Ham, Rye: "Ham on Rye"

Unfortunately for me and the people with whom I interacted with last week, thanks to Bukowski I felt suicidal and depressed for most of the 9 or 10 days finishing the novel, consequently suffering from post-traumatic syndrome afterwards due the gloomy and grotesque narrative of this monster.

The plot is basically refers to a “pseudo-autobiography” of the author, embodied throughout the life of Henri Chinaski (note his real name is Henri Charles Bukowski, so figure it out.). The tone is somewhere between gloomy and disdainful, considering the sentence structures and word choosing are crude and omnipresent with hatred and repulsion. The sequence of events cover his early childhood until his early adulthood, and is written in first person narrative, aiding the personal tone of the piece overall.

Although post-Great War, and pre-WWII  America is a definite background veil in the story, 1930-1940’s L.A becomes the most prominent setting in the story overall, establishing the entire ambiance of the novel in an universal sense, to the point of representing a continuous metaphor for the narrator.

I would resume the novel as: “life in its bare reality”, since Bukowski tends to reduce his narration to that point, adding some nihilism and vomit-like features to that narrative stage, next to an intermittent space of nothing. Reduced literary devices are employed in the novel, mainly due the nature of the narration, as explained previously. However, due the informality of the piece, many descriptions and conversations are attached to simple oxymorons and allegories: “She had her skirt pulled specially high, it was terrifying, beautiful, wondrous and dirty. Such legs, such thighs, we were very close to the magic” (p. 104).

When referring to literary elements in the piece, there is an overuse in imagery, present and employed throughout the whole novel: “I saw her huge white upper flanks, rivers of flesh. There was a large protruding wart on the inside of her left thigh. And there was a jungle of tangled hair between her legs, but it was not bright yellow like the hair on her head, it was brown and shot with grey, old like some sick bush dying, lifeless and sad” (p. 191). Additionally, as a constant in the novel, Chinanski himself transcends or better yet, “relates metaphysically" to the dramatic, tragic and comic irony in the novel, acquiring himself the condition of being extremely ironical and cynical at the same time:

“...lifeless and sad.

I stood up.

I’ve got to go, Mrs. Hatcher.

...to think, somebody had suicided for that.

The night suddenly looked good. I walked along toward my parents’ house” (p.191).

The situation overall can establish Chinaski as a character: a continuous juxtaposition of irony and cynicism, the situation with his friends mother reflects his sensibility (dramatic irony) hidden by a shell of sarcasm.

Long story short, I accept feeling certain connection with Chinaski for being (and living) the classic archetype of the teenage years, most of it being trashy and disdainful off course, but above of everything standing as torn and real as possible.

These are the 100 most beautiful words in the English language, apparently.

Ailurophile A cat-lover.
Assemblage A gathering.
Becoming Attractive.
Beleaguer To exhaust with attacks.
Brood To think alone.
Bucolic In a lovely rural setting.
Bungalow A small, cozy cottage.
Chatoyant Like a cat’s eye.
Comely Attractive.
Conflate To blend together.
Cynosure A focal point of admiration.
Dalliance A brief love affair.
Demesne Dominion, territory.
Demure Shy and reserved.
Denouement The resolution of a mystery.
Desuetude Disuse.
Desultory Slow, sluggish.
Diaphanous Filmy.
Dissemble Deceive.
Dulcet Sweet, sugary.
Ebullience Bubbling enthusiasm.
Effervescent Bubbly.
Efflorescence Flowering, blooming.
Elision Dropping a sound or syllable in a word.
Elixir A good potion.
Eloquence Beauty and persuasion in speech.
Embrocation Rubbing on a lotion.
Emollient A softener.
Ephemeral Short-lived.
Epiphany A sudden revelation.
Erstwhile At one time, for a time.
Ethereal Gaseous, invisible but detectable.
Evanescent Vanishing quickly, lasting a very short time.
Evocative Suggestive.
Fetching Pretty.
Felicity Pleasantness.
Forbearance Withholding response to provocation.
Fugacious Fleeting.
Furtive Shifty, sneaky.
Gambol To skip or leap about joyfully.
Glamour Beauty.
Gossamer The finest piece of thread, a spider’s silk.
Halcyon Happy, sunny, care-free.
Harbinger Messenger with news of the future.
Imbrication Overlapping and forming a regular pattern.
Imbroglio An altercation or complicated situation.
Imbue To infuse, instill.
Incipient Beginning, in an early stage.
Ineffable Unutterable, inexpressible.
Ingénue A naïve young woman.
Inglenook A cozy nook by the hearth.
Insouciance Blithe nonchalance.
Inure To become jaded.
Labyrinthine Twisting and turning.
Lagniappe A special kind of gift.
Lagoon A small gulf or inlet.
Languor Listlessness, inactivity.
Lassitude Weariness, listlessness.
Leisure Free time.
Lilt To move musically or lively.
Lissome Slender and graceful.
Lithe Slender and flexible.
Love Deep affection.
Mellifluous Sweet sounding.
Moiety One of two equal parts.
Mondegreen A slip of the ear.
Murmurous Murmuring.
Nemesis An unconquerable archenemy.
Offing The sea between the horizon and the offshore.
Onomatopoeia A word that sounds like its meaning.
Opulent Lush, luxuriant.
Palimpsest A manuscript written over earlier ones.
Panacea A solution for all problems
Panoply A complete set.
Pastiche An art work combining materials from various sources.
Penumbra A half-shadow.
Petrichor The smell of earth after rain.
Plethora A large quantity.
Propinquity An inclination.
Pyrrhic Successful with heavy losses.
Quintessential Most essential.
Ratatouille A spicy French stew.
Ravel To knit or unknit.
Redolent Fragrant.
Riparian By the bank of a stream.
Ripple A very small wave.
Scintilla A spark or very small thing.
Sempiternal Eternal.
Seraglio Rich, luxurious oriental palace or harem.
Serendipity Finding something nice while looking for something else.
Summery Light, delicate or warm and sunny.
Sumptuous Lush, luxurious.
Surreptitious Secretive, sneaky.
Susquehanna A river in Pennsylvania.
Susurrous Whispering, hissing.
Talisman A good luck charm.
Tintinnabulation Tinkling.
Umbrella Protection from sun or rain.
Untoward Unseemly, inappropriate.
Vestigial In trace amounts.
Wafture Waving.
Wherewithal The means.
Woebegone Sorrowful, downcast.

