Oh, Suzanne Collins. How do you do it? Although I made a valiant attempt to rebel against the crowd by not becoming crazily obsessed with her books like everyone else in the nation seemed to be, something inside of me finally snapped. Two days before the movie premiere, I went to our school's library and checked out the last lonely copy of The Hunger Games. Needless to say, I was hooked within the first few chapters. It took approximately forty-eight hours later for me to reach the last sentence, just in time to go with a group of friends to see the movie on Sunday. (Which, by the way, was AWESOME.)
Now, let's set something straight here. I have never been a big fan of violence, be it in books, movies, video games, etc. I'm the person that squirms while watching nameless extras die in superhero movies, and I always cringe a little when the dastardly Disney villain meets his or her untimely doom. The thought of anyone experiencing pain or suffering (be it mental or physical) with no relief whatsoever is unbearable to me. (Reason A why I refuse to watch medical shows or any of the Saw movies.)
So you can imagine that some parts of The Hunger Games were a bit tough for me to stomach. Of course, I think the whole concept of forcing children to commit brutal murders as a sort of sport is hard for anyone to process... but when you think about it, hasn't senseless violence already been established as a form of entertainment for people today? Of course, it's all virtual stuff- no one's really taking out those Nazi zombies like it's nobody's business, because that's just not acceptable in today's society- but doesn't the popularity of shoot 'em up games such as Call of Duty and Halo reflect back on our nation's values as a whole? My little brother isn't going to believe that the blood that spatters all over the television screen is "just juice" for very long, just sayin'.
How does this all tie into literature, you may ask? Well you see, dear reader, I just finished reading Part I of a French novel (translated into English obviously) called The Stranger, which involves a highly dispassionate yet fairly innocent young man who commits the pointless murder of (as the title suggests) a stranger while stumbling around drunk on an overheated beach.
Sound ridiculous? It is. This man took the life of another as thoughtlessly as you and I might squash a fly that was beginning to annoy with its constant droning, with no reason or motivation behind his action except that the stranger used a knife to flash sunlight in his direction and intensify his hangover-induced headache. Five (or four? This was the question on the quiz I was't 100% sure about) shots later and boom, problem solved. (Except for the fact that the man will most likely go to prison for the rest of life, that is if he doesn't receive a death sentence for murder.) Easy as pie.
Obviously I don't advocate murder in any form, but at least the Capitol had some motivation behind theirs, as horribly evil and twisted as it was. Senseless killing, the kind where human life isn't treated with the slightest bit of significance... now that's where the real danger lies.
-Kati Davis
P.S. For the record, I still wouldn't consider myself crazily obsessed with The Hunger Games... just mildly engrossed. ;)
P.P.S. Woot for turning this in only two days late! :D
Monday, April 2, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Thoughts on Women: The Kati Davis Edition
So, recently our topic of discussion/literature in Mrs. Burnett's AP English class has been... wait for it... gender studies. *cue horror movie music* Apparently this unit hasn't been a very big hit with classes in the past, but for the most part ours has been pretty chill about it. There have been a few giggles and snide remarks from people whose names I won't mention, but overall our class has handled it fairly maturely and guys and girls alike have been respectful to each other.
The thing that elicited the biggest emotional reaction from the class was a worksheet that Mrs. Burnett handed out about a week ago, entitled "Thoughts on Women- A Timeline." This piece of paper contained a collection of degrading quotes regarding women throughout the years, starting in 1500 B.C. and ending with (to several students' shock and horror) 2007. Here are just a few of them:
While to most of the class these were laughable, it struck a chord of indignance within several of us. Is it any wonder there are still feminists that go ballistic over the smallest breach of womens' rights? It may seem extreme, but it's to ensure that our country doesn't start reeling backwards to the time when these statements would have been considered legitimate.
Personally, I've enjoyed this unit. Perhaps being a female does give me a slight bias, but I've definitely learned that I shouldn't take the freedoms I have as an American woman now for granted. Reading literature such as The Yellow Wallpaper, The Awakening, A Doll's House, and yes, the infamous A Room of One's Own (which wasn't nearly as dreadful as an experience as some people made it out to be) has given me a better sense of the progress that society has made since the days where women were forced to lie in bed all day as a means of mental recovery; the days where women were possessions rather than individuals and their only value was in their positions as mothers and housewives; the days where women were restricted from writing to their heart's desire by lack of money, privacy, and emotional freedom.
