Thursday, November 12, 2009

The White Castle

For Turkish literature I read The White Castle by Orhan Pamuk. Sadly, I wouldn't recommend this book. I didn't like reading it very much and I don't think I "get it." 

I was really sad to miss class last Thursday, first because I don't like missing class, second because I was sick as hell and wanted not to be, and third because I really wanted to talk to other people about this book. Your blogs helped a little, primarily Ashley's and Lisa's, but I still don't know what I think.

Perhaps I have what Marie calls "reader fatigue," but I thought reading this novel was annoying. The prose's absolute drudgery made it a slow read (which I can only hope was a device so the reader can share the main characters' long, drawn out experience), it was depressing (all that drama and animosity between the two main characters, neither of whom is a particularly good or interesting person), and the story line didn't seem to really go anywhere. 

I kept trying to make something of the novel. Maybe it was about the duality of man (I half expected the reveal to be that the two men were one). Maybe about social class. Maybe about ethnicity (East vs. West) and progress. Maybe about religion and progress. Maybe about colonization and superiority (E vs. W again).

I recognized many smaller pieces - symbols, the idea of identity, of reliance, of blame. But I was unable to stitch the pieces together into a coherent, overarching point.

In the end, I felt like I had just read Melville's "Bartleby, The Scrivner." I don't get it, I'm not going to reread it, and I'll never get that time back. Only Melville's story is better written and far shorter. At the very least, "I'd prefer not to" goes over well with lit. professors and has gotten me out of reading crappy "write a poem about Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez in five minutes, then we'll share with the class" activities in front of the class. (This is my way of ending on a good note.)

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The Bus Driver Who Wanted To Be God

Like almost everyone else in class, I really liked Etgar Keret's The Bus Driver Who Wanted to be God. At first I thought some of the stories didn't really have too much of a point, but after going back and looking again, I was pretty satisfied that they mostly all do. Mostly. As Carly says, though, I don't know how much some of the stories tell us about Israeli culture.

Since nearly everyone blogged about this book, I'm going to
try to keep this post short. I loved "A Souvenir of Hell," "Uterus" (to which I have a somewhat personal connection, believe it or not (the story, not the organ)), and "Breaking the Pig," which I thought was hilarious and ironic. That row of three was a great run for me. I'm also a big fan of "The Flying Santinis," which says, to me, a lot about striving for perfection and God's understanding nature.

While I was really disappointed to hear my classmates' bad reviews of Wristcutters: A Love Story, I think I may give it a chance, especially since Will Arnett is in it. I don't expect to particularly enjoy it after having read "Kneller's Happy Campers," but I'd like to see it just the same.

Off topic, I came across an old clip of Will Arnett hosting one of MTV's spring break things. He introduced Arrested Development. (If you don't know, Arnett went on, years later, to star in the fantastic series "Arrested Development.")

Carefully chosen, some of these stories could be great to use in secondary or early college classrooms. Some just provide thought and discussion provoking material ("Breaking the Pig," "Cocked and Locked" if you can deal with the language) (though the teacher may have to pull some ideas out and prompt students or give them questions/ideas to think about while reading), while others provide a specifically (or more powerful because it's) Israeli (or Jewish) perspective, such as "Shoes." The stories would also be great models for a creative writing classroom. Keret provides much to discuss in the way of style and voice. His quiet, absurd, and sometimes seemingly inappropriate humor can be a great perspective for young authors unfamiliar with that sort of thing (his writing reminds me David Sedaris's in this way).

Time of Favor/Paradise Now

  I took an assload (it's O.K., I have an English degree) of notes on Time of Favor. In fact, now that I'm going over them, I wish I had written my essay about the movie. I just find that there's so much to talk about. Especially comparatively. In many of the movies we've watched lately, rationality comes from outside the main group, from questioning. It comes from characters like Suha, Korvis, and Mookie (among others, of course, like Michal, but these illustrate my point). And in Time of Favor especially, questioning and doubt are huge themes.

But I won't talk about that or the 10 other themes I took notes on and for which I wrote down quotes. I want to talk about the suicide bombing in Time of Favor compared to the suicide bombing in Paradise Now.

