Monday, July 1, 2019

Hello!

Hello! Welcome to my personal blog. Please feel free to contact me with any inquiries.

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Drown?

“Drown,” the title story for Junot Diaz’s short story collection Drown, is a short but powerful narrative about a young man and his complicated relationship with an old friend, Beto. The story lingers on the history of the two men, but eventually reveals that the narrator (unnamed) experienced an ambiguous sexual encounter with Beto before he left for college. The unclear nature of this encounter was a prominent topic we discussed in class, and while I think it does matter (and in fact is the crux of this story) whether or not this experience was consensual, I believe the ambiguity and room for interpretation that is left up to the reader is an intentional choice and integral to the complex structure of this narrative.

The majority of the narrative focuses on how the narrator’s life is structured now that Beto has left, as well as flashbacks to how his life was before. This allows the reader to sympathize with both the narrator and Beto, wanting to see their reunion and unsure as to why the narrator is so hesitant to visit Beto. For example, “I pass his apartment but the windows are dark; I put my ear to the busted-up door and hear only the familiar hum of the air conditioner. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll talk to him. I can go back to my dinner and two years will become three.” However, when the reader learns about the narrator and Beto’s history, it is up to them to interpret how the narrator feels about the event. We already know about the narrator’s association with his homophobic friends, “At the Old Bridge Turnpike we pass the fag bar, which never seems to close… Tonight he just puts his head out the window. Fuck you! He shouts… That’s original, I say,” but even here we are unclear about his feelings and how he stands in the group.

I believe it’s important that we get so much background on the relationship between Beto and the narrator, because it supports the interpretation that Beto didn’t consider the encounter an assault. However, the hesitance of the narrator to reunite with Beto could be read either way, that the narrator is hesitant because he doesn’t know how to approach this topic with Beto because he doesn’t know what the encounter meant for them and their relationship, or he’s scared to confront Beto about an assault and doesn’t want it to happen again.

The title of the story, “Drown,” it confusing at first, because the story doesn’t really have anything to do with drowning. However, other than when the boys went to the pool as kids, the one time the narrator does mention water is right after the last encounter with Beto, where he says, “I wasn’t asleep or awake, caught somewhere in between, rocked slowly back and forth the way surf holds junk against the shore, rolling it over and over.” This could support the theory that Beto considered his encounter with Beto an attack, because if he considers himself that junk against the shore, his experience with Beto could be what’s causing him to “drown.”

This story asks us whether the narrator considers this encounter with Beto an assault or an awakening of sorts, and there is evidence for both interpretations. The events of the story and even the narrator’s account of the encounter itself are extremely ambiguous, leaving the decision up to the reader. This could be Diaz commenting on the “gray areas” of human sexuality and what that looks like in practice, or it could simply be a creative choice. Either way, I think the story is more compelling for it, and its complexities make it a stand-out narrative in Drown.

Thursday, April 26, 2018

Childhood Masculinity in Drown

Many of the stories in Drown center around the character Yunior and his older brother Rafa. To me Yunior and Rafa were very familiar characters, as reading them reminded me of my childhood in a very general sense. Their own interactions with each other, how Rafa might have been hard on Yunior but at the end of the day was protective of him, all that made me think of my relationships with my own siblings, and it emphasized how universal I think those kinds of relationships must be.

There were a couple of things, however, that I could identify but not necessarily relate to in Yunior and Rafa’s relationship. One of the big things was the concept of masculinity. For example, in “Ysrael,” after Yunior has gotten off the bus and is crying, Rafa tells him to stop even though he doesn’t know the reason for it. The theme of having to keep his emotions inside continues in “Fiesta, 1980” when Yunior’s father punishes him for throwing up in the van. I think throwing up in the van was an emotional response because Yunior said he never threw up anywhere else, so it probably had something to do with the strained relationship/association of fear with his father. Neither of these emotional responses were something Yunior could control, especially at that young age, but I think the reason why it was expected comes down to imposed ideas of masculinity. We saw Yunior’s concept of masculinity get worse in “Fiesta, 1980” after Yunior and Rafa have been reunited with their father for a while, which may be because of their father’s influence or just because they’re getting older and there are more expectations of how boys their age are supposed to be. However any sort of influence at a young and formative age like this is going to have serious implications for how Yunior grows up and sees the world, which we haven’t had the opportunity to read yet.

