My Paper

My paper started with a passion for language. I recognized there was something very pleasing to me about certain combinations of words, certain sounds, certain imagery, and I desired to write a paper on the ability of language to bring us to awe.  My inspiration came from Ezra Pound's "In a Station of the Metro" which was the first piece of literature I ever read and came away with an overwhelming sense of awe -- at the images evoked, at the minimalism, at the fact that every word in the poem was acutely selected.  However, this felt extremely broad, and so I decided to shift toward another interest of mine that I felt could still allow me to incorporate my love for language.  I chose to focus on storytelling, and I planned a paper that would allow me to examine the influence and endurance of story throughout time, what elements have changed, what elements have stayed the same, and where awe has fit in with story in marking stories important and influential. I began to write about stories and their transcendent nature/influence when I came across a letter from my late father written to his brother.  The letter served for me as my first exposure to his "voice" and in sensing a significant connection with him which caused me to think about how literature is transcendent in the sense that it can bridge the gap between living and dead generations.  It also contained a book list of highly recommended books by him, and therefore served as a way of his parenting from the grave.  The letter meant so much to me that again, I started over, this time hoping to create a paper that would identify the inherent awe and transcendence of literature by using examples from my classmates' personal literary narratives. Ultimately , I wanted to show people how literature facilities the dead speaking to present generations, present generations speaking to dead ones, and present generations preparing to speak to the unborn.  My paper did do a lot of this, but I'm extremely bummed out that I did not have the time necessary to fully investigate the majority of sources I had originally obtained.  I am submitting it to Life Story Journal's reflections section.

Google Doc

Creative Project

Memoirs + Social Proof

I got in touch with Lisa Roylance and she sent me a copy of the paper she presented at the recent BYU English Symposium titled "The Importance of Memory Holes in Memoir." Not only will the paper itself be a great resource, but Lisa will also be great to bounce ideas off of and take advice from. Her paper is very interesting, and her list of references has a lot of sources that I think I may end up using in my final paper. I'm really excited to have found someone else researching along similar veins!

Here's a quote from the end of her paper:

"Memoir reminds me of the inevitable imperfections that I have. It brings me to more questions than answers sometimes, more spaces to look at and patches to sew. I’m the only one that can do it, though. I am the doctor looking at my past and living in my present, and both are full of mistakes. I am the patient wanting to learn and find healing from the cuts and scrapes of my past. That, I believe, is the true power of honest memoir – allowing the reader to find their own past filled with holes and “I don’t know’s” to peer at the light caught in a drop just as it dangles from the web" (Royalnce 15).

Updated Audiences for Memoir

Social Proof

At the BYU English Symposium, there was a panel title "Memoir: Unlocking Identity and Memory through Narrative Style." Although I was unfortunately unable to attend the panel, I plan on contacting some of the presenters to read copies of their papers. I have a class with Lisa Roylance, the girl who presented the paper "The Importance of Memory Holes in Memoir," so I'm planning on asking her tomorrow about it. Judging by the titles of the papers, I think these will be really helpful to collaborate with as I continue structuring my paper.

Paper Venue

As far as publishing my paper goes, I'm thinking I'll just go with the 1966 Journal. I'll probably submit to a few other journals, too. But right now I'm think that I won't go the blog publishing route. I think my paper is getting too long/academic to be well-suited to that type of format. Even though blogs are a sort of memoir and it might be interesting for bloggers to read about why exactly they find blogging to be so fascinating, I think the very nature of blogs (simplicity and brevity) would cause them to reject anything near an academic paper.

Storytelling

Super rough draft...
PDF

Considering the Reader-Response When Using Language

What is Reader-Response Theory?
Reader-Response Theory refers to the engagement that occurs between reader and text.  It focuses on the readers' reaction to literature, and considers these reactions vital to the interpretation of text.  It is also one of the most dramatic changes that literary theory as incurred.

Quick history
Regarding where the focus lied when interpreting literature, the 1920s saw very Romantic preoccupations with "the author," meaning the author's personal experiences, convictions, intentions, and so on.  This approach shifted around the 1940s to New Criticism's exclusive emphasis on "the text, deriving meaning solely from symbols, rhythm, repetition, literary devices, etc. -- a very objective approach.  It was in the 1960s that people started lending particular attention to the reader's response to literature (and the idea just kept gaining more and more prominence in the 70s).

Got it -- so the whole theory is that readers engage with a text, readers respond to the text, and these responses cultivate overall interpretations of that text.  Right?

The How To of The Digital World

I think it's amazing how many "how to's" there are online.
"How to make chocolate covered strawberries"
"How to get songs from your friend's ipod onto your computer"
"How to tie a bowtie"
"How to cook quinoa"
"How to use a semicolon"
For this post, I decided to go through my last month's computer history and see what "how to's" I googled.  I was mildly shocked and thoroughly entertained while at the same time very impressed with what information and answers I was instantaneously able to get hold of.