 

Religious Stuff: Lina A Mercy, Pecola The Bluest Eye

Morrison´s interview showed me two, or three things.

1.       Morrison´s perspective on her work, and that Jazz is her favorite novel despite everyone prefers Beloved.

2.       The Religious component on her work. How the characters she creates are build towards the development of their religious self rather than the plain, linear, theme-related growth.

3.       She was ¨somewhat accelerated¨ when Obama was elected into office.

Not knowing Lina very much, I would like to redirect the attention towards Pecola again. (Since until know I find her character being one of the most fascinating and intriguing I´ve ever read.) Her religious component is dynamic and always present in the novel, without a doubt. And I say religious, because it’s not necessarily spiritual, in fact, it has been more psychological than spiritual at all. Her activity is religious, as a concept, a dogma, as a method. Her pleads and wishes always have a ¨a lack of faith¨ component, seeming more as a desperate naivety than a cathartic reflection, the difference relying in the nature of the individual. In my personal perception, Pecola does not seem to have genuine faith or hope, she just wants to cope with her reality.

Pecola and Disintegration

¨Please, God, ¨ she whispered into the palm of her hand. ¨Please make me disappear.¨ She squeezed her eyes shut.

MorrisonearlierinthenovelsaidthatuglinesswasnotapartofPecolasfamily.ButIthinkIshoulddiffer. Uglines,inthemostuniversalofthemeanings,iswithinPecolasheartandconscience.

Little parts of her body faded away. Now slowly, now with a rush. Her fingers went, one by one; then her arms disappeared all the way to the elbow. Her feet now. Yes, that was good.

Likeviolence,orugliness,sufferingdoesnotnecessarilyneedtobephysical.Alltheseconceptsmaybe expandedinvariousformsandstates.

 Morrison deconstructs Pecolas physical body in order to provide the reader with a metaphysical meaning to her suffering.

The legs all at once. It was hardest above the thighs. She had to be real still and pull. Her stomach would not go. But finally it, too, went away. Then her chest, her neck. The face was hard too.

MethaporandimageryarestillwidelyemployedbyMorrisoninhernarration,andcanbedirectlyadmired withpassagessuchasthisone.Oddly,herstomach,probablyinallusiotoeverythingthatalludesthe feelingscomingfromthatplace,ishardtopullaway,likeanallegorica anchor.  

Almost done, almost. Only her tight, tight eyes were left. They were always left. (p.45)

"It is living and ceasing to live that are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere."
—Andre Breton

Mr. Knife Miss Fork

 

When reading the first two pages of Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye I was confident I was up for some neo-surrealistic book with some sort of a mixture of themes of alienation and racism. 

I was wrong. 

