Here is a post that I've been meaning to write for a while. It has nothing to do with religion, so chill your charged opinions. I merely chose this name because it is a wonderfully convenient one.
No, what I'm talking about today is people. This is another "social science according to Eli" post. People. Specifically those we hold in high regard. The ones that seem so much better than us, we don't consider them people. This is something I'm very guilty of. There are a good number of people who I've done this to, and I still very much like these people. Even so, I've come to the opinion that this sort of behavior is unhealthy. The reason is twofold.
The first is on the behalf of our opinion of the person we are idolizing. I'm not talking celebrities here, I'm talking the ones on the local level. The genius in math. The incredible artist. The undefeated athlete. The very fact that we find them so amazing is what is wrong. Yes, they are very good at something. But they are also only human. The way we idolize people makes us forget that. By putting them on a pedestal, we alienate them. This is a bad thing. Treating somebody as more than they are is bad, and it affects more than just them. It affects us. By believing them to be somebody they're not, we miss the opportunity to learn who they are.
The other problem is perhaps even more self-detrimental. The same way we exaggerate the greatness of idols, we tear down ourselves. We see them as something we could never be, and feel mediocre in comparison to their greatness. Sometimes, this is inevitable. I'm not going to be the quarterback. But I don't care about that, because I don't man crush on football players. But I digress. Although it is inevitable that most of these people will remain better than you, that's not a good way to think. When we see these idols as who they are, it becomes significantly easier to reach their level of prowess. As a matter of fact, it is this manner of thought that I'm living by right now.
Moral: don't view other people as better than you. View them as a challenge.
Peace out, readers.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
Crime and Punishment, Part II
This is the assignment proper. I cannot print off my notes, so instead I am putting them here. My notes independent of the assignment can be found a few posts back. These are the ones designed to fulfill the requirements of the summer assignment, rather than for personal understanding or interpretation, divided exactly as the assignment said to.
Allusion
The main example of allusion in this book, and the one that is most relevant, is that toward the story of Lazarus in the NT. The story acts as a parallel toward Raskolnikov's own struggle, with his crime being his death, and his self-conviction and punishment serve as rebirth.
The other frequent allusion is toward Napoleon, through which Raskolnikov makes his justification. He uses him to promote a utilitarian viewpoint, and states that he could be a Napoleon, circumstances permitting.
Diction
There is nothing about diction that serves as a plot device, but it does help with establishing our opinion of the author. Though using a mostly commonplace lexicon, the author occasionally throws in a wrench like "tacit" or "apropos".
Connotation
An important device in this tale, but only picked up on by reading supplementary material. In the original Russian, "Punishment" did not imply the harsh bleakness that it does through our American version of the word, but rather, also carries another meaning, closer to "redemption". Raskolnikov spends maybe five pages of the book in formal punishment, but the punishment stated in the title applies throughout the book: a trip to redemption.
Irony
Perhaps under "Irony" is not the best place to put this example, but Raskolnikov's comparison to other characters, particularly Svidrigaïlov. While they follow strangely similar paths, Raskolnikov's crime is much more severe and bloody, as well as being driven by what superficially appears to be a much more selfish cause. The irony comes in when you realize that karma messed up its job pretty badly. Raskolnikov, despite being in a position that should make him despicable, is still the protagonist, and perhaps one of the more woobie characters in the book.
A more straightforward example can be found concerning dramatic irony. When we find that Svidrigaïlov was sitting on the other side of the wall, the author creates a sense of drama that he leaves hanging for like seven freaking chapters.
Tone
Tone is a strange word to describe the way the author writes, with perhaps "style" being more appropriate. The way the author writes very effectively communicates the frenzied mind of Raskolnikov. Though the viewpoint is third person, we still experience Raskolnikov's feels. The writing feels quick and fragmented, filled with a plethora of ellipses. Additionally, Raskolnikov's mood toward other characters is reflected in the writing of the passages. Porfiry's dialogue is filled with "ha, ha!"s, while the writing seems to slow down and become peaceful around Dounia.
Syntax
See the above paragraph.
Paradox
The character of Raskolnikov himself, though not a true paradox, certainly qualifies. He simultaneously is the most charitable and base character in the book. The irony here (oh look, another literary device) is that both are driven from his insane desire to become a little Napoleon.
Euphemism
A surprisingly prevalent device. Though the book touches on some very adult themes, including alcoholism, pedophilia, prostitution, murder, and suicide, the author seems to almost go out of his way to avoid talking about them directly. To an extent, having to infer what the author is talking about almost makes the truth more shocking. The most memorable example is Svidrigaïlov's "on my own" chapter, in which he keeps asserting that he's "going to America". The oddness of the euphemism plus the shock of what happens in the end adds toward the harrowing experience provided by the chapter.
Simile
Raskolnikov is like Svidrigaïlov, Sonia, and Lazarus. That enough simile for you?
