Pierre’s Wonderful-Wacky-Weird Blog of Blogs

Death Of An Idealist

Written on May 27, 2009 – 6:12 pm | by pbarno

The questions we’ve been working on in class in the past few days can be found on Clement’s Blog and Paola’s Blog. We were four people: Gloryo, Paola, Clement and me but sometimes we didn’t exactly see eye to eye so somehow there are two sets of answers. That’s that but my creative thing is just below. I called it Death Of An Idealist (seeing that the death thing seems to be in the air).

Death of an Idealist

I would wake up when it was bright,
Go to sleep when it was night,
Thought the world was always right
And that nothing would dare bite.

Through the days I wondered
And most of the time I pondered,
To where might I be going,
There isn’t much growing.

Yet, alas, grew I did
And more the world seemed to be a fib.
I though there was a reason to be,
That later I might be able to see.

But the time draws nearer
And I cannot see clearer.
The fog doesn’t seem to be setting,
So sure am I that I can be betting.

The horizon looks bleak,
Things don’t seem very neat.
What once appeared to ameliorate,
Now only looks as if to deteriorate.

How naïve I was to think that way,
Surely there were hints in the day.
Things now seem to suck,
Maybe I need some luck.

Also a necessity thought I was complexity,
Not necessarily for now it seems it’s simplicity.
My view was really quite absurd,
Now it can nearly be compared to that of a bird.

I wake up when it’s bright,
I go to sleep when it’s night.
Never was I right,
Surely the world I cannot fight.

 

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Ode To Bed

Written on May 15, 2009 – 5:13 pm | by pbarno

Seeing that I am still sick I’ve decided to continue my creative writing streak by focusing on said sickness. Hence here I’ve written an ode to something very precious in these times of despair.Ode To Bed

I open my eyes.
First thing to ring in the new day is you.
Your white pureness,
white simplicity,
white complexity.

I stare and wonder,
wonder why I must abandon this cradle of life,
this cradle of comfort,
a place I feel safe and at ease.

In times of illness you are there,
there to comfort me,
there to care for me.
A true companion!

And now, that illness has arrived,
you stay by my side,
you stay firm when everyone else flees,
you are immune to my sickness.

Then at the end of the long and arduous day,
it is you I see again.
Last thing to bring the day to a close;
before I drift into the land of nod is you.
I close my eyes.

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Light In Time

Written on May 13, 2009 – 3:53 pm | by pbarno

Afternoon all. I won’t say good because it isn’t good. I feel quite miserable and sick. In light of this I decided to write a poem about this sad fact. So here it is; I feel it epitomises what I feel quite well.

 

Light In Time

 

I sit here and wonder,

wonder why, why it is.

 

Time, slowly, ticks and beats away.

Every beat. Another thud.

 

I breathe in.

Every breath another sigh.

 

I look out the window, searching for something,

something that never appears.

 

All I see is grey,

grey and rain.

 

I feel within me, a condition, consuming me, slowly,

my head is weary,

my eyes search for reassurance,

my mouth is dry, no longer able to speak.

Speak!

What a wonderful word,

yet here I am,

unable to do such a simple thing,

slowly, I feel like a prisoner in my own realm.

 

Oh, the light, where might it be hiding?

Like the light at the end of a tunnel,

it is so far, consumed by a darkness that must be travelled,

yet, there is no guarantee, all might be in vain,

hiding it might be.

 

I pause.

My body demands of it.

 

I take refuge in my sanctuary, looking,

to hold out, against the dark,

waiting.

Waiting.

Safe shall I not be,

for time is the true puppeteer,

look, I say, there is no other way.

 

Like all before it,

I succumb to the same fate,

no avoiding it,

it cannot be shunned.

 

I stay the course,

I stay.

The course is the only way.

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Siege

Written on May 12, 2009 – 7:30 pm | by pbarno

So, this entry I’ve decided to post something I found today. I was looking though my notebook and came across an entry. We were forced to sit on the floor during our English class one day, told to re-enact the suffering and situation that Darwish went through during the siege of Lebanon. I wrote these lines in my desperation, as the tone of the text will indicate. So I leave you with this window into the madness.