Thank God those days are dead and gone... let's make sure it stays that way.
-Kati Davis
The thing that elicited the biggest emotional reaction from the class was a worksheet that Mrs. Burnett handed out about a week ago, entitled "Thoughts on Women- A Timeline." This piece of paper contained a collection of degrading quotes regarding women throughout the years, starting in 1500 B.C. and ending with (to several students' shock and horror) 2007. Here are just a few of them:
- "No trust is to be placed in women." -Homer (1200 B.C.)
- "The wife ought not to have any feelings of her own but join with her husband." -Plutarch (45-125 A.D.)
- "Girls begin to talk and stand on their feet sooner than boys because weeds always grow up more quickly than good crops." -Martin Luther (1483-1546)
- "A woman, a spaniel, and a walnut tree- The more they're beaten, the better they be." -Thomas Fuller (1654-1734)
- "Women are to be talked to as below men and above children." -Lord Chesterfield (1694-1733)
- "A man likes his wife to be just clever enough to comprehend his cleverness, and just stupid enough to admire." -Israel Zangwill (1864-1926)
- "Couldn't the moral decline of our country be tied to women entering the work place?" -an anonymous Oxford Area High School Teacher (2007)
While to most of the class these were laughable, it struck a chord of indignance within several of us. Is it any wonder there are still feminists that go ballistic over the smallest breach of womens' rights? It may seem extreme, but it's to ensure that our country doesn't start reeling backwards to the time when these statements would have been considered legitimate.
Personally, I've enjoyed this unit. Perhaps being a female does give me a slight bias, but I've definitely learned that I shouldn't take the freedoms I have as an American woman now for granted. Reading literature such as The Yellow Wallpaper, The Awakening, A Doll's House, and yes, the infamous A Room of One's Own (which wasn't nearly as dreadful as an experience as some people made it out to be) has given me a better sense of the progress that society has made since the days where women were forced to lie in bed all day as a means of mental recovery; the days where women were possessions rather than individuals and their only value was in their positions as mothers and housewives; the days where women were restricted from writing to their heart's desire by lack of money, privacy, and emotional freedom.
Thank God those days are dead and gone... let's make sure it stays that way.
-Kati Davis
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A life summed up in a paragraph.
The cliched expression "Everyone has a story" speaks as much truth as a pastor does during the climax of his weekly sermon (depending on your religious beliefs, of course). Some who are fortunate (or perhaps not so fortunate) get the chance to see their names in print, whether it's on the cover of a best-selling autobiography or above a less-than-flattering photograph on the front of a tabloid magazine. Unfortunately, oftentimes these stories have a tragic end, be it drug overdose or some other accident that shocks the world.
It's true that everyone has a story, but are some stories worth more than others? Would the president of the United States' life take up an entire trilogy, while the life of some poor mother who died in an alleyway with a starving babe in her arms consists of several sympathetic lines in the local obituary? Why do famous figures such as Joe Paterno and Michael Jackson receive months, even years of press after their deaths, while a woman with over thirty grandchildren who left behind a legacy of love gets a three-minute news report? Just a thought for you to chew on.
Death and the emotions associated with it are certainly not limited to real-life celebrities. Just a few examples of famous literary characters whose lives end prematurely at the hands of themselves or another human being are Okonkwo from Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, Mariam from Khaleed Housseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns, and Edna from Kate Chopin's The Awakening. Two out of three of these deaths were suicide, and one was an execution for murder. All of these characters came from vastly different backgrounds and surroundings, but a premature death was something they all had in common. (Excuse my morbidity, after a while the things you read in English class start to affect the way you think whether you want them to or not.)
Let's take a break from discussing literature and move into the realm of film. Ever seen the Robin Williams movie Dead Poets Society? *SPOILER ALERT* If so, then you know that the title of the film is quite literal, as one of the main characters ends up committing suicide when he realizes that he is trapped between his dreams of being an actor and the life that his father is forcing upon him which involves going to medical school. The scene where Neil kills himself is undebatably the most devastating moment in the movie. Why does the death of his character have such a powerful effect on the audience?
The answer is quite simple, really: because it is a death. There is nothing on earth more permanent than the loss of life, and that's why it hits us so hard when a fictional character in a book or movie suffers a tragic end- because we understand the finality of it.