Author's purpose
There's quite a bit to say on this one, but I'll keep it laconic. On the surface, the main purpose is to tell the story of a man who killed an old woman. But dig three inches deeper, and many more meaning come to the surface. The tale is one of the poverty Drotovesky himself found while writing it. It is a filibuster toward current Russian politics. It is a study of how a man can come to think of himself as more powerful than those around him, and an investigation of the tugs of guilt. It's a parable showing how what good people can be bad, and how bad people can be good. It is a story of rebirth, and a call to Christianity.
Alright folks, that's all. I've fulfilled the assignment with exactness, I hope you enjoyed it.
Peace out, readers.
Allusion
The main example of allusion in this book, and the one that is most relevant, is that toward the story of Lazarus in the NT. The story acts as a parallel toward Raskolnikov's own struggle, with his crime being his death, and his self-conviction and punishment serve as rebirth.
The other frequent allusion is toward Napoleon, through which Raskolnikov makes his justification. He uses him to promote a utilitarian viewpoint, and states that he could be a Napoleon, circumstances permitting.
Diction
There is nothing about diction that serves as a plot device, but it does help with establishing our opinion of the author. Though using a mostly commonplace lexicon, the author occasionally throws in a wrench like "tacit" or "apropos".
Connotation
An important device in this tale, but only picked up on by reading supplementary material. In the original Russian, "Punishment" did not imply the harsh bleakness that it does through our American version of the word, but rather, also carries another meaning, closer to "redemption". Raskolnikov spends maybe five pages of the book in formal punishment, but the punishment stated in the title applies throughout the book: a trip to redemption.
Irony
Perhaps under "Irony" is not the best place to put this example, but Raskolnikov's comparison to other characters, particularly Svidrigaïlov. While they follow strangely similar paths, Raskolnikov's crime is much more severe and bloody, as well as being driven by what superficially appears to be a much more selfish cause. The irony comes in when you realize that karma messed up its job pretty badly. Raskolnikov, despite being in a position that should make him despicable, is still the protagonist, and perhaps one of the more woobie characters in the book.
A more straightforward example can be found concerning dramatic irony. When we find that Svidrigaïlov was sitting on the other side of the wall, the author creates a sense of drama that he leaves hanging for like seven freaking chapters.
Tone
Tone is a strange word to describe the way the author writes, with perhaps "style" being more appropriate. The way the author writes very effectively communicates the frenzied mind of Raskolnikov. Though the viewpoint is third person, we still experience Raskolnikov's feels. The writing feels quick and fragmented, filled with a plethora of ellipses. Additionally, Raskolnikov's mood toward other characters is reflected in the writing of the passages. Porfiry's dialogue is filled with "ha, ha!"s, while the writing seems to slow down and become peaceful around Dounia.
Syntax
See the above paragraph.
Paradox
The character of Raskolnikov himself, though not a true paradox, certainly qualifies. He simultaneously is the most charitable and base character in the book. The irony here (oh look, another literary device) is that both are driven from his insane desire to become a little Napoleon.
Euphemism
A surprisingly prevalent device. Though the book touches on some very adult themes, including alcoholism, pedophilia, prostitution, murder, and suicide, the author seems to almost go out of his way to avoid talking about them directly. To an extent, having to infer what the author is talking about almost makes the truth more shocking. The most memorable example is Svidrigaïlov's "on my own" chapter, in which he keeps asserting that he's "going to America". The oddness of the euphemism plus the shock of what happens in the end adds toward the harrowing experience provided by the chapter.
Simile
Raskolnikov is like Svidrigaïlov, Sonia, and Lazarus. That enough simile for you?
Author's purpose
There's quite a bit to say on this one, but I'll keep it laconic. On the surface, the main purpose is to tell the story of a man who killed an old woman. But dig three inches deeper, and many more meaning come to the surface. The tale is one of the poverty Drotovesky himself found while writing it. It is a filibuster toward current Russian politics. It is a study of how a man can come to think of himself as more powerful than those around him, and an investigation of the tugs of guilt. It's a parable showing how what good people can be bad, and how bad people can be good. It is a story of rebirth, and a call to Christianity.
Alright folks, that's all. I've fulfilled the assignment with exactness, I hope you enjoyed it.
Peace out, readers.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Thoughts From The Car
My dear brother is making excellent use of his car time to do his summer assignment. The assignment is simple enough: a single essay. The prompt: Describe the culture of Spokane.
What a stupid prompt.
This assignment would have been a good one say, 100 years ago, but it's absolutely undoable today. The reason for this, of course, is that we live in televised, instant-communication, standardized America. Because of this, the "culture" of Spokane is indistinguishable from the culture of the rest of the USA. Asking students to isolate bits of culture that are uniquely Spokanite is a nearly impossible task. The shoes we wear? The popular clothing brands? The music that makes its way to the top of the chart? It's the same all across the country.
The other beef I have with this assignment is that even if Spokane does have some relatively unique facets of culture--dominating political views, local attractions, etc.--They are a pain to identify. It's easy to spot the culture of another country, even another city, but it's impossible to define your own. Like the smell of your house, "local culture" is something we become immune to noticing.
