Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

Joyce Carol Oates's short story, Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?, was unlike anything else we've read this year. Equal parts complex, perplexing, and horrifying, the story evoked such an intense mood. There were several aspects of this story that appealed to me: the dark atmosphere, demonology, and cryptology just to name a few.

What I most appreciated about Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? was how differently it approached the coming-of-age theme. Some of the novels we're read in class, like To Kill a Mockingbird and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, feature childish characters who are placed in adult situations and emerge victorious with a new outlook on life and a valuable lesson learned; often times these are happy endings. Oates does not fall into this pattern. Things don't end well for Connie. Coming-of-age for her is about a tragic loss of innocence. She is different by the end of the story, yes, but not necessarily for the better (at least the way I interpreted the ending, anyway).

I'm going to shift in focus for a bit and talk about a few things I like: The Da Vinci Code, alternate reality games, treasure hunts. If you can draw any common themes from these, it's that I like the notion of uncovering secrets. I think that's why I responded so positively to Oates's short story. I was absolutely amazed when Professor Williams erased the "r's"in Arnold Friend's name to reveal that he was actually An old Fiend. How cool was that? Similarly, when I found out that the numbers 33 19 17 were secretly a reference to the Bible and the story's title I was completely shocked.

For some reason I've always been a fan of really dark left turns that seemingly come out of nowhere. Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? is a really great example of how this concept can function in literature. I've included links below to two other types of media that I feel similarly portray this idea. One is a scene from the movie Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle. If you've seen or heard the movie, I'm guessing that right now you're writing this off as a dumb excuse to put a link to a funny video in my blog, but hear me out. In my opinion, I think the movie is best when it steps outside the boundaries of your typical bro-mance and ventures into much darker comedy. Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle consistently takes what the audience thinks is likely to happen to the two titular characters and does the exact opposite. The other link is the song "Window" by the agressive, alternative hip-hop, teenage rapper Tyler the Creator. On his album, Goblin, Tyler continues his exploration of darkness in the teenage psyche through several semi-fictional characters which are representative of Tyler's many alter-egos. I've included "Window" specifically because of it's "skit" outro in which Tyler ultimately "shoots" his fellow rap collective compatriots.

WARNING: BOTH OF THE VIDEOS LINKED TO BELOW ARE HIGHLY EXPLICIT AND INAPPROPRIATE. MY INTENT IS NOT TO PURPOSELY OFFEND ANYONE, BUT RATHER TO MORE FULLY ILLUSTRATE MY REACTION TO "WHERE ARE YOU GOING, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"


Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle

Tyler, the Creator - "Window" [Skip to 6:28 for the previously mentioned Outro]

Time Magazine circa 1951

On Monday I went to the Rec, grabbed a smoothie, hit the library, and read up on some vintage Time magazines. Narnia was totally overrun with people so Billy, Brian, two of their hooligan friends, and myself had to relocate to the corner of the basement to get our work done. Wonderful music played in the background as our minds swelled with vast knowledge and understanding of 1950's and 60's americana.

The Time magazines that I read were from January 1951 and revealed a lot about the tension and turmoil that America experienced at that time. [SPOILER ALERT] Although America had emerged from WWII victorious, it now found itself in the middle of the Cold War, and more specifically the Korean War. Time magazine, not known for being the pinnacle of escapist literature, consequently reflected this solemn mood.

Unsurprisingly, the first thing that caught my attention was the cover. If you are at all familiar with Time magazine, you know that every year they select someone as the Time Person of the Year. The "award" is given to the person "for better or for worse, ...has done the most to influence the events of the year." I put award in quotations because as the criterion implies, it's not always a good thing; Hitler and Stalin, a two time winner, have both been selected. In 1951 the award was actually still called Time Man of the Year, because hey, it's the early fifties. No one cared about being politically correct slash not sexist then.

