A good novel often challenges the concept of reality as we know it and compels us to find a greater truth than factual certainty. If we are caught up in the story, then we look through the lens of verisimilitude without doubt or question. I consider Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones compelling, but I found it increasingly difficult to suspend my disbelief as I neared the end of the book. Heaven is not represented in a manner consistent with my faith, and the temporary exchange of Susie’s soul for Ruth’s is beyond my scope of understanding or belief.
When Susie “falls back to the earth,” she realizes that she is not there to “chase after Mr. Harvey. I looked at Ray and knew why I was there. To take back a piece of heaven I had never known” (304). Really?? While many would agree that making love can be heavenly, can it really compare to Heaven itself? Most of the book brings the majesty of Heaven into question since Susie longs for her life on Earth. She watches her family and yearns for them. She fantasizes about Ray. She goes so far as to comment about life on Earth by saying, “Lonely, I thought, on Earth as it is in heaven.” Surely it is no oversight by Alice Sebold that Earth is capitalized, and heaven is not, an implication that her belief in the afterlife might differ from the predominantly Christian view of our culture. Even non-Christians would have to wonder about the advantage of going to Heaven if it is the heaven described in this book. It might seem great to have your favorite things replicated in the afterlife, but shouldn’t there be something more to hope for? If not, what is the incentive to make sacrifices in this life? Certainly the idea of a fourteen-year-old girl desiring to make love more than anything else seems contrary to the very idea of Heaven as it was originally defined.
Susie’s love for her family is easier for me to understand, but even then it is not the selfless love we might think of as heavenly. Knowing how desperately her little brother needs their father, his only real parent, Susie thinks to herself: “If he died, I would have him forever. Was this so wrong to want? … We stood – the dead child and the living – on either side of my father, both wanting the same thing. To have him to ourselves forever” (258). If Susie is in Heaven, isn’t she living a perfect existence? Why is she still unsatisfied and self-serving in her thinking?
True love is portrayed by Grandma Lynn, the alcoholic, ironically, since she is the one character who consistently looks out for others. She became my favorite when she applied Lindsey’s make-up for the memorial service, which meant she had to go without her own. Grandma Lynn is flawed, but she is spunky and caring. By the end of the book, Abigail learns to appreciate her mother as she thinks to herself, “When was it all right to let go not only of the dead but of the living – to learn to accept?” (318). Acceptance and love are healing to those who love and accept as well as those who receive love and acceptance.
Buckley is a sympathetic and likable character who enhances the theme of love. As a small boy, he is his father’s consolation: “Buckley drew back and stared at my father’s creased face, the fine bright spots of tears at the corners of his eyes. He nodded seriously and kissed my father’s cheek. Something so divine…the care a child took with an adult” (47). Buckley’s devotion to his father is unwavering until his father refuses to let him use Susie’s clothes in the garden. Buckley, finally frustrated, says, “You have to choose. It’s not fair” (256). I believe this scene is significant in its portrayal of grief. It is often those who are still alive who bring grieving loved ones back to life. However, the author seems to suggest something altogether different. Susie says, “You don’t notice the dead leaving when they really choose to leave you. You’re not meant to” (323). Is it the choice of the dead as the book claims? Franny, a mother figure in heaven, tells Susie that neither she nor the living will be ready to move on until she is done with the living. I see death and the afterlife much differently, but I agree that grief is the only option for those who lose a loved one.
Grief is a compelling theme in the novel, but I was distracted by the lack of verisimilitude in the plot and the narration. I simply could not suspend disbelief regarding Susie and Ray or concerning the descriptions of heaven. I felt eager to finish the book because I wanted the murder mystery to be solved, but even that fell short of my expectations. I wanted to know more about Mr. Harvey, but his accidental death by the foreshadowed icicle left me feeling unsatisfied…but probably not as much as a heaven that makes one wish for life on Earth.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Jemima Jones Journal
“But fairy tales can come true, and just like Jemima Jones, or Mrs. Ben Williams as she’s known outside the glossy magazine where she now works, if we trust ourselves, embrace our faults, and brazen it out with courage, strength, bravery, and truth, fate may just smile upon us too” (Green 373). The closing words of Jane Green’s Jemima Jones clarify one of the themes for those who may have skimmed over it or somehow missed the blatant references to it. In case Jemima herself does not reveal the themes to the reader, the third person interruptions explain the obvious. The book is not only par for “Chick Lit,” but also standard as a fairy tale with the perfectly happy ending. However, this fairy tale will not scare the children into listening to Mommy and Daddy, and there will be no bread crumb trail for girls to leave if they fly across the globe to meet men they don’t really know.
The Jemima fairy tale ends happily in every way despite the risks she takes. The book is perhaps one level above a Harlequin romance and probably akin to a Nora Roberts novel. Jemima’s reunion with Ben proves to be every bit as sappy: “‘Jemima,’ he whispers, as the smile leaves my face, and then, without planning it, thinking about it, we both stand up at exactly the same time and fall into one another’s arms” (354). And presumably the reader says, “Aaaaah” on the exhale as she cocks her head sweetly to the side. How sweet…the man who always valued her friendship now desires Jemima romantically…now that she is thin.