A city is perhaps the most awkward level to analyze culture on. As I've previously stated, a nation has a culture, perhaps a state has a culture, but not a city like Spokane. A city falls in the bracket of being too small to be national, but too large to be intimate. Within small groups of friends, even in a group as large as a school, it is perfectly possible for culture to develop. The little inside jokes we share with our compeers becomes part of our language, mannerisms start being duplicated, and the group grows together. There is a debate culture. There is a Startalk culture, there's a Spokane Stake culture, there's even a bit of a Ferris culture. But there is no Spokane culture. I have nothing in common with the folks downtown, cannot hope to relate with the kids in the valley.
As for culture on the city level, it is merely a smaller model of national culture. This essay is pointless because we cannot pinpoint a culture unique to Spokane. Rather, we can only see the way the country's trends are emulated by a town pretending to have significance.
End rant.
Peace out, readers.
What a stupid prompt.
This assignment would have been a good one say, 100 years ago, but it's absolutely undoable today. The reason for this, of course, is that we live in televised, instant-communication, standardized America. Because of this, the "culture" of Spokane is indistinguishable from the culture of the rest of the USA. Asking students to isolate bits of culture that are uniquely Spokanite is a nearly impossible task. The shoes we wear? The popular clothing brands? The music that makes its way to the top of the chart? It's the same all across the country.
The other beef I have with this assignment is that even if Spokane does have some relatively unique facets of culture--dominating political views, local attractions, etc.--They are a pain to identify. It's easy to spot the culture of another country, even another city, but it's impossible to define your own. Like the smell of your house, "local culture" is something we become immune to noticing.
A city is perhaps the most awkward level to analyze culture on. As I've previously stated, a nation has a culture, perhaps a state has a culture, but not a city like Spokane. A city falls in the bracket of being too small to be national, but too large to be intimate. Within small groups of friends, even in a group as large as a school, it is perfectly possible for culture to develop. The little inside jokes we share with our compeers becomes part of our language, mannerisms start being duplicated, and the group grows together. There is a debate culture. There is a Startalk culture, there's a Spokane Stake culture, there's even a bit of a Ferris culture. But there is no Spokane culture. I have nothing in common with the folks downtown, cannot hope to relate with the kids in the valley.
As for culture on the city level, it is merely a smaller model of national culture. This essay is pointless because we cannot pinpoint a culture unique to Spokane. Rather, we can only see the way the country's trends are emulated by a town pretending to have significance.
End rant.
Peace out, readers.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Decent People
There is a longstanding belief most of us hold, however unconsciously. We believe that if we are good, decent people, and go through our day acting cheerful and nice to everyone, people will hold a higher respect for us. That some good karma will come back around and give us a nice boost, or that we will earn the admiration of the public.
Nope.
Fact is, nice people get screwed over. An example of this occurred when my brother and I helped unpack the car as we landed by the small house we would all be staying in. As we did so, our other four siblings immediately went into the house, picking out their beds as we continued to haul suitcases. The result: although my brother and I are the largest and perhaps most deserving of a decent bed, we ended up on the floor on half-inch thick pads.
Events such as these, the insignificant, petty unfairnesses of life beg the question: why? Why, when I try to be so good, do I end up at the bottom of the pecking order?
The answer is a sad one. We consider it a crime for anyone to take advantage of the foolish compliance bestowed by our benevolence, and yet, we are hypocrites in this regard. When we see someone acting with good will, our first course of action is to hop on this opportunity. We are so eager for a cheap opportunity for unprotested sacrifice for our own gain that we forget how mug we hate having it done on ourselves.
This leads to a vicious cycle. Because this persistent mugging of goodwill, those decent people begin to turn sour. They realize that as a decent person, they commanded no respect. This causes them to turn from lives of decency to more scumbaggery ways. These new, harder, cynical people point and laugh at the group they once were, and the seeds of corruption are planted a second time.
The moral of this post is don't be a jerkish idiot.
I wrote this at 1:30 in the morning. This post may or may not make sense.
Peace out, readers.
Nope.
Fact is, nice people get screwed over. An example of this occurred when my brother and I helped unpack the car as we landed by the small house we would all be staying in. As we did so, our other four siblings immediately went into the house, picking out their beds as we continued to haul suitcases. The result: although my brother and I are the largest and perhaps most deserving of a decent bed, we ended up on the floor on half-inch thick pads.
Events such as these, the insignificant, petty unfairnesses of life beg the question: why? Why, when I try to be so good, do I end up at the bottom of the pecking order?
The answer is a sad one. We consider it a crime for anyone to take advantage of the foolish compliance bestowed by our benevolence, and yet, we are hypocrites in this regard. When we see someone acting with good will, our first course of action is to hop on this opportunity. We are so eager for a cheap opportunity for unprotested sacrifice for our own gain that we forget how mug we hate having it done on ourselves.
This leads to a vicious cycle. Because this persistent mugging of goodwill, those decent people begin to turn sour. They realize that as a decent person, they commanded no respect. This causes them to turn from lives of decency to more scumbaggery ways. These new, harder, cynical people point and laugh at the group they once were, and the seeds of corruption are planted a second time.
The moral of this post is don't be a jerkish idiot.
I wrote this at 1:30 in the morning. This post may or may not make sense.