Times Man of the Year: the American Fighting-man

1951's Man of the Year was the American Fighting-man. The Times cover clearly evidenced just how much Americans were worried about another global conflict -- all eyes were on Korea. I believe there's an implied coming-of-age story within the cover of the magazine; countless American youths taken from their normal, domestic lives and thrust into combat and conflict. Popular war novels such as The Things They Carried convey similar stories of young American men who lose their sense of innocence as the result of war. Interestingly, this was the first time the award was given to a group of people as opposed to a single person. Since 1951 the award has been given to other abstract groups or ideas such as:

• The Hungarian freedom fighter (1956)
• American scientists (1960)
• Baby Boomers (1966)
• The Middle Americans (1969)
• American women (1975)
• The Computer (1982)
• The Endangered Earth (1988)
• The Peacemakers (1993)
• The Whistleblowers (2002)
• The American soldier (2003)
• The Good Samaritans (2005)
• You (2006)
• The Protestor (2011)

There were also some lesser articles within the magazine that I felt embodied coming-of-age themes as well. "Death in the Ring" was about a boxer named Al West, age 21, who died in the ring from brain injuries. It was really horrible to read about an athlete taken in the prime of his life. The sport of boxing wasn't as safe or well regulated back then as it is now. Another story talked about a then-recent study about the correlation between popularity and perceived beauty as well as unpopularity and perceived ugliness in schoolchildren. The study reminded me a lot about bullying in the public school system. Another article discussed the growing concern for schoolchildren in foreign countries being taught by Marxist regimes.

Once again I had a surprising amount of culture shock when reading the outdated magazine. It was interesting to see public figures like Juan Peron being discussed in a contemporary context. I laughed at the idea that his wife would eventually become the subject matter for a Broadway play. There were also a couple of stories about the emerging dangers of DDT and radioactivity. Television was another popular subject. The notion of broadcasting in color TV was deemed highly important as were the prevalence of anti-communist loyalty checks at stations like CBS and NBC. The last thing that made me chuckle was a reader's poll. When asked which contemporary American artist would be most highly regarded by the year 2000, Americans answered Frank Lloyd Wright. WHO IS THAT? Am I right? amirite?

The House on Mango Street

When I first read Sandra Cisnero's The House on Mango Street, I really disliked it. Admittedly, it took me much longer than it should have to read all 100 pages of it. I think the reason I disliked it so much was because I was expecting it to be similar to the other books we read in class -- and in some ways it was. Obviously The House on Mango Street was a coming-of-age story, but it expanded on the themes of racism and sexism that were also explored in To Kill a Mockingbird, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Hills Like White Elephants, etc. However, my fatal flaw was assuming that The House on Mango Street would more or less follow in the footsteps of these novels. I expected chapters and a consistent plot among other things. I guess you could say I judged this book by its cover.

"Oh my God. Did he really just do that? What a horrible pun. Way to go for the low-hanging fruit, Paul." you may be thinking to yourself. Yes, that just happened. YOLO, as the kids would say. Moving on.

It wasn't until I read the book a second time through that I really discovered what it had to offer. Instead of trying to weave together a full-on character arc for Esperanza like I attempted to do during my first read through, I considered each "chapter" of The House on Mango Street to be an intentionally brief glimpse into Esperanza's life that were meant to convey emotional truths as opposed to an intensely interwoven and designed plot.

That's not to say my second reading of the book gave me a completely new perspective that made me enjoy every aspect of the book; I still think the second chapter of the book, Hairs, to be really stupid. However, I did like several parts of the book. One thing that Cisneros did that I found interesting was the inverse relationship she established between writing and Mango Street itself; as Esperanza become more involved with writing and connecting inwardly with herself, the farther she grew away from Mango street.

All in all, I thought The House on Mango Street was alright, but what I really valued from my experience with the novel was how it made me reflect on other literature and media. I drew some parallels between this book and The Things They Carried. Both novels are basically a collection of tangentially related vignettes that work together to make a cohesive assertion about something -- in this case writing or war, respectively. I also thought about some films like Crash, Vantage Point, and Night on Earth that operate in a similarly disjointed manner.

