Tuesday, April 28, 2009

I think the argument that Robert Fludd based his memory theater on the Globe Theatre is an interesting one, and I do prescribe to Yates' reasoning that to understand that argument one must first be familiar with the art of memory (thus explaining why she included it in the book at the end). It kind of seems like such an offshoot of what she was talking about earlier that it made the end of the book less enjoyable for me. I was waiting for Bruno's death, as if Yates were writing a novel and all the mentions of Bruno's "ill fated journey to Italy" and others were foreshadowing the inevitable death....BURNED AT THE STAKE! How does that not incite some unsettling yet exciting emotions!

So just for me and for everyone else who was too lazy to google Bruno. I am going to do it now and include the link here, although no one will probably see it. For fun, I'm going to put "burned at the stake" and some other colorful descriptions as key words...maybe someone will come across this on a search and get a treat....

ENJOY!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giordano_bruno

Friday, April 24, 2009

my paper: Lists in the Literate and Oral Traditions

William Meznarich
ENG 337
Dr. Sexson
April 24, 2009

Lists in Literature:
The Oral Tradition versus the Literate One

After listening to twenty-plus presentations of people memorizing fifty seemingly trivial items, I wondered as I am sure many of my classmates wondered, “What is the point?” And Dr. Sexson had an answer prepared for us, if we could memorize these fifty somewhat meaningless things with such ease then imagine if we took this new art of memory and used it on our undergraduate studies. But with that statement, these lists went back to being pretty much pointless, with the only purpose of them being to serve the point of how easy memorization could be. It was not until a later day in class, where Sexson seemed to start another argument explaining that these lists we were reciting were magical and poetic (this will be explained in further detail later). This revelation confused me and started my mind thinking. I had first been of the camp that regarded lists in literature as Raymond Adolph Prier describes as “a series…[which may only] include three, four, or at the most five members before the mind traces off horizontally in an inevitable ’etc’” (Prier 43). In my paper, I wish to compare the importance of lists in both the literate tradition and the oral tradition; whereas the literate sees the list as copious and meaningless and the oral (or illiterate) sees the list as important, and even magical and poetic.
Once again, before the recitations Dr. Sexson urged us to pick a list of items which had some sort of meaning for us and not necessarily fifty random items. He explained that he wanted this exercise to be of use to us and not just tedious homework. It was only later that he explained the magical and poetic potential that these list contained, and to showcase that potential, he read a passage from Vladimir Nabokov’s novel Lolita, where Humbert Humbert is musing over Dolores Haze’s class roll list, and remarks on its beauty:
A poem, a poem, forsooth! So strange and sweet was it to discover this “Haze, Dolores” (she!) in its special bower of names…I am trying to analyze the spine-thrill of delight it gives me, this name among all those others…my Lolita” (Nabokov 52-53).

He then pointed us towards two sections in Ong where he discusses the poetic significances of lists as well as the magic of words. To Ong lists must be understood as having importance in an operational context such as in the catalogue of ships in Homer’s Illiad and in a narrative context such as the genealogy lists in the Torah, where fathers and sons are not merely listed, but are actively being beget and begot by one another (Ong 97-98). In the oral tradition, lists are not redundant or aggregative descriptions, but instead are essential to the narrative.
The magical qualities of words are also associated with these lists. Ong notes that “writing is often regarded at first as an instrument of secret and magic power…[where] scraps of writing are used as magical amulets” (Ong 92). He goes on to talk about the cargo cults of South Pacific islands where:
Illiterates or semi-literates think that the commercial papers -- orders, bills of lading, receipts, and the like -- that they know figure in shipping operations are magical instruments to make ships and cargo come in from across the sea, and they elaborate various rituals manipulating written texts in the hope that cargo will turn for their own possession and use (Ong 92).

These magical words in lists can be seen in canonized literature too, such as the spell the three witches from Shakespeare’s Macbeth conjure at the beginning of the play.
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
2 WITCH. Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
3 WITCH. Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches' mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg'd i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingrediants of our caldron.
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble (1.1.8-35).