I was really struck at the end of Things Fall Apart when the thoughts of the District Commissioner who had been in charge of "conquering" Okonkwo's African village were revealed to us. One of those thoughts was that he should mention Okonkwo in the novel he was planning on writing, but for no more than a paragraph. I was saddened by the thought that this man felt that Okonkwo's life- his goals and dreams, his hopes and ambitions, his successes, his failure, his moments of intense shame and immense triumph, could be packaged and condensed into several neatly written sentences.
The value of a life exceeds what justice best-selling books and movies that overturn the box office could do it. A life is unique and precious; something that, once it's gone, can't ever be replaced. I'm not saying that we should stop writing books or producing movies to honor those that have passed on. What I'm saying is that maybe we should stop and reflect on not only the famous people that have died, but also those who left this world with nothing but a birth certificate behind as a reminder of their existence (and not everyone is fortunate enough to even have one of those)... the millions of Jews that perished in the Holocaust, those HIV-ridden children in Africa, the soldier that spent his last breath saving the life of another, that old lady down the street whose name you could never remember... all of the nameless people whose lives mattered far beyond words.
-Kati Davis
It's true that everyone has a story, but are some stories worth more than others? Would the president of the United States' life take up an entire trilogy, while the life of some poor mother who died in an alleyway with a starving babe in her arms consists of several sympathetic lines in the local obituary? Why do famous figures such as Joe Paterno and Michael Jackson receive months, even years of press after their deaths, while a woman with over thirty grandchildren who left behind a legacy of love gets a three-minute news report? Just a thought for you to chew on.
Death and the emotions associated with it are certainly not limited to real-life celebrities. Just a few examples of famous literary characters whose lives end prematurely at the hands of themselves or another human being are Okonkwo from Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, Mariam from Khaleed Housseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns, and Edna from Kate Chopin's The Awakening. Two out of three of these deaths were suicide, and one was an execution for murder. All of these characters came from vastly different backgrounds and surroundings, but a premature death was something they all had in common. (Excuse my morbidity, after a while the things you read in English class start to affect the way you think whether you want them to or not.)
Let's take a break from discussing literature and move into the realm of film. Ever seen the Robin Williams movie Dead Poets Society? *SPOILER ALERT* If so, then you know that the title of the film is quite literal, as one of the main characters ends up committing suicide when he realizes that he is trapped between his dreams of being an actor and the life that his father is forcing upon him which involves going to medical school. The scene where Neil kills himself is undebatably the most devastating moment in the movie. Why does the death of his character have such a powerful effect on the audience?
The answer is quite simple, really: because it is a death. There is nothing on earth more permanent than the loss of life, and that's why it hits us so hard when a fictional character in a book or movie suffers a tragic end- because we understand the finality of it.
I was really struck at the end of Things Fall Apart when the thoughts of the District Commissioner who had been in charge of "conquering" Okonkwo's African village were revealed to us. One of those thoughts was that he should mention Okonkwo in the novel he was planning on writing, but for no more than a paragraph. I was saddened by the thought that this man felt that Okonkwo's life- his goals and dreams, his hopes and ambitions, his successes, his failure, his moments of intense shame and immense triumph, could be packaged and condensed into several neatly written sentences.
The value of a life exceeds what justice best-selling books and movies that overturn the box office could do it. A life is unique and precious; something that, once it's gone, can't ever be replaced. I'm not saying that we should stop writing books or producing movies to honor those that have passed on. What I'm saying is that maybe we should stop and reflect on not only the famous people that have died, but also those who left this world with nothing but a birth certificate behind as a reminder of their existence (and not everyone is fortunate enough to even have one of those)... the millions of Jews that perished in the Holocaust, those HIV-ridden children in Africa, the soldier that spent his last breath saving the life of another, that old lady down the street whose name you could never remember... all of the nameless people whose lives mattered far beyond words.
-Kati Davis
Monday, January 2, 2012
The Challenge of Being Relatively Cultural.
