Wednesday, March 20, 2013

the sin of growing up


"It was a sin to grow up and be a man."
(Anaya, Bless Me, Ultima, p. 31)

As I replayed this short sentence over and over in my head, I wanted to understand how growing up could be considered a transgression.  At this point in Rudolfo Anaya's Bless Me, Ultima, we read a short dialog between a mother and father about becoming an adult.  The mother views growing up is a sin while the father sees growing up as nothing but a fact of life.  When I first read this sentence I agreed more with the father's opinion but after making some connections and pondering the mother's beliefs, I understand why she felt it unfortunate to grow up.  The transformation from child to adult involves one major element--the loss of innocence.

As a child raised in the nineties and early two-thousands, television was a big part of my youth. Nickelodeon and Disney have made me who I am today, and I'm not ashamed.  It isn't my growth into adulthood that I want to examine but the transformation of the children who stared in the TV shows and movies I enjoyed.  I grew up watching kids like Lindsay Lohan, Macaulay Culkin and Miley Cyrus.  As children, they were cute, talented and wholesome.  Today those names make us think of substance abuse, rebellion and self-destruction. These young adults aren't horrible or vile people but they aren't the innocent kid stars we used to know.  What happened?  They grew up and were exposed to the world.

The story of these child stars in not unique; we all go through a similar process.  Although our experiences are less public, we become exposed to the world and gradually we loose our innocence--some more than others. The mother in Bless Me, Ultima wants nothing more than to keep her son clean and pure.  She understands that the transformation from boyhood to manhood involves a loss of purity. Our loss of purity, innocence and our exposure to the world are what define "growing up."  It isn't our metamorphosis from young to old that is a sin but the complex process of growing up that leaves us with blemishes.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

mo' money, mo' problems


"While other more foresighted than they had got their money out of Santo Domingo and had gone to New Orleans, or were starting new coffee plantations in Cuba, those who had salvaged nothing reveled in their improvidence, in living from day to day, in freedom from obligations, seeking, for the moment, to suck from everything that pleasure they could find." 
(Alejo Carpentier, The Kingdom of This World, p.76-77)

After a terrible series of events, the former plantation owner, M. Lenormand de Mézy has found himself at rock bottom.  The once powerful slave driver has lost everything.  In search of a fresh start the defeated man stumbles upon old friends with similar plights; power, wealth and family are just a memory.  It's here where we find this quote about insufficiencies.  It doesn't take long for these men realize they've inherited a great deal of freedom.  No responsibilities, no obligations just time to waste and appetites to feed.  In a situation where I've lost everything, I imagine myself mourning and lamenting, not chasing every diversion.  I feel it's important to understand where this frivolousness is
coming from.

Have you ever heard the phrase "mo' money, mo' problems?" If not, that's fine, I'll explain.  Mo' Money, Mo' Problems was originally a song by the late Notorious B.I.G. The track alludes to the idea that with more wealth and popularity comes more complications and drama.  This phase and accompanying concept have been adopted all over popular culture.  I'll admit, the phase "mo' money, mo' problems" sounds silly and is far from sophisticated but the idea is relevant.  We hear about money related problems all the time.  When we have a lot of money we're required to be responsible and, for many, that's a problem.


As a wealthy plantation owner, M. Lenormand de Mézy possessed endless power but also endless responsibilities.  He enjoyed luxuries but was also plagued by complexities.  If we can say that more money equals more problems, then it is fair to say that less money equals less problems.  This is the liberty that M. Lenormand de Mézy and his old friends found.  With everything lost, they were left to enjoy their "improvidence." With all demands tossed aside they were able to find relief.  At first glance, this story may seem foreign and irrelevant to us, but there is a lesson to be learned.  A life of fortune may not be all that we dream and so our greatest happiness might be found in our insufficiencies.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

dare to oppose


"After nine or ten nights he understood with a certain bitterness that he could expect nothing from those pupils who accepted his doctrine passively, but that he could expect something from those who occasionally dared to oppose him.  The former group, although worthy of love and affection, could not ascend to the level of individuals; the latter pre-existed a slightly greater degree."
(Jorge Luis Borges, The Circular Ruins, Ficciones p. 60-61)

The short story The Circular Ruins, by Jorge Luis Borges, is a little confusing and pretty abstract.  It isn't necessary to know the whole story to understand this quote.  For context's sake, you need to know that a man, in a vivid dream, is lecturing a group of his pupils.  He is attempting to mold their minds and instruct them in the most profound subjects.  The man comes to the unpleasant realization; that not all his students are going to excel.  In fact, the pupil who periodically resists his instructor will triumph while the obedient pupil is defeated.

