William Williams. His parents were creative.

I was cruising Ian's notes blog just now, again reviewing what I missed last week. I reread the poem by William Carlos Williams and was overcome with an intense feeling of deja vu.
I've read this before. Like really read this.

It took me a solid five minutes, but then I remembered. A couple years ago, I took the 200 level Intro to Lit class, as I'm sure some of you have taken. The last third of the semester was dedicated to poetry, as was our final paper. There's a lovely website, of which the name escapes me, that is similar to a database but filled with only poetry. I had this ingenious idea to find a poem and write the back-story; the situation in which the poem was inspired, as if I was the author. In this lovely website/database, I typed 'red' into the search bar and guess what was the first hit?

"The Red Wheelbarrow"

I've found my paper, in an archive on my email account.
Here's the first few lines:

"I open my eyes to just slivers. Sunlight floods my bedroom as I shift to my side and flop my arm across the bed. He’s gone, again. 

Breathe deep. 

Arm retracts to its usual position in front of my chest, hand-under-face. There’s still an indent in his pillow, sheets aren’t yet cold. 

Sigh. 

I’m not that surprised, but I find myself pissed off all the same."

It may be difficult to picture where this story leads, but I assure you, in the end it all works out.

Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday baby...

*While reading, for the full effect, play this.*

When I was assigned #7 on the List of 25 Crazy Rites of Passage, I was insanely surprised the Western tradition of celebrating (more often than not) a girl's 16th birthday made the list, especially in the top ten.

What in the world?!

I can hardly remember how I celebrated my 16th, other than I didn't attend school and went to breakfast with my mother, like I do every year. I've always enjoyed birthdays with my longstanding group of friends, but the years have blurred with age. But, I can tell you, with an incredible utmost certainty, that that particular October 22nd was in no way, shape, or form painful.

An un-altered photo of my 16 year old self in my high school yearbook.

In my research, I discovered that there are three ceremonies that are performed at a typical Sweet 16 birthday party.
1. Candle-lighting ceremony: each of the candles placed on the cake represents, and is lit by, various people that have been influences in the life of the honored.
2. Shoe ceremony: a father, uncle, grandfather presents the birthday girl (who is wearing flats) with a pair of heels and helps her change into them. This symbolizes moving into womanhood.
3. Tiara ceremony: the mother brings a tiara to place on the noggin of the birthday girl. Sometimes this is paired with the shoe ceremony.

Please, if you would like your mind-blown by financial obscenities, check out full episodes of My Super Sweet 16. I was stunned, shocked, how much money these girls spent--and not of their own cash, but their parents. In.sanity.

Page 84!

"In any event, arete is incandescent whenever manifest in a man's love for a boy. In its Kantian, unattached isolation, the Greeks would scarcely have appreciated the quality at all. The last and ultimate image of arete Greece offers us is a field strewn with the corpses of young Thebans after the battle of Chaeronea. The corpses were found lying in pairs: they were all couples, lovers, who had gone into battle together against the Macedonians. It was to be Greece's last stand."

Now, some of these words are either new or too big for my peewee brain. So here are my notes of definitions, synonyms, and bits of history that helped me read between the lines.

arete: being the best you can be, excellence (this is also defined, in a few lines previous to this passage, as virtue)
incandescent: passionate
*love: the Greeks have five different words for love: agape, eros, philia, and storge; all used for variant degrees of affection*
Kantian: reason, rationality? Based on Kant's work! Intriguing stuff, but I found it difficult to read
Thebans: people of Thebes, fought in Chaeronea against the Macedonians--Sacred Band of Thebes were said to have fought in this battle, speculations of homosexuality from other sources other than mentioned in Calasso's passage
Battle of Chaeronea: fought in 338 BC, between Macedonia (lead by Phillip II) and allied Greek city-states. Macedonia = victors 

So, if I were to rewrite the beginning of this this passage, my own, dumbed down version would go something like this:

In any event, excellence is passionate whenever displayed in a man's love for a boy. In its own reason, the Greeks would have just barely appreciated the quality at all. The last and ultimate image of excellence Greece offers us is a field strewn with the corpses of young Thebans after the Battle of Chaeronea.