The messages in this book about perfect physiques, anorexic-like dieting, internet dating, and conditional love are dangerous ideas to support. The perfect “hard bodies” and unhealthy dieting represented in Jemima’s story duplicate what the covers of all the glamour magazines are already telling young females: You must be waif-like and flawless in order to be beautiful. While the romantic fantasy of “Chick Lit” is probably harmless, the messages about beauty are reprehensible. The American culture inundates females with the message that thin is beautiful, and imperfect bodies are unattractive, which drives some young girls to unhealthy extremes as Jemima exemplifies when she turns down a lunch date with Ben: “…Jemima would not have been able to make it to the gym tonight, so she skips lunch and exercises during her lunch break instead” (152). While exercising during lunch is not unhealthy in and of itself, Jemima’s visits to the gym occur more than once a day. “Might it be thus assumed that Jemima has become just a touch obsessive…” (152). Jemima’s diet and exercise regime become unhealthy as the third person narrator points out.
Both the third person narrator and Jemima explain too much as if they fear the reader is not sharp enough to understand the themes without help. For example, while in the book store, Jemima thinks, “Covers, so many covers, so many different, delectable pictures, and although, metaphorically speaking, it is the thing I hate most, when it comes to literature I always judge books by their covers” (52). Jemima’s thought opposes the superficiality about beauty in the story, but it is also a great irony since the cover of this book shows a scantily clad rear end, bare legs, and stiletto heels. The legs are positioned in the pose of a sex kitten, suggesting a much more tawdry story than the one underneath the cover. Despite the irony, Jemima’s thoughts in this scene begin the theme development that is summarized on the last page of the book.
The summarized theme refers to “courage, strength, bravery, and truth” (373). I have to wonder whether flying to meet Brad proves that Jemima is brave or foolhardy. Internet dating is dangerous because people can easily misrepresent themselves. Since this book falls into the “Chick Lit” genre, we can safely assume before we finish reading that Jemima will not be chopped into bits and stored in sandwich bags in Brad’s freezer. Then again, the fact that she comes out of the situation unscathed promotes internet dating as a safe and healthy way for young girls to find boyfriends. Jemima is not only safe at the end of it, but better for her experience. She learns that beautiful Brad loves overweight women, she wins the love of her heartthrob, Ben, and she lands the job of her dreams.
Sure, there are positive messages in the book about the confidence gained through healthy eating and exercise, but what does this book say about love? Did Ben love Jemima all along from the time he began confiding in her? Or did he only fall in love with her when he saw that she was thin and beautiful? Traditional fairy tales usually offer a moral to the story that teaches children about safety, justice, etc. This fairy tale is truly a fantasy with no moral to the story. The dangers of internet dating are not exposed, and Jemima’s anorexic tendencies simply go away. Jemima Jones is mildly entertaining, but it is not a book that promotes healthy attitudes for young chicks.
The Jemima fairy tale ends happily in every way despite the risks she takes. The book is perhaps one level above a Harlequin romance and probably akin to a Nora Roberts novel. Jemima’s reunion with Ben proves to be every bit as sappy: “‘Jemima,’ he whispers, as the smile leaves my face, and then, without planning it, thinking about it, we both stand up at exactly the same time and fall into one another’s arms” (354). And presumably the reader says, “Aaaaah” on the exhale as she cocks her head sweetly to the side. How sweet…the man who always valued her friendship now desires Jemima romantically…now that she is thin.
The messages in this book about perfect physiques, anorexic-like dieting, internet dating, and conditional love are dangerous ideas to support. The perfect “hard bodies” and unhealthy dieting represented in Jemima’s story duplicate what the covers of all the glamour magazines are already telling young females: You must be waif-like and flawless in order to be beautiful. While the romantic fantasy of “Chick Lit” is probably harmless, the messages about beauty are reprehensible. The American culture inundates females with the message that thin is beautiful, and imperfect bodies are unattractive, which drives some young girls to unhealthy extremes as Jemima exemplifies when she turns down a lunch date with Ben: “…Jemima would not have been able to make it to the gym tonight, so she skips lunch and exercises during her lunch break instead” (152). While exercising during lunch is not unhealthy in and of itself, Jemima’s visits to the gym occur more than once a day. “Might it be thus assumed that Jemima has become just a touch obsessive…” (152). Jemima’s diet and exercise regime become unhealthy as the third person narrator points out.
Both the third person narrator and Jemima explain too much as if they fear the reader is not sharp enough to understand the themes without help. For example, while in the book store, Jemima thinks, “Covers, so many covers, so many different, delectable pictures, and although, metaphorically speaking, it is the thing I hate most, when it comes to literature I always judge books by their covers” (52). Jemima’s thought opposes the superficiality about beauty in the story, but it is also a great irony since the cover of this book shows a scantily clad rear end, bare legs, and stiletto heels. The legs are positioned in the pose of a sex kitten, suggesting a much more tawdry story than the one underneath the cover. Despite the irony, Jemima’s thoughts in this scene begin the theme development that is summarized on the last page of the book.
The summarized theme refers to “courage, strength, bravery, and truth” (373). I have to wonder whether flying to meet Brad proves that Jemima is brave or foolhardy. Internet dating is dangerous because people can easily misrepresent themselves. Since this book falls into the “Chick Lit” genre, we can safely assume before we finish reading that Jemima will not be chopped into bits and stored in sandwich bags in Brad’s freezer. Then again, the fact that she comes out of the situation unscathed promotes internet dating as a safe and healthy way for young girls to find boyfriends. Jemima is not only safe at the end of it, but better for her experience. She learns that beautiful Brad loves overweight women, she wins the love of her heartthrob, Ben, and she lands the job of her dreams.