The list’s contents, instructions, and order give it notable magical qualities, which causes interest in the listener and not boredom. There is something trancelike in its meticulous description, as if the spell was really working to conjure up malevolent spirits in its listeners. This magical element, or mysticism, of meditation on letters is addressed several times in Ong, most notably in his description of the Judeo mysticism cult known as Cabbalists. Cabbalist believed that
the sacred Hebrew alphabet is, mystically speaking, supposed to contain all the Names of God. A form of Cabalist meditation particularly developed in Spain at this time consisted in meditating on the letters of the Hebrew alphabet, combining them and recombining them to form the Names of God (Yates 177).

Thus, it is understood that it is possible to meditate or worship by using a list and repeating its contents over and over. It means that there is a possibility of a magical element to any list, Shakespeare obviously knew this and so did Sexson as he had Christine of the Laughing Rats perform her list of Rabis in the dark, in order to help us be mystified simply by the sound.
In the literate tradition there is a different quality that explains what writings are works and what writings are purely incidental. Michel Foucault, an important figurehead in the post-structuralist movement in France with Roland Barthes among others, ventured to try and explain what is and what is not a work.
Even when an individual has been accepted as an author, we must still ask whether everything that he wrote, said, or left behind is part of his work. The problem is both theoretical and technical. When undertaking the publication of Nietzsche's works, for example, where should one stop? Surely everything must be published, but what is "everything"? Everything that Nietzsche himself published, certainly. And what about the rough drafts for his works? Obviously. The plans for his aphorisms? Yes. The deleted passages and the notes at the bottom of the page? Yes. What if, within a workbook filled with aphorisms, one finds a reference, the notation of a meeting or of an address, or a laundry list: is it a work, or not? Why not? And so on, ad infinitum (Foucault).

His point that he is trying to make is not for the legitimacy of the “laundry list” among other incidental writings as works; instead, he believes the question of what is and what is not a work is inherent in the literary quality and importance of that work and not necessarily simply because it was written by a noteworthy intellectual. The list then becomes subjugated to the role of incidental or happenstance writing, simply saying it is not a work because it obviously was not intended by the author to be one. The list or catalogue in future novels becomes only a throwback to the classic style, and all the power that it seemingly once contained is lost in the literate culture.
The literate tradition approach differed greatly from what the oral tradition expected. The oral tradition believed in framed narratives, as explained by Ong as boxes within boxes. With this sort of narrative style the list was incorporated to help the poet remember the narrative, but the list was not static, but extremely fluid, changing in order from performance to performance. As Ong notes, there was no chronological order to these lists and no way to even conceive of one; if a poet were to forget a piece of the narrative, he would just have to add it later on. And even if a poet then got that piece in the right chronological order the next time, he would inevitable “leave out other episodes or get them in the wrong chronological order” (Ong 140-141). This is very different from the literate tradition, which relies on Freytag’s Pyramid, where there is a body rising towards a climax and then a conclusion. Lists or catalogues of items or things in this structure are easily viewed as meaningless because they do not add to the climax or story and are in fact keeping the reader away from the “real” narrative.
However, I believe there is an importance to this lists even in a literate, print culture that we live in today. The lists can mesmerize the reader, taking him back to that oral culture of sound over sight, that according to Ong we once preferred. These lists can even be considered poetic for that effect as something unrepentantly beautiful and once again entrancing. It is unfortunate, however, that an author or poet cannot guarantee these effects in his or her readers because it cannot be guaranteed that the reader will not just say etc. and skip to the end of this list and say that it is meaningless. Words can never be meaningless, or else they would not be words, and lists are only meaningless and redundant when we let them be. Ong explains biblical genealogies in a way I think is appropriate for all oral works:
[these passages] are not felt as thing-like, but as reconstitutions of time, impossible to ‘examine’ because they are not presented visually but rather are utterances which are heard. In a primary oral culture or a culture with heavy oral residue even genealogies are not ‘lists’ of data but rather ‘memory of songs sung’ (Ong 98).

These are not redundant lists of words, or longwinded genealogies, but instead these are epic musical and theatrical performances. This argument is strengthened when one realizes that often the witches list from Macbeth (noted above) is often sung and not merely spoken. These lists do have the potential to be magical and to be poetic, but the best outcome is the combination of the two, that is for the list to become musical! To be both entrancing, melodic, and beautiful. If we were in the real oral culture, we would be able to understand that all words, all lists, all sounds are musical.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Update on the paper/presentation

i ended up sleeping through class today...that always sucks...but i was able to get to the library in the meantime and attempt to do some research for this project. My paper is on the use of lists/catalogues in literary and how the reader has interpreted their usage.