A page later I realize I've been punk'd. And a completely new narration began. I am still happy with the book tough, it seems it has the right amount tragedy and innocence. A particular element brought my attention, and that was the images portrayed by Morrrison: striking, somewhat really crude. That is off course, empowered if specially "seen" by the eyes of a child; "So when I think of autumn, I think of somebody with hands who does not want me to die." (p.12) Fulfilling my entertainment, this literary device became more continuous, and accelerated its momentum through each page. Despite giving the false image of being an over dramatic novella, Morrison really took responsibility on placing noticeable components in the narration, and most important of all, at the right timing; "If happiness is anticipation with certainty, we were happy." The fact that the narrator is a child, inevitably alludes to ones own fuc&@'d up childhood, and its countless traumas. The "outdoors" metaphor almost kept me from sleeping on Tuesday:"...like the difference between the concept of death and being, in fact, dead. Dead doesn't change, and outdoors is here to stay." Last but not least, the images assumed by the narrator on the doll can only create an anticipative ambiance in the reader, waiting to finding out how the psychological profiling in the story will develop..."I was physically revolted by and secretly frightened of those round moronic eyes, the pancake face, and the orangeworms hair."

The Sea (Duh!)

 

The Sea (capitalized) is big. Just as the picture above. Beyond any romantic reflection from my part, I consider Conrad a vivid narrator on this theme, the "infinity of the sea" theme; "Between us there was, as I have already said somewhere, the bond of the sea. Besides holding our hearts together through long periods of separation, it had the effect of making us tolerant of each other's yarns-and even convictions." (pag.2) As vividly explained by the novel's narrator, the sea is an omnipotent entity which embodies infinite, diverse, and different identities. From a psychological point of view, the sea is a strong (if not major) focal point for a sailor, considering it encompasses his whole life. As said by Conrad; "...for there is nothing mysterious to a seaman unless the sea itself, which is the mistress of his existence and as inscrutable as Destiny." (pag. 5) In other words, the seaman's life revolves around the sea, the sea being the alpha, the omega. This extended metaphor produces restlessness tough, since in its most simplistic sense it is equally complicated as life itself or as the method for going to the bathroom. The "Sea" is condemned to probability, or to infinity. 

Throughout the novel the "infinity of the sea" theme develops, and Charlie Marlow translates the sea into another body of water, the river: "And the river was there-fascinating-deadly-like a snake."(pag.15) I was personally struck by the overall tone of darkness in the narration, but that is something that will explained further in future entries. But for what it serves us in the present moment, the juxtaposition of the snake, death, and the river holds and underlined, yet undiscovered meaning. It is somewhat clear that this river represents Marlows youth years, but also, by he reiterating the darkness of the this river, and even further expanding on the snake-like characteristics of this river, it is also very clear that he is up to something. It is quite romantic, in a sense, since it portrays the declivity of his younger years, in a somewhat passionate manner. The ephemeral reflections get to me, since they are simple enough to embrace a life long lesson: "Watching a coast as it slips by the ship is like thinking about an enigma. There it is before you-smiling, frowning, inviting, grand, mean, stupid, or savage, and always mute with an air of whispering." (pag.20)

It's a Cold, Cold World

[YEPIKHODOV crosses the back of the stage playing his guitar.]

MRS. RANEVSKY. [Pensively.] There goes Yepikhodov. 

ANYA. [Pensively.] There goes Yepikhodov. G

AYEV. The sun has set, my friends.

TROFIMOV. Yes. 

GAYEV. [In a quiet voice, as if giving a recitation.] Nature, glorious Nature, glowing with everlasting radiance, so beautiful, so cold — you, whom men call mother, in whom the living and the dead are joined together, you who give life and take it away — 

VARYA. [Imploring him.] Uncle dear! 

ANYA. Uncle, you’re off again. 

TROFIMOV. You’d far better pot the red in the middle. 

GAYEV. I am silent. Silent.

When facing this really lame ending, I desperately went back to previous Acts searching for answers. I expected a really cool deux ex machina, a revelation, the second coming of our savior Jesus Christ, something, nothing. As skimming the pages with a certain feeling of defeat, I find this (apparently) normal excerpt, where Yepikhodov gruesomely describes the sundown. Suddenly I watched with my own eyes how the catharsis miraculously emerged from the II act, way before the ending, in an obscure and secretly fashion. The truth is the characters all were directly or indirectly accepting the idea of eventually loosing the orchard way before the orchard was actually lost. Gayeb, the character wich most conflicted with this conception, actually comes at ease when saying "you who give life and take it away..." Yepikhodov gives out the anagnorisis in the form of a metaphor... Very realistic.