1. How to do the sweater dance.  My roommate was having a bad night and I wanted to cheer her up by surprising her with the sweater dance.

Pounding In My Head: A Literary Narrative

"station... faces"              "black"        "wet, black"                     "crowd...bough"

          "the apparition"                           "wet, black bough"

     "metro... petals"            "petals...wet"                                "faces... these faces"

                                             "bough. Pound"

These words are the most fulfilling words I know.  Each character counts -- from the very pieces of the title to the sounding boom of his last name.  Each element is used to its total capacity.  Every last bit of wordy juice has been squeezed into this picture til not a drop of meaning remains unused. The whole is so, so complete.

Young and So Wise

I read a play by Wordsworth.

———A simple Child,

That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

It's name is We Are Seven.

I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

I read it again.

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

—Her beauty made me glad.

Once more after that.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said,

And wondering looked at me.

I sat and I stared and I thought.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

"This is extraordinary, and

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”

this is special."

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

A quiet moment for the deceased.

Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”

Thoughts of my father's passing.

“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

Irritation at first toward the

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.

ignorant who deny a soul its reality.

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

But then understanding and 

“And often after sun-set, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

compassion.

“The first that dies was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

Gratitude for the clarity of

“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

this little Maid. A total of seven

“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”

thank you's offered for her steadfastness-- 

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”

--six from her siblings,

“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

’Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

and one from me.

    I realized why this poem affected me so deeply; I relate entirely to this little girl.  I lost my father when I was ten months old, but because of my religious faith, the influence of my family, and a strong personal sense of how universal everything is, I have always maintained a firm defense of the ongoing existence of my deceased parent.  I wondered after reading this if part of the reason, too, that I do have and always have had such strong convictions about life after death has to do with the death occurring when I was so young.  I wonder if these convictions would have been the same had the death that shaped my view on death been experienced in young adulthood.  A friend of mine who I shared this poem with said it resonated very much with her, she coming from a family of seven herself.  Paul Bills also mentioned that he got to read this poem in the site of its original creation, and that it was actually two sisters on the same trip as him that read the poem out loud while in his presence -- they had lost another sister.  He explained what a special experience that was for him.

10 Pieces of Literature that Brought Me to Awe

1. Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World: A true story about Ernest Shackleton who sailed to Antarctica with 27 other men hoping to be the first explorers to cross from one side to the other.  It's a treacherous tale, but what is most amazing is the spirit of the captain who miraculously was able to get every single man back home.

2. Hitler Youth: The way in which propaganda was able to affect such young people to do such evil deeds.

3. The Diary of Anne Frank: Anne's maturity in describing the horrifying events surrounding her

4. In a Station of the Metro by Ezra Pound: Two lines. Incredible imagery.  Every word counts.

5. We Are Seven by William Wordsworth: A little girl is steadfast in her refusal to dismiss the deceased from her life.

6. The Hunger Games: The ability to create this post-apocalyptic world and make the reader feel like a piece from history.

7. The Great Gatsby: Not a fan of the story itself.  The language always captivates me though.

8. The Giver: I love the conflict it presents about whether to stay in a Utopian society or experience a world of knowledge, color, change, and danger.

9. The entire Harry Potter series:  J.K. Rowling's ability to create a totally new world, with so many details, and tie them all together is astounding.

10. Men of England by Percy Shelley: One of my favorite poems.  Gorgeous language.  The author is speaking in a revolutionary tone to the suppressed people of England, and while so many writers attempted this, I feel like Men of England does so the most beautifully.

Moments in a Museum

I have no idea how the Museum of Art got hold of all the paintings in its current exhibition: Sacred Gifts. Everyone who has the opportunity absolutely must attend, it only takes a few minutes.  I went on a break during class because I felt like I needed some uplifting and had heard something about a current exhibit going on.  My experience left me stunned.

At the entrance of the exhibit, there is a scripture referring to talents being gifts from God.  I kept this in mind as I walked around, and wondered loosely to myself while trying to take in the full impact of each piece: what does it feel like to have this talent?  And where is the mind when undertaking a painting of the mocking of Christ, or of Christ suffering in Gethsemane?  How does an artist know when he or she has sufficiently captured the emotions of the Savior at the various points surrounding the atonement? And how amazing is it that a mere combination of brushes, paints, and strokes on a canvas can create something so powerful?  My favorite painting from the whole exhibit is this one below:

It displays children of God from all different walks of life.  The one that nearly brought me to tears was the man on the right which the chains around his wrists.  According to the text accompanying the painting, he is a prisoner wondering if his sacrifice of a broken heart will be enough for Christ to accept him.  I was so moved by the simplicity and tenderness of this onlooking man, who truly has nothing else to give.  I wish I could put into perfect words why this moment touched me with more intensity than any other throughout the exhibit, but suppose that that lack of ability to describe it is all the more indicative of having been awed.  I wonder about the other individuals who have gone through the exhibit, and what characters or images brought them to a state of awe.  Has anybody else been to the exhibit?  If so, did anything particularly move you?