I haven't found any great books in the library as of yet, some okay ones anyways, but I got some really interested articles coming in on ILL (Inter-Library Loan). It is pretty difficult I found to do any kind of search using the terms "list" or "catalogue"...I mean around 4080 articles too difficult.

Interestingly enough I have found two articles discussing James Joyce's throwback to the catalogue style, that's always an easy way to make Sexson happy referencing the mind behind Finnegans Wake....

After I finished Yates I was interested in his comments about Robert Fludd and the attempts of scholars to reconstruct the Globe Theatre.

There is here a conversation between a unconvinced (Im guessing Shakespearean) scholar who thinks the Fludd/Globe Theatre argument is weak and dubious; and Frances Yates herself.
Anyways, just in case anyone is interested.

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/12390

Monday, March 30, 2009

Dante's Inferno...some of my Memory Theater

So I had some difficulties trying to put up my entire memory theater so instead I will put up my last four (the worst sinners according to Dante) and their picture


This is Judas. Known for his betrayal of Jesus. This has a bit of humor in it...as my girlfriend is a member of the Alpha Omicron Pi sorority...I thought it would be funny to have it be Judas. She is not amused by this allusion.




This is Brutus. It is really a mural in dedication to our house mascot, a black lab. Brutus is the Roman senator who betrays Caesar (what Dante thought of as the second worst betrayal in history, second only to Judas' betrayal of Jesus). Brutus is the first to stab Caesar, but wasn't the last. According to Eutropius, witness to the crime, more than 60 men participated in his death goring open his body more than 23 times. Caesar utters his final words in Shakespeare's tragedy Julius Caesar, "Et tu, Brute?"

The last of the traitors is Cassius, who is also one of the main conspirators against Julius Caesar and brother-in-law to Brutus.
"Cassius was one of the busiest conspirators against Caesar, winning over the chief assassins to the cause of tyrannicide. On the Ides of March, 44 BC, Cassius urged on his fellow assassins and struck Caesar in the face. He and his fellow conspirators referred to themselves as the "Liberators" (Liberatores). Though they succeeded in assassinating Caesar, the celebration was short-lived as Marcus Antonius seized power and turned the public against them" (Wikipedia). It is interesting that it is similar to the warning written over the gate leading into hell that Dante reads, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."



The last character of my memory theater is Satan, depicted here as a white wall covered in spray paint graffiti. Its lack of order and broad range of color made it easy for my to imagine it as a colorful lake of fire (or in Dante's case ice because they are so far from God), where Satan is contained somewhere inside.




Here is an artistic rendering of the Satan from Dante's inferno


And here is an diagram of Dante's Inferno...




Friday, March 27, 2009

a place where epithets are still common....THE WWE!!!

This is just fun, I haven't been a fan of "Professional Wrestling" since I was a kid and caught up in the trend. Regardless, I do think that it is funny how the oral culture of epithets is still widely used in the WWE.

Take for example Macho-Man Randy Savage...
Macho Man Randy Savage


"Savage was recognizable by wrestling fans for his distinctively deep, husky voice; colorful attire (often comprised of sunglasses and a bandanna, gaudy robes, and/or a cowboy hat); intensity exhibited in and out of the ring; and his signature catch phrase "Oooh, yeah!"" (Wikipedia). He is also well known for his slim jim commercials, where he bellows at the camera "Snap into a Slim Jim!"

This all came to me one day when we were trying to figure out an epithet for Worded Limbs (can't remember his first name) and all I could think of was WWE type names like "the body"...i decided that if I put that forward as a suggestion people might think I'm weird.

Just for fun again here's a link to an Onion article:

http://www.theonion.com/content/news/make_a_wish_recipient_now_wishes

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

This has been a long time going that I have been meaning to put this blog up...I wrote it out in class one day and never put it up here. Well here it is!