Sure, there are positive messages in the book about the confidence gained through healthy eating and exercise, but what does this book say about love? Did Ben love Jemima all along from the time he began confiding in her? Or did he only fall in love with her when he saw that she was thin and beautiful? Traditional fairy tales usually offer a moral to the story that teaches children about safety, justice, etc. This fairy tale is truly a fantasy with no moral to the story. The dangers of internet dating are not exposed, and Jemima’s anorexic tendencies simply go away. Jemima Jones is mildly entertaining, but it is not a book that promotes healthy attitudes for young chicks.
Monday, May 5, 2008
The Power and the Glory
"....for the kingdom, the power and the glory are Yours, now and forever. Amen." Following the Lord's Prayer with this line has been a part of every Sunday since I was a child. Graham Greene’s title immediately suggests that the power and the glory, which belong to God, are being questioned. I think it adds to the title to consider other lines of the prayer, such as, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” The “whiskey priest” both seeks and offers forgiveness through the sacrament of confession. However, he reveals the quandary of the confessional: if a person is not truly sorry, then he cannot confess the sin. If he cannot confess the sin, then how can he be forgiven for the transgression? The “whiskey priest” is not sorry that he has a daughter because he loves her deeply, so he cannot bring himself to confess her conception as a sin because he is not sorry that he brought her into the world. He says to her, “I love you. I am your father and I love you. Try to understand that. I would give my life, that’s nothing, my soul…my dear, dear, try to understand that you are – so important” (82). His words would be moving except that his actions do not support his words.
His daughter seems to doubt the sincerity of his words. “She sat there on the trunk of the tree by the rubbish-tip with an effect of abandonment. The world was in her heart already, like the small spot of decay in a fruit” (81). The priest is saddened by her lack of faith in him or in life, but he lacks the courage to be a good father to her just as he lacks the courage to be a good Father to the Catholic congregation at large. Even in prayer he is not really honest when “He prayed silently, ‘O God, give me any kind of death –without contrition, in a state of sin – only save this child’” (82). Again his words seem hollow since he leaves his daughter, contemplates the possibility of confessing and makes an act of contrition before his death. In another sin against a child, he also allows a boy to be taken hostage rather than stepping forward and identifying himself as a priest. The most unbelievable aspect of that scene is the fact that the boy’s own mother allows her son to be taken to be killed rather than identifying the priest. The priest is only human, and a flawed human at that, so how can his life be greater in importance than another life, especially the innocent life of a child? For me, this scene is far more despicable than his drinking.
The lack of contentment that leads to his drinking suggests a lack of faith as well. If he needs to numb himself in order to tolerate life, he must not see the power and glory of God. He feels a certain sense of duty as a priest, particularly to hear people’s confessions. He needs a confessor, so he sees the importance of providing that sacrament. However, he is incapable of confessing. Juxtaposed with a greater coward, Padre Jose, the “whiskey priest” seems as if he might redeem himself, but he never quite does that. Yes, he goes back to hear the confession of the Yankee with the knowledge that the mestizo is leading him to his death, but it feels more like resignation on his part than an honorable act. He does not appear to be accepting his death as a dutiful priest as much as he seems to be giving up.
The whiskey priest offers little hope, but he does expose important questions of faith. I think questioning faith can make it stronger as in the case of the little boy who considers converting to the lieutenant’s way of thinking, but decides that his mother is right about priests. That little boy’s acceptance of the priest at the end of the book implies that killing priests will not put Catholicism to death. Faith cannot be buried. Confession, a sacrament in the Catholic faith, is significant in the spiritual journey: “...Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power and the glory are Yours for ever and ever. Amen.”
His daughter seems to doubt the sincerity of his words. “She sat there on the trunk of the tree by the rubbish-tip with an effect of abandonment. The world was in her heart already, like the small spot of decay in a fruit” (81). The priest is saddened by her lack of faith in him or in life, but he lacks the courage to be a good father to her just as he lacks the courage to be a good Father to the Catholic congregation at large. Even in prayer he is not really honest when “He prayed silently, ‘O God, give me any kind of death –without contrition, in a state of sin – only save this child’” (82). Again his words seem hollow since he leaves his daughter, contemplates the possibility of confessing and makes an act of contrition before his death. In another sin against a child, he also allows a boy to be taken hostage rather than stepping forward and identifying himself as a priest. The most unbelievable aspect of that scene is the fact that the boy’s own mother allows her son to be taken to be killed rather than identifying the priest. The priest is only human, and a flawed human at that, so how can his life be greater in importance than another life, especially the innocent life of a child? For me, this scene is far more despicable than his drinking.
The lack of contentment that leads to his drinking suggests a lack of faith as well. If he needs to numb himself in order to tolerate life, he must not see the power and glory of God. He feels a certain sense of duty as a priest, particularly to hear people’s confessions. He needs a confessor, so he sees the importance of providing that sacrament. However, he is incapable of confessing. Juxtaposed with a greater coward, Padre Jose, the “whiskey priest” seems as if he might redeem himself, but he never quite does that. Yes, he goes back to hear the confession of the Yankee with the knowledge that the mestizo is leading him to his death, but it feels more like resignation on his part than an honorable act. He does not appear to be accepting his death as a dutiful priest as much as he seems to be giving up.
