In taking the class, Telling the Story Queer I have learned a great deal. I think our final discussion on our readings wrapped up my thoughts about the class. There are many definitions on what queer literature is. There is the definition of touching on the subject of the queer community and what it entails. Then there is the literal “queer” aspects of the literature, meaning odd or unusual. All of our texts fit into the definition that we drew up.
We have read some of the oddest materials I have read ever. I believe that the queerest story that we read was Love Might Be Too Strong A Word. It had both aspects of the queer literature definition. It definitely had the queer community aspects with Mab and yrs tendency to sleep with members of the same social class. Then you have the language and the way it is written that is queer as well. I think this story has set the bar high for the queerest text.
My thinking has changed a lot from the beginning of this class. My definition of what queer is changed to a more broadened one. When I started the class I had thought that it was just going to concentrate on the LGBTQ community. Yet upon finishing the class I know that it has a bigger definition than just concentrating on that one aspect. I loved being able to learn from a wide variety of texts that I do not believe that I would have come across in my spare time.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Final Thoughts
I enrolled in the FYSEM class Telling the Story Queer, because queer literature happens to be one of my favorite topics; whether the text is queer theoretically, sexually, or philosophically I enjoy writings which seek to annihilate limitations, “the arts, whatever their materials, pressed forward by the aesthetics of the sublime in search of intense effects, can and must give up the imitation of models that are merely beautiful, and try out surprising, strange, shocking combinations. Shock is, par excellence, the evidence of something happening, rather than nothing, suspended privation,” (Jean-François Lyotard). Although I don’t appreciate a lot of conceptual art (concept>aesthetic), I have come to be able to appreciate and respect it, for the vitality of art is dependent upon its ability to thwart a stagnant nature. Queer art does not imitate models; it divorces itself from what is thought to be “the best way of doing things” or a normative idea of “beauty”. And I want to suggest only queer art can be sublime, in accordance with Immanuel Kant’s idea of the “sublime”.
The detonation of the word sublime isn’t entirely foreign to Kant’s interpretation and connotation; sublime according to the Webster dictionary is “tending to inspire awe usually because of elevated quality (as of beauty, nobility, or grandeur) or transcendent excellence. A work of art is subjective; some works of art may inspire awe (or sublimity) in only a select few. But personally I do not think a literary work of art is of “transcendent excellence” if it stays within an archetypal story model or doesn’t suggest anything unfamiliar.
Parroting Lyotard, I want to be shocked and surprised; I want to feel my idea(s) of what and what doesn’t constitutes art, not belittled but disputed and altered.
Kant’s interpretation of the sublime is as follows: (when)… the mind feels agitated, while in an aesthetic judgment about the beautiful in nature it is in restful contemplation. This agitation (above all at its inception) can be compared with a vibration, i.e. with a rapid alternation of repulsion from, and attraction to, one and the same object. If a thing is excessive for the imagination (and the imagination is driven to such excess as it apprehends the thing in intuition), then the thing is, as it were, an abyss in which the imagination is afraid to lose itself,” (Critique of Judgment).
Why do I think (in accordance with Kant) only queer literature can be sublime? For me to feel inspired, be in awe of, or describe something with a quality of transcendent excellence I cannot simply be appreciative of a common aesthetic. It is only through a relationship between attraction and initial repulsion this can occur. If I am confronted with something beautiful (Kant’s definition) it does not press against my imagination.
For his audience, Kant writes a formula able to define the sublime, “The sublime is that, the mere capacity of thinking which evidences a faculty of mind transcending every standard of sense” and when one experiences the sublime, “ a feeling comes home to him of the inadequacy of his imagination for presenting the idea of a whole within which that imagination attains its maximum, and, in its fruitless efforts to extend this limit, recoils upon itself, but in so doing succumbs to an emotional delight”. Sublimity is relative and ephemeral but differs from the beautiful in that our imagination cannot fully comprehend the extent of its nature; the feelings produced from this experience are sublime.
I’ll leave this idea with a quote, “A masterpiece of fiction is an original world and as such is not likely to fit the world of the reader” (Nabokov).
I particularly enjoyed some of the short stories and Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas. And although I initially disliked Shiga’s Meanwhile I came to be able to appreciate it; perhaps I should read it again as it certainly provoked my imagination and ability to imagine. I enjoyed the blogs because in writing I can express with more lucidity what I intend to convey than I can in informal discourse. I am able to develop ideas more thoroughly than while talking, because I can see my thoughts recorded on paper and continue to build upon them while increasing the quality of them through editing. And thirdly I can better draw upon ideas from people across the world and across time; people who were and are more diverse and intelligent than I: people who have experienced things I have not yet experienced and am incapable of experiencing. I also enjoy reading the blogs from everyone on the same text I read, as not every idea a person has or wants to develop is shared within the time confines of class. Some of the most brilliant things I have heard, often come from people who do not usually speak, “A wise man speaks because he has something to say; a fool because he has to say something” (Plato perhaps).
I know there was some opposition expressed towards Valente’s In the Night Garden but rather than solely criticizing it, I would like to suggest, for those were not fond of the text, to recommend different texts they think manifest better a “queer text”.
I would personally like to recommend Lionel Shriver’s We Need to Talk about Kevin; it delves into controversial issues with brutal honesty and outstanding insight while remaining queer as an epistolary novel (contained in or carried on by letters). And while some may have read epistolary books prior to the class, the book remains queer in plot as the writer of the letters is the mother of Kevin, a boy who commits massacre in a shooting at his high school. The very thought of being a mother to such a person, I think constitutes with the idea of Kant’s sublime; it is alluring, repulsive and incomprehensible. Here is but a small taste of Shriver: ““It isn't very nice to admit, but domestic violence has its uses. So raw and unleashed, it tears away the veil of civilization that comes between us as much as it makes life possible. A poor substitute for the sort of passion we like to extol perhaps, but real love shares more in common with hatred and rage than it does with geniality or politeness” (We Need to Talk about Kevin).
