminding us that we can change our own story? This play brought a lot of questions and some of them I just can't answer.
P.S. Tomorrow PAH-LEEZE get out and vote.
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