At first I thought I could hold out; suffer through the loneliness but no.

I thought my radio could keep me company but no.

I resort to pen and paper, my only form of entertainment.

Prinzl looks over us like a sentinel guards prisoners, ready to shoot anybody.

Why can’t the floor be made of marshmallows?

First the cold grass in TOK, now the cold floor in English, from one prison to the next.

Time seems endless waiting for the bells of freedom. When shall they sing their beautiful song?

12:04, when we get out; when I get out. There is no we, we have been severed, we has become one.

11:50 – Time continues slowly.

Will save energy and go into a vegetative state.

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A Vast Hell

Written on May 11, 2009 – 9:06 pm | by pbarno

So, to start my English blogging off for this bimestre, I’ve decided to analyse a short fictional prose story that I found off of The New Yorker website. The title of the story is Vast Hell by Guillermo Martinez. I basically chose this work because of the title. That being because on the New Yorker website, they only give you a list of titles; so it’s basically a free for all. But none the less, this title caught my eye. Why? Because it sounded cool and interesting; what better reason to read something than by what it conveys, what my first impression is about it. Talking about first impressions, this relates to my paper 2 I recently finished. But continuing.

So, first of all I want to say that I really liked the story. I usually find the stories on the New Yorker a bit weird and not down my street but this one really tickled my fancy. So I’ll give you a brief summary of what happened, seeing that most of you won’t have time to actually read the story. Basically it’s a narration of how these two people go missing; or at least they think they are missing, they’re not too sure. So anyway, everyone thinks that this one guy killed these too people until one day they discover multiple bodies buried in the sand close to a beach. And then one of the missing persons re-appears; the person who everyone thought had killed them was actually telling the truth about one of the persons being away to care for a sick father. This is very brief and general and probably makes no sense (read the story you lazy bums) but it gives you an idea.

Continuing. The first thing I noticed about the text is the little subtitle which says “A small town is a vast hell – Argentinean Proverb”. This basically gave me the idea that the story was going to take place in Argentina, in a small town. Although, the Argentinean part is never explicitly stated, it is possible to infer this from the name of the small town, “Puente Viejo”, the character’s are Hispanic, such as “Cervino” and the fact that the story was translated from Spanish (as stated at the end of the story).

Also, the narrator of the text is just a witness, as in the first line it says “I think”, clearly showing that the narrator is a character. He isn’t one of the main characters and only describes what he sees.

At the beginning of the story, we are presented with a “young man whose name we never know”. It’s interesting to note the no name part as I will get back to this in a bit. In addition, the young part should be noticed too. This contrasts with how the author then describes who the “French Woman” (who the author says might not even be French, no one knows; that’s how this prose works basically, you know nothing but for that reason I like it), this being basically the main character, looked at as a boy. Then the narrator continues to say “the same way she looked at all men”. So we think this is a young man, perhaps a boy but to this woman he is a man (or something along those lines).

The text also presents quite a few foreshadowing moments. For example when the narrator says the boy might “never have met the French Woman” and he also says, “I had not reason to anticipate what happened”. This shows quite obviously that something horrible or negative is going to happen (which is does). Another example would be when the narrator says the “bloody business”. One other piece of foreshadowing which I feel is important is when the narrator mentions the “military in those days” when talking about forbidden porno magazines.

This leads me to my next point. I feel a great sense of machismo throughout the text. First, the narrator talks about quite manly things, like sports magazines, porno magazines and the French Woman to attract customers to the barber shops, making it sound like the only customers where men. Also he explicitly describes the French Woman when he says things like “even in winter you could see she wasn’t wearing a thing under her sweater”. Another thing he says is that “few man can stand being mocked or humiliated for very long by a woman”, this again showing the machismo mind set apparent in the town.

Then from this, I go to the name thing. I noticed a few things. First of all that there are almost no women mentioned in the text at all; that being because there are only two. Both of whom don’t have proper names. One is called the “French Woman” and the other “Espinosa’s Wife”. The young man/boy also doesn’t have a name but I’m not too sure where that fits in here, if it does at all. So this probably has to do with the macho idea I talked about in the previous paragraph.