What does it mean to tell a story queer? Simply stated, I think telling a story queer is telling a story well.
The detonation of the word sublime isn’t entirely foreign to Kant’s interpretation and connotation; sublime according to the Webster dictionary is “tending to inspire awe usually because of elevated quality (as of beauty, nobility, or grandeur) or transcendent excellence. A work of art is subjective; some works of art may inspire awe (or sublimity) in only a select few. But personally I do not think a literary work of art is of “transcendent excellence” if it stays within an archetypal story model or doesn’t suggest anything unfamiliar.
Parroting Lyotard, I want to be shocked and surprised; I want to feel my idea(s) of what and what doesn’t constitutes art, not belittled but disputed and altered.
Kant’s interpretation of the sublime is as follows: (when)… the mind feels agitated, while in an aesthetic judgment about the beautiful in nature it is in restful contemplation. This agitation (above all at its inception) can be compared with a vibration, i.e. with a rapid alternation of repulsion from, and attraction to, one and the same object. If a thing is excessive for the imagination (and the imagination is driven to such excess as it apprehends the thing in intuition), then the thing is, as it were, an abyss in which the imagination is afraid to lose itself,” (Critique of Judgment).
Why do I think (in accordance with Kant) only queer literature can be sublime? For me to feel inspired, be in awe of, or describe something with a quality of transcendent excellence I cannot simply be appreciative of a common aesthetic. It is only through a relationship between attraction and initial repulsion this can occur. If I am confronted with something beautiful (Kant’s definition) it does not press against my imagination.
For his audience, Kant writes a formula able to define the sublime, “The sublime is that, the mere capacity of thinking which evidences a faculty of mind transcending every standard of sense” and when one experiences the sublime, “ a feeling comes home to him of the inadequacy of his imagination for presenting the idea of a whole within which that imagination attains its maximum, and, in its fruitless efforts to extend this limit, recoils upon itself, but in so doing succumbs to an emotional delight”. Sublimity is relative and ephemeral but differs from the beautiful in that our imagination cannot fully comprehend the extent of its nature; the feelings produced from this experience are sublime.
I’ll leave this idea with a quote, “A masterpiece of fiction is an original world and as such is not likely to fit the world of the reader” (Nabokov).
I particularly enjoyed some of the short stories and Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas. And although I initially disliked Shiga’s Meanwhile I came to be able to appreciate it; perhaps I should read it again as it certainly provoked my imagination and ability to imagine. I enjoyed the blogs because in writing I can express with more lucidity what I intend to convey than I can in informal discourse. I am able to develop ideas more thoroughly than while talking, because I can see my thoughts recorded on paper and continue to build upon them while increasing the quality of them through editing. And thirdly I can better draw upon ideas from people across the world and across time; people who were and are more diverse and intelligent than I: people who have experienced things I have not yet experienced and am incapable of experiencing. I also enjoy reading the blogs from everyone on the same text I read, as not every idea a person has or wants to develop is shared within the time confines of class. Some of the most brilliant things I have heard, often come from people who do not usually speak, “A wise man speaks because he has something to say; a fool because he has to say something” (Plato perhaps).
I know there was some opposition expressed towards Valente’s In the Night Garden but rather than solely criticizing it, I would like to suggest, for those were not fond of the text, to recommend different texts they think manifest better a “queer text”.
I would personally like to recommend Lionel Shriver’s We Need to Talk about Kevin; it delves into controversial issues with brutal honesty and outstanding insight while remaining queer as an epistolary novel (contained in or carried on by letters). And while some may have read epistolary books prior to the class, the book remains queer in plot as the writer of the letters is the mother of Kevin, a boy who commits massacre in a shooting at his high school. The very thought of being a mother to such a person, I think constitutes with the idea of Kant’s sublime; it is alluring, repulsive and incomprehensible. Here is but a small taste of Shriver: ““It isn't very nice to admit, but domestic violence has its uses. So raw and unleashed, it tears away the veil of civilization that comes between us as much as it makes life possible. A poor substitute for the sort of passion we like to extol perhaps, but real love shares more in common with hatred and rage than it does with geniality or politeness” (We Need to Talk about Kevin).
What does it mean to tell a story queer? Simply stated, I think telling a story queer is telling a story well.
Closing Thoughts
I want to reiterate what I said at the end of our final class: it has been an honor for me to think about our texts with you this semester. I have learned so much from your thoughts and ideas and appreciate your willingness to be in conversation together about difficult material. You asked for me to post the short, short that I wrote that was influenced by Cloud Atlas. I've pasted it in below. Although I hadn't read "The Ones who Walk Away from Omelas" before I wrote this, I can see some affinity between the narrators in these two stories. I appreciate feedback, if you've got any. Critical feedback is great; tho' it's always nice to hear when my writing works, I find my writing improves the most when people point out why and where it's not working.
The Carving
Along the top edge of the wooden
carving there is a dark sky.
Darker brown, wavy lines depict wind blowing. Against the dark sky there is a twig and sod hut. It is where she lived, as a child. A choppy river runs horizontally
through the carving, filling in the bottom half of the block. Really, all of this is just
background. It’s not what your
eyes would focus on if I were to show you this carving. Instead, what you would see would be a
girl. She sits on the dirt in
front of the hut, carving. Her simple dress is sleeveless, