Sunday, August 30, 2009

Greenwich Village Today

Greenwhich Village Street

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Saturday, August 29, 2009

Friday, August 28, 2009

A Post I wrote for Popmatters.com about HBO's "The Wire"

You Can Make This Stuff Up: The Do-It-Yourself Nature of HBO's "The Wire"

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What can google tell us about what people want?

type in "how to g" into google and look at the suggested searches that appear below

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Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Catcher in the Rye, A Separate Peace--A critical essay

Novels of Learning: a comparison of The Catcher in the Rye and A Separate Peace

It is not easy to simplify the reasons why a book tends to be studied a lot. Yet, if one were to streamline the reasons why The Catcher in the Rye is so often studied in the early years of high school, it would have to be because Holden is so easily recognizable. Readers intuitively know who Holden is and it therefore makes the analysis of the novel—which often involves a lot of questioning into Holden’s motives—that much more enjoyable. But when paired with another novel that has some striking similarities, that puts the notion of Genre into focus, one sees another reason why The Catcher in the Rye has such relevance to the high school age.
A Separate Peace too, is a widely studied novel, often studied at about the same grade level as The Catcher in the Rye. Both of these novels have male teenaged narrators, living on the east coast of the United States either during or immediately after WWII, attending prep schools. Both novels portray a world in which the youth are alienated from the adult world; and within the youth world of both novels, there is a distance, an inability to relate among the teenage characters. Very important elements of both novels (including the titles) are hinged on the notion of fictionalizing, or the creation of a fantasy. With all of these similarities, and many others not mentioned, the one striking difference is in the narrative style: that the narrator of A Separate Peace is reflective, grown up; Holden is, for the most part, still unaware of the true consequences of his actions and the meaning of his story. Again, it is not easy or even fair to boil the meaning for study of one novel, let alone two novels, down to a single reason, but if one needed to do so with these two novels it is that they are both stories of learning. That one narrator has learned his lesson, or lessons, while the other is still in the process of learning is beside the point. The focus of the Coming of Age for these two novels is on the learning that happens during that transitioning period.

That both novels begin in the setting of a school is the first notable aspect to the notion of learning. That they take place in prep-schools is even more meaningful. The concept of “prep,” as in “preparation” further focuses the notion of the transitioning period from adolescence to adulthood. Atwood, in “The Price of Deviance: Schoolhouse Gothic in Prep School Literature” conducts a thorough analysis of several Coming of Age Novels that have prep schools as settings. For his purposes, he argues that—what he calls the Schoolhouse Gothic’s main function is to create a tale of escape (Atwood, 109). While I will not thoroughly dispute Atwood’s argument here, I will take a slight tangent from his idea of escape. While the schools that both Holden and Gene attend are places that attempt to “prepare” young people for a certain kind of life, I propose that the novels are not so much an escape of that preparation, or of that life, but rather stories of un-preparation. This un-preparation takes its role in two main ways. Initially in a rebellious way, in which the characters intentionally try to undo the preparation that has been done to them. And, in another respect, there is the growing sense among the characters that they are unprepared for the world, and for what the world expects.
In A Separate Peace the intentional un-preparing, or un-raveling of lessons takes place in a few key scenes. The major one is that Gene intentionally harms his best friend Finny by causing him to fall off of a tree limb. This action goes against the notions of working together and collective effort, against the notions of honor that ultimately prepare a young adult to participate in the war effort. Additionally, the characters were out on the tree limb a year before they were supposed to be. They collectively felt that they needed preparation that wasn’t officially given to them yet.

In The Catcher in the Rye Holden has undone his preparing by failing out of several prep schools. His own sense of being unprepared for life surfaces in many ways: the fact that he doesn’t go directly home to confront his issues; that he cannot bring himself to call Jane. Symbolically, Holden’s concern for the whereabouts of the Central Park ducks can be viewed as a symbol for his own anxieties about preparation.

