I'm sorry if my sentences seem less-refined (as if they weren't before) today, but my brain is operating in post-Prom sluggishness. However, this isn't to say that I haven't had any AP Lit experiences during that fun-filled Saturday night that was void of sleep. After we came back from Waffle House at an early 3:00 in the morning, we decided that maybe watching a dull movie would quiet our senses and lull us to sleep--that, of course, combined with a game of Cards for Humanity (an adult spin-off of Apples to Apples...definitely R-rated). We chose to watch the first of the three-part story The Hobbit, which ended up being the best/worst decision I made that night. On one hand, it was a movie that practically spelled out all of these literary roles we give to characters in a classic hero's journey (it was written by the father of the hero's journey himself: Tolkien); this was the best part about it. The worst part was that it was a 3 hour-long movie and lasted us until the wee hours of the morning. Most of my friends fell like stones when the card game was over and they diverted their attention to the movie. That was when they usually noticed that they didn't actually have any attention left for the movie at all and fell right to sleep. However, I was encaptured by the story itself and my curiosity for the story unfortunately forbade me to go to sleep at all that night.
Many people view this movie as being slow to climax and overall a dull movie--ironically in line with the reviews for the book as well. But being the APLit Scholar that I am (a role that I can't leave behind because it's practically ingrained now), I honestly appreciated the 30 minute-long dialogues, the beautiful scenic shots of the dwarves roaming the countryside, and the ugly, frightening, yet comedic monsters that the company faces alnog the way to the biggest opponent of all: the dragon. If anyone wanted to learn anything about the rules and regulations in creating a hero's journey, one needn't look further than this movie. The development in each of the characters clearly points out the unlikely, yet brave hero (the Hobbit Bilbo Baggins) with his fatal flaw of pessimism; his trusty crew who help him along the way to his final battle (all of the dwarves); a wise old man to advise them in all their decisions (Gandalf); a journey into the deep unconscious where the crew is subject to evil desires they must avoid or conquer in order to be successful (trudging along the wild countryside and fighting fantastically grotesque monsters that can symbolize human ugliness. All of these components contribute to the classic hero's tale, all in an effort to, as Gandalf put it, "change you to be a dfferent man when you return home from your journey."
I will agree, to some extent, that the movie is quite lengthy. The book itself isn't at all like any of the Lord of the Rings books; it looks like a regularly-sized novel. However, the content of the book is so heavy that the director split up a 400-page novel into 3 movies, something that I'm still having trouble believing. However, after watching the first movie I understand a bit better the detail that goes with making a great interpretation of Tolkien's famous book, and I'm super nerdily excited for the next two movies to see how it all plays out.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
What does Happy Mean?
So I just finished reading Memoirs of A Geisha.
I've read lots of books--good books, bad books, ok books--but this one tops them all off in terms of vivid imagination and beautiful scenery that burns in the back of the mind. I noticed this as I would force myself to stop reading once in a while so as not to get too ahead of myself. I would be washing the dishes, or walking in class, and my mind would procure an image so intricate in detail, such as a geisha gliding in a garden with a beautiful red kimono, that I'd trick my mind into believing I've seen this scene from an old movie. Nevertheless, this scene--and so many more--come from simple words on paper. It's never been any easier to imagine the setting, the actions, and the characters moving, speaking, and emoting while I read this book, and I loved every moment of it.
But like all good things, they all come to an end. I don't know how I really felt as I read the last page of Chiyo's memoir; should I feel happy or disappointed in Chiyo? There's no doubt that she's happy with what she's done in her life; she manages to stay with the Chairman after the 15-year dance into his life, despite all the obstacles. She's moderately wealthy, and in terms of status she's partying with the same ranks as the wealthiest men of Japan, from Generals to presidents to art directors. When I try to find Chiyo's true happiness, however, I realize that she's never truly happy until she ends up with the Chairman, and this doesn't happen until the ending chapters! How do you judge her quality of life when she's miserable for more than 3/4 of the novel? It makes me question whether or not Chiyo had the better life over Satsu; our literature group acknowledged this question, but didn't have enough time to discuss it. On one hand we have Chiyo, who has a definitely higher quality of life than a majority of Japanese citizens during this time period; she may have been treated like trash for the first couple of years in the okiya, but she was more-or-less guaranteed a bed to sleep in every night, food to eat, and some type of education that gavel her skills to use in the future. Later on, she's treated like royalty when she becomes a famous geisha and daughter of the okiya owner, and anything she asks, she will receive. She is the breadwinner of the whole house, making more money than we could ever imagine, in the form of jewels, donations, kimono, makeup…anything, really. What's really sad is that Chiyo never realizes how much of a better life--socioeconomically, at least--she has in comparison to other people. She gets a small taste, an inkling of it, when the war hits, of course. She burdens some of the harsh realities that Japanese citizens had to face in the wake of the war (rations, working, poverty), but what she had to endure in a mere 4-5 years, other Japanese have been struggling against their whole lives. It's almost shameful to say that Chiyo doesn't see how lucky she is to have a pretty face and extraordinary eyes, for they are what push her to become a famous geisha, not just her drive to become one.