Peace out, readers.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Crime and Punishment: Character Analysis
Having finished reading the book recently, I feel the need to jot down all my thoughts on it, so I can move onto other books and do a detail dump. I start today with the characters.
To those who enjoy reading books without spoilers, feel free to leave at this time. Here begins the analysis.
RASKOLNIKOV
The main character of the book, from whose perspective we see the events. From the very beginning of the book, we see the seeds of his idea begin to form, then followed through. Although he is a murderer seven chapters in, Raskolnikov is the closest thing the book has to a protagonist. Therefore, we are expected as the audience to sympathize with him. And that we do. The book masterfully allows the reader to feel the frenzy racing through Raskolnikov's head, his inner turmoils, his rationalizations. Indeed, it is almost scary how easy it is to sympathize with him.
A notable trait of his is the polarization of what he does. It is established early on that Raskolnikov is an extremely charitable man, to the point of foolishness. He continually dumps out his wallet to complete strangers. At the same time, he is capable of commuting an atrocity to the degree of murder. As much as these two traits seem different, however, they are, in reality, the same. Both are impulsive acts, and no matter what he preaches, Raskolnikov's actions are never self-profitable. When he receives payment, he squanders it on people who he views as less fortunate than himself. When he murders the pawnbroker, he feels no need to spend the money he gained, but rather to hide it away, untouched. Both show the same spontaneous action on Raskolnikov's part that does not allow for self-gain. Indeed, his whole rationalization was that by murdering the old woman, he would be helping society as a whole.
Related to his selflessness, Raskolnikov shows an intense care for his family. Upon meeting Luzhin for the first time, he received a much less welcome greeting than even the one that is normally expected from the elder brother. He is shouted down as a narcissistic manipulator, which of course was entirely true. Raskolnikov constantly channels the delirium granted by his fever to shout down anyone who comes near his family. This same protection is what drove him to attempt to leave his family without notifying them of why. To his dear mother, he was a ray of goodness, and he had to let that image stand.
Another important thing to understand about Raskolnikov is the way he is brought to confession. In the interest of time, that will wait for a future post. Time to move on to other characters.
RAZUMIHIN
Razumihin is the poor best friend who's out of the loop. Early in the book, his main role was to be there for Raskolnikov to faint in front of. At this time, his character isn't very fleshed out, although we can see that he is trying to help as best he can. This limited role is filled rather well, however, as he is shown to be in great indignation when Porfiry so much as suggests Raskolnikov could possibly be guilty.
As we are introduced to Dounia, Razumihin's role starts to shift into a new one: a love interest. However, this role isn't filled in the traditional sense. Razumihin isn't rich, nor is he powerful, nor in any way very remarkable. This is in stark contrast to the other gentlemen who fall for Dounia. The other unique facet concerning the way Razumihin fills this role is how he is introduced into it. He is not some character that comes out if nowhere on a white stallion to join the family, but rather, he replaces the list brother. But as a brother that happens to be marry-able.
Dounia
The younger sister of Raskolnikov. She is portrayed as being a good woman being chased by bad men, the sort of girl who, despite (or perhaps because of) her good nature, is sought over by the most vile of fellows. Her dealings with the courtship of Luzhin show that although she holds a certain deal of self respect, she is also very passive, and willing to endure hardships for the sake of her family.
Despite being family, Dounia does not act as Raskolnikov's confidante. Indeed, he seems perpetually irritated by her presence. Despite his seeming stand offishness, however, Raskolnikov is very fast to point out Luzhin for the scumbag he is, for which his sister seems grateful. Dounia, though kept in the background, does much in ways of moving the plot. Her character shows a tragic tendency of those who esteem themselves powerful: the desire to rule. She was the target of both Luzhin and Svidrigaïlov specifically because she was poor.
The moment that Dounia's character becomes the most powerful is shortly before the end of the book. When cornered by Svidrigaïlov, we see her less passive side. Although she is armed then, it is her own attitude that becomes her most powerful weapon.
LUZHIN
Although his role is comparatively minor, Luzhin is still noteworthy. This guy was the scumbag who was paired off to marry Dounia. He is shown to be extremely narcissistic, feeling his own title to be the most important part of his marriage.
He is also shown to be petty. When he slips the money into Sonia's pocket, it is an attempt to humiliate both her and the Raskolnikovs. This provides a nice foil to Raskolnikov's actions of charity. While Raskolnikov was so base as to murder an old woman, Luzhin was a gentleman in high standing. While Raskolnikov's actions are almost always done in an earnest effort to help those around him, Luzhin's efforts were a deceitful play for self-gain.
PORFIRY
This story's Inspector Javert, with one major difference: He's right. The similarities are astonishing. Porfiry's sole task becomes driving Raskolnikov to confession, despite not having proper proof that it was he who committed the crime. Going by a single newspaper editorial, Porfiry makes a bold accusation at Raskolnikov, then spends the rest of the book trying to do it.
Interesting to note is that in all their encounters, Porfiry's text is regularly interrupted with his own laughter. Porfiry's style of interview is playing mind games, something a great number of characters in this book do. Raskolnikov, of course, is anticipating this. The scary part is that Porfiry is really freaking good at his job. Raskolnikov finds himself outmatched at every turn.
