Freud

Yet another Core book that boggles my mind.

I'm not quite sure what's going on. He keeps going off in tangents that don't really seem to have any connection to the "oceanic" feeling to which he's referring.

I do have one point of contention with Mr. Freud - "I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." Granted, I usually called for my dad when I had nightmares when I was younger because I probably didn't think my mom was up for battle against pirates and other equally frightening beings. However, I would say that moms do a pretty good job of protecting. And there are multitudes of "childhood needs" that can only be granted by mothers.

Vercueil?

I'm not really sure what the deal is at the end of the book. When she says "Is it time?" and then he responds - "He took me in is arms and held me with mighty force, so that the breath went out of me in a rush. From that embrace there was no warmth to be had."

Did he help her to die? Is that why she asked if it was time? There was another part that was a little disturbing - ""If you want me to help you I'll help you,"he said. He leaned over and took me by the throat, his thumbs resting lightly on my larynx, the three bad fingers bunched under my ear. "Don't," I whispered...my eyes swam with tears."

What's that all about?

This book disturbs me. I don't know what to think of it.

Depressing

This is one of the most depressing books I've ever read. There is hardly a sliver of hope or anything of encouragement. And if there is even that, it is obscured by the consuming sense of misery and death.

The author forces you to love each character. Even against your will, you start to love them. And then the author takes them all away. In the most devastatingly horrible of ways. The death of John was awful. A child. Knowingly submitting to his own murder. He knew. "He was lost, I had no power to save him." (152)

This book is meant to make the reader uncomfortable. Alienated. I am lucky because I cannot fathom something like this happening. But someone, more than just one someone too, has experienced this. So many people and children experienced this. And I am left with a sense of helplessness and isolation.

It didn't get happier.

At all.

PS

This book is kind of a downer. And by kind of, I really mean completely, thoroughly, a total Debbie-Downer.

Maybe it gets happier...

I hope so.

Age of Iron

"Hunger, I thought: it is a hunger of the eyes that I feel, such hunger that I am loath even to blink. These seas, these mountains: I want to burn them upon my sight so deeply that, no matter where I go, they will always be before me."

I have this same feeling a lot. I love going on trips. I can't seem to stop looking out the window. In a car, train, plane, anything, you will probably find me looking out a window. There's so much, almost too much, to see. I want to capture everything that I see - I tend to take a lot of photos. Especially weird ones. Ones that have nothing to do with the trip - the subject is usually just something I want to remember. Photographs allow you to remember more clearly, but the experience is the addicitive part. Especially nature. I just can't stop looking at everything around me. I agree with this woman. She has a good way of explaining it.

Breaks....

I always have so many plans to get ahead in my work and really get a lot done over breaks...and it never happens. Ever. I plan and write lists (which my dad teases me about - saying that I'm confusing action and accomplishment) and I have motivation and goals and everything ready. I slug all of my notebooks and texts in my suitcases - ready to get something done. And then...I get on the plane or train or in the car...and it all goes to hell.

I don't do half of what I've planned, probably even less, and end up sleeping and hanging out with my parents or friends, going to the movies, reading other books not remotely related to Core or any other classes.

And now I am back where I always am - behind in my work and stressing out about midterms and papers that are happening in the way too immediate future.

Good times.

Higher Education

Higher education is a privilege, not necessarily an opportunity for everyone. I am very lucky to have the opportunity to pursue my education further, but a majority of the students at my high school did not have the opportunity to finish high school, much less think about college. I wish that were not the case. I disagree with Du Bois - I don't really believe that there is a talented tenth that deserves higher education. I think that the opportunity to further one's education to one's satisfaction should be granted to all people, regardless of whether or not they fit into the "talented tenth".

Higher education and education in general have a lot of different meanings - it could mean trade school, it could mean training for a job, it could mean completing high school, it could mean completing a master's degree, it could mean taking a community college class, it could mean anything. I think that any of these opportunities can further one's "education". A lot of the learning that we undergo is not learned in a math textbook or a classic work. Granted, this kind of education is vital and important and provides extra insight into the world around us. However, if I've learned anything from Core - it would be the mysterious ways of identity and how it is shaped by experiences and those around us. Perhaps these are the most important factors in developing our minds and feelings.

How does it feel to be a problem?

How horrible must it have been for Du Bois to recognize that he was a problem to society as a whole? His description of his reaction to the girl refusing his calling card? Why was he not impassioned and angry? Perhaps it was just that he had discovered a norm and accepted it. The ways he remembers the reactions of "the other black boys" are interesting - "their youth shrunk into tasteless sycophancy, or into silent hatred of the pale world about them and mocking distrust of everything white; or wasted in a bitter cry, Why did God make me an outcast and a stranger in mine own house?" (4) That whole passage is very moving -"the sons of night who must plod darkly on in resignation, or beat unavailing palms against the stone, or steadily, half hopelessly, watch the streak of blue above." The passage is very bleak and depressing. The reactions of the people and their options are so hopeless.

This first chapter has really caught my interest. It has left me wondering what is to come from Du Bois....