The whiskey priest offers little hope, but he does expose important questions of faith. I think questioning faith can make it stronger as in the case of the little boy who considers converting to the lieutenant’s way of thinking, but decides that his mother is right about priests. That little boy’s acceptance of the priest at the end of the book implies that killing priests will not put Catholicism to death. Faith cannot be buried. Confession, a sacrament in the Catholic faith, is significant in the spiritual journey: “...Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power and the glory are Yours for ever and ever. Amen.”
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Uncle Tom's Cabin 251-456
Eva St. Clare, is not only a Christ figure, but also an evangelist. Her given name, Evangeline, which means “bearer of good news” in Greek, immediately suggests that she will bring good news to other characters; that she will evangelize with the pure heart of a child. Her father confirms this thinking when he tells her, “O’ Evangeline! rightly named...hath not God made thee an evangel to me” (189). Eva brings many people closer to the good news, Christ. Two dynamic characters respond to Eva’s goodness, Miss Ophelia and Topsy, and these two characters appeal the most to me.
Miss Ophelia is the most realistic depiction of human nature in my mind. She is flawed, but she wishes she were not. She would like to believe that she is a good Christian woman who is not prejudiced, but the appearance of Topsy makes it increasingly difficult for her to maintain her position as unprejudiced. Her first reaction to Topsy clarifies her view of her: “Augustine, what in the world have you brought that thing in here for?” (246). Topsy is filthy dirty, and though she gives the appropriate “Yes, Mas’r” response, it is obvious that she is mocking both St. Clare and Miss Ophelia with “her wicked eyes twinkling as she spoke” (246). I must say, I fell in love with Topsy instantly! Despite being brutally abused by drunken masters, Topsy remains spunky and full of life.
When Topsy is caught with the gloves, and Miss Ophelia insists that she confess to her other thefts, Topsy creates stories of other stolen and destroyed items. When she is caught and asked why, she answers, “Cause I’s wicked, - I is. I’s mighty wicked” (253). Topsy’s view of herself is based on the abusive, drunken men who sold her to St. Clare. Her first glimpse of herself as someone of worth comes when Eva readily forgives her and promises her, “You’re going to be taken good care of, now. I’d rather give you anything of mine, than have you steal it” (254). Eva’s charitable nature influences Miss Ophelia. When Eva, the one person who loves Topsy, dies, Miss Ophelia is finally moved to compassion for the grieving Topsy. “Topsy, you poor child…don’t give up! I can love you, though I am not like that dear little child. I hope I’ve learnt something of Christ from her. I can love you; I do, and I’ll try to help you to grow up a good Christian girl” (306). Topsy is transformed by Eva’s love and advice, and she continues evolving with Miss Ophelia’s love. It is Miss Ophelia who fulfills Eva’s wish by freeing Topsy, a promise her father could not keep with Tom and the other slaves due to his sudden death. Miss Ophelia’s growth as a person (or character) inspires me. She brings hope to the book that others can make a similar conversion and learn to love all races.
Like Ophelia, I know that I am flawed. I am not as blind as slave owners to the sins I commit, and I am not as evil as Legree or Marie. I am simply imperfect. I hope that I am like Ophelia and able to see where I might improve. She is admirable in her ability to see the strength in Eva’s gentleness and to try to learn from it. She expresses her desire to learn “something of Christ” from Eva. Christians often acknowledge a more merciful and loving approach in the New Testament. However, the Old Testament shows that God loves even those who are imperfect. One of my favorite books is in the Old Testament, and I gave its name to my son, Jonah. The biblical Jonah does not obey God. Even when he goes against God, God still protects him. I am not a fundamentalist who believes that Jonah was literally swallowed by a whale, carried in its stomach, then spewed on to the shore; nonetheless, I believe in a loving God Who would go to such lengths to save even those who are imperfect. The characters of Miss Ophelia and Topsy speak to that idea. I don’t think we have to be perfect. I think we have to be open to loving and learning as Topsy and Miss Ophelia do in Uncle Tom's Cabin.
Miss Ophelia is the most realistic depiction of human nature in my mind. She is flawed, but she wishes she were not. She would like to believe that she is a good Christian woman who is not prejudiced, but the appearance of Topsy makes it increasingly difficult for her to maintain her position as unprejudiced. Her first reaction to Topsy clarifies her view of her: “Augustine, what in the world have you brought that thing in here for?” (246). Topsy is filthy dirty, and though she gives the appropriate “Yes, Mas’r” response, it is obvious that she is mocking both St. Clare and Miss Ophelia with “her wicked eyes twinkling as she spoke” (246). I must say, I fell in love with Topsy instantly! Despite being brutally abused by drunken masters, Topsy remains spunky and full of life.