I was thinking about what Sexson was saying with lists and their seemingly magical qualities. My mind was specifically intrigued by Nabokov's list of Dolores Haze's classmates, and his connection to the fact that language was first invented to keep lists (that is to allow accountants to keep track of bills). Sexson (and Humbert Humbert) argue that the role list is really poetry, and in that sense it has literary value. I was thinking about Foucault, and what he was saying about what exactly is a text in his essay What is an Author.

Even when an individual has been accepted as an author, we must still ask whether everything that he wrote, said, or left behind is part of his work. The problem is both theoretical and technical. When undertaking the publication of Nietzsche's works, for example, where should one stop? Surely everything must be published, but what is "everything"? Everything that Nietzsche himself published, certainly. And what about the rough drafts for his works? Obviously. The plans for his aphorisms? Yes. The deleted passagesand the notes at the bottom of the page? Yes. What if, within a workbook filled with aphorisms, one finds a reference, the notation of a meeting or of an address, or a laundry list: is it a work, or not? Why not? And so on, ad infinitum (Foucault).

Foucault is arguing that since we do not consider everything written by an author to be a work (i.e. a "laundry list") then we must first consider the literary significance of a text before we can call something someone writes a work. It might seem that Sexson and Foucault are at odds in their respective ideologies, but they are actual after the same goals. Dolores Haze's role list to Humbert Humbert (and to Sexson and to many others) is poetic and therefore can be considered a work in Foucault's classification. But what does that mean for artistic intention if a random list of names can be considered art? How many people must consider something art for it to be art? Can anything, theoretically, be art? I don't believe any of these answers can be simple, but there seems to be answers to them...

Monday, March 2, 2009

My list of 50 things

Here is my list of 50 things...it is the first 50 people Dante meets on his way through Inferno. A lot of the people on this list are people that interacted with Dante rather than just people he sees.

  1. Virgil
  2. Charon
  3. Homer
  4. Horace
  5. Ovid
  6. Lucan
  7. Elecktra
  8. Hector
  9. Aeneas
  10. Caesar
  11. Socrates
  12. Plato
  13. Orpheus
  14. Cicero
  15. Seneca
  16. Euclid
  17. Hippocrates
  18. Minos
  19. Semiramis
  20. Dido
  21. Cleopatra
  22. Helen
  23. Achilles
  24. Paris
  25. Tristan
  26. Cerberus
  27. Ciacco
  28. Pluto
  29. Phlegyas
  30. Faromata
  31. Minotaur
  32. Nessus
  33. Chiron
  34. Pier delle Vigne
  35. Capaneus
  36. Bruneth
  37. Geryon
  38. Venedico Caccunico
  39. Jason
  40. Alessa Interminei of Lucca
  41. Constantine
  42. Tiresius
  43. Malacoda
  44. Friar Catalano
  45. Vanna Fucci
  46. Ulysses
  47. Guido du Montefelto
  48. Bertrand de Born
  49. Griffolino of Arezzo
  50. Myrrha
  51. Sinon
  52. Nimrod
  53. Antaeus
  54. Bocca
  55. Count Ugolino
  56. Friar Alberigo
  57. Judas
  58. Brutus
  59. Cassius
  60. Satan
I had come with this as my subject for memorization for class before I read this in Yates The Art of Memory:

"That Dante's Inferno could be regarded as a kind of memory system for memorising, Hell and its punishments with striking images on orders of places, will come as a great shock, and I must leave it as a shock. It would take a whole book to work out the implications of such an approach to Dante's poem (95).

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Making Memories Rather than Having Them

When Sexson was talking about how sometimes people can make up memories that don't actually exist it reminded me of a paper that I wrote for another class...It was a response to this paper by DM Murray titled "All Writing is Autobiography." (for reference pg. 207)

http://ninglun.files.wordpress.com/2007/02/dmurraywd06.jpg
Here is a picture of the late Donald M. Murray

I was just going to attach, but I guess I cant...so I will simply copy and paste it.