Part of this sense of un-preparation comes from the notion that in both novels the adult world is distinctly separate from the youth world. For Holden this is manifested in his constant reference to the “phonies” of the world. This is coupled with is exaltation of things youthful, from his sister Phoebe, to his brother Allie, to the random child on the street singing the “Comin’ Through the Rye” song. Holden’s main gripe with the adult world is that adults are insincere. His inability to accept acting, even while watching stage performances, is his rejection of the conformity of the adult world. Sincerity is Holden’s highest virtue, and it is for lack of this virtue that he dislikes the adult world. On the other hand there are plenty of things adult that Holden easily embraces, many of which fall under the heading of Vice, like smoking and drinking. That Holden is unable or unwilling to follow through with the prostitute reveals just how vulnerable Holden is to the whims of his decisions; I see it as his inability to participate in something that can harm another; smoking and drinking harm himself, and that’s alright with Holden. It is protection, the main focus of the title fantasy, that Holden is interested in. But as far as his own protection goes, Holden is aware at least somewhat that he no longer can be described as youth.

In A Separate Peace, the separation from the adult world has much to do with the adults treating this particular class differently than any other. The narrator tells us that it was the preparation for the war that gave the faculty at the Devon school a sense of guilt in relation to the students. Therefore, when the characters interact with the adults in this novel, this extra freedom that the faculty afford the students comes with a price of a reminder of their future. It is in the title scene, the Winter Carnival, where the characters are able to create a fantasy of escape. As the narrator puts it: “It wasn’t the cider which made me surpass myself, it was this liberation we had torn from the gray encroachments of 1943, the escape we had concocted, this afternoon of momentary, illusory, special and separate peace” (Knowles, 128).

That the characters are able to concoct such a scenario on the campus of the school, that they are able to do so much while unattended by adult supervision intones a world in which there really are no adults. For a novel set on a school campus, there are no scenes whatsoever in an actual classroom. The amount of text that involves any actual adult interaction probably does not exceed ten pages for the entire novel. This goes to the fact that the novel portrays a separate world that these characters live in. This separateness is highlighted by the title of the novel and by the fact that the title is the result of a fantasy, of a fictionalization.

Similarly, Holden’s fantasy to be the Catcher in the Rye (Salinger 173) depicts a fantasy world in which no adults exist. This fictionalization on the part of both novels can be seen as having two meanings. First, because they are coming of age novels, the fictionalizing can be viewed as a left-over trait of childhood. Or, the fictionalizing could be viewed as an assertion on the part of the author of the superior role that fictionalizing plays in our lives. In both novels it is not just the title that is highlighted by the fictionalization of the characters, it is also the method of coping with or coming to terms with the world.

Another issue of separateness worth considering in both of these novels is that the narrators are alienated from their own peer groups. Privitera suggests that Holden can’t relate to anyone his age because he thinks on too deep of a plane (Privitera, 203). I agree, and more specifically think that it is the fact that no one else his age realizes the insincerity of the adult world that Holden is intentionally distancing himself from his peers. Gene, on the other hand, has an identity issue that manifests itself as severe jealousy of his friend Finny. The adult narrator intones to us that this was a passing problem on his part, and not a permanent character flaw. The ultimate scene of distancing of Gene from his peers is during the trial scene in which his peers confront him about the fact that he made Finny fall from the tree. It is Gene’s severe action, manipulative and sinister in its nature, that separates him from his peers. For Gene it is that part of him that is completely not youthful that distances him from his peers. For Holden it is that part of him that wants to protect youth that distances him from his peers.