What really surprised me though was the similarities I found between The House on Mango Street and a movie I had recently watched for the first time, A Knight's Tale. On the surface the two have nothing in common; The House on Mango Street is about a Mexican-American youth growing up in a troubled neighborhood, and A Knight's Tale is about a Medieval peasant who aims to become a champion jouster. However, one of the common themes in A Knight's Tale is the idea of "changing your stars". Although the main character, William Thatcher, is born to peasant parents, through determination and sheer sense of will he comes to compete against the world's best jousters, knights born into royal families. Esperanza also hopes to change her stars. She desperately wants to escape from the confines of Mango Street. Additionally, Geoffrey Chaucer, author of Canterbury Tales, serves as a sort of sidekick in A Knight's Tale. He first appears in the movie naked with no possessions to his name because he's racked up severe gambling debts. In the movie he vows to get revenge on those who put him in such a position by negatively immortalizing them in his literature. In this way, writing is a venue for freedom for Chaucer, just as it is for Esperanza.

To Kill a Mockingbird

When we discussed To Kill a Mockingbird in class, I immediately felt like the odd man out. The majority of our class had read the novel in high school. For some, Lit & Civ II was the third time they read the book. I, however, had never picked it up. I also had never seen the classic film adaptation. My To Kill a Mockingbird knowledge began and ended with the Atticus clothing brand, which was basically some company started by two of the dudes from Blink 182 whose name originated from the novel.

Overall I had a very positive first experience with the book. I didn't breeze through it, but there's definitely a good pace to the novel. One of the high points in the novel for me was the whole courtroom scene in which Atticus defends Tom Robinson. Lee's writing was fairly cinematic and had a good flow to it; I was lying down reading in bed, and even though I was about to pass out and go to bed, I kept reading until the jury gave their verdict. In my everyday life I don't find legal proceedings to be very fascinating, but the courtroom scene was enthralling nonetheless. I enjoyed how Atticus kinda tricked Bob Ewell into revealing that he was left handed. It reminded me a lot of the Phoenix Wright video games series (in which you play a lawyer who relies on surprising courtroom antics like Atticus does) or that scene in Legally Blonde where she tricks the pool boy into revealing that he's gay to win the big case or something like that.

Legally Blonde

Phoenix Wright

Another part of To Kill a Mockingbird that I liked and really stuck with me was the morphodite. I think the reason I enjoyed this symbol so much was that I discovered its meaning as I was reading that passage. Generally when I read a book for the first time I'm mostly just picking up on the basics: story beats, character arcs, and that sort of thing. In most cases I don't discover any symbols, motifs, or deep hidden meaning within a novel during my first time reading through it. I usually need a second read through, a teacher's insight, or SparkNotes before I pick up on things like that. I think that maybe because I was able to determine the symbolic of the morphodite on my own, that I felt partial ownership of it, which is why I liked it so much. But beyond that, it has a pleasant meaning in and of itself.

During my time with To Kill a Mockingbird I particularly enjoyed its exploration of the themes of racism. I've read other novels that dealt with this touchy subject; books like Rolling Thunder, Hear My Cry, Autobiography of Malcolm X, The Kite Runner, and obviously The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from this semester come to mind. As a white male I have rarely been the target or victim of racism, but having grown up in the South, I've certainly encountered it. Usually when I read novels like these, I feel this underlying sense of white guilt. Usually. But not this time. To Kill a Mockingbird has such heavy ethical and moral content that I just simply felt good reading it. I'm not a religious person at all, but I've heard plenty of people's testimonies about the good feelings that it creates within you, and this book was kind of like that in a way.

Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch

I think the most obvious reason for this is Atticus Finch. Everybody likes Atticus. Everybody wants to have a dad like Atticus, and many of the people in our class have said they see parts of their fathers in Atticus. He's certainly one of the most inspiring characters. As a character, Atticus serves as a refreshing reminder that there are good people in this world too. Another reason why I liked Atticus so much was that I found his thoughts on courage to be particularly profound:

"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. Mrs Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her. According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She was the bravest person I ever knew."

I really took that quote to heart, and I actually almost ended up using that quote for my Neeley Fellows application.