William Meznarich
ENG 326
Prof. Downs
November 10, 2008

Thought 11: The Place of Stories in Reality

Sorry this took me a little longer to write than most of the other Thought Pieces. I really honestly had the paper more or less planned out when I took off for class at 3 PM, and after I spent around fifteen minutes listening to everyone’s responses to Murray’s article, I realized that everyone had read this article in an entirely different way than I had. It flabbergasted (good word) so much that I had to come home and rethink the entire project and after an hour and it being Friday, well I’ll just leave it to the imagination of how I got distracted until now. Regardless, I will here and now address that issue that so distracted my thoughts, while everyone else was concerned with autobiography and that everything written is based on our experience and or is a direct bi-product of our experience, I was more interested in Murray’s idea that anything written becomes a part of our lives, our memories, and most especially our autobiography. I will take an example from Murray to help explain my point.
It is true that the boy, myself, skated on thin ice and that he skated at Sailor’s Home Pond in Quincy, Massachusetts, although the thin ice may not have been on that pond. He did not, however, see a fish in the ice until I wrote the poem, although he was obsessed with the eyes of the fish, haddock and cod, that followed him when he went to Titus’s fish store in Wollaston. Readers believe that Alex is my brother, although I was an only child. There was no Alex; no one I knew had drowned by falling through the ice until I received the poem; I did not, after loving, stare up to see him skating above me until after I wrote the poem, I do now. The poem that was for a few seconds imaginary has become autobiographical by being written (Murray 70, emphasis added).

Now while the rest of the class was discussing how the trip to the fish store lead to writing a poem about seeing frozen fish in a stream, I was intrigued by Murray’s phrases explaining how he understands the images as they stand now. As he explains in the last sentence, what was once something that was contained in his imagination takes on real life and existence when he writes about it. It is something that I have came across before, in fact all the time, and like Murray all the authors seem to point it out implicitly and not explicitly. After writing this poem, all the images in Murray’s imagination have become real to him, in the very same way that the images are real to a reader, because they exist in reality, in this sense on the page in front of the reader. Stories have an interesting way of being turned into truth, just think of myth#, and how after so many time telling and retelling a story (and in conjunction hearing and rehearing a story) a story becomes real. Many of these myths took place before the advent of writing, allowing the stories to be rewritten and reheard with ease, but even after these stories are scribbled down, they still exert a power of reality even in somewhat stagnant form. The paper itself provides the writing with authority, or at the very least as something of importance, because someone took the time to record it.
Back to what I was saying before, I have also had this experience of imaging something that eventually became very real to me, as have probably any person who considers himself a good storyteller. I have been lucky enough to hone some of my skills to the stage of stand-up comedy, of which I have performed infrequently over the past two years. In my routines, much of my material is based on what I experience in the real world, however, that information is molded by me to accentuate what is funny about what I am talking about. This is a purposeful act; it goes without saying that not everything told in chronological order ends up producing guffaws, but with a little rewriting just about everything can be turned on its head for laughter’s sake. But the problem is that eventually, that made-up story is how I remember the event; eventually, I cannot discern what really happened versus what I made up to make it funnier. And it gets more complicated, sometimes I allow stories I tell people to be fabricated, sometimes parts and sometimes entire stories, making up events and situations in my life that never really exist for no other reason than entertainment. At first, this concerned me greatly, the thought of becoming a fraud or a liar even if just for entertainment’s sake scared me. I was convinced that I would lose the respect of my friends if they knew that a great portion of what I said was not reality. But that is when I made the connection, how fabrication and false reality are a total part of how the world really works. We do not differentiate what is reality and what is said as reality well, and in effect everything is reality (our classes point) because everything we think is based on the experiences we have had throughout our lives. Not only is all fiction, but to an extent, all speaking word is fabricated one way or another to make one point and reversed to make another point. If my goal is to make people laugh then the story will be different then if my goal is to provide a truthful account, like a police report (hopefully this example never comes to happen!). However, since language can only relate information and not reproduce an event as it happens and our memory is absolutely faulty in its attempt to recreate events in our lives exactly how they happened, it is fair to say that all writing and even all spoken word is in some way a fabrication or a rewriting, spoken only because its speaker has a purpose.
With this in mind, I know exactly what Murray means when he says that it is possible that all reading is autobiographical, and it parallels nicely to my research paper. Readers see different things in the same text because like writers readers have intentions and expectations when they read which lead to lead their discovery and interpretation. For a long time (and still today unfortunately), the goal of reading has been to discover what the author meant, and this can’t entirely be blamed on readers’ ignorance because think of language and its purpose, that is to convey meaning from one person to another. When someone says, “I’m going to the gas station. Do you want anything?” the meaning is clear; the purpose of the listener is uncover that clear meaning and respond, a person saying something like “Oh, just because I’m a woman you think I can’t get anything for myself? That I need help?” This is an example of that break of meaning and how language can sometimes fail us. What we thought was something that had clear meaning, can be reinterpretated by the listener to mean something else, while the original meaning is still left intact. This second interpretation is something guided by our values and what we are looking to discover, and is very much like my point in the beginning of how I can see something that no one else appears to see. I, like my made up feminist, am reading according to my values. Now remembering my reading and taking it with me, is how reading becomes autobiographical. How I can remember events and stories told to me by other people is how reading can become autobiographical. Language and learning even is itself autobiographical, which leads to Murray’s main point that writing is autobiographical, for what am I doing now? Isn’t what I’m saying here now a part of my life and my history?