To be perfectly straightforward, I'm not sure I'd classify Pini's action in Time of Favor as a suicide bombing. Yes, he was going to blow stuff up; yes, he would've died during the commission of that crime, but I think he used the suicide bombing as a cover for just plain ol' suicide.

In Paradise Now, Said and Khaled chose  to become suicide bombers for a variety of reasons. They believed in martyrdom, they believed it was the only way to fight the Israelis, they each wanted to atone for the sins of their fathers. And they were, to a degree at least, manipulated by Jamal and Abu-Karem. In Time of Favor, the idea of fighting for Israel, of being a lion and not a dog (see Philip's blog) is first presented by Rabbi Meltzer. But Pini takes this idea and twists it until it is not only far from what the rabbi presented, but until it no longer has any real tie to faith. Pini uses this idea to lie to and manipulate his friend Itamar because he knows Itamar will go along with "the rabbi's plan."

Where Said and Khaled are ashamed of their fathers and want to make up for their shortcomings, Pini is ashamed of himself because Michal does not want him. He wants to hide from his shame. Said and Khaled think they will find martyrdom and glory, but want to bomb because they see it as a way to fight for Palestine, for thousands of dead and displaced civilians. They see it as a way to fight against an enemy with better training, more money, better weapons, and who is seen by many as the conflict's hero. But Pini manipulates Itamar so that blame for the bombing will be placed on Menachem, so that Menachem will be shamed. Pini tells only Michal of his plan (the bombing, not the additionally shameful manipulation of Itamar) because he thinks she will be proud of him for displaying his "lion-like qualities," for "defending his religion." Then he kills Itamar (presumably so that Pini's secret manipulation dies with Itamar). Pini is using the guise of a faithful suicide bombing to cover his desire to commit the sin of suicide. Through this act, he wishes to gain the admiration of the woman who did not love him, place blame for murder on Menachem, the man Michal loved, and commit suicide to hide from his personal shame (or inability to deal with rejection of the beloved rabbi's daughter and possibly, as a result, the rabbi). To this end, he manipulates, connives, and murders.

While I recognize that suicide bombing (any bombing, really) is neither good nor glorious, the mindset of the characters in Paradise Now present it as a path to atonement, martyrdom, and service to the country. In Time of Favor, Pini uses these ideals to try to cover up his shortcomings so he can kill himself and try to pretend he did so for a cause.

While I don't doubt that Pini is devout and dedicated to the Jewish faith, I don't think a full argument can be made that makes religion his primary motive in his action. He wants revenge, pity, and admiration - glory. That he got the idea from Rabbi Meltzer's sermon is secondary here (when discussing Pini - the rabbi's a whole other topic). I don't see how Pini is motivated to the act by religion or devotion, only that he uses that idea to manipulate Itamar and try to manipulate Michal.

Each of these movies is great on its own, each is rich in commentary and symbolism, each can be written about at length. But together, they could provide secondary students a strong starting point for conversations or essays, for critical thinking about difficult and touchy topics.

Beaufort

I'd like to begin by saying, because it's totally out of context with the rest of this post, that I'm pretty sure that in one of the last scenes in the barracks, when they're making sure everything's all wired to blow, there's a small (4-inches by 6-inches or so, maybe even a sticker) U.S. flag taped to the wall bordering one of the beds. Make of it what you will. Remember that Israel gets U.S. funding, but in the movie Hezbollah is using U.S. manufactured weapons.

Now, what I liked about this movie was that it had a sense of humor. A relatively sarcastic sense of humor, which I especially enjoy. For example, at the beginning, Ziv gets up at night to go find Liraz (Liraz wants to talk to Ziv) and gets all turned around. Ziv stumbles upon two soldiers guarding what I think is "Green," where everyone later gets killed. (Forgive me, I didn't write down which two soldiers he meets here.) The three then have a conversation about what a good time they're having at Beaufort and joke about what the relationship between the two guards may be. There's kind of a couched humor throughout, but I appreciate it.