I was recently heard a story on NPR about individuals who succeed while going against the "system."  It started by naming a few individuals--Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg, Michael Dell--and asked the listen to identify what these billionaires had in common. Obviously, they're all big names in the tech-world but they're also college dropouts.  The story discussed the idea that, contrary to popular belief, college isn't necessarily on the pathway to success.  The common notion is that in order to get a decent job, you've got to go to college.  Like my mom says, "you don't to flip burgers for the rest of your life."  If that's the purpose of my education, then why do so may billionaires not have college degrees?

These "degree-less" moguls realized that it was necessary to question the "system."  They didn't blindly accept all that was being presented to them.  They sought new avenues and challenged the world.  Similarly, the Dreamer knew that his students with most potential were the ones willing to question the ideas he taught them.  The accepting and compliant pupils weren't bad but they didn't have potential to ascend to the highest levels.  Am I suggesting we all dropout this week and shoot for the Forbes' list next March? No, but there is something important to take away from this.  There can't be progress if we don't look for new ways to do things.  As individuals who are constantly learning, our responsibility is to question the world.    

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

the mexican macho



"The Mexican 'macho'-the male-is a hermetic being, closed up in himself, capable of guarding both himself and whatever has been confided in him.  Manliness is judged according to one's invulnerability to enemy arms or the impacts of the outside world." (Octavio Paz, The Labyrinth of Solitude, p.31)

Each time I read something by Octavio Paz, I can tell it's profound but I can't quite understand it at first.   It takes a little bit of reexamination and application to grasp what he is suggesting. This quote about the manly man appealed to me immediately.  I think we've all come across someone who fits the macho description;  an individual who, no matter what, won't let anyone into his fortress.  We wonder why they're so guarded and why they refuse relationships.  Paz not only presents us with an image of the Mexican macho but also an explanation for why he exists.

As Paz described the macho man I began thinking of good parallels.  Many examples came to mind but none better than Lieutenant Dan Taylor.  Lieutenant Dan is a character from the film Forrest Gump.  Lieutenant Dan is as manly and macho as they come.  Since the inception of the United States of America, Lieutenant Dan was destine to be a soldier. In fact, Lieutenant Dan had a family member fight and die in every American war.  There were few things Lieutenant Dan couldn't do, one of those was open up.  Not only is Lieutenant Dan concerned with the war against the Viet Cong, but also the war against candid relationships.

Paz uses a special word to describe the Mexican macho's view of life-"combat."  Life is a war and it requires strategy.  The warrior with the most defense and intelligence will win.  Once the enemy knows your secrets, then you've lost the fight.  Connections and relationships open us up and exposes our feelings.  Relationships expose our secrets. To a manly lieutenant or a macho Mexican, secrets cannot be released and therefore genuine bonds are never formed.  Why is protection and security so important to these stoics?  Paz suggests history and heritage.  Similar to Lieutenant Dan's lineage of American soldiers, the Mexican macho has an ancestry of pride, courage and skepticism. 


If you have spare time here is a link to 20 more minutes of Lieutenant Dan footage.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

a project with results


"Any project without results does not have a reason for being.  The Orchestra System project gives results." 
(Gustavo Dudamel, Tocar y Luchar)

This weeks quote comes from the documentary Tocar y Luchar.  Gustavo Dudamel, a young up and coming conductor, comments on the Orchestra System in Venezuela and it's overwhelming success.  Not only does Dudamel express how great the Orchestra System is, but he also gives great insight into programs and products in general.  Dudamel explains that if something doesn't fulfill its purpose, then it has no point.  That seems simple, right? The way that Dudamel put it made me think.  I started reflecting on times when I was a part of something that didn't produce results.

We have all been in situations where we've expected an outcome but it never came;  maybe your "resultless" project was a failed diet or a faulty gadget off TV.  The experiences are different but the feelings are the same--frustration.  The experience that comes to mind first, is my three years of high school spanish.  Three whole years of spanish classes, what did I learn? Um, I don't remember.  If that answer isn't evidence of a flawed system, then what is?  When it came time for me to serve a spanish speaking mission after high school, I was hardly prepared.  After "years of studying," I was at the same level as those who had never been acquainted with the language.  What good did those three years do me?  