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

attempt at the conversion

At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to undertake this...assignment may I say, but as I was walking back home I couldn't get the idea out of my head.

I remember when I read Ulysses, it was difficult and sifting through all of the information proved to be more of an arduous intellectual task than any other book I had picked up. I thought the same thing...as the anti-joycian, not because she doesn't deserve a name but simply because I have not learned it yet and I do not wish to offend her. Like her, I was a bit confused why someone would want to write about such seemingly trivial things...like going to the market to buy something for breakfast. You could easily ask the same question as to why we as a class have to remember about "the cooler" or "how beaugoin means beautiful eyes?" or "when Jon Nay's 21st birthday party is?" Trivial facts...seemingly no purpose, right? But this seems to be Sexson's purpose.

I remember why I read Ulysses for the first time. It's a simple reason. I came to the conclusion that I was interested in pursuing a doctorate in English Literature somewhere, so after hearing Sexson's speech about Ulysses in a classical literature class about Bloomsday and the trek people make...to celebrate a book, and to celebrate the life of a fictional character on an ordinary day.

Anyone who has been an English major for any amount of time have been at least once asked about the triviality of the degree; something along the lines of "I heard you got your English Literature degree...I hope your parents are proud of your overated book club membership."
Is it? Is it just a degree for people who enjoy reading...stories!?!

If you have been long enough in the major (and have been paying attention) you are provided an answer to this question, which goes something like, "English Literature as a member of the Humanities, is a study of the human condition through the lense of literature, texts, oral traditions...etc."

To me this assessment (or defense) makes sense and it makes sense in the same way that I see value in a 800+ page Joyce novel about a single day in an ordinary man's life. Joyce cannot simply write "and then Bloom went to the store to buy his wife Molly breakfast" but must write about what REALLY happened...for it is true that life is not as simple as some stories and sentences can be. Bloom saw things, heard things, thought things, felt things, and experienced his world in a way much closer to reality.

I will give an excerpt now (feel free to read past if you already agree with me):

His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of air: mouth to her womb. Oomb, allwombing tomb. His mouth moulded issuing breath, unspeeched: ooeeehah: roar of cataractic planets, globed, blazing, roaring wayawayawayawaywaywaywaywayaway. Paper. The banknotes, blast them. Old Deasy's letter. Here. Thanking you for hospitality tear the blank end off. Turning his back to the sun he bent over far to a table of rock and scribbled words. That's twice I forgot to take slips from the library counter.
His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. Why not endless till the farthest star? Darkly they are there behind this light, darkness shining in the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Me sits there with his augur's rod of ash, in borrowed sandals, by day beside a livid sea, unbeheld, in violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. I throw this ended shadow from me, manshape inelectable, call it back. Endless, would it be mind, form of my form? Who watches me here? Who ever anywhere will read these written words? Signs on a white field. Somewhere to someone in your flutiest voice. The good bishop of Cloyne took the veil of the temple out of his shovel hat: veil of space with coloured emblems hatched on its field. Hold hard. Coloured on a flat: yes, that's right. Flat I see, then think distance, near, far, flat I see, east, back. Ah, see now. Falls back suddenly, frozen in stereoscope. Click does the trick. You find my words dark. Darkness is in our souls, do you not think? Flutier. Our souls, shame-wounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more (Joyce 48).


