Self Projections All Over

While I have been researching The Count of Monte Cristo, I have been troubled by making a connection to Lewis Carroll. However, today as I was sitting in the library reading a book referenced by Annalee Norton, I found something awesome! I found out that Alexandre Dumas' character, Edmond Dantes, is very much a reflection of Dumas himself. Many of the sentiments and even direct phrases quoted by "The Count" are reflected in Dumas' memoirs of his father, General Alex Dumas. These connections were inspiring to me because in my very last analysis paper on Carroll, I evaluated Alice as a projection of Charles Dodgson, rather than Alice Liddell, as is commonly believed. 

Therefore, here is my working thesis:

Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo is a complex novel about one Edmond Dantes, who after being unjustly imprisoned, breaks free and enacts revenge on those who were responsible for his imprisonment. Historical, biographical, and textual evidence indicate that Dantes is a reflection of Dumas himself, with similar characteristics and sentiments that are reflected in Dumas' memoir of his father. In essence, Edmond Dantes is a self-projection of his own creator. 

Learning for Life

When I was 18-years old, I attended Carlbrook School, a boarding school in Southern Virginia whose motto is "Non Scholae Sed Vitae Discimus," which in latin for "Not for School, but for life we learn."

Carlbrook had an amazing impact on my life because of the people I was able to meet there. That school in the middle of nowhere Virginia gave me the amazing opportunity to meet and interact with students, professors, counselors and staff members that form some of the brightest, most brilliant people I have ever known.

I had a professor who taught Latin and Ancient Greek Literature who inspired my passion for ancient studies and language. Because of this professor, I have pursued the study of Italian and have developed a deep love for the study of ancient Greece and Rome. Professor Quay has continued to influence me in my studies, and just last semester when I did a presentation on Ancient Rome, I emailed him and got some wonderful ideas and feedback on my presentation.

I had another music and dance teacher there who inspired my love ballroom dance. My dear friend, Gavin Rice, graciously agreed to be my dance partner and suffered through the learning curve I was on. We spent two semesters learning how to twirl and waltz and express emotion through movement.

Ms. Liaschenko also directed the school play. She coached me through vocal lessons and I even got to play some violin for the play. It was an amazing experience I will never forget.

A Thousand Splendid Reasons to Use Social Media

I love that we are all posting on this blog, because I feel that there are so many of us writing about feminism (albeit in different genres and areas of feminism) that I think we can still help one another out with our writing in terms of feminist literary theory.  For example, Morgan's post discusses post-colonialism and feminism; Tori's post discusses two female characters that are not in control of their environment; I remember Sally saying she wanted to discuss feminism in Jane Eyre on Digital Dialogue, although I'm not sure if that is still the direction she wanted to go.  Likewise, I want to discuss how male authors are the strongest writers in feminist literary theory, because people are more likely to take a male author seriously (especially in Carroll's Victorian England, or in Khaled Hosseini's 1980 to present-day Afghanistan.)

See left hyperlink for full post

Social Media is a fantastic new way to communicate and circulate ideas.  I was discussing my thesis with my "homie" Will, who is on tumblr, and he directed me here: I need feminism because J. K. Rowling... .  This short post has been reblogged 12,000+ times and I had never thought about this before, but I feel that something like this strengthens my argument that male writers are more powerful in feminism than female writers.  Harry Potter is also something that could be viewed as slightly feminism (let's be real; without Hermione's intellect and cleverness, Harry would have died multiple times).  But the reason this is significant is because even now, most people refer to JK Rowling as JK Rowling; not Joanne Rowling or Jo Rowling.  In the beginning, no one would have taken a female writer seriously; to make her more masculine, the publishing company had her use her initials (Her only real initial is J for Joanne; the publishing company made her choose another one, so she chose "K," for her grandmother Kathleen.)  There are many other examples of this in Victorian England (the Brontë sisters used male names when they originally published their novels).

With this in mind, I was able to rewrite my thesis: Male authors are the most powerful in the feminist literary movement, as it is male authors that people take the most seriously; in Victorian England, Lewis Carroll wrote about a young girl that broke all social norms; in A Thousand Splendid Suns, it was Khaled Hosseini, a male author in a Middle Eastern culture, that wrote about the oppression of women.  Ironically enough, this shows why feminism is necessary: until women can write about their own problems and be taken seriously, the women of the world will almost always certainly have to rely on men to be the journalists and authors of their inequality.