The connection between the separateness of the adult world and teenage world to the separateness within the teenage world can be understood in both novels by the role of the literary lion, which is a concept expanded on by Richard Salmon. In A Separate Peace this male figure is Finny, who is essentially a different character from his teenage self; in Catcher, it is Mr. Antolini. Salmon explains how Victorian novelists of the Bildungsroman, “are engaged in combating perceived transience or ephemerality in the experience of modern writing, which threatens to foreclose on the narrative process of bildung: the gradual, incremental time of literary apprenticeship” (Salmon, 43). In other words, the Bildungsroman novel is perceived by readers as being non-universal, just a fad. Authors of such novels are well aware of this and they combat it within the novel. one way that they do this is through the use of the literary lion, which “exemplifies this condition” (Salmon, 43). By exemplifying the condition, the literary lion takes on the condition of transience. Mr. Antolini was Holden’s favorite teacher, and an English teacher. His fame isn’t to the world, it is a fame in Holden’s world; a fame which quickly plunges when he pets Holden’s head. Finny, while not immediately literary in an obvious way, is so because of his verbal abilities. His transience of course happens twice: first with his fall from the tree and second with his death.

The final way in which the connection between the separateness of both worlds is embodied in the novels is with the concept of the carnivalesque. Takeuchi argues that the carnivalesque in Catcher subverts “fundamental binary oppositions, including self/other, body/mind, father/mother, heaven/hell, life/death, writer/reader” (Takeuchi, 321). To paraphrase, the carnivalesque, as defined by Takeuchi and other critics involves characteristics that are essential to an actual carnival: people freely interacting with one another; lack of social hierarchy; disguises and changes of clothing (Takeuchi, 320). Takeuchi expands on how these are embodied in Catcher. They appear many ways in A Separate Peace, most notably with the actual Winter Carnival which is the title scene of the novel. Another key component of their separate peace is that it is momentary (Knowles, 128). The binaries that are being subverted here are: together/separate; permanent/temporary; peace/war. Each of these binaries speaks again to the separateness of the adult world to the adolescent world. Similarly, in Catcher, Holden’s free-floating roaming around New York City serves to subvert all of the same binaries with the exception of Peace/War; I would say that it is the same binary, but it is an internal one for Holden, one of peace and war within himself.


Works Cited
Atwood, Thomas A., Lee, Wade M. "The Price of Deviance: Schoolhouse Gothic in Prep School Literature. " Children's Literature 35.(2007): 102-126,270-271.
Children's Module. ProQuest. ***http://www.proquest.com.library.esc.edu/***. 21 Apr. 2009

Knowles, John A Separate peace. New York: Bantam Books, 1975.
Privitera, Lisa. "Holden's Irony in Salinger's THE CATCHER IN THE RYE. "
The Explicator 66.4 (2008): 203-206. Research Library Core. ProQuest. ***http://www.proquest.com.library.esc.edu/***. 21 Apr. 2009

Salinger, J. D. Catcher in the rye. Boston: Little, Brown, 1991.
Salmon, Richard. . "The Genealogy of the Literary Bildungsroman: Edward Bulwer- Lytton and W.M. Thackeray. " Studies in the Novel 36.1 (2004): 41- 55. Humanities Module. ProQuest.

Takeuchi, Yasuhiro. . "The burning carousel and the carnivalesque: Subversion and transcendence at the close of the Catcher in the Rye. " Studies in the Novel 34.3 (2002): 320-336. Humanities Module. ProQuest.

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Thursday, August 20, 2009

Finding Ginsberg

After yesterday’s thoughts on Ginsberg’s poem, “My Sad Self,” I went to the Top of the Rock today in order to find Ginsberg. The part of “My Sad Self” that evades me is the sadness. I understand it technically; I understand how, technically, a person can be sad when thinking on the past and the disappearance of that past. I don’t understand how this poem is sad; profound yes, profound to the point that—if read well—can move me to tears, but sad, I don’t experience that.

I have a better appreciation for the line, “Confused by the spectacle around me,” as I too, felt a bit confused after returning to street level from so high up. But the main feeling I felt on the top of that building today was awe. I was excited to spot what I thought was Hunter College, an old haunt of mine. I felt a sense of newness, seeing so many of my places from a different point of view

It’s incredible how—upon returning to street-level—the plate-glass windows, with their merchandise behind them, seem so insufficient after looking at such a wonderful view.