The final thing I want to talk about is the ending of the story. Basically these towns people find, as the narrator says “a nightmare” where “bodies were sprouting from the earth”. And continues to describe when he says “a head would roll out or a mutilated torso would appear” and that it was when he saw “a back riddled with bullets” and a “blindfolded head” that he understood. He says “then I realized what it was”. This isn’t very helpful for us seeing that we never really understand what happened, you can only make an educated guess. Mine would be one that refers back to the military. I think that this text has to do probably with one of the wars or civil unrests or whatever else happened in Argentina where the military had to intervene and basically kill off a load of people. I think the text is making critique of the historical events which occurred in Argentina.

So that’s that. That’s what I feel the text is trying to say, although I could be completely wrong but I don’t think so. It’s getting late so I’m going to post this bad boy and fall away into the land of nod (aka go to sleep now).

http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2009/04/27/090427fi_fiction_martinez

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Ode To Aeroplane

Written on March 31, 2009 – 8:46 pm | by pbarno

You stay parked on the tarmac.

Awaiting your contents

delivered by a distant cousin

for you then to deliver yourself.

When full you get ready to take flight

the purpose of your being

the reason for your creation.

Your large wings that shimmer in the sun

that deflect the rain

the hail

the snow

the sleet

the wind

the rays.

Your metallic body

pressurized to protect its inhabitants.

This shell of life

so precious

yet so fragile like life itself.

You power your engines up

the roar surrounds everything around you

a show of power

a show of force.

 

Through the airs you soar

slicing the clouds in half

attaining inhuman speeds

for human needs.

From the ground

but a sparkle

a flash of light

can be seen.

Constantly moving

constantly shifting

the way you know best.

And in a second is gone again.

 

When your wings are tired

when you become thirsty

for the sweet juices

that humans fight over.

Landing.

On final approach

you expand your wings

you slow your massive body down.

Down.

Down.

Your roar is heard again

louder

louder

until a thud.

When your wheels touch ground.

Your flight is over.

Your job is done.

You taxi to the watering hole

with your brothers

where you drink up

ready for

the next journey.

 

By Pierre

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Title-less Entry (Since I’m not too sure what to give it)

Written on March 24, 2009 – 8:02 pm | by pbarno

Hello all you happy blog-reading people on the internets. I am here yet again to discuss as topic in the form of the much praised blog. For this entry, I’ve decided to analyse a prose text which I found on the New Yorker website. The title of the story is “Julia and Bryon” by Craig Raine which you can find here.

So the story is basically about this woman called Julia Duddington who has bone cancer. She goes through several treatments and is able to recover fully and live a normal life. This recovery is so extraordinary that the doctor who was looking over Julia, Mr. Aaronovitch (don’t know why the author doesn’t call him Dr. seeing that he is a doctor and the author does make the difference with Julia by calling her Dr. Duddington but hey, it’s not my story), asks her if she is willing to try some experimental cancer treatment. After being the test subject for this, she dies. At this point, the focus of the short story switches to the husband, Byron. And that’s the story in a nutshell.

So, as I was reading the story, I wrote down what I found important/interesting. This is basically how my structuring is going to go (it might not be the best but it works for me). When we are introduced to Julia, the author says she had “bar-coded” hair and a “solid helmet of bright pewter”. This gives a positive view of Julia to the reader. The author could have just said she had grey hair; instead he uses these words to describe her in such a way. I also noticed that throughout the story there are some sentences and phrase that are only a few words long, such as when she says “I mean, before all this. When I was well. So I’d say that I may be less ill than I look. On paper. So to speak.” This is used most of the time to create emphasis on what is being said, for example when the narrator says “The student doctor was telling her that she had cancer. Of the bone marrow.” The separation here is important as it elongates a bad fact; the fact that Julia has bone cancer.