*The fact that English has stuffed all kinds of feelings of affection into one measly word astounds me. As mentioned, Greek has five different words, but Hebrew has seven. In the last 24 hours, I myself have exhausted the word "love," making claims such as, "I love coffee." and, "Love you, mom." Certainly, I don't love my mother in the same way I love coffee--no matter crappy my morning turns out--so why do I, why do we, do this? Is there no other term pertaining to my endearment of caffeinated deliciousness? Sure there is. I'm just lazy, as are you, and overgeneralize language. 

I'm uncertain as to why this passage stuck out to me, and I'm not sure I really have a point for analyzing it, other than I find Greek Love, the cultural acceptance and almost reverence, interesting. (And the use of language is also intriguing!) 

The Sacred Band of Thebes

Here's some Wiki-links for related reading:
Kant
Battle of Chaeronea
Sacred Band of Thebes
Greek Love
Greek words for Love

Hallelujah

I've heard many versions of the song, "Hallelujah" but never registered all of the lyrics. (Remember Shrek??) In class, Dr. Sexton mentioned the reference to the story of David and Bathsheba in the lyrics, and while I believed him entirely, I felt I needed to research this myself.

Sure enough, very first line!
But, the seduction doesn't begin until the second verse:

"Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah"

Now, I'm not sure about the tying to the chair part...I'd have to brush up on 2 Samuel.

Leonard Cohen was the original singer/songwriter, which I did not know. I found this youtube video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrLk4vdY28Q, and in my humble opinion, I must admit...this version is the least appealing! The cover by Jeff Buckley is my favorite! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4)

I don't really remember what I had for breakfast, or how this little gem of information was brought up in class. But, it reminded me how interconnected everything really is, nothing is original (even song lyrics), and that (thus far) Dr. Sexton knows what he's talking about.

Just Look At That Face!

Two weekends ago--I really had to think about that. Seems like much longer--I took my most favorite six year old to ice cream. It had been a while since we had time for just us; usually his little sister tagged along to our outings. But that day was solely for him and pseudo Auntie. He told me about school: he has a boy teacher, Mr. D was really funny, and that he knew what anarchy meant. Man, was I impressed! We got to chatting about the playground and friends. My little buddy told me about another kid that makes up stories all the time and, "Sometimes he gets in trouble Auntie Whit. So I always tell the truth."

Yeah, that will change.

When he was finished telling me all these great things happening in his small world, I asked him if he had learned about Native Americans in school yet. "A little," was his response. "Will you tell me more?" Ah! I couldn't have asked for a better opener! I started to explain that they were a group of people on this continent before the settlers moved in and began...
                           I was cut off. My little friend wanted to talk about something else.
"Wait!" I said. "Let me tell you one of their stories."

After I finished my creation story, we talked about how it differed from 'God's Story' (meaning Genesis 1) and what the scientists say. It was a very enlightening conversation, being reminded of this world from the perspective of a child.

Before I wanted to, it was time to take the little guy home.

At Last, We Meet Again

I have been utterly terrible at posting my blogs! My mind has been boggled with many things, but that is not a decent excuse, friends. So, I'm dedicating this week to Mythology in a way that I should have been all along, and I promise to be caught up sooner rather than later!

My first order of business: a description of a habit. Easy. My entire life is one big habit!

Sunday: lunch with my mother, read all afternoon if I'm not scheduled to work, late-night movie marathon (I'm usually asleep halfway through the first one.)
Monday night: work, late-night regular at Applebees. (I know, sounds strange. But, there's a group of us that meet every week. Unless you're experiencing serious mythological issues, you had best attend.)
Tuesday late morning: lunch with my best friend in between classes, work after school
Wednesday: Dave's Sushi with the boyfriend. Sometimes we go for lunch or sometimes dinner, depending on my homework load, but its always Dave's, every week.
Thursday late morning: lunch with my best friend in between classes, work after school
Friday: homework day!
Saturday: work, dinner and a movie with the boyfriend

Just cycles, week after week. I find some comfort in that kind of redundancy, that kind of stability. (Psychology majors, eat your hearts out!) Obviously, occasionally the schedule fluctuates because, let's be real here, life happens. And that's just fine.

p.s. I'm still working on the dissection of a page from Calasso!