It's January second, two thousand-twelve, two days after this blog was technically due... oops. Don't feel bad Mrs. Burnett, you're not the only teacher whose work I neglected to start until today. :)
While reading and responding to an article on the concept of cultural relativism at first seemed a dull and daunting task (as I prefer to choose and write about the topics I please rather than ones that are assigned to me), I soon found myself nerdily absorbed in what James Rachels had to say. Coincidentally, I had recently glanced through a book on the concept of moral relativism (written by someone who was vehemently opposed to it), so I was interested in learning the difference between the two and found it interesting how the two are connected... but I'll save that discussion for another time.
A lot of the points presented in "The Challenge of Cultural Relativism" I found to be almost common sensical- for example, "Different cultures have different moral codes." Well, duh. As if reading about how Okonkwo's village slaughtered innocent boys in retribution for the wrongs done to them by another village wasn't proof enough of that fact.
However, several of Rachels' points I found to be very thought-provoking and enlightening, especially the ones that disspelled the notion that cultural relativism is a completely reasonable way of thinking and should be adopted by all in the pursuit of unity among humans. I myself feel that, while some aspects of cultural relativism are truthful and would be beneficial if implemented in our society, there are others which would be disastrous if done so, and I'm glad that James Rachels feels the same way.
For example, one argument Rachels pits against making culture relativism the "law of the land" (which is a paradox if you really think about it) is that it would forbid us from condemning the practices of other societies on the basis of morals. In other words, we could not say that Hitler's abominable attempt to wipe out the Jewish population in Germany known as the Holocaust was wrong simply because we as Americans, Christians, "good people", etc. believe it to be so. Such an attitude would undoubtedly result in throwing the world into complete and utter chaos and turmoil. ("Well, if there's no clear definition of right or wrong, then who's to say America shouldn't nuke the heck out of China for no good reason? It'll certainly take a big chunk out of our national debt!") My point has been made.
In relation to Things Fall Apart: Okonkwo was so blinded by the belief that his way of life was the only way of life that he was willing to die rather than succumb to the changes taking place in his society. The tragic end of his life resulted from the fear of the unknown. While I can't say I blame him for being opposed to having his village taken over and transformed by outsiders, I also think that had he should have at the very least strived to learn more about the white man's ideas before rejecting them completely. On the other hand, I think that the men who invaded Okonkwo's society should have taken the time to befriend the Igbo people and learn more about their culture before disregarding it as primitive and backward and replacing it with what they believed to be their own superior culture.
Really, can't we all just get along?
-Kati Davis
While reading and responding to an article on the concept of cultural relativism at first seemed a dull and daunting task (as I prefer to choose and write about the topics I please rather than ones that are assigned to me), I soon found myself nerdily absorbed in what James Rachels had to say. Coincidentally, I had recently glanced through a book on the concept of moral relativism (written by someone who was vehemently opposed to it), so I was interested in learning the difference between the two and found it interesting how the two are connected... but I'll save that discussion for another time.
A lot of the points presented in "The Challenge of Cultural Relativism" I found to be almost common sensical- for example, "Different cultures have different moral codes." Well, duh. As if reading about how Okonkwo's village slaughtered innocent boys in retribution for the wrongs done to them by another village wasn't proof enough of that fact.
However, several of Rachels' points I found to be very thought-provoking and enlightening, especially the ones that disspelled the notion that cultural relativism is a completely reasonable way of thinking and should be adopted by all in the pursuit of unity among humans. I myself feel that, while some aspects of cultural relativism are truthful and would be beneficial if implemented in our society, there are others which would be disastrous if done so, and I'm glad that James Rachels feels the same way.
For example, one argument Rachels pits against making culture relativism the "law of the land" (which is a paradox if you really think about it) is that it would forbid us from condemning the practices of other societies on the basis of morals. In other words, we could not say that Hitler's abominable attempt to wipe out the Jewish population in Germany known as the Holocaust was wrong simply because we as Americans, Christians, "good people", etc. believe it to be so. Such an attitude would undoubtedly result in throwing the world into complete and utter chaos and turmoil. ("Well, if there's no clear definition of right or wrong, then who's to say America shouldn't nuke the heck out of China for no good reason? It'll certainly take a big chunk out of our national debt!") My point has been made.
In relation to Things Fall Apart: Okonkwo was so blinded by the belief that his way of life was the only way of life that he was willing to die rather than succumb to the changes taking place in his society. The tragic end of his life resulted from the fear of the unknown. While I can't say I blame him for being opposed to having his village taken over and transformed by outsiders, I also think that had he should have at the very least strived to learn more about the white man's ideas before rejecting them completely. On the other hand, I think that the men who invaded Okonkwo's society should have taken the time to befriend the Igbo people and learn more about their culture before disregarding it as primitive and backward and replacing it with what they believed to be their own superior culture.