To Joyce there is value in the ordinary, in the trivial, that to him, Bloom going to the marketplace holds as much value as Dante's trip into the Inferno. And because of the canonization of Ulysses, we are all forced to agree with him!
By connecting Bloom's day to that of Homer's Odyssey, we are forced to see them in the same light, that a random man's ordinary day is of as much importance as one of the foundational works of Western Literature. In association then our ordinary days are just as beautiful and memorable as Bloom's. His point (one of many) is that there is art and beauty in everyone of our days...we are just not trained to see it or appreciate it. We study literature for the same reason that Sexson has us memorize seemingly trivial things...to get at the greater beauty and knowledge contained in the REAL world...the same way that Joyce and Proust and all artists understood it. The problem is that we can't look at the real world but only "trivial" reproductions of it...like Bloom's day, or was the cooler cleaned out!

Thursday, January 29, 2009

me working out ONG 35

It's just something that jumped out at me...something that I've looked over in studying these wisdom statements.

"Fixed, often rhythmically balanced, expressions of this sort and of other sorts can be found occasionally in print, indeed can be 'looked up' in books of sayings, but in oral cultures they are not occasional. They are incessant. They form the substance of thought itself. Thought in any extended form is impossible without them, for it consists in them."

To literate society, these are just wisdom statements with some sort of logic possessed within them. However, nowadays nobody would say that a person who has a great memory of these statements would be wise...nowadays if someone were to say to me something proverbial like say I come in late to this 9 am class and say, "Aww, my back is killing me! I was up till 3 last night." and someone responds saying,

"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise."

I'm not 100% sure how I would respond...it's possible that I might just give him an incredulous stare....I imagine I could come up with a response eventually, but it would probably just be "ummm, yeah" or something to that effect.

However surprising it may be that these proverbs were knowledge to people in the world today, it makes sense to a pre-literate society. Just like we were talking about in class, if you can't write something down then you have to remember it, and of course the best way to remember it is to make it formulaic, as in rhyming or in verse.
Can you imagine the first shift, that is from the oral culture with knowledge contained in formulaic sayings to a literate culture where knowledge can be saved in writing and not necessarily simply remembered?

It's actually easy to imagine since we have many proverbs from the previous oral culture with us here today, such as the Book of Proverbs in the Bible, and new proverbs are being invented all the time throughout human history, such as Benjamin Franklin's Poor Richards Almanack, where the above proverb was taken.

The interesting thing to think of is that people at one time actually read these collected sayings to GAIN knowledge. It doesn't seem like knowledge at all, because we are so immersed in literacy...I guess that's why I looked over it.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

my first memory--money in the crib

so my first memory is a bit unusual...when I was in the 3rd or 4th grade I was asked to answer this same question...and when I thought and thought for most of the day trying to recall (and recall chronologically) so after awhile I started looking at pictures of me when I was very young. And one picture that I looked at caused me to recall the memory of the event. It was a picture of me, in a crib, holding a bunch of money. The only problem (not realized as a problem by me) was that I was only 11 months old.
I remember the scene, everything was fuzzy and lacked form. I was on my back and the sun was shining in from the window closest to my left foot and it was blurred into the brown rails of my crib; the money in my hands did not have its usual form but instead just looked like a green blob. It wasn't really a scene, but more of a picture that I remember...















The problem was that my teacher didn't believe me, she told me that it was impossible for me to remember that. The only reason I didn't take her word for it was because of the memory I had of the sun shining in. It was such a ordinary detail in the picture...the fact that the sun was shining in on me...that I highly doubt that I could have even recognized it in the picture to imagine it. And to add to that, I wasn't trying to make anything up in the first place anyways...I looked at a multitude of pictures from before that and my memory did not recall anything.
Regardless, I came up with another memory for the class project; me watching my dad watch football and me mimicking his reactions. It worked for the assignment, but I always thought that that first memory was genuine

Monday, January 26, 2009

Stand up poets?