Diaz heavily has included the theme of masculinity in pretty much all the stories in Drown so far, and in Yunior’s story we have seen the expectations of childhood masculinity not having the greatest effect on him. He went from a child hopeful to receive love from his father in “Aguantando,” to a kid more pressured to be a certain way, but still curious in “Ysrael,” to a scared and lonely boy in “Fiesta, 1980.” I’ll be curious to see what other perspectives/timelines we’ll get from Yunior’s point of view and how that fleshes out this story and topic. Thanks for reading!

Saturday, April 7, 2018

The Kid's Guide to Divorce

I really liked this story because I thought it was unique. Moore’s stories mostly have to do with romantic relationships, and I was happy to see a change of pace in her subject matter. This story was also quite short compared to most of the other ones we’ve read, which I think allows the material which is included to stand out. I loved the mother-daughter dynamic (which I can only describe as “sweet”) that was highlighted throughout most of the story, but I think the underlying tensions throughout culminating in the last couple of paragraphs is what really made this story special.

The mother-daughter dynamic in this story was really special and really accurate in my opinion. I felt like I have acted out this scene with my own mom before, right down to the salty popcorn and sappy movie. The daughter herself was someone I think we were supposed to identify with, and I definitely did. She was corny, but honestly really cute and her behavior reflected a lot of what I see in other little kids. She was familiar, and I think that worked within the story very well.

The underlying tensions were another reason I found this story so compelling. First the argument between the girl and her mom, and the following “silent treatment,” which wouldn’t have been out of place in a normal situation I think, but when taken into consideration with the end of the story, could be telling about their dynamic. The mother and daughter obviously have some communication problems, but that isn’t necessarily the issue in my opinion. The daughter hides the things she deems not necessary to tell her mother, like the stuff about the “lady” and the “beer.” I think the daughter is trying to save the mother’s feelings here, or keep her from getting angry, which is a really interesting dynamic for someone we can assume is pretty young. I think that’s where the title comes in, because a “Kid’s Guide to Divorce” could be something necessary for a child who has to mature pretty quick in order to understand how to navigate these situations. This story was interesting in a lot of different ways, and I’m interested to see if Moore will continue any of these threads in later stories.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Sonny's Blues

I loved this story so much. I’m sorry, I just had to start with that. Everything about it fills me with such a pure feeling that I think reading stories and other literature is really all about. I’m always a sucker for sibling relationship stories, I love an angsty plot with a hopeful ending, and it also happened to tick off dealing with mental issues and overindulgent descriptions of music. I immediately identified with both Sonny and the narrator, and was captivated by their story. I found the scenes between just the two of them the most dynamic, particularly their last scene where Sonny invites his brother to the club to watch him play.

This scene starts with the narrator looking out onto the street below from his apartment, where he witnesses “an old-fashioned revival meeting.” He singles out one woman in particular who sings with what Sonny later describes as a “warm” voice. The narrator spots Sonny on the street, where he gives money to the woman. After exchanging pleasantries and his invitation to the club, Sonny brings up how the woman’s voice reminds him of what heroin feels like. Now, earlier in the story, the narrator maintained that he had no interest in knowing what heroin feels like, but now he’s uncharacteristically hanging on Sonny’s every last word.

One question nagged me throughout the entire story; why did Sonny start doing heroin in the first place? I understand that there was an epidemic going on a the time, and it was particularly a part of jazz culture, but why the need to “feel good” as he so describes it? Or maybe more importantly, what made him feel like he was suffering in the first place? I would say the only logical explanation would be the death of his parents, and possibly feeling abandoned by his brother. These events happen, and his only coping mechanism is the music, and when that’s taken away from him, he leaves. These events are really brought into perspective when he says “While I was downstairs before, on my way here, listening to that woman sing, it struck me all of a sudden how much suffering she must have had to go through--to sing like that.” To Sonny, beautiful music is born out of suffering, and the death of his parents and subsequent lack of support urged him to learn piano, to become blues. The title of this story can be read two ways: Sonny’s Blues, his music, or Sonny’s blues, the depression that drives him to create it.

