When I first started reading Libra, I was definitely getting a Ragtime vibe. The erratic level of detail with seemingly random comments placed here or there that give depth to characters and settings we only see or read once was very characteristic of Doctorow. (At least, it was to me. Perhaps I'm just crazy.).
I also drew a parallel between Lee and Younger Brother through the whole riding the subways thing. Both characters seem rather aimless and just sort of wander around. The similarity doesn't get much further than that though, as we start to learn more about Lee. A peculiar kid, to be sure, reading things that are much above his level, chilling at the zoo because school doesn't teach what he wants to learn, and separated from others, yet unafraid to stand up for himself if need be. To be honest, I don't have an exact opinion formed of him yet.
Speaking of Lee's odd behavior, I was actually reading the exact portion Mr. Mitchell pointed out in class (I can't find the page number, but it was the one involving him reading Marxist theory while following the text with his index finger) and thought to myself, "Hey, I used to do that while thinking.... oh no wait. I used to do that while pretending to look like I knew what I was reading when I was trying to help tutor a friend..." I suppose I thought that physical action somehow intensifies any activity. Whatever happens, Lee's level of intelligence levels ought to be an interesting point to follow later on in the book.
At this point, I'm trying hard to wipe out what preconceptions I have about Lee Harvey Oswald and his assassination of Kennedy, but to be honest, that's pretty hard. My mind continually wanders back to "What will go wrong, what will snap, to cause him to commit the atrocious act of taking another human's life?" The author seems to intentionally create a very enigmatic character--I am unable to sympathize with him for being an outcast because DeLillo doesn't play the pity card, but neither am I able to cheer him on because (so far) he isn't a terribly attractive or charismatic character. He does, apparently, have that indecipherable smile though--something I've always wanted to have. Sadly, I do not have a indecipherable smile--in fact, they are quite transparent.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
1976
Simeon brought up an interesting point last week, the whole idea of us going back in time now and living in 1976 to do a sort of double-Dana thing. Granted, the technological and social gap won't be as enormous as was 1976 compared to 1815, but it'll still be very interesting to see what sort of parallels we can draw between then and now.
I felt that the description given by Dana concerning the 1815 world was very apt--the world was just somehow harder. Same United States, different lifestyle. Nowadays, life for the middle class of America can be considered somewhat cushy, or soft. Oh sure, I like to complain that my life is difficult and stressful, full of college decisions and schoolwork, but there are loads of things I take for granted that simply weren't the case back in 1815 or even 1976. More research is necessary for me to make an accurate description, but transportation, communication, and the attainment of information is just a gazillion times faster and better than ever imagined back in 1976.
This could be a promising idea for the semester project. I don't know. I mean, it actually sounds like a very interesting topic, but I should probably check with Simeon first. Anyway, referencing the idea of a postmodernist fiction, this could potentially be a story based on another story who drew its from that of its ancestors. Doubly confusing and extra postmodern. The largest snag I can think of when it comes to writing about this topic would be the fact that I'd have to center it around a major conflicting social issue as widespread as slavery. Then again, perhaps it doesn't have to be as widespread, just equally significant and intense. I foresee a great deal of research ahead.
I felt that the description given by Dana concerning the 1815 world was very apt--the world was just somehow harder. Same United States, different lifestyle. Nowadays, life for the middle class of America can be considered somewhat cushy, or soft. Oh sure, I like to complain that my life is difficult and stressful, full of college decisions and schoolwork, but there are loads of things I take for granted that simply weren't the case back in 1815 or even 1976. More research is necessary for me to make an accurate description, but transportation, communication, and the attainment of information is just a gazillion times faster and better than ever imagined back in 1976.
This could be a promising idea for the semester project. I don't know. I mean, it actually sounds like a very interesting topic, but I should probably check with Simeon first. Anyway, referencing the idea of a postmodernist fiction, this could potentially be a story based on another story who drew its from that of its ancestors. Doubly confusing and extra postmodern. The largest snag I can think of when it comes to writing about this topic would be the fact that I'd have to center it around a major conflicting social issue as widespread as slavery. Then again, perhaps it doesn't have to be as widespread, just equally significant and intense. I foresee a great deal of research ahead.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Rufus
Since I didn't get a chance to do an introductory reactions post about Kindred, I'm just going to go ahead and jump right in. It started off very strong and held my interest for quite a long time. As I progressed and I realized that the book was focusing more on her relationship with Rufus and her living in 1815 than the fact that she was traveling through time. It never did end up explaining how that happened. Personally, I think she took it rather well. I don't think I'd adjust terribly well to the time traveler's lifestyle. But back to Rufus.
At first, like everybody else, I accepted him for being a somewhat selfish and rather self-destructive child but essentially not a bad person, just a product of his environment. I was rooting for him, as a matter of fact. Every time he did something stupid or mean natured, I would be say, "He'll grow out of it" or "His passion got the better of him." However, as the story progressed, he would just get more and more out of control with his acts of violence and demonstrations of control. I guess the proverbial hair that broke the camel's back, for me, was the point in which he actually swung his gun out at Dana. At this point, I was really just plowing through the book to finish it. I enjoyed it up until that point almost entirely because I had hoped there would be a happy ending between their relationship but it didn't seem like it would happen. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that I agree with Nikita--after Hagar was born, I was just mentally telling Dana to gtfo. Perhaps not go so far as to kill Rufus herself, but once Hagar was born, she was secure and the whole time paradox idea was more or less safe.
Finally, the way Butler ended the whole story did not sit too well with me. I liked how she described Dana's personal torment when it came to literally ending the life she had worked so hard and spent so much effort in saving. However, I still just had this feeling of, "okay, so now what--wait, that's it?" As if Butler simply got bored with writing and decided to kill it off. I agreed (silently) with Juliana's point in class about how she left a part of her behind, quite literally, because she had invested so much of her time and life in 1815 and I suppose I could see how Butler wanted that to be a symbolic point... but I don't know. Although I can't come up with a particularly better ending, I still didn't really like this one.
At first, like everybody else, I accepted him for being a somewhat selfish and rather self-destructive child but essentially not a bad person, just a product of his environment. I was rooting for him, as a matter of fact. Every time he did something stupid or mean natured, I would be say, "He'll grow out of it" or "His passion got the better of him." However, as the story progressed, he would just get more and more out of control with his acts of violence and demonstrations of control. I guess the proverbial hair that broke the camel's back, for me, was the point in which he actually swung his gun out at Dana. At this point, I was really just plowing through the book to finish it. I enjoyed it up until that point almost entirely because I had hoped there would be a happy ending between their relationship but it didn't seem like it would happen. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that I agree with Nikita--after Hagar was born, I was just mentally telling Dana to gtfo. Perhaps not go so far as to kill Rufus herself, but once Hagar was born, she was secure and the whole time paradox idea was more or less safe.
Finally, the way Butler ended the whole story did not sit too well with me. I liked how she described Dana's personal torment when it came to literally ending the life she had worked so hard and spent so much effort in saving. However, I still just had this feeling of, "okay, so now what--wait, that's it?" As if Butler simply got bored with writing and decided to kill it off. I agreed (silently) with Juliana's point in class about how she left a part of her behind, quite literally, because she had invested so much of her time and life in 1815 and I suppose I could see how Butler wanted that to be a symbolic point... but I don't know. Although I can't come up with a particularly better ending, I still didn't really like this one.
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