Also of importance is that although he chooses to turn himself in, Raskolnikov refuses to confess to Porfiry. In this allegory, Porfiry represents forced repentance. It is something to be avoided. This route of forced confession would have led to the same end, but the emotional coming of age would be lost.
SONIA
Raskolnikov's morality pet. Although presented as being impossibly pure, she works as a prostitute. This, perhaps, is what draws Raskolnikov to her. He sees another destitute soul, and together they ask healing. Although the book focuses on the crime and punishment of Raskolnikov, it can just as easily be applied to Sonia.
Sonia is perhaps the closest thing this book has to a love interest for Raskolnikov. Again, this role is filled in an unusual way. Although there are no confessions of love, no public hand-holding or scenes that our mommies don't want us to see, there is a very obvious hint of love. Not the "you have a six-pack, let's make out" kind, but a deeper, emotional connection. Sonia fills the role Raskolnikov's family could not, pushes him toward confession, and does not shun him for what he does.
This is all the more noteworthy when we remember that one of the women Raskolnikov murdered was Sonia's friend, Lizaveta. Almost with impossible altruism, she forgives him, and gives him Lizavita's old cross. In a way, he is redeemed by taking up the burden of his cross, which could only be bestowed by Sonia.
SVIDRIGAÏLOV
A character that is scarily similar to Raskolnikov, and the closest thing the book has to an antagonist. The most obvious similarity is the weight of their crimes. Between the two of them, although they are enemies, they find somebody who understands what it is like living with the guilt of having killed someone. A more subtle common trait is their shared extreme charity. Additionally, Svidrigaïlov is, like Raskolnikov, visited upon by nightmares.
Interesting to note is that these actions seem to come almost in reverse for Raskolnikov as they do for Svidrigaïlov. Raskolnikov is first shown as being charitable, receiving his first of many messed up dreams, then eventually murder. Svidrigaïlov starts out a murderer, then is haunted by nightmares, then finishes with charity. Raskolnikov's journey ends in redemption, Svidrigaïlov's in disgrace.
That went way longer than intended.
Peace out, readers.
To those who enjoy reading books without spoilers, feel free to leave at this time. Here begins the analysis.
RASKOLNIKOV
The main character of the book, from whose perspective we see the events. From the very beginning of the book, we see the seeds of his idea begin to form, then followed through. Although he is a murderer seven chapters in, Raskolnikov is the closest thing the book has to a protagonist. Therefore, we are expected as the audience to sympathize with him. And that we do. The book masterfully allows the reader to feel the frenzy racing through Raskolnikov's head, his inner turmoils, his rationalizations. Indeed, it is almost scary how easy it is to sympathize with him.
A notable trait of his is the polarization of what he does. It is established early on that Raskolnikov is an extremely charitable man, to the point of foolishness. He continually dumps out his wallet to complete strangers. At the same time, he is capable of commuting an atrocity to the degree of murder. As much as these two traits seem different, however, they are, in reality, the same. Both are impulsive acts, and no matter what he preaches, Raskolnikov's actions are never self-profitable. When he receives payment, he squanders it on people who he views as less fortunate than himself. When he murders the pawnbroker, he feels no need to spend the money he gained, but rather to hide it away, untouched. Both show the same spontaneous action on Raskolnikov's part that does not allow for self-gain. Indeed, his whole rationalization was that by murdering the old woman, he would be helping society as a whole.
Related to his selflessness, Raskolnikov shows an intense care for his family. Upon meeting Luzhin for the first time, he received a much less welcome greeting than even the one that is normally expected from the elder brother. He is shouted down as a narcissistic manipulator, which of course was entirely true. Raskolnikov constantly channels the delirium granted by his fever to shout down anyone who comes near his family. This same protection is what drove him to attempt to leave his family without notifying them of why. To his dear mother, he was a ray of goodness, and he had to let that image stand.
Another important thing to understand about Raskolnikov is the way he is brought to confession. In the interest of time, that will wait for a future post. Time to move on to other characters.
RAZUMIHIN
Razumihin is the poor best friend who's out of the loop. Early in the book, his main role was to be there for Raskolnikov to faint in front of. At this time, his character isn't very fleshed out, although we can see that he is trying to help as best he can. This limited role is filled rather well, however, as he is shown to be in great indignation when Porfiry so much as suggests Raskolnikov could possibly be guilty.
As we are introduced to Dounia, Razumihin's role starts to shift into a new one: a love interest. However, this role isn't filled in the traditional sense. Razumihin isn't rich, nor is he powerful, nor in any way very remarkable. This is in stark contrast to the other gentlemen who fall for Dounia. The other unique facet concerning the way Razumihin fills this role is how he is introduced into it. He is not some character that comes out if nowhere on a white stallion to join the family, but rather, he replaces the list brother. But as a brother that happens to be marry-able.
Dounia
The younger sister of Raskolnikov. She is portrayed as being a good woman being chased by bad men, the sort of girl who, despite (or perhaps because of) her good nature, is sought over by the most vile of fellows. Her dealings with the courtship of Luzhin show that although she holds a certain deal of self respect, she is also very passive, and willing to endure hardships for the sake of her family.