This scene as a whole is characterized by an inability on Sonny’s part to say what he actually means, or in the exact way he means it. Lines like, “he hoped his eyes would tell me things he could never otherwise say,” and, “I can’t really talk about it. Not to you, not to anybody,” are scattered throughout the section. They serve to characterize Sonny as someone who desperately wants to open up, but feels he can’t. But he does, eventually, and rants about how his own stink disgusted him, but he couldn’t get away from it. Sonny lets it all out for his brother, and I get the sense that he said some things he hadn’t even admitted to himself before this conversation. It’s unbelievably real, and raw, and a catalyst for the final scene where he is able to rediscover his past abilities, become part of a community that is so important to him again, and show to his brother that this is not only a community that’s worthwhile in its own merit, but also the place where he truly belongs.

Saturday, March 3, 2018

Blue Period

“De-Daumier Smith’s Blue Period” was an entertaining read and a fascinating study of the story’s main
character, Smith. The title immediately brings to mind Pablo Picasso’s Blue Period, a time when the
artist painted somber, essentially monochromatic paintings in shades of blue and blue-green. To see
the events of the book as a “Blue Period” for Smith makes sense when we consider the events leading
up to and contained in the story.


The narrator outlines the recent history of the events leading up to the main part of the narrative for the
reader, and there are a couple elements of interest. Firstly, and probably most importantly, Smith’s
mother has very recently passed away. The death of a close family member is enough to send anyone
into a poor frame of mind, and that is where I believe we see Smith during this story. Additionally, we
know Smith has just left Paris, which he considers his home, for New York, which he finds too crowded
and tiresome. Again, this could contribute to Smith’s inner turmoil, which frames his actions for the rest
of the story.

I think a reader could read this story in one of two ways: either the narrator (who we can assume is an
older version of Smith) is constantly poking fun at Smith’s actions during the events of this story, or he’s
completely oblivious. I’m partial to the previous reading, but there are points supporting each. Either
way, I think that Smith’s actions during the story are a result of acting out (by becoming a pathological
liar, being unnecessarily cruel to the art students, and being way too overbearing pretty much all the
time) because of grief over the death of his mother. I think living in New York with his stepfather
reminded him too much of his mother and therefore he was going to do whatever it took to get out of
there, and therefore his “Blue Period” included working in the Montreal art school. Overall, I think this
story was an interesting exploration of the unconventional expression of a man grieving over the death
of his mother.

Friday, February 9, 2018

The Story with Jim, and Elliot, and that girl that starts with a K, and… there was another one?

Despite what the cheeky title suggests, I would actually like to discuss a short story of which I actually do know the name, “Another Manhattan”. Through the first read, I actually really liked this story and its depiction of mental illness, showing how confusing and nonsensical is can be for someone like Jim to try and navigate normal social situations when he is weighed down by his own mind. I also really liked the way it treated Jim and Kate’s relationship, how it refused to show love in the clean, simple boxes that so many narratives seem to reiterate. However, when we brought up the different relationship dynamics the story presents, the heavy emphasis on Elliot and Kate’s relationship was noted as opposed to the lesser importance of Jim and Susan’s relationship. After going back and considering the story, I started to see the way Antrim’s story fits into the pattern that many male authors fall into when writing stories with female characters.

The story opens with Jim talking about his tense relationship with Kate and how “it was wrong to hate her.” The perspective then shifts to Kate, although all she talks about is her relationship with Jim, and her relationship with Elliot, and how he manipulates her. Right from the get-go we see Kate’s character defined only by her relationships with other men. We then move back to Jim’s perspective, and we get interesting history about him and an inner struggle that really defines the narrative. There’s nothing wrong with that per say, but with him being really our only choice for a protagonist combined with his weird treatment of women (Kate, Susan, the “twenty years younger” flowershop clerk), it just rubs me the wrong way.

My main issue with this story, however, is Susan. Now, I understand it’s supposed to be a short story, and therefore maybe the author can’t do everything he wants to develop the characters, but his treatment of Susan was just pathetic. Elliot was at least interesting, had something of a  backstory, and a few witty one-liners to make him a perfectly acceptable side character. If a houseplant could speak, it could’ve played Susan. Her most interesting line is “I love you,” directed at Jim, over the phone, after she does her most interesting action, when goes to the bathroom. She’s literally just a shell that Jim had an affair with five months ago, and I hate it.

This story isn’t one of the worst examples of sexism in literature I’ve read, but it still had a lot of room to improve. I think it was a good lesson on how we need to work harder to create positive representation of women in narratives, and not just write women lazily to support your male characters. I still liked this story, but I wish it was better in this aspect.