Modern Day Walden

I found this article in the NYT magazine on my driveway this morning. I posted the link - it seemes like these people are a true example of living deliberately, and they are forced to face the realities of life. Thought it was really pertinent to class.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/magazine/06Squatters-t.html?ref=magazine
So do you guys think these guys are truly modern-day romatics? How closely do they adhere to Thoreau's ideas/the values of Romanticism?
-emily

Was the Transcendentalist Movement a Failure?

Over the last two classes, we've been discussing whether the transcendentalist movement was just one big glorious failure. I think we all came to a general consensus that the movement's lofty idealism is what made it unsuccessful. However, does this mean that transcendentalism has failed to make an impact on society?
The movement at its most extreme certainly seems to be highly unrealistic. By just looking at Thoreau's Walden experiment, we see that pure individualism and independence are unobtainable (apparently, Thoreau's mother brought him food and did his laundry over the course of his stay at Walden Pond). Furthermore, Thoreau himself admitted that his attempt at being self-sufficient was a failure. However, does this mean that transcendentalism can be rejected as a valid philosophy? Or does the movement still have merits despite its huge flaws?

-Bryce C.

Thoughts?

This is that poem that I was failing to quote today in class. Jeffers and Thoreau are definitely not on the same page. Thoreau suggests that civil disobedience is the best, if not the only, way to bring about change. Jeffers supports violence as an agent of change. Who do you guys agree with?

The Bloody Sire

POEM VIEWS: 13350

Although closely associated with the California coast, Jeffers was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and spent much of his boyhood at boarding

. . . MORE »

BY ROBINSON JEFFERS

It is not bad. Let them play.

Let the guns bark and the bombing-plane

Speak his prodigious blasphemies.

It is not bad, it is high time,

Stark violence is still the sire of all the world’s values.

What but the wolf’s tooth whittled so fine

The fleet limbs of the antelope?

What but fear winged the birds, and hunger

Jewelled with such eyes the great goshawk’s head?

Violence has been the sire of all the world’s values.

Who would remember Helen’s face

Lacking the terrible halo of spears?

Who formed Christ but Herod and Caesar,

The cruel and bloody victories of Caesar?

Violence, the bloody sire of all the world’s values.

Never weep, let them play,

Old violence is not too old to beget new values.

http://poetryoutloud.org/poems/poem.html?id=11973

-Colin

The Value of Transcendentalism

Today we were talking about whether or not Emerson would have considered his work and transcendentalism a "success." Is success measured in terms of practical application of an idea or in terms popularity? I think we agree that transcendentalism, while not necessarily a commonly followed idea, is certainly more popular than it is practical. However, if success is something concrete, then the most accurate way to gauge success is by looking at application, the only tangible aspect of philosophy. No one in class today seemed to think that idealist movements like transcendentalism could be applied to the real world, so how can one can one begin to measure their merit?

And if we can't measure their merit, is there a point in looking at them at all?

-Colin

Emerson on Children

When I was reading "Self-Reliance," Emerson's ideas pertaining to children caught my attention. R.W.E. makes the point that children are perhaps the most self-reliant people. Unlike adults, children aren't bound by social customs and mannerisms, and are instead free to act as they see fit. Furthermore, children are free to make judgments without regard to "consequences" and "interests."
While I think Emerson made some valid points, his idea as a whole seems counterintuitive to me for a couple reasons. First, when I was a child I know for a fact that I was anything but self-reliant. My parents had to do everything for me, and even now I'm still dependent on them for plenty of things. Next, while children may not be bound by customs, they are in many cases not knowledgeable enough to make good decisions and fair judgments. To label this ignorance as independence, as Emerson does, is foolish.
-Bryce C.

More peer editing for my poem?

Hey! I was wondering if any of you had any more suggestions for my poem. If you could critique it, that'd be great, thanks!

-- Tori

“I sometimes cannot find the words for what I feel.” – Billy Budd

From His Perspective, Maybe

Silence.

Always silence.

From the time the sun’s rays slash my eyelids in early morning

To the time I gaze at the slit of moonlight

That pierces the jagged edges through the shades.