Satsu, on the other hand, got the short end of the stick. Through first impressions, or perhaps solely by luck, she ends up in a whore house instead of an okiya, and this leads her to take drastic measures to escape such a hellhole. She could never afford such a life as her geisha sister unless she married into wealth (which I doubt she did). Her living conditions were probably sub-par to Chiyo's rich lifestyle. But what does this say about Satsu's happiness? Sure, she can't afford to wear thousands of dollars' worth of kimono, but does this put her emotional quality of life above Chiyo's? After escaping alone from Kyoto, we only have one other connection back to Satsu in the book, which is when Chiyo gets a letter from Mr. Ichiro who brings bad news of her parents' health. He mentions that Satsu ran off with the village boy, and that's that. It opens up a variety possibilities as to her whereabouts, and I can't definitively say that Chiyo led the happier life instead of her sister. She may have had the easier life, sure; but if Satsu really loved that boy and they got married, despite the troubles of everyday life and poverty, wouldn't she be the happier sister instead of Chiyo, who spends half her life chasing another man? This is what really depresses me, that the protagonist is forced to accept her geisha life, putting her happiness in the backseat for later. What's the point of all her wealth and parties if it's all for nothing? It may look like fun and games to put makeup on and entertain men all your life, but it's a wonder to me how Chiyo didn't end up like Hatsumomo, or even Mameha (who was forced into 3 abortions by her donna). Chiyo is considered extremely lucky even now, as she puts aside her happiness until the very end. This was what made the book such a struggle to read, because all I wanted was to see Chiyo happy, but now that she's happy in the end of the book I'm disappointed that her happiness wasn't discussed further in the book.
I've read lots of books--good books, bad books, ok books--but this one tops them all off in terms of vivid imagination and beautiful scenery that burns in the back of the mind. I noticed this as I would force myself to stop reading once in a while so as not to get too ahead of myself. I would be washing the dishes, or walking in class, and my mind would procure an image so intricate in detail, such as a geisha gliding in a garden with a beautiful red kimono, that I'd trick my mind into believing I've seen this scene from an old movie. Nevertheless, this scene--and so many more--come from simple words on paper. It's never been any easier to imagine the setting, the actions, and the characters moving, speaking, and emoting while I read this book, and I loved every moment of it.
But like all good things, they all come to an end. I don't know how I really felt as I read the last page of Chiyo's memoir; should I feel happy or disappointed in Chiyo? There's no doubt that she's happy with what she's done in her life; she manages to stay with the Chairman after the 15-year dance into his life, despite all the obstacles. She's moderately wealthy, and in terms of status she's partying with the same ranks as the wealthiest men of Japan, from Generals to presidents to art directors. When I try to find Chiyo's true happiness, however, I realize that she's never truly happy until she ends up with the Chairman, and this doesn't happen until the ending chapters! How do you judge her quality of life when she's miserable for more than 3/4 of the novel? It makes me question whether or not Chiyo had the better life over Satsu; our literature group acknowledged this question, but didn't have enough time to discuss it. On one hand we have Chiyo, who has a definitely higher quality of life than a majority of Japanese citizens during this time period; she may have been treated like trash for the first couple of years in the okiya, but she was more-or-less guaranteed a bed to sleep in every night, food to eat, and some type of education that gavel her skills to use in the future. Later on, she's treated like royalty when she becomes a famous geisha and daughter of the okiya owner, and anything she asks, she will receive. She is the breadwinner of the whole house, making more money than we could ever imagine, in the form of jewels, donations, kimono, makeup…anything, really. What's really sad is that Chiyo never realizes how much of a better life--socioeconomically, at least--she has in comparison to other people. She gets a small taste, an inkling of it, when the war hits, of course. She burdens some of the harsh realities that Japanese citizens had to face in the wake of the war (rations, working, poverty), but what she had to endure in a mere 4-5 years, other Japanese have been struggling against their whole lives. It's almost shameful to say that Chiyo doesn't see how lucky she is to have a pretty face and extraordinary eyes, for they are what push her to become a famous geisha, not just her drive to become one.
Satsu, on the other hand, got the short end of the stick. Through first impressions, or perhaps solely by luck, she ends up in a whore house instead of an okiya, and this leads her to take drastic measures to escape such a hellhole. She could never afford such a life as her geisha sister unless she married into wealth (which I doubt she did). Her living conditions were probably sub-par to Chiyo's rich lifestyle. But what does this say about Satsu's happiness? Sure, she can't afford to wear thousands of dollars' worth of kimono, but does this put her emotional quality of life above Chiyo's? After escaping alone from Kyoto, we only have one other connection back to Satsu in the book, which is when Chiyo gets a letter from Mr. Ichiro who brings bad news of her parents' health. He mentions that Satsu ran off with the village boy, and that's that. It opens up a variety possibilities as to her whereabouts, and I can't definitively say that Chiyo led the happier life instead of her sister. She may have had the easier life, sure; but if Satsu really loved that boy and they got married, despite the troubles of everyday life and poverty, wouldn't she be the happier sister instead of Chiyo, who spends half her life chasing another man? This is what really depresses me, that the protagonist is forced to accept her geisha life, putting her happiness in the backseat for later. What's the point of all her wealth and parties if it's all for nothing? It may look like fun and games to put makeup on and entertain men all your life, but it's a wonder to me how Chiyo didn't end up like Hatsumomo, or even Mameha (who was forced into 3 abortions by her donna). Chiyo is considered extremely lucky even now, as she puts aside her happiness until the very end. This was what made the book such a struggle to read, because all I wanted was to see Chiyo happy, but now that she's happy in the end of the book I'm disappointed that her happiness wasn't discussed further in the book.
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