When Topsy is caught with the gloves, and Miss Ophelia insists that she confess to her other thefts, Topsy creates stories of other stolen and destroyed items. When she is caught and asked why, she answers, “Cause I’s wicked, - I is. I’s mighty wicked” (253). Topsy’s view of herself is based on the abusive, drunken men who sold her to St. Clare. Her first glimpse of herself as someone of worth comes when Eva readily forgives her and promises her, “You’re going to be taken good care of, now. I’d rather give you anything of mine, than have you steal it” (254). Eva’s charitable nature influences Miss Ophelia. When Eva, the one person who loves Topsy, dies, Miss Ophelia is finally moved to compassion for the grieving Topsy. “Topsy, you poor child…don’t give up! I can love you, though I am not like that dear little child. I hope I’ve learnt something of Christ from her. I can love you; I do, and I’ll try to help you to grow up a good Christian girl” (306). Topsy is transformed by Eva’s love and advice, and she continues evolving with Miss Ophelia’s love. It is Miss Ophelia who fulfills Eva’s wish by freeing Topsy, a promise her father could not keep with Tom and the other slaves due to his sudden death. Miss Ophelia’s growth as a person (or character) inspires me. She brings hope to the book that others can make a similar conversion and learn to love all races.
Like Ophelia, I know that I am flawed. I am not as blind as slave owners to the sins I commit, and I am not as evil as Legree or Marie. I am simply imperfect. I hope that I am like Ophelia and able to see where I might improve. She is admirable in her ability to see the strength in Eva’s gentleness and to try to learn from it. She expresses her desire to learn “something of Christ” from Eva. Christians often acknowledge a more merciful and loving approach in the New Testament. However, the Old Testament shows that God loves even those who are imperfect. One of my favorite books is in the Old Testament, and I gave its name to my son, Jonah. The biblical Jonah does not obey God. Even when he goes against God, God still protects him. I am not a fundamentalist who believes that Jonah was literally swallowed by a whale, carried in its stomach, then spewed on to the shore; nonetheless, I believe in a loving God Who would go to such lengths to save even those who are imperfect. The characters of Miss Ophelia and Topsy speak to that idea. I don’t think we have to be perfect. I think we have to be open to loving and learning as Topsy and Miss Ophelia do in Uncle Tom's Cabin.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Uncle Tom's Cabin 1-250
"But who, sir, makes the trader? Who is most to blame? The enlightened, cultivated, intelligent man, who supports the system of which the trader is the inevitable result, or the poor trader himself? You make the public sentiment that calls for his trade, that debauches and depraves him, till he feels no shame in it; and in what are you better than he?" (138). While Haley is truly a despicable character, this quote speaks to the evil inherent in all aspects of slavery, including the Christian slave owner. Mr. Shelby appears to be a decent, Christian man, but he sells out his most trustworthy servant in order to hold on to his material possessions. St. Clare does not profess to be a Christian man, but he is for the most part a decent man and a loving father who is kind to his slaves. However, as the quote asserts, it is hard to say that Haley is so much worse than Shelby or St. Clare since all three support an evil system.
"Are you educated and he ignorant, you high and he low, you refined and he coarse, you talented and he simple?
In the day of a future Judgment, these very considerations may make it more tolerable for him than for you"(138). I believe these lines hold true in all walks of life. As the old saying goes, to whom much is given, much is expected. Or in the words of Spiderman, "With great power comes great responsibility." I feel that responsibility as an educator. Thank goodness I have no need to take a stand against slavery, but even today, I must take a stand against racism and other forms of discrimination. For those who know better to stand by idly is unconscionable.
I remember attending a party at a country club. A man I did not know well began to tell a joke. When it became clear that the joke would involve a white napkin and a pepper shaker, my friend quietly walked away from the group. I followed her. In that moment I was a follower, but I have been a leader ever since that learning experience. Because I know better, I believe I am held to a higher standard. I believe that I will answer for my actions on some judgment day, and I want to be able to say that like Eva, I loved all human beings. To allow that man to tell a joke that goes against my beliefs would "debauch and deprave him" or at least encourage him to "feel no shame in it." I have forever been grateful to my friend for her courage and for the lesson I learned with her. If good and decent people go along with things they know to be wrong, then evil will thrive.
As Maya Angelou says, "When you know better, do better." I learned that I am not unkind when I quietly walk away from a joke that is prejudice and mean. I know better. I believe it is the smallest things in life contribute to the bigger picture in life. I can't imagine being involved in a world where a child slave is abused as Topsy is in the book. I cannot fathom the horrors that the Jews faced during the Holocaust. The truth is that I probably cannot truly understand racism. What I can understand is that I must be stronger than Shelby or St. Clare in the face of evil. I can have the moral convictions of Mrs. Shelby and Mrs. Bird in a world where my female voice is heard.
"Are you educated and he ignorant, you high and he low, you refined and he coarse, you talented and he simple?
In the day of a future Judgment, these very considerations may make it more tolerable for him than for you"(138). I believe these lines hold true in all walks of life. As the old saying goes, to whom much is given, much is expected. Or in the words of Spiderman, "With great power comes great responsibility." I feel that responsibility as an educator. Thank goodness I have no need to take a stand against slavery, but even today, I must take a stand against racism and other forms of discrimination. For those who know better to stand by idly is unconscionable.
I remember attending a party at a country club. A man I did not know well began to tell a joke. When it became clear that the joke would involve a white napkin and a pepper shaker, my friend quietly walked away from the group. I followed her. In that moment I was a follower, but I have been a leader ever since that learning experience. Because I know better, I believe I am held to a higher standard. I believe that I will answer for my actions on some judgment day, and I want to be able to say that like Eva, I loved all human beings. To allow that man to tell a joke that goes against my beliefs would "debauch and deprave him" or at least encourage him to "feel no shame in it." I have forever been grateful to my friend for her courage and for the lesson I learned with her. If good and decent people go along with things they know to be wrong, then evil will thrive.