Embarrassed About Sharing

PR is not my strongest quality. I'm sure many people can relate to this sentiment--I just don't like sharing with others. It's not that I don't like people, I really really do. But I don't like handing out fliers, I don't like talking about my feelings, and I don't like asking for help. In fact, I'm kind of afraid of it. Robbie talks about something similar in his blog post about sharing music lyrics with his band mates. Sometimes, the prospect of sharing part of your soul with others is absolutely mortifying. So most of the time, I just don't. As a soft-spoken younger sibling of someone who was always happy to take the spotlight, and with a group of avid book-readers for close friends, I've gotten away with this for most of my life. Nobody has asked me to do anything too terribly far outside my comfort zone.

However, as an English major, I've discovered that writing is all about finding an audience and sharing, so I've reluctantly started to turn myself over to the inevitable. But even so, my first attempts to circulate and share my ideas for this paper online and with friends have been halfhearted. I posted my tweethis statement as a Facebook status and then indifferently left it there to die. I did get one comment from Tori on my blog post suggesting a change in wording to help clarify, which I really appreciated. I read her tweethis statement in return, where she talks about control issues in Ella Enchanted and Alice in Wonderland. Reading it sort of busted me out of character comparisons, which is my go-to strategy for literary analysis.  As I thought about it, I started to consider another, much more interesting topic for me to write about. I've even started to get excited about it, which is a huge relief because it's hard to write about something you don't care about.

I really appreciate the help that I've gotten from reading the thoughtful, insightful posts of other members of the class, and as I've started to share with a little more enthusiasm and vigor, I've started to get more of a response from friends and family. The feedback I've gotten from others and giving feedback myself has helped me decide what it is I really want to write about, which I'll share with you all soon :)

Anthem in Wonderland: A Linguistic Approach

We're writing a big paper in our writing literary criticism class, and I'm going to contrast Anthem by Ayn Rand with Through the Looking Glass and/or Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. At first I was thinking about taking a generic approach--maybe trying to argue that Carroll's Wonderland is a dystopia, just as the world in Anthem is a dystopia, but let's be real. I love analyzing language way too much to pass up the opportunity to do so here.

So I'm thinking about writing something about how language controls thought in Anthem as well as in Carroll's works. What do you guys think?

Overcoming Perfectionism

Growing up, I've always been a perfectionist. I don't mind sharing work that I'm proud of--work that has been polished and finished and meticulously refined--but I've always zealously guarded my rough drafts and works in progress and other miscellaneous mistakes.

I'm particularly particular about my writing: I've been known to scrupulously readjust punctuation, change a word for a slightly different connotation, chip at my words with a scalpel until I am satisfied with every detail, before I am ready to share my work with anyone. But recently, I have begun to realize the value of sharing my unpolished work.

I have found, to the surprise of my perfectionist instincts, that people are actually quite supportive of my flaw-riddled talents and rough ideas. A few friends in particular come to mind as people from whom I can share my ideas, who provide support and help me to develop my own ideas.

This is the first photo in existence of Alyssa and me together

The first is my friend Alyssa. By coincidence one day, we discovered that both of us were very interested in creative writing, and that both of us had a small portfolio of poetry and prose that neither of us had really shared publicly before. We read each other’s work and came to appreciate the differences in our writing styles. I’ve had the opportunity to edit some of her rough work, and I can turn to her for advice and constructive criticism, too, and she's honest with me. Good friends don't let each other write poorly.

Daddy Daughter Days

I wasn't always a "Daddy's Girl". I think I became one when we shared our love of literature and old trucks. Therefore, when we shared a love for The Princess Bride, we became closer than ever.

Also, I have never met, nor do I ever think I will meet, someone who can imitate Vizzini's voice as well as my father. It never ceases to amaze me how such a large man can mimic a little, lispy hunchback. Inconceivable.

The perfect homie to share my research with was too easy to find. Because I already had one, and we have been sharing ideas since I was little. That's right, my good ol' daddy-o turned out to be my homedawg all along. If he ever reads this, he'll probably relish in the fact that I called him that. That's for you, pops. I love you.

Then I told him my ideas and shared my personal narrative. Of course he was delighted. Of course he was interested. Of course he was proud. But more than anything, my dad was a wall.

A wall? Yep. Hear me out.

He was the perfect thing to bounce ideas off of. Just like racquetball, folks. I could swing that little racket and send a ball his way, and sometimes he'd send it right back (those were the times he would agree whole-heartedly) and sometimes that ball would bounce funny and come back at an angle I wasn't expecting (those were the times he would slightly agree, or even disagree) and those were the best times. By bouncing my ideas off of such an awesome homie, I was able to round out my ideas in ways that I could not do myself. The unexpected ideas are what make research so exciting, just as those surprising corner shots in raquetball make it a game.

And that's what this is, isn't it? A game. A honing of skills, a discovery, a sense of teamwork.

I'm a terrible racquetball player.

Here's to hoping I'm a better research(ball) player.