Something else I found interesting was when Julia had “looked on the Web” and had “a shrewd and accurate idea of her chances”. Here we see that the story is a modern time frame. This is at the current age when people go and google whatever they are looking for; in this case, someone’s own bone cancer. Also, further on in the story, the author mentions Mr. Aaronovitch’s Mont Blanc Rollerball twice. I believe the author does this for two reasons. First, it shows that the doctor is fairly rich or well off, a man who is full of his own importance (as can also be seen with his relaxed, calmed attitude when dealing with Julia). The second reason is because it is with this pen that ultimately, Julia signs her death sentence; she signs the contract to have the experimental treatment done on her. This treatment in itself I found to be quite TOK-ish too. Here we have a woman who is giving herself up, knowing that she is going to be a human guinea pig yet who chooses to do so. Maybe it has to do with her profession as a zoologist and her desire to further the progress of science.

Also wanted to quickly mention something else in the story, the mention of the medication Mandragorax* and how the people who came up with this name knew Shakespeare well. Shakespeare refers to this plant four times in his works. This situation is a foreshadowing of Julia’s death because for example, in King Henry IV it is said “Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake’s groan”. I thought the reference was nice and wanted to mention it.

One of the biggest and most important things in the story is the radical change about half way through. After Julia takes the Mandragorax a very short amount of time takes place and she dies. It is near the time of the death that we are presented to her husband (I feel this is done to compare this bad time (the death) with the husband, for that is what he ultimately stands for). This is one change. Another change is the use of strong, explicit language which was not present at the beginning.

One thing I picked up on was the word “arse” as in the English way of saying “ass”, this could perhaps lead us to think the husband is English or something like that (a more indirect linkage would the Land Rover). I also thought the last sentences of the story were funny. It says, “For two years he was a grief Automat, crying unstoppably at the mention of her name. Then he remarried—a younger woman—and was a difficult husband.” Here is shows that even though he cried and started to realise that he was a horrible husband, he remarries and makes the same mistakes.

So that’s it. I now need to go and complete some of my many other things. I’ll make it quick then and part with a simple – Good-bye.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandrake_(plant)

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The Doctor’s Wife Post Look (and my anger against the Fuerza Y Luz people)

Written on March 17, 2009 – 8:33 pm | by pbarno

Hello all. It is in a fairly bleak and sombre (yet maybe romantic?) atmosphere that I am writing my English blog. You see only a few minutes after I got home from school today (I say today because that is the day I am writing my blog on Word on my laptop although I doubt that it shall indeed be posted today) an my lights went out and an explosion was heard (the sign that the transformer at the entrance of my residential blew up (which is quite frequent because the “Fuerza Y Luz” people are too cheap to install a bigger, more potent one that is required)). So I’m writing these words in the light of a few candles (what a wonderful invention) and the eerie glow from my laptop screen (another invention I am happy to have; that and batteries). So anyway, it’s either go to sleep now (6pm) or write a journal entry (which also helps me channel my anger); I chose the latter.

So, on to something a bit more joyful (and something to help me forget about my awful situation). We have been reading (when I say reading I mean finished) a novel by Sawako Ariyoshi called “The Doctor’s Wife”. The book is basically about the relationship between a doctor’s wife and her mother-in-law. The book takes place in Japan (I kind of know what they felt like, living without electricity especially at night) which continues in your classes theme of international books. First of all I’d like to say I like the book. Why you may ask (although I doubt you would but I’ll answer anyway)? Because a) it’s easy to read and understand, b) doesn’t take long to read and c) the overall topic is nice and interesting. (Score!!! The lights came back, it’s now 7:30 so it only took two and a half hours to fix, yay!). Anyway back to the book. This second semester of English class I have been really quite happy with what we have been reading; they have all been fairly interesting and straight forward (unlike some books like The New York Trilogy and To The Lighthouse).