To say that high school spanish should cease to exist might be a little harsh but I understand where Dudamel is coming from.  I makes no sense to work at something that won't give you the results it promises.  I can relate to Dudamel because I've felt the frustration of resultless projects.  From that frustration stems an appreciation for programs that work; programs that are beneficial.  Dudamel states that the Orchestra System influences all aspects of life and literally transforms the youth that get involved.  That is a project worthy of time and energy.  Why does this all matter?  It matters because sometimes we have to reevaluate the endeavors we're involved in.  Periodically we need to redirect our focus to something that produces results.  

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

short narratives


"Villela, Camillo and Rita: three names, one adventure and no explanation of how it all began. Let us proceed to explain."  
(Machado de Assis, The Fortune-Teller, p.49)

The Fortune-Teller by Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis has probably been my favorite reading so far this semester.  Why you ask? First off--it's short.  Maybe that's telling of the kind of student I am.  The short story element and the distinct writing style that accompanies The Fortune-Teller, is what makes it so enjoyable to read.  The quote I've chosen, in itself, isn't "deep" like past quotes but it's very telling of Machado de Assis' style.  The simple phrase, "let us proceed...," gives a unique feel and atmosphere to the rest of the story.  These words come directly from the narrator mouth; he is speaking directly to us, the audience.

While reading this story, I couldn't help but think of the unique atmosphere Machado de Assis had put me in.  I realized that I had been in this same atmosphere may times before.  I'm not big into science fiction but I do love The Twilight Zone.  The Twilight Zone is an old TV program that depicts short super natural stories.  The common element in each episode, besides strange story-lines, is the narrator/host Rod Sterling and his brief commentaries throughout the show.  Rod Sterling invites the viewer to join him as he explores the events of a bizarre place, the Twilight Zone.

Similar to Rod Sterling, Machado de Assis is present and speaking to the reader.  The reader is introduced to a dramatic and warped series of events.  At the conclusion of the intimate account of Camillo's demise we are left in a state of wonder.  The story ends abruptly and we left making connections and processing the twist we've just witnessed. The Twilight Zone is the same, the viewer is left putting the puzzle pieces together.  The elements of an intimate narrative and the "shortness" of the story are what makes these narratives so engaging.  The narrator is able to put us in a special place where we feel close to the story. Then, before we know it, the story ends; we're left with unanswered questions and left to connecting the dots.


Wednesday, February 6, 2013

roots in the heart


"'The deeper the plan's roots go into the earth, the more difficult to wrest it free. Each step that Iracema takes on the path of departure is a root she casts into the heart of her guest'"
(Alencar, Iracema, p.55)

The quote for this weeks blog comes from Martim.  At this point in the story Martim, Poti and Iracema are fleeing from the Tabajára warriors.  Knowing the danger they are in, Martim tries to persuade Iracema to turn back.  What caught my attention was the poetic way Martim describes his feelings and plight.  For a tree it is advantageous to have deep roots.  Roots act as an anchor to hold the tree in place;  with deep roots it is able to withstand winds and storms. The opposite is true for a sapling with shallow roots--little effort is needed to uproot a young tree.

The developing relationship between Martim and Iracema is one we see all the time. Whether it's Shrek and Donkey or free young lovers, the message is the same; what starts out as a seed will eventually turn into something more.  A film that I recently saw illustrates this type of relationship very well but in an untraditional way.  The French movie entitled The Hedgehog, based on the book The Elegance of the Hedgehog, tells the story of a young girl, Paloma, who has decided to kill herself on her 12th birthday.  Her determinations to proceed with her suicide are interrupted when she begins to form unlikely friendships with her humble, adult neighbors.  The roots of love in her heart make her think differently about the world and her desire to be in it.  Although they have different implications, Martim's and Paloma's roots come from the same tree.

Think of hardest goodbye you've ever experienced.  Maybe it was the passing of a loved one, leaving for college or sending a relative to war.  Now compare those departures to graduating high school and saying, "so long" to Señora Cina, your spanish teacher. What's the difference?  The depth of our roots.  Martim knows that at some point he will have to say goodbye to Iracema, maybe later that night or years down the road, he doesn't know.  What he does know is that, the sooner he can uproot his feelings the easier it will be to move on.