As Maya Angelou says, "When you know better, do better." I learned that I am not unkind when I quietly walk away from a joke that is prejudice and mean. I know better. I believe it is the smallest things in life contribute to the bigger picture in life. I can't imagine being involved in a world where a child slave is abused as Topsy is in the book. I cannot fathom the horrors that the Jews faced during the Holocaust. The truth is that I probably cannot truly understand racism. What I can understand is that I must be stronger than Shelby or St. Clare in the face of evil. I can have the moral convictions of Mrs. Shelby and Mrs. Bird in a world where my female voice is heard.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
My Name is Asher Lev: Part 2
“Every great artist is a man who has freed himself from his family, his nation, his race” (203). Asher remembers this quote from The Art Spirit, the book his mother brought to him from her professor. Asher also learns from the book that he must be careful of the influence of his community “for large bodies tend toward the leveling of individuality to a common consent” (202). Asher struggles with the need to stay within the parameters of his family and religious values, but in the end, he simply must express himself. From the beginning of the book, we know that Asher’s art and his strong sense of self will prevail. He reminds us several times, “I was introduced over and over again as Asher Lev, son of Reb Aryeh Lev” (319). Throughout Asher’s life he is known as the son of Aryeh Lev, but as early as six years of age, he asserts his independence. When his uncle refers to him as “a regular Chagall,” Asher turns and says, “No. My name is Asher Lev” (31). From his refusal to stop drawing to his refusal to move to Vienna, Asher consistently stands as an individual, but he is not without sensitivity. His compassion for his mother’s pain is as constant as his rebellion against his father’s lack of understanding. Nearly every scene of the book builds toward the climactic Crucifixion paintings, yet nothing prepares us for the painting or its unveiling.
Asher’s focus on his mother as his favorite subject in art begins at a tender young age when he draws her rowing a boat or spending time with him. Rivkeh wants him to draw a pretty world for her, but her depression does not create a pretty world for Asher. He begins to express what he really sees when he uses cigarette ashes as charcoal to capture the shadows in her depressed face. Later when he is faced with the loss of his mother as she prepares to move to Europe, Jacob Kahn tells him, “Your feelings about your mother are producing terrible art” (240). His art turns malevolent as he emulates Michelangelo’s Last Judgment with the face of the bully from school, but his ability to express his feelings deepens. Once he has dealt with that anger, his preoccupation returns to mother and child paintings. It is not surprising that his masterpieces end up including his mother and her anguish as the focal point, but the brilliance of the book is the mental gasp that is caused by visual image of his mother with her arms outstretched along the window blinds in a crucifixion pose.
Even though we are told on the first page of the book that Asher Lev painted the Brooklyn Crucifixion, nothing prepared me for the scene when he finally expresses the anguish that he sees in his mother. Asher’s fixation on the paintings of the Crucifixion of Jesus also foreshadow his masterpieces, but at the time when he was emulating crucifixion paintings from the museum, he was also relating to the darkness and cold that Yudel Krinsky must have felt in Siberia. Asher lived a cold and lonely childhood while his parents sacrificed everything in order to follow their passion of saving innocent Jews and building yeshivas. Asher followed their example and sacrificed everything for his passion. It is ironic that Christians see the Crucifixion of Jesus as the ultimate sacrifice, which gives the symbol an even greater impact even though or perhaps because it is written from a Jewish perspective. Wow. Gasp. The painting screams, “I cannot be Aryeh Lev’s son. My name is Asher Lev.” I think this book is a work of art!
Asher’s focus on his mother as his favorite subject in art begins at a tender young age when he draws her rowing a boat or spending time with him. Rivkeh wants him to draw a pretty world for her, but her depression does not create a pretty world for Asher. He begins to express what he really sees when he uses cigarette ashes as charcoal to capture the shadows in her depressed face. Later when he is faced with the loss of his mother as she prepares to move to Europe, Jacob Kahn tells him, “Your feelings about your mother are producing terrible art” (240). His art turns malevolent as he emulates Michelangelo’s Last Judgment with the face of the bully from school, but his ability to express his feelings deepens. Once he has dealt with that anger, his preoccupation returns to mother and child paintings. It is not surprising that his masterpieces end up including his mother and her anguish as the focal point, but the brilliance of the book is the mental gasp that is caused by visual image of his mother with her arms outstretched along the window blinds in a crucifixion pose.
Even though we are told on the first page of the book that Asher Lev painted the Brooklyn Crucifixion, nothing prepared me for the scene when he finally expresses the anguish that he sees in his mother. Asher’s fixation on the paintings of the Crucifixion of Jesus also foreshadow his masterpieces, but at the time when he was emulating crucifixion paintings from the museum, he was also relating to the darkness and cold that Yudel Krinsky must have felt in Siberia. Asher lived a cold and lonely childhood while his parents sacrificed everything in order to follow their passion of saving innocent Jews and building yeshivas. Asher followed their example and sacrificed everything for his passion. It is ironic that Christians see the Crucifixion of Jesus as the ultimate sacrifice, which gives the symbol an even greater impact even though or perhaps because it is written from a Jewish perspective. Wow. Gasp. The painting screams, “I cannot be Aryeh Lev’s son. My name is Asher Lev.” I think this book is a work of art!