Continuing. One of the parts of the book I found to be a bit confusing and troublesome is the whole root of the cause of the conflict between Otsugi and Kae. At first we have this view of the ideal mother-in-law, Otsugi. She is very nice and helpful towards Kae and the two seem to get along very well for the three or so years that Umpei is not at home. We also have to remember that it was Otsugi who chose Kae to be Umpei’s wife and was very insistent about that with Kae’s parents. So what I don’t understand is why the second Umpei turned up at the house after his long medical study in Kyoto, Otsugi sort of rejected Kae and was downright horrible with her. Even Kae couldn’t understand it at first. Why didn’t Otsugi choose someone else to be Umpei’s husband instead of someone she clearly did not like (although this was not apparently the case at first)? Or maybe it is just the fact that Otsugi was perhaps jealous that Umpei had a wife. In the book it mentions several places where Kae thought that Otsugi’s relationship with her son was incestuous.

But this brings up another blurry point for me, Umpei. Was he really so blind that he couldn’t see past the phoney seemingly positive relationship between his mother and wife? Maybe he chose to ignore it because like that he received great attention from both of them. Or perhaps he really was so involved in his work that he couldn’t see it (until the end of the novel when he does finally start to realise what is going on). It’s also funny that even his sister Koriku saw past the outside relationship between Kae and Otsugi.

I personally also found something quite bizarre and strange; the amount of deaths in the Hanaoka family. It seems that everyone dies there. We have Okatsu who dies of breast cancer, Kae’s first daughter, Koben, who dies of a cold and Okatsu who dies from a hematoma. This are all really quite tragic deaths that all happened to this one family. (They are also all women if that has anything to do with it). There seems to be a lot of death surrounding this family as well a wife who goes completely blind. These aren’t the sort of normal, run-of-the-mill kind of diseases either. I think it is more than a coincidence but anyway.

Finally I’d like to point the ending of the book out. That was something I didn’t like too much. The mother-in-law sort of just died as if she had not been an important character (even though she was probably one of the most important) as well as the fact that the book doesn’t really have a narrative/story ending; it has instead a factual ending. This means that the book says what happens to the family afterwards, in the future; a bit like a happily-ever-after ending with a bit more insight. It felt kind of like an encyclopaedic definition which I’m not sure is the best ending for the book.

So, since my beautiful electricity has come back to me I’ll just post this blog and get onto the billions (yes, billions) of other things I have to do which involve me, my computer and the internet. And on that bomb-shell I say good bye.

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The Assault, First (Well, Kind Of) Impression

Written on March 10, 2009 – 8:24 pm | by pbarno

So today is my first English Blog since the end of last semester. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t been active on the blog scene. No, not at all; I have in fact been blogging a fair amount of time on my TOK blog, http://walkingonthemoon.edublogs.org/, (product placement intended). But anyway, my blog for today is about the book that out English class has just finished (well, not exactly “just” but close enough seeing that we are already on our next book), The Assault by Harry Mulisch.

I have been intending to write this blog for quite a while now yet due a lack of time and energy I have failed to do so. I wanted to talk about my first impressions of the book but that won’t be completely possible now that we have actually finished the book. So to clarify my title; it is in fact a pre/post impression of the book.

Well, this book is part of our World Literature section of our class (or at least I think it is, can’t exactly remember what was said about that but none the less). The book is written by a Dutch Author, Harry Mulisch, who incorporates factual events in a fictional book to give it credibility. The book focuses about a young boy who sees his whole family killed by the Nazi’s after a murder that takes place in front of his house; thus the name “the assault”. From there the book goes through his life.

I personally liked the book a lot. It was really quite different from the previous books we had read. For example Blindness by Jose Saramago which talks about animal instincts presented in a very explicit manner, To The Lighthouse by Virignia Woolf which has no plot and only discusses the characters think, Age of Iron by J. M. Coetzee which discusses life in a separated South Africa or The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster where you have basically no idea what is going on, all are completely different from this Dutch book. I like the fact that it is really straight forward yet if you look close enough you can see some subtle details that make you think and wonder (really quite TOK-ish indeed).