Really, can't we all just get along?
-Kati Davis
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Understanding the Un-understandable... wait, what?
Our AP English class just started reading Waiting for Godot, and one of the introductory/thought-provoking questions we had to contemplate beforehand was "Does humankind by nature long to understand the un-understandable?" To be honest, I'm not a hundred percent sure as to what this specific question has to do with the play, but I do know that it struck me as truth, which (I would guess) is a central theme of Godot.
"I am not not going to hurt you." Take a moment to study that sentence. Notice the double "not's." Was that merely a typo, or was done purposefully to convert the statement into a threat? The "not's" cancel each other out, right? So what I'm actually saying is "I am going to hurt you." Well, maybe I'm just weird like this, but those types of sentences annoy the crap out of me. Why? Because my inner desire to understand takes control when I read them. Maybe that was a dumb example, but to me it showcases the humankind's natural tendency to try to make sense of everything that stumbles across our path of life.
Here's another perfect example: children. Ever wonder why kids ask so many "why" questions? ("Why is the sky blue?" "Why do dogs hate cats?" "Why do I have to go to school?") It's because they're curious. Ever get frustrated when you find yourself unable to answer their questions? (I know whenever this happens to me, I cop out and give them the ole "Just because that's the way it is, okay?!" reply, all the while silently fuming.) It all goes back to curiosity; to our need for understanding, even of what we know is impossible.
Our class also studied works of "surrealistic art" as a precursory to our Godot unit, which I found quite fascinating (and creepy at the same time.) Despite the obvious absurdities of the artwork we observed, there was always some facet of truth presented within them. For example, one of the pictures showed what appeared to be a man attempting to escape from the inside of a mini egg-like earth. While the art itself is clearly an example of absurdity, there is no doubt truth in the concept of the need humans have to escape from their physical boundaries, whatever these may be.
Our need to understand reveals an even greater need that all humans have, and that is the desire for truth. Without truth, there is no stability. Without stability, we would all mentally implode and society would erupt into chaos. It's an inherent part of human nature: what we don't know, we find out; what we can't find out, we do research on until we do; when/if our research reveals nothing, we a) hang our heads b) scream and pull our hair out by the roots or c) set off on an epic quest to satisfy our curiosities.
This is where the concept of religion and science come into play. They answer these core questions: where did the universe come from? Why are we here? Were we the result of an imploding speck of dust, or were we hand-crafted by a being so superior to us that we can't even wrap our minds around it? If you believe in god, what kind do you believe in? One invisible dominant figure, or little pieces of a supernatural entity that exists in all of us?
Personally, I don't believe in the concept of agnosticism. Everyone has to believe in something. If you claim not to, then what you're really doing is just blocking out the little voice in your head that's just dying for some foundation to cling to. Face it, you're a part of the paradox: you want to understand the un-understandable just as much as everyone else.
-Kati Davis
"I am not not going to hurt you." Take a moment to study that sentence. Notice the double "not's." Was that merely a typo, or was done purposefully to convert the statement into a threat? The "not's" cancel each other out, right? So what I'm actually saying is "I am going to hurt you." Well, maybe I'm just weird like this, but those types of sentences annoy the crap out of me. Why? Because my inner desire to understand takes control when I read them. Maybe that was a dumb example, but to me it showcases the humankind's natural tendency to try to make sense of everything that stumbles across our path of life.
Here's another perfect example: children. Ever wonder why kids ask so many "why" questions? ("Why is the sky blue?" "Why do dogs hate cats?" "Why do I have to go to school?") It's because they're curious. Ever get frustrated when you find yourself unable to answer their questions? (I know whenever this happens to me, I cop out and give them the ole "Just because that's the way it is, okay?!" reply, all the while silently fuming.) It all goes back to curiosity; to our need for understanding, even of what we know is impossible.
Our class also studied works of "surrealistic art" as a precursory to our Godot unit, which I found quite fascinating (and creepy at the same time.) Despite the obvious absurdities of the artwork we observed, there was always some facet of truth presented within them. For example, one of the pictures showed what appeared to be a man attempting to escape from the inside of a mini egg-like earth. While the art itself is clearly an example of absurdity, there is no doubt truth in the concept of the need humans have to escape from their physical boundaries, whatever these may be.