Monday, April 7, 2008
My Name Is Asher Lev: Part 1
"A life should be lived for the sake of heaven. One man is not better than another because he is a doctor while the other is a shoemaker. One man is not better than another because he is a lawyer while the other is a painter. A life is measured by how it is lived for the sake of heaven” (192). These words are the Rebbe’s gift to Asher. The Rebbe, a wise and moral man, can see that Asher has a gift that should not be discounted or discarded. His father, on the other hand, needs Asher’s life to reflect his own to the extent that his fatherly instincts are warped. Aryeh Lev’s harsh judgment of his son is a far greater obstacle on the path to heaven than Asher’s artwork is.
Aryeh Lev regards Asher’s drawings as “foolishness,” but Aryeh is pushed further by Asher’s paintings and particularly his drawings of Jesus and the nudes, which enrage Aryeh. He rages and shouts until Asher is afraid of him. At the Seder supper, as they are “reading the section about the four sons,” Asher notices, “my father looked up at the mention of the evil son and glanced at me. It was an involuntary gesture; I saw he regretted it immediately and looked away” (178). Aryeh’s glance sends a “shiver of dread” through Asher and cannot be considered a righteous act. Areyah is more concerned with tradition than he is with the loving principles behind the traditions. Admittedly, I may not fully understand the Jewish way of thinking, but I simply cannot imagine being so unhappy with my own son. The worst thing Asher has done is steal the oil paints, but in returning them he shows morality and a good heart. I cannot fathom Aryeh’s anguish over having an artist for a son. His distress causes him to tell Asher: “No, it isn’t foolishness any more. It’s worse than foolishness. You bring drawings of that man into the house. You bring drawings of girls without clothes into the house. What next? Next you will become a goy. Better you should not have been born” (176). Rivkeh Lev gasps at her husband’s harsh words.
Rivkeh Lev would never wish that her son were not born. She loves him and supports him to the extent that she is able to do so. She buys him the oil paints so that he will not steal them, but also because she knows how deeply he feels the need to express himself through art. Her support obviously goes beyond trying to stop him from doing wrong because she allows him to go to the museum and even goes with him. Ironically, their first trip to the museum leads Rivkeh to say, “I don’t begin to understand it…Where your painting has brought me, Asher. To Jesus” (170). Obviously, the Levs do not want to be brought to Jesus, to “that man.” She tries to explain to Asher: “Do you know how much Jewish blood has been spilled because of him, Asher? (172). There is further irony in the fact that Asher’s greatest interest in the paintings of Jesus is in the wounds that appear so real.
Asher’s wounds are real, but they are impossible to paint or draw. He wants to learn to draw his own “feelings of ice and darkness” (49) after learning about Yudel Krinsky’s years in Siberia. Even before Reb Krinsky runs the art store, Asher feels a kinship with him, saying, “I could feel our darkness. It seemed to me then that we were brothers, he and I, that we both knew lands of ice and darkness. His had been in the past; mine was in the present. His had been outside himself; mine was within me” (41). Asher’s loneliness and confusion cannot be expressed because he is uncertain of the colors of ice and darkness just as he is unsure what it is exactly that causes his mother’s depression and his father’s absence. By the time Asher is old enough to grasp the meaning of the noble work of saving Jews that his parents have undertaken, he is suffering from being different and from feeling alone. Although he matures and begins to understand the reasons for his mother’s studying and his father’s traveling, Asher continues to feel lonely. He expresses his need for attention to his mother, “I’m also a Jewish life, Mama. I’m also precious in the eyes of the Ribbono Shel Olom…Does someone have a responsibility to me?” (111). The parental responsibility falls to Rivkeh when Aryeh goes to Europe, but she is preoccupied with her studies. She worries when Asher is late from school, but she spends little time with him. Asher wishes to be saved from an ailment he does not understand. He wonders whether his gift is from the Other Side because the drawing has always bothered his father. Nonetheless, Asher defends himself to Aryeh: “Please don’t call it foolishness any more, Papa…Foolishness is something that’s stupid…Foolishness is something a person shouldn’t do. Foolishness is something that brings harm to the world. Foolishness is a waste of time. Please don’t ever call it foolishness any more, Papa” (129). His words do not reach Aryeh as anything other than disrespect. Aryeh expects his son to obey him without question just as he obeys the Rebbe.
Aryeh’s doubts the Rebbe for the first time when the Rebbe gives Asher his blessing for bar mitzvah and also gives his blessing to Asher’s art. The Rebbe reminds Asher to honor his father, but also offers Jacob Kahn as a mentor for Asher’s artwork. The Rebbe understands that one man is not better than another man because of his work. Like the mashpia, the Rebbe treats Asher in a loving way. When Asher’s classmates were taunting Asher, the mashpia taught the verse, “And you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (143). This verse or the principle behind it is more difficult than it might seem. It’s easy to sit and read this book and think that Aryeh should be more loving and accepting to his son because I don’t travel, and my son does not do anything that goes completely against who I am. I would like to think that I would love my son just as he is no matter what. I can relate to Rivkeh as a mother. I do my best to understand my son and support his interests. Unfortunately, he does not want to go to the museum; he wants to talk about sports until I listen so long that I think my ears will bleed. Like Rivkeh, I have books to read since I am both teacher and student. I hope that I find a healthy balance of working and spending time with my son. I would welcome an expressive art that would let me know where his heart and mind are. I have no one like the Rebbe to take the responsibility of decision making off my shoulders. I just have to hope that I get it right on my own.