Colors chop the light,

The halting, uneven movement of her lips,

The pixels of blood red and tainted pink.

They tell me that the mouth forms words

But I only know this from a priori sources,

Never a posteriori experiences.

In my mind, I can almost imagine

A different life,

A different me...

A different world in which I can

Almost smell the sounds

That exit the sharp angles of her mouth,

Almost feel the noises

That shove the air molecules around;

If only.

They say that silence is “deafening.”

One word.

One word, one meaning.

One word, one meaning, one million shattered feelings.

They don’t know how much it hurts.

I wish I could explain how caustic, how biting

The meaning behind that word is to me.

She, tireless, patient,

Sympathetic, but not empathetic.

Never empathetic.

I love her.

But, sometimes,

I resent her.

She can hear.

I was a cracked, unfilled glass cup before.

Then she sloshed into me

All the words I know

And she overflowed me

With all the possible gestures I can use

To express myself.

But she doesn’t know.

I may be full to the brim,

But I am still broken, lonely and empty.

And when anyone gets too close, I cut them

On my jagged edges.

And so, even with years of gaining more words,

More twists of the fingers,

More bends of the arms,

More turns of the hand,

I still don’t know enough

To express myself.

Billy Bud and A Few Good Men

In class today, we discussed the idea of shunting emotional desires and emotional reasoning aside in favor of the law. This discussion reminded me of a movie that I had just been watching in my debate class. The movie, A Few Good Men, deals with many of the same themes as Billy Bud. It centers around the debate concerning whether orders should take precedence over personal choice, especially in a military setting.

The main difference between the ideas behind the two films is that A Few Good Men completely condemns the idea of following orders and ignoring emotional instincts. Billy Bud, seems to be far more ambiguous, especially during the captain's argument to his fellow jurors. Should orders be allowed to take precedence, especially in regards to the military? Was it the captain of The Avenger or Tom Cruise who was right?

Tara

Artificial Intelligence

Today we were talking about some of the things what can be done with technology in recent times, and I remembered seeing this Video on YouTube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9ByGQGiVMg

What do you think? I know that Asimo is not the only robot capable of learning (nor do I think he is the most advanced). Should we be doing this? I can't help but wonder whether we are playing god, or simply making a strange form of child...

-Melissa

For those interested...

This is the introduction to my research paper so far:

http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AYt0U46uX1OXZGduMms2OTdfMzFmOXp6cWpocw&hl=en

Comments/critiques are appreciated!
-emily

Windows

Poe spends a lot of time describing the rooms and I thought his detailed description of the windows of the rooms was symbolic. Does anybody know what windows may symbolize?

-Joanne Park

There is a fair amount of personification in The Masque of the Red Death. Poe makes characters out of objects or ideas like death, the clock, and dreams. Death is a relatively common personification, and deliberately and overtly portrayed. But Poe more subtly depicts the clock as having "brazen lungs" and a voice. Dreams, too, are personified in that they can stand, stalk, take steps, live, and "writhe to and fro... merrily." However, only Death has any major impact on the plot of the story. The others seem to have no purpose except to enhance the story stylistically, like the themes of colors, time, and sounds.

-- tori

The Red Death = Tuberculosis?

As I was reading "The Masque of the Red Death," I couldn't help but remember how Poe's wife Virginia died of tuberculosis. Perhaps Poe's personal experiences with disease and death had an impact on how and why this story was written. Thoughts?

-Bryce C.

The Cask of Amontillado

On Friday, we talked about why Montresor never said what it was that Fortunato had done to anger him to the point of murder. I think that Montresor's omitting this is extremely interesting. I don't know whether Poe intended this or not, but I think the omission adds something to the story that we didn't talk about: it makes it harder for the reader to justify (or not justify) Montresor's actions. Had the insult of Fortunato been mentioned, I think the reader would have felt either more or less inclined to side with Montresor. If Fortunato's insult had been something terrrible, the reader might have seen the murder as more deserved. By the same token, if the insult had been something small and undeserving of murder, the reader would have been even more appalled by Fortunato's death. What do you guys think?