Liraz is an interesting character, but I think Korvis, his foil (if that term is applicable to film), is far more interesting. Korvis, always smoking, is outraged when Ziv dies. He is emotional but strong and logical. When Zitlawi is injured and Korvis is trying to save him, Oshri tries to come join them but is shot. Liraz freezes, he can't help his soldier. Korvis has to leave Zitlawi, run out into shelling and gunfire, and carry Oshri in to save him. Near the movie's end, when the castle is wired to be blown and command tells Liraz that he and his troops must remain another dangerous night at Beaufort, Liraz refuses to stand up for his soldiers. Korvis says to Liraz of his inaction: "I deserve a commander who can [demand to leave]. We all do. Ziv, Zitlawi, shpitzor, Oshri. They deserved a better commander than you." And when they finally blow the castle up and move out, Korvis's first action is to call his mom. Seriously. Respect.

A Lake Beyond The Wind, by Yahya Yakhlif

I felt like the odd man out with this book. Several people in our group enjoyed it, but I really liked it. Granted, a little was lost in translation, but that's to be expected.

I found the characters and imagery rich and full and much of the prose was just beautiful. One of the problems some people had was that sometimes, although the narrator changed, the voice did not. The book has two narrators: the nameless, omniscient speaker, and Abd al-Rahman the Iraqi. (Some will argue that, and the book is billed as if, one chapter is narrated by Wolf, the dog. Well, one chapter follows Wolf around and relates what he sees and thinks, but the speaker is the omniscient narrator, not Wolf. If nothing else, the pronoun "he" (referring to the dog) gives this away.)

But back to voice. I concede that the difference in voice between narrators is somewhat diminished by lack of colloquialism and slang (one narrator is Iraqi, the other presumably Palestinian) and translation probably muted some sentence structure. But I found al-Rahman's narration to be somewhat richer, thus identifiable. For instance:
I emerged from the furnace of the desert. From between the grains of sand. The winds surrendered me to the winds, and the frost nipped my nose and the tips of my fingers.
I'd ridden in a hired car from Baghdad to the al-Habbaniyyeh crossroads. Then, for countless numbers of hours, I'd walked. No luggage and no passport. Still I'd walked, avoiding the police patrols. I was thirsty. The desert, heavy with the iciness of January, spat me out. (53)
I read this passage with the tone of voice and flow I would use to read poetry. I love the variety of sentence length and structure. I love the staccato effect at which some of the sentences hint (which is further developed and used to move the story along in the novel). I love the images.

Additionally, only al-Rahman's narration (which is first person) contains within it stories told by others from a first person perspective. Narrative within narrative within narrative.

I was also struck by the fact that (and probably biased by) animals are often used to show the character of A Lake Beyond The Wind's inhabitants. Now, animal imagery and symbolism (especially birds - they're everywhere) abounds in this book. But there are specific instances where Yakhlif explicitly connects kindness to and respect for animals to the fact that a character is a good person. No other explanation is offered. That a person has reverence for animals is enough, in this book, to prove his (and her) good nature.

At any rate, I really enjoyed this book not just for its historical perspective, but for its richness, for its full, relatable characters. I'd read it again. But I don't know if I'd use it with 9th or 10th graders. Honestly, I think there'd need to be some reading aloud and lots of discussion to make sure the the prose remained viable for younger students. It certainly offers fodder for A.P. papers (symbolism, voice) and for any study of colonialism, the Palestine/Israel situation, general discussions of war.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Justice Richard Goldstone

Bill Moyers's interview with Justice Richard Goldstone.

The video (part I) is just over 21 minutes long. It's a two parter, and part II is available by link at the top of the page and by link just below part I.

At the beginning of the video, when Moyers is talking about all the things Goldstone has done, I thought of Etgar Keret's story "Good Intentions." I don't know any more about Justice Goldstone than is presented in the interview, but just the notion of a person spending all those years trying to find a way to even come remotely close to finding justice for such a number of atrocities makes me wonder how much weight he feels.

This is really a great interview. If you've got the time you should at least watch part of the interview.