Aryeh Lev regards Asher’s drawings as “foolishness,” but Aryeh is pushed further by Asher’s paintings and particularly his drawings of Jesus and the nudes, which enrage Aryeh. He rages and shouts until Asher is afraid of him. At the Seder supper, as they are “reading the section about the four sons,” Asher notices, “my father looked up at the mention of the evil son and glanced at me. It was an involuntary gesture; I saw he regretted it immediately and looked away” (178). Aryeh’s glance sends a “shiver of dread” through Asher and cannot be considered a righteous act. Areyah is more concerned with tradition than he is with the loving principles behind the traditions. Admittedly, I may not fully understand the Jewish way of thinking, but I simply cannot imagine being so unhappy with my own son. The worst thing Asher has done is steal the oil paints, but in returning them he shows morality and a good heart. I cannot fathom Aryeh’s anguish over having an artist for a son. His distress causes him to tell Asher: “No, it isn’t foolishness any more. It’s worse than foolishness. You bring drawings of that man into the house. You bring drawings of girls without clothes into the house. What next? Next you will become a goy. Better you should not have been born” (176). Rivkeh Lev gasps at her husband’s harsh words.
Rivkeh Lev would never wish that her son were not born. She loves him and supports him to the extent that she is able to do so. She buys him the oil paints so that he will not steal them, but also because she knows how deeply he feels the need to express himself through art. Her support obviously goes beyond trying to stop him from doing wrong because she allows him to go to the museum and even goes with him. Ironically, their first trip to the museum leads Rivkeh to say, “I don’t begin to understand it…Where your painting has brought me, Asher. To Jesus” (170). Obviously, the Levs do not want to be brought to Jesus, to “that man.” She tries to explain to Asher: “Do you know how much Jewish blood has been spilled because of him, Asher? (172). There is further irony in the fact that Asher’s greatest interest in the paintings of Jesus is in the wounds that appear so real.
Asher’s wounds are real, but they are impossible to paint or draw. He wants to learn to draw his own “feelings of ice and darkness” (49) after learning about Yudel Krinsky’s years in Siberia. Even before Reb Krinsky runs the art store, Asher feels a kinship with him, saying, “I could feel our darkness. It seemed to me then that we were brothers, he and I, that we both knew lands of ice and darkness. His had been in the past; mine was in the present. His had been outside himself; mine was within me” (41). Asher’s loneliness and confusion cannot be expressed because he is uncertain of the colors of ice and darkness just as he is unsure what it is exactly that causes his mother’s depression and his father’s absence. By the time Asher is old enough to grasp the meaning of the noble work of saving Jews that his parents have undertaken, he is suffering from being different and from feeling alone. Although he matures and begins to understand the reasons for his mother’s studying and his father’s traveling, Asher continues to feel lonely. He expresses his need for attention to his mother, “I’m also a Jewish life, Mama. I’m also precious in the eyes of the Ribbono Shel Olom…Does someone have a responsibility to me?” (111). The parental responsibility falls to Rivkeh when Aryeh goes to Europe, but she is preoccupied with her studies. She worries when Asher is late from school, but she spends little time with him. Asher wishes to be saved from an ailment he does not understand. He wonders whether his gift is from the Other Side because the drawing has always bothered his father. Nonetheless, Asher defends himself to Aryeh: “Please don’t call it foolishness any more, Papa…Foolishness is something that’s stupid…Foolishness is something a person shouldn’t do. Foolishness is something that brings harm to the world. Foolishness is a waste of time. Please don’t ever call it foolishness any more, Papa” (129). His words do not reach Aryeh as anything other than disrespect. Aryeh expects his son to obey him without question just as he obeys the Rebbe.
Aryeh’s doubts the Rebbe for the first time when the Rebbe gives Asher his blessing for bar mitzvah and also gives his blessing to Asher’s art. The Rebbe reminds Asher to honor his father, but also offers Jacob Kahn as a mentor for Asher’s artwork. The Rebbe understands that one man is not better than another man because of his work. Like the mashpia, the Rebbe treats Asher in a loving way. When Asher’s classmates were taunting Asher, the mashpia taught the verse, “And you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (143). This verse or the principle behind it is more difficult than it might seem. It’s easy to sit and read this book and think that Aryeh should be more loving and accepting to his son because I don’t travel, and my son does not do anything that goes completely against who I am. I would like to think that I would love my son just as he is no matter what. I can relate to Rivkeh as a mother. I do my best to understand my son and support his interests. Unfortunately, he does not want to go to the museum; he wants to talk about sports until I listen so long that I think my ears will bleed. Like Rivkeh, I have books to read since I am both teacher and student. I hope that I find a healthy balance of working and spending time with my son. I would welcome an expressive art that would let me know where his heart and mind are. I have no one like the Rebbe to take the responsibility of decision making off my shoulders. I just have to hope that I get it right on my own.
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