Our need to understand reveals an even greater need that all humans have, and that is the desire for truth. Without truth, there is no stability. Without stability, we would all mentally implode and society would erupt into chaos. It's an inherent part of human nature: what we don't know, we find out; what we can't find out, we do research on until we do; when/if our research reveals nothing, we a) hang our heads b) scream and pull our hair out by the roots or c) set off on an epic quest to satisfy our curiosities.
This is where the concept of religion and science come into play. They answer these core questions: where did the universe come from? Why are we here? Were we the result of an imploding speck of dust, or were we hand-crafted by a being so superior to us that we can't even wrap our minds around it? If you believe in god, what kind do you believe in? One invisible dominant figure, or little pieces of a supernatural entity that exists in all of us?
Personally, I don't believe in the concept of agnosticism. Everyone has to believe in something. If you claim not to, then what you're really doing is just blocking out the little voice in your head that's just dying for some foundation to cling to. Face it, you're a part of the paradox: you want to understand the un-understandable just as much as everyone else.
-Kati Davis
Sunday, October 30, 2011
"Pride comes before a fall."
Yes, it's a cliched expression, but there's an immeasurable amount of truth in it. One of society's biggest problems is that people allow pride to get in the way of reason. I can think of quite a few good examples from literature in which choices that characters make out of pride and selfish desire go horribly wrong. One of the best examples of this type of consequence comes from the story of Beowulf.
Beowulf, lead hero of the epic poem Beowulf (go figure), starts out as an orphan and works his way up in society until eventually he reaches the ultimate position as king of the Geats. Beowulf is known virtually everywhere for his courage, valor, strength... oh, and let's not forget pride. This small character flaw is arguably what leads to Beowulf's downfall in his last battle against a ferocious dragon that has been terrorizing his people. Determined to face the beast alone, Beowulf does just that. He even takes the bare minimum of armor and weapons with him into battle. In the end, our hero pays a mighty price for his decisions: his own life.
From the fifth grader caught cheating on her math test because she forgot to study and was afraid of showing her mom anything less than an A+ to the politician refusing to sway to the arguments of the other side despite the fact that he knows they make much more sense than his do, everyone makes a foolish decision based on pride at some point in their lives. Why do so many promising marriages fail within the first few years? Why do distant and neighboring countries that have virtually nothing in common except that they share the same earth war with each other? Why do the closest of friends allow one tiny disagreement to unravel the threads of a relationship that has lasted for decades? Why do churches, places that are supposedly founded on the concepts of of forgiveness and harmony, split over petty arguments regarding the dress code for Sunday school? Oftentimes the answer to these questions lies in the fact that both parties involved are too stubborn and proud and rooted in their own opinion to try to see through the other's eyes.
In the biblical book of Philippians, chapter 2 verse 3 says to "do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves." The key word in this passage is "humility." The concept of being humble has never been a popular one. Put simply, humility means stepping down from the pedestal of pride and taking others' opinions into consideration, even if you don't necessarily agree with them. Selfishness is an innately human characteristic, and it's one that we all struggle with, even though we often preach the concept of humility to others. "Treat others the way you would like to be treated." I mean, who really follows that rule without bending it or twisting the words to meet their own desires every once in a while? I've yet to meet that person. When I do, I'll let you know.
Before provoking the dragon into battle, Beowulf says so himself that his purpose for fighting solo is "for the glory of winning." Others may argue that the decision was made out of regard to lives of his men, but it sounds to me as though our hero was simply too blinded by the prospect of fame and victory to think reasonably. In my opinion the great king Beowulf, as well as the rest of our real-life society, could use a pretty large helping of the dreaded h word.
-Kati Davis
Beowulf, lead hero of the epic poem Beowulf (go figure), starts out as an orphan and works his way up in society until eventually he reaches the ultimate position as king of the Geats. Beowulf is known virtually everywhere for his courage, valor, strength... oh, and let's not forget pride. This small character flaw is arguably what leads to Beowulf's downfall in his last battle against a ferocious dragon that has been terrorizing his people. Determined to face the beast alone, Beowulf does just that. He even takes the bare minimum of armor and weapons with him into battle. In the end, our hero pays a mighty price for his decisions: his own life.