~Elizabeth

Longfellow and Dreams

I know this was last unit, but I forgot to blog about this earlier. In Longfellow's A Psalm of Life in the first stanza, "life is but an empty dream!" reminded me of "life is but a dream" in the childhood song, Row, Row, Row Your Boat. I mentioned it to Emily and she noted how Row, Row, Row Your Boat is often sung in canon and canons are supposed to be never-ending. It made me think about how Romantics write about death and the end of life. And if you've ever tried to sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat in canon with anybody, it mostly ends in giggles and catastrophe.

The metaphor that life is a dream in both the poem and song also suggests that dreams end, life ends, and we can't live in dreams forever. Rip Van Winkle may have lived in dreams for 18 years, but his stupor eventually ended. The Romantics were very invested in the idea of life turning into a sleeping death, and the dream idea goes well with it. Dreams occur when we sleep, and sleeping is like being dead ("For the soul is dead that slumbers"), so is he saying life is death? That would be the ultimate paradoxical statement.

-- tori

Don't ask me where I find these things.

Poe

What's his problem? Mrs. Lopez was saying that the dark nature of his writing can be traced to his dismal relationships with women, but I'm not seeing it. If that were true, shouldn't there be more women involved in his stories? Just thinking of his more famous pieces, I don't find many women involved (e.g. Tell Tale Heart, Cask of Amontillado, The Fall of the House of Usher, The Pit and the Pendulum). Where does all the negativity come from?

-Colin

The Afterlife

From the Romantic poems we've read so far, I've noticed that the afterlife has definitely been an important topic. In "Thanatopsis," Bryant discusses how after death, one "shalt lie down with patriarchs of the infant world." Thus, after death every person becomes equal, regardless of their economic or social class in life. Again, in Longfellow's "A Psalm of Life," the idea of the afterlife is introduced. In this poem, Longfellow urges the reader to recognize that death is not bad, but merely a transition into another life.
My question is, why were the Romantics so obsessed with the afterlife? Was there obsession with it simply a rejection of neoclassical rationalism? Or were they trying to embrace religion?

-Bryce C.

Crevecoeur and El Greco

In Spanish class, we've been perusing the artists of the Golden Age, and are currently watching a video on El Greco. He was a Spanish painter, but was born under a Greek name in Greece. In his early years, he studied Renaissance painters such as Rafael and Michelangelo, and attempted to mimic their styles rather than the Byzatine style of his native Greece. But after moving to Spain and living in Toledo for a number of years, historians say that he finally developed his true "El Greco" style. Interestingly, it was unlike the Renaissance painters' works that he had studied for so long, but was rather more similar to Byzantine works.

I found this to be an interesting parallel to Crevecoer. Crevecoer, though not a native of America, considered himself (somewhat) to be an American and seemed to find his personal identity here rather than in his native France. It seems as though both men "found" themselves and developed a true sense of identity outside of their native land. What do you guys think of this?

Does Crevecoeur Consider Himself an American?

This was an interesting question that was posed in class a few days ago, so I just wanted to extend the discussion. Personally, I feel that Crevocoeur does consider himself somewhat of an American, as evidenced by his use of the "we" device. However, at other times his pronoun usage is questionable which leaves me to wonder just how strongly he feels about his identity. What do you guys feel about this?

-Bryce C.

Crevecoeur's Definition of American

In class today, we discussed how St. John Crevecoeur defined an American, and whether or not he considered himself to be one. From what I have interpreted, I believe he defines an American based on the individual's desire to work hard in order to become successful, his or her desire for justice, and his or her pursuit for property.

Most importantly, however, I believe Crevecoeur claimed that anyone who decided to journey to America--no matter what nationality he or she was--had already cast aside his or her past ties and created a new one: that of a "new race of men," as he puts it. This "new race of men" was the welcoming of everyone from different races to America. Crevecoeur states that men from "all nations are melted into a new race" when his "labours and posterity will one day cause great changes in the world." Therefore, it is not the nationality of a man that makes him more or less an American, but rather his aspiration to be a hard-working, free man of the New World, and his achievements from such hard work and perseverance.

-Chloe Martianou