Despite being family, Dounia does not act as Raskolnikov's confidante. Indeed, he seems perpetually irritated by her presence. Despite his seeming stand offishness, however, Raskolnikov is very fast to point out Luzhin for the scumbag he is, for which his sister seems grateful. Dounia, though kept in the background, does much in ways of moving the plot. Her character shows a tragic tendency of those who esteem themselves powerful: the desire to rule. She was the target of both Luzhin and Svidrigaïlov specifically because she was poor.
The moment that Dounia's character becomes the most powerful is shortly before the end of the book. When cornered by Svidrigaïlov, we see her less passive side. Although she is armed then, it is her own attitude that becomes her most powerful weapon.
LUZHIN
Although his role is comparatively minor, Luzhin is still noteworthy. This guy was the scumbag who was paired off to marry Dounia. He is shown to be extremely narcissistic, feeling his own title to be the most important part of his marriage.
He is also shown to be petty. When he slips the money into Sonia's pocket, it is an attempt to humiliate both her and the Raskolnikovs. This provides a nice foil to Raskolnikov's actions of charity. While Raskolnikov was so base as to murder an old woman, Luzhin was a gentleman in high standing. While Raskolnikov's actions are almost always done in an earnest effort to help those around him, Luzhin's efforts were a deceitful play for self-gain.
PORFIRY
This story's Inspector Javert, with one major difference: He's right. The similarities are astonishing. Porfiry's sole task becomes driving Raskolnikov to confession, despite not having proper proof that it was he who committed the crime. Going by a single newspaper editorial, Porfiry makes a bold accusation at Raskolnikov, then spends the rest of the book trying to do it.
Interesting to note is that in all their encounters, Porfiry's text is regularly interrupted with his own laughter. Porfiry's style of interview is playing mind games, something a great number of characters in this book do. Raskolnikov, of course, is anticipating this. The scary part is that Porfiry is really freaking good at his job. Raskolnikov finds himself outmatched at every turn.
Also of importance is that although he chooses to turn himself in, Raskolnikov refuses to confess to Porfiry. In this allegory, Porfiry represents forced repentance. It is something to be avoided. This route of forced confession would have led to the same end, but the emotional coming of age would be lost.
SONIA
Raskolnikov's morality pet. Although presented as being impossibly pure, she works as a prostitute. This, perhaps, is what draws Raskolnikov to her. He sees another destitute soul, and together they ask healing. Although the book focuses on the crime and punishment of Raskolnikov, it can just as easily be applied to Sonia.
Sonia is perhaps the closest thing this book has to a love interest for Raskolnikov. Again, this role is filled in an unusual way. Although there are no confessions of love, no public hand-holding or scenes that our mommies don't want us to see, there is a very obvious hint of love. Not the "you have a six-pack, let's make out" kind, but a deeper, emotional connection. Sonia fills the role Raskolnikov's family could not, pushes him toward confession, and does not shun him for what he does.
This is all the more noteworthy when we remember that one of the women Raskolnikov murdered was Sonia's friend, Lizaveta. Almost with impossible altruism, she forgives him, and gives him Lizavita's old cross. In a way, he is redeemed by taking up the burden of his cross, which could only be bestowed by Sonia.
SVIDRIGAÏLOV
A character that is scarily similar to Raskolnikov, and the closest thing the book has to an antagonist. The most obvious similarity is the weight of their crimes. Between the two of them, although they are enemies, they find somebody who understands what it is like living with the guilt of having killed someone. A more subtle common trait is their shared extreme charity. Additionally, Svidrigaïlov is, like Raskolnikov, visited upon by nightmares.
Interesting to note is that these actions seem to come almost in reverse for Raskolnikov as they do for Svidrigaïlov. Raskolnikov is first shown as being charitable, receiving his first of many messed up dreams, then eventually murder. Svidrigaïlov starts out a murderer, then is haunted by nightmares, then finishes with charity. Raskolnikov's journey ends in redemption, Svidrigaïlov's in disgrace.
That went way longer than intended.
Peace out, readers.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Song Interpretation One: Peaches
It's been eight days since I've updated the blog. I told myself I wouldn't be that person. So I'm updating again. The problem is that nothing's happened in my life, so instead, I'll interpret song lyrics.
Now, this is a post that I thought of over two months ago, when I was in China. According to our dear tour guide, peaches are a symbol of longevity. This puts a brand new light on the song by The Presidents of the same name. Let's go through the lyrics, shall we?
"Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches"
This verse, though very repetitive, establishes the basis of the song. The lodestar of the song is the peach, which, as we discussed, is a metaphor for longevity. The first four lines make very clear the author's goal: to obtain immortality, or at least come very close. The means are also out there in the open. The author intends to separate himself from modern, urban society to further his quest for a long, tranquil life. Also revealed in this verse is the rather selfish desires of the author. The process is described as "eat[ing] a lot of peaches". The imagery associated with this picture is a hedonistic one. The author shows no concern other than their own indulgence, that quest for a long life.
"Peaches come from a can,
They were put there by a man
In a factory downtown."