From the fifth grader caught cheating on her math test because she forgot to study and was afraid of showing her mom anything less than an A+ to the politician refusing to sway to the arguments of the other side despite the fact that he knows they make much more sense than his do, everyone makes a foolish decision based on pride at some point in their lives. Why do so many promising marriages fail within the first few years? Why do distant and neighboring countries that have virtually nothing in common except that they share the same earth war with each other? Why do the closest of friends allow one tiny disagreement to unravel the threads of a relationship that has lasted for decades? Why do churches, places that are supposedly founded on the concepts of of forgiveness and harmony, split over petty arguments regarding the dress code for Sunday school? Oftentimes the answer to these questions lies in the fact that both parties involved are too stubborn and proud and rooted in their own opinion to try to see through the other's eyes.
In the biblical book of Philippians, chapter 2 verse 3 says to "do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves." The key word in this passage is "humility." The concept of being humble has never been a popular one. Put simply, humility means stepping down from the pedestal of pride and taking others' opinions into consideration, even if you don't necessarily agree with them. Selfishness is an innately human characteristic, and it's one that we all struggle with, even though we often preach the concept of humility to others. "Treat others the way you would like to be treated." I mean, who really follows that rule without bending it or twisting the words to meet their own desires every once in a while? I've yet to meet that person. When I do, I'll let you know.
Before provoking the dragon into battle, Beowulf says so himself that his purpose for fighting solo is "for the glory of winning." Others may argue that the decision was made out of regard to lives of his men, but it sounds to me as though our hero was simply too blinded by the prospect of fame and victory to think reasonably. In my opinion the great king Beowulf, as well as the rest of our real-life society, could use a pretty large helping of the dreaded h word.
-Kati Davis
Sunday, October 2, 2011
A Second Look at Mrs. Keating
The Fountainhead. I think it's safe to say that the majority of Mrs. Burnett's first period Advanced Placement English class enjoyed this book, which, along with the rest of the summer's required reading, raised controversial questions about individuality and the fight against the standards of society. It was easy for us as the readers to cheer on the protagonist, Howard Roark, Rand's "epitome of perfection", and it was also easy for us to boo the characters that dared try to stand in his way or force their ideals on him. During the Socratic Seminar, most of us had no trouble expressing our disgusted opinions of Rand's lesser characters such as Gail Wynand, Ellsworth Toohey, and that wretched woman that gave birth to Peter Keating... what was her name again? Ah yes, Mrs. Keating.
But, if you really think about it, weren't we essentially booing ourselves?
It's quite clear that Ms. Rand's opinion of society and humanity as a whole is not very high, and we see this through the way she portrays almost every character in her book whose name does not start with an "H" and end with an "--oward Roark." Apparently her opinion rubs off on her readers, who seem to fall into that same mentality as they read. I'll even admit to being one of them. I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose in disgust whenever I read about Keating's pathetic attempts at gaining society's fickle approval, or shake my head sadly at the way Katie allowed herself to be manipulated by her uncle until she became something quite unrecognizably inhuman and ugly.
But think about it. Think about it really, really hard. How many Howard Roarks do you know? Allow me to restate the question. How many people do you know that have absolutely no emotion whatsoever and never allow themselves to be influenced by the opinions of others? Personally, I can't think of one person who cares nothing whatsoever of the opinion of their family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, teachers, students, pets, etc. etc. etc. Whether we realize it or not, we all have some pretty ugly truths about ourselves that we hide from others for the sake of gaining their approval. But aren't those people the kinds of characters from The Fountainhead that we booed?
Let's take Mrs. Keating as an example. Yes, she was annoying. Yes, she was arrogant. Yes, she forced her opinions down her son's throat and used the guilt factor to twist his way of thinking. No, she probably doesn't deserve the "Mother-of-the-Year" award.
But you wanna know something else about Mrs. Keating? She was human. She had her flaws, no matter how exaggerated Rand might have made them, and she acted out of selfish impulses and desires the same way all of us have done probably more times in our lives than we would like to admit. Like all of us, she had motives behind her actions. I truly believe in my heart that Mrs. Keating loved her son and wanted to see him succeed, however twisted her view of success may have been, but at the same time she was also afraid of losing him and being left alone and friendless, and that's why she was always trying to keep him around.