Ginsberg says, “I take the elevator and go/ down, pondering,” I found that it wasn’t possible to ponder in that elevator, with its clear ceiling, special lighting and strange sounds. It was a Disneyfication experience. I was happy to see so many tourists up there, but disappointed not to see more New Yorkers. What kind of city would this be, if more of its citizens ventured to points of pontification? I think this sentiment was shared by Ginsberg too. He expresses a sense of disconnection from the people around him:

“and walk on the pavements staring into all man’s
plateglass, faces,
questioning after who loves,”

The faces, like the plate-glass windows, are things merely, and they are things that can be stared into; not real, not responsive. This correlates with the traffic that he hears behind him while lost in his thoughts. These sounds of cars with people in them, these people going places, flat, plate-glassed, one-dimensional people, are ornaments to the city-scape; it is as if they are pieces, in a child’s model of the city set, faceless people to scatter about, occasional car-horns to add a sense of realism.

Maybe the sadness could be in a re-consideration of the sense of awe, from “awe” to “awh” as in “awh darnit.” The view itself (from the top of the RCA building) could be a symbol for memory; a symbol that Ginsberg uses to show the ineffectiveness, or the incompleteness of memory.

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Finding Ginsberg Slideshow

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Tuesday, August 18, 2009

to be a New York Philosopher...

Though writing is the silent art and how I wish the writer had what the musician had, it is that silence that lets the words return to us, and take their turn, and turn our attention.

"My Sad Self"
by Ginsberg is an extraordinary work that I keep returning to. Each time I read it, each time I think about it, I am more amazed at how well he really understood New York City, and how well he understood the way locations connect to who we are.

I have not gotten to Ginsberg's level yet. I mean that I don't look out to the places I've lived through from just one location. Not that I wouldn't actually go to the RCA building, which is now known as the Top of the Rock. I actually revisit my old places, and I do this primarily because they aren't old to me yet.

One day I will find the place in the City from where I can see the entrance to the foodcourt in the Citicorp building, 8th street between 5th and 6th, random stores along Union Turnpike, The Sheep's Meadow, 68th and Lex, 58th and Amsterdam, Chambers Street, The Upper West Side, 135th Street and St. Nicholas Terrace, et al.

To love this city, or any city for that matter, is to love the memories of one's life, the pivotal moments in the movie of our minds that plays re-runs of episode upon episode; sometimes silent, or with music in the backdrop, and of which we are sometimes the star, sometimes the profound supporting player. To say, I love New York, is really to say, I love my life, a life that is connected to this place to the extent that I get chills when I pass certain places.

And maybe there isn't a place where I--or any one else--would be able to see all of my places. I think it's the knowledge of the relative location--knowing that it's just about over there, that is enough. It goes beyond speculation; it is in the acceptance of the proximity of point of view. You can't see everything at once. Actual distance, actual blockades of buildings, trees, new pedestrians, condominiums, inevitable, yet transient, resemble those intangible distances, called time and change.

To be a New Yorker is to make a declaration within oneself about time and place, habits of life. To be a New York Philosopher is to take contemplation to the street; to listen to questions and paths of thought the way some people listen to the music from their earbuds.

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Wednesday, August 12, 2009

No music should ever be background music

It occurred to me the other day--and I was haunted by this--that rock music could easily become someone's background music, the way people use classical or jazz as background music. No music should ever be background music, as no art should be selected simply for its mere coordination with the color of a couch.

It is so easy to get an album these days--download one from itunes--that the experience of absorption, of sitting down with a new record, or tape, or CD, for hours, reading the lyrics, looking at the artwork, that that experience is gone. It's wrong that that experience is gone, or is on the wane.
 

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