Almost immediately, the idealism displayed in the first lines is juxtaposed by a gritty picture. This line can be interpreted two ways:
1) Longevity, while dressed up to be a nice, natural picture, is actually a manufactured dream. The author's wish for longevity is built on the back of the work of others. The factory worker is a tragic fallen hero, whose work it is to provide artificial happiness to others. Much like the rodeo clown, his purpose is to pretend that both his work and the work of his audience means something.
2) The other meaning is just as cynical. The peach is still a very real, tangible goal. However, in order to obtain the peaches, technology is an essential middle man. Despite the beliefs of the author, longevity is not found through retreating from society, but by being a part of it. Alongside this integration is all the problems inherent with longevity. It can be obtained through modern technology, yes, but at what cost? Man gains a long life, but becomes a slave to his work in the process.
"If I had my little way, I'd eat peaches every day.
Sun-soaked bulges in the shade."
Despite pointing out the problems with the quest for longevity not one line before, the author returns to his selfish views on the subject. The author is well aware of the pain and problems associated with peaches, yet perseveres with his self-centered opinion. The shade represents his ignorance, which the author chooses to remain in as he fuels his indulgences.
"Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches"
The chorus repeats, but now that we've seen the pain caused by the peaches, it no longer has a happy, hopeful tone, but a sad, ironic one.
"I took a little nap where the roots all twist,
Squished a rotten peach in my fist,
And dreamed about you, woman."
Here, We see a change in heart on part of the author. Tired of his quest, he lays down for a rest. As he does so, he realizes that the corrupt nature of his dream caused it to rot, and there he squishes it. At the base of the spiteful tree that fueled his desires, he begins to rethink his goal. What drove him to do so? His dreams, involving a woman. One can only assume that the girl mentioned is the author's sweetheart. The author is able to overstep his selfish quest by replacing his hollow desire with a fulfilling one: only now does he realize that an empty life remains empty, regardless of length. He is able to shift his desires toward a short, meaningful life, rather than a long, pointless one.
"Put my finger down inside,
Made a little room for an ant to hide,
Nature's candy in my hand or can, or pie."
Again, the man realizes that in his quest for a long life, he subconsciously has dug a hole in his own trophy, which has allowed corruption to sneak inside, and hide itself. His own prize has rotted upon itself, because of his unconscious attempts to find amusement in his life.
The second half of this verse shows that the author hasn't completely reverted. He still finds enjoyment in peaches, as shown by him calling them "nature's candy". However, upon listing pie as one of the options, he stumbles onto what is perhaps the greatest revelation that the song contains: The peach, although an excellent fruit, was not meant to be enjoyed on its own. Rather, it is a garnish to better things. The best way to enjoy a peach is not alone, but by making it part of a greater desert.
Unfortunately, the song's moral is forgotten, leading into the final chorus:
"Millions of peaches,
Peaches for me.
Millions of peaches,
Peaches for free."
By the end of the song, the author has forgotten that he has better things to strive for? Why? Because of his lust for longevity. His nobler goals are lost under a heap of millions of peaches. What is worse is the author's perception that the peaches were free. In his indulgence, he has completely forgotten the plight of the factory worker, the sacrifice to modern technology, and the girl of his dreams. His love of peaches has led him onto a road of lonely sadness.
The story of peaches is a sad one indeed. Of course, I'm sure this wasn't the meaning The Presidents had in mind, but it sure is a fun and surprisingly valid interpretation.
Peace out, readers.
Now, this is a post that I thought of over two months ago, when I was in China. According to our dear tour guide, peaches are a symbol of longevity. This puts a brand new light on the song by The Presidents of the same name. Let's go through the lyrics, shall we?
"Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches"
This verse, though very repetitive, establishes the basis of the song. The lodestar of the song is the peach, which, as we discussed, is a metaphor for longevity. The first four lines make very clear the author's goal: to obtain immortality, or at least come very close. The means are also out there in the open. The author intends to separate himself from modern, urban society to further his quest for a long, tranquil life. Also revealed in this verse is the rather selfish desires of the author. The process is described as "eat[ing] a lot of peaches". The imagery associated with this picture is a hedonistic one. The author shows no concern other than their own indulgence, that quest for a long life.
"Peaches come from a can,
They were put there by a man
In a factory downtown."
Almost immediately, the idealism displayed in the first lines is juxtaposed by a gritty picture. This line can be interpreted two ways:
1) Longevity, while dressed up to be a nice, natural picture, is actually a manufactured dream. The author's wish for longevity is built on the back of the work of others. The factory worker is a tragic fallen hero, whose work it is to provide artificial happiness to others. Much like the rodeo clown, his purpose is to pretend that both his work and the work of his audience means something.
2) The other meaning is just as cynical. The peach is still a very real, tangible goal. However, in order to obtain the peaches, technology is an essential middle man. Despite the beliefs of the author, longevity is not found through retreating from society, but by being a part of it. Alongside this integration is all the problems inherent with longevity. It can be obtained through modern technology, yes, but at what cost? Man gains a long life, but becomes a slave to his work in the process.
"If I had my little way, I'd eat peaches every day.