You may not be able to find it in your heart to feel compassion for this woman, and that's okay, because she probably doesn't deserve your empathy anyway. However, I think we all should be able to find in our hearts the ability to sympathize with her. Remember the scene where Ellsworth yelled at her while talking to Keating and she reacted like a scared puppy? Did you really feel not one ounce of sympathy for her at that moment? If not, then forgive me for asking, but who can you sympathize with? Howard Roark doesn't need our sympathy. He doesn't need anything from us. We could spit in his face and laugh and point at him behind his back, or we could clap him on the shoulder and audibly praise his acheivements, and it wouldn't make a difference either way.
Now, I'm not advocating that it's wrong for Roark not to care about other people's opinions or let himself be influenced by society's ideals. Honestly, I wish I could be more like him sometimes, because trying to please people gets really tiring after a while. All I'm saying is, as much as we and the author may want to believe it, there's no such thing as Howard Roark. He isn't real. He doesn't exist. Mrs. Keating, on the other hand, does. So I think maybe we should do a little less booing and a little less judging; take our noses out of the books every once in a while and take a long, hard look at the reality that surrounds us; and try to fix our own problems instead of condemning someone else's.
-Kati Davis
But, if you really think about it, weren't we essentially booing ourselves?
It's quite clear that Ms. Rand's opinion of society and humanity as a whole is not very high, and we see this through the way she portrays almost every character in her book whose name does not start with an "H" and end with an "--oward Roark." Apparently her opinion rubs off on her readers, who seem to fall into that same mentality as they read. I'll even admit to being one of them. I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose in disgust whenever I read about Keating's pathetic attempts at gaining society's fickle approval, or shake my head sadly at the way Katie allowed herself to be manipulated by her uncle until she became something quite unrecognizably inhuman and ugly.
But think about it. Think about it really, really hard. How many Howard Roarks do you know? Allow me to restate the question. How many people do you know that have absolutely no emotion whatsoever and never allow themselves to be influenced by the opinions of others? Personally, I can't think of one person who cares nothing whatsoever of the opinion of their family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, teachers, students, pets, etc. etc. etc. Whether we realize it or not, we all have some pretty ugly truths about ourselves that we hide from others for the sake of gaining their approval. But aren't those people the kinds of characters from The Fountainhead that we booed?
Let's take Mrs. Keating as an example. Yes, she was annoying. Yes, she was arrogant. Yes, she forced her opinions down her son's throat and used the guilt factor to twist his way of thinking. No, she probably doesn't deserve the "Mother-of-the-Year" award.
But you wanna know something else about Mrs. Keating? She was human. She had her flaws, no matter how exaggerated Rand might have made them, and she acted out of selfish impulses and desires the same way all of us have done probably more times in our lives than we would like to admit. Like all of us, she had motives behind her actions. I truly believe in my heart that Mrs. Keating loved her son and wanted to see him succeed, however twisted her view of success may have been, but at the same time she was also afraid of losing him and being left alone and friendless, and that's why she was always trying to keep him around.
You may not be able to find it in your heart to feel compassion for this woman, and that's okay, because she probably doesn't deserve your empathy anyway. However, I think we all should be able to find in our hearts the ability to sympathize with her. Remember the scene where Ellsworth yelled at her while talking to Keating and she reacted like a scared puppy? Did you really feel not one ounce of sympathy for her at that moment? If not, then forgive me for asking, but who can you sympathize with? Howard Roark doesn't need our sympathy. He doesn't need anything from us. We could spit in his face and laugh and point at him behind his back, or we could clap him on the shoulder and audibly praise his acheivements, and it wouldn't make a difference either way.
Now, I'm not advocating that it's wrong for Roark not to care about other people's opinions or let himself be influenced by society's ideals. Honestly, I wish I could be more like him sometimes, because trying to please people gets really tiring after a while. All I'm saying is, as much as we and the author may want to believe it, there's no such thing as Howard Roark. He isn't real. He doesn't exist. Mrs. Keating, on the other hand, does. So I think maybe we should do a little less booing and a little less judging; take our noses out of the books every once in a while and take a long, hard look at the reality that surrounds us; and try to fix our own problems instead of condemning someone else's.
-Kati Davis
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