The plot in the book was also quite interesting to me. Here we see a boy who has lost basically everything, his family, his house, everything but he doesn’t really seem to care too much about it, he is more fascinated for example with his first ride in a car or on a motorbike. He never really deals with the accomplished facts and sort of refuses to accept reality. We see this throughout the whole book where at many occasions he bluntly and clearly says he doesn’t want to think about that life, it is not longer part of him; his new life with his wife and children are independent from his childhood. This is true up until the last encounter with Karen where he does actually show a slight interest in what happened that faithful night (because that night is indeed shrouded in mystery for him yet he never makes the effort to find out what happened, he’d rather just forget about it). He asks Karen why she took the actions that she took and he gets the answer although when he gets it, he just says “Good-bye” and leaves.

What we are able to see here is that a book that should focus on the importance of the past, down plays its role and instead talks about the present. I find this in itself an interesting aspect and it slightly reminds me of The New York Trilogy in the way that the author tries to take the focus away from what the common idea might be and place the interest on something else.

All in all I enjoyed the book thoroughly and liked how the author incorporated a good plot with an interesting style (I think of this after having to do my paper 2 essay). I also liked the fact that the book was not the traditional big American thriller, I make an analogy between this and an independent movie, not the big Hollywood blockbuster. Anyway, I’m starting to not be able to understand what I’m writing so I think that that is a clear indication that it is time to stop blogging and start to sleep. So in light of this I wish you all a good night.

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Journal #3 Ghosts In A City Of Glass

Written on November 23, 2008 – 11:20 pm | by pbarno

            For this journal entry I decided to compare the first two books in The New York Trilogy; City Of Glass and Ghosts. After spending a weekend of reading these two stories, I found it appropriate to discuss them in a journal entry.

            So, let’s start. During and after reading Ghosts I noticed it had very close similarities with City Of Glass. I started to jot down all the important aspects of it and came up with a list that matched that of City Of Glass.

            My first point is the fact that both stories focus around a detective. In City Of Glass, Quinn does not start out to be a detective, rather he becomes a detective whilst on the other hand Blue was always a detective. At the beginning of Ghosts, Blue is following Black across the Brookline Bridge and thinks he is going to jump off. This reminds me of when Peter Stillman Sr. throws himself of the bridge. I think it is more than just a coincidence that Auster uses the same bridge twice when he talks about suicide.

            I also noticed that in the two stories, the two main characters both become bums. They become bums because of their work. Quinn does it to keep an eye on Stillman whilst Blue does it to talk to Black. Also this fact of approaching the subject that the main characters are observing is seen in the two stories. We can see how Quinn, every time he goes and talks to Stillman Sr. he changes his identity much like how Blue changes his identity to be able to talk to Black.

            Something else I noticed was the reference to children stories. In City Of Glass Stillman talk about the discussion between Alice and Humpty Dumpty whilst in Ghosts, Blue and Black talk about the scare crow in the Land of Oz. The connection might not be very strong but I believe that there is something that makes Auster uses these children stories as examples.

            The two stories are also similar in the fact that both Quinn and Blue lose their loved ones. Quinn because his wife dies and Blue because his ex-future wife thinks he is dead. The idea that work takes over their lives is also very important in the two stories. We can see how Quinn gives up everything for his work and when that falls through he just disappears. The same goes for Ghosts, Blue gives up his life to follow Black and then at the end Blue just leaves for an unknown location.

            One of the things I found interesting in Ghosts was how all the actual characters in the book had the names of colours. All the “real life” people kept their own names for example when Auster talks about Walt Whitman and so forth. I also found it quite amusing when Auster starts talking about the idea of the book within the book. As we can see on page 160 Auster talks about how Blue reads Thoreau. This is where the reader identifies with the thoughts of Blue when he says that “whole chapters go by, and when he comes to the end of them realizes that he has not retained a thing.” This parallel between fiction and reality is also expressed again on page 167 when Blue talk about how boring it is to read a book that has no story, no plot no action; he says that Black’s book only talk about a man who sits at his desk writing. This is exactly what the reader of Ghosts faces as well. It seems that Auster is mocking himself.

            Throughout City Of Glass and Ghosts there are quite a few similarities which are indicative of Auster’s wrting style. The two stories are similar yet differ in such ways that you don’t think it is the same story again.

            Well that’s it for this journal entry. 

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