Sun-soaked bulges in the shade."
Despite pointing out the problems with the quest for longevity not one line before, the author returns to his selfish views on the subject. The author is well aware of the pain and problems associated with peaches, yet perseveres with his self-centered opinion. The shade represents his ignorance, which the author chooses to remain in as he fuels his indulgences.
"Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches,
Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches"
The chorus repeats, but now that we've seen the pain caused by the peaches, it no longer has a happy, hopeful tone, but a sad, ironic one.
"I took a little nap where the roots all twist,
Squished a rotten peach in my fist,
And dreamed about you, woman."
Here, We see a change in heart on part of the author. Tired of his quest, he lays down for a rest. As he does so, he realizes that the corrupt nature of his dream caused it to rot, and there he squishes it. At the base of the spiteful tree that fueled his desires, he begins to rethink his goal. What drove him to do so? His dreams, involving a woman. One can only assume that the girl mentioned is the author's sweetheart. The author is able to overstep his selfish quest by replacing his hollow desire with a fulfilling one: only now does he realize that an empty life remains empty, regardless of length. He is able to shift his desires toward a short, meaningful life, rather than a long, pointless one.
"Put my finger down inside,
Made a little room for an ant to hide,
Nature's candy in my hand or can, or pie."
Again, the man realizes that in his quest for a long life, he subconsciously has dug a hole in his own trophy, which has allowed corruption to sneak inside, and hide itself. His own prize has rotted upon itself, because of his unconscious attempts to find amusement in his life.
The second half of this verse shows that the author hasn't completely reverted. He still finds enjoyment in peaches, as shown by him calling them "nature's candy". However, upon listing pie as one of the options, he stumbles onto what is perhaps the greatest revelation that the song contains: The peach, although an excellent fruit, was not meant to be enjoyed on its own. Rather, it is a garnish to better things. The best way to enjoy a peach is not alone, but by making it part of a greater desert.
Unfortunately, the song's moral is forgotten, leading into the final chorus:
"Millions of peaches,
Peaches for me.
Millions of peaches,
Peaches for free."
By the end of the song, the author has forgotten that he has better things to strive for? Why? Because of his lust for longevity. His nobler goals are lost under a heap of millions of peaches. What is worse is the author's perception that the peaches were free. In his indulgence, he has completely forgotten the plight of the factory worker, the sacrifice to modern technology, and the girl of his dreams. His love of peaches has led him onto a road of lonely sadness.
The story of peaches is a sad one indeed. Of course, I'm sure this wasn't the meaning The Presidents had in mind, but it sure is a fun and surprisingly valid interpretation.
Peace out, readers.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Feels
One of my favorite musical artists out there is Simon and Garfunkel. Their 60s-era music is very calming. What are these songs about? Let's go down the list:
Becoming someone you're not to impress people.
Losing your girlfriend.
Bad weather.
The death of somebody nobody loved.
Wanting to be something else.
The peculiar sensation of when you're sitting with somebody you love, and you've run out of conversation.
Ones you love being far away.
Having to work low-class and pretending to enjoy it.
Self-sacrifice.
Your girlfriend cheating on you.
Growing old.
Missing people.
Civil rights and hate crimes.
Post-crime guilt.
How money doesn't equal happiness.
Graffiti.
Homesickness.
How conforming makes us lose individualism.
The stifling of individual voice.
The struggles of the poor.
...being happy.
Growing old.
The zoo.
Losing artists.
How eventually, all we're left with is memories.
Disillusionment.
Churches burning.
Mid-winter despair.
Forced to something better.
Widowhood.
Not being loved.
Itching for a better life.
Draft-dodging.
The pain caused by stoicism.
As you can see, the vast majority of the songs are somewhat depressing. And yet, it's feel-good music. Why is this?
I suppose that having our feels put into musical form makes them less painful. This is why the blues became so popular. We like listening to our own pain. Even when we're in a good mood, it's still soothing.
That is all for now.
Peace out, readers.
Becoming someone you're not to impress people.
Losing your girlfriend.
Bad weather.
The death of somebody nobody loved.
Wanting to be something else.
The peculiar sensation of when you're sitting with somebody you love, and you've run out of conversation.
Ones you love being far away.
Having to work low-class and pretending to enjoy it.
Self-sacrifice.
Your girlfriend cheating on you.
Growing old.
Missing people.
Civil rights and hate crimes.
Post-crime guilt.
How money doesn't equal happiness.
Graffiti.
Homesickness.
How conforming makes us lose individualism.
The stifling of individual voice.
The struggles of the poor.
...being happy.
Growing old.
The zoo.
Losing artists.
How eventually, all we're left with is memories.
Disillusionment.
Churches burning.
Mid-winter despair.
Forced to something better.
Widowhood.
Not being loved.
Itching for a better life.
Draft-dodging.
The pain caused by stoicism.
As you can see, the vast majority of the songs are somewhat depressing. And yet, it's feel-good music. Why is this?
I suppose that having our feels put into musical form makes them less painful. This is why the blues became so popular. We like listening to our own pain. Even when we're in a good mood, it's still soothing.
That is all for now.
Peace out, readers.
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