As I was reading Chapter 2 in Ong's Orality and Literacy, I realized that there was significant resemblances of the rules and properties of oral poetry to common day stand up comedy. I will explain by using examples that seemed obvious to me when I was reading last night.

"Poets...were not expected to use prefabricated material. If a poet did echo bits of earlier poems, he was expected to modulate this into his own 'kind of thing'" (Ong, 21).

"Only beginners or permanently poor poets used prefabricated stuff" (Ong, 22).

If one simply replaces the word poet with stand up comedian and the word poems into material or more specifically other comedians material, it is easy to see the similarities that first struck me. As a general rule in the stand-up community, it is very much discouraged to use another comedian's material. Offenders are known as hacks, and are often black-balled by the entire community. see these links for some examples of this in real life:


Dane Cook accused of stealing jokes:

(note: I know alot of people who are fans of Dane Cook...I'm not trying to go after him or anything. But it is true that of the many stand-up comedians I have talked to ALL of them consider him a hack)

Carlos Mencia accused by Joe Rogan:
Basically Joe Rogan calls out Mencia for being a fraud (i.e. he's not really mexican, he's actually from Honduras, his name is not Carlos but Paul I think anyways, and he stole jokes and the comedian he stole them from confronts him)


However one argument that is easily made by comedians accused of stealing material is the commonality of what's funny. For example think about relationships between men of women...like married people don't have sex or are miserable. The argument is that comedians generally can notice the same things as funny in society but they go after it in different ways. Thus comedians are drawing awareness to the same thing but doing their "own kind of thing" as Ong is talking about.

Like the oral poets, a stand-up comedian's bit is based on a formulaic system that is memorized and is also made on the fly depending on the response of the audience. Also, pieces are altered, added, or deleted based on what the comedian guesses will work (that is make people laugh and not be pissed...for example not the best idea to make fun of Butte in Butte, but GREAT idea in Bozeman or anywhere else in Montana).
Thus often every performance of a stand up routine will be different every time, but also very very similar because of the original memorized formula.

There is however a difference between a stand-up performance and a blonde joke or a chicken crossed the road joke or a knock-knock joke. These kind of jokes depend upon a strict (yet flexible) formulaic structure.

George Carlin writes in his book When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?

"A GENERIC JOKE: A person goes into a place and says something to another person. The second person says something back to the first person, who listens to that and then says something back to the second person. The thing he says back is really funny."



More or less, jokes depend upon this formulaic structure even to simply deviate from it. For example: many jokes can be explained in two ways, but not all, it would take too much thinking right now for me to uncover them all.

An event is presented, the listener is led to believe that a certain occurrence will happen, and another occurrence happens that the listener did not see coming and thus it is funny.

Two men are out golfing. Upon seeing a funeral procession in the distance, the man driving the golf cart stops, steps out, and removes his hat, while the other man watches in confusion. When the procession is finished and out of sight, the man puts back on his hat and gets in the cart and starts driving as if nothing had happened. The other man says "why did you do that?" The man says, "well I was married to her for 30 years, I figured it was the least I could do."

What's funny in the joke is that the listener did not see the conclusion coming and the irony of "the least you can do" is realized, as a man is literally doing about the least he can do when his wife dies.

This is interesting and I think I will try and get back to this later...

Thursday, January 15, 2009

First day of class

try as I might I could not unearth what my last name means...and unfortunately I did not think finding out that meaning (if it exists because according to some of the sites I looked at some names don't mean squat!) was important enough for me to dive into that never-ending game of discovery and filing known as "genealogy."

My mom always tries to play that game with me...telling me what different ethnicities I am (German-French-Jewish--interesting combo). All in all, it doesn't really interest me. But I did want to find out what my last name means...I guess mainly just because it is such an important part of my identity. In an odd way, when you say "Meznarich" you mean me...in a sense anyways. And this name being so linked to me as a person, I suppose I simply wanted to understand where it came from, as if when I understood that it would lead to some sort of epiphany or at least provide an albeit weak explanation of me. I suppose I was taken up for a minute with the romantic notion that my name might mean something stoic or simply cool.
But unfortunately I couldn't find anything, and I think I'm okay with that.
I am an English major, so I'll just steal that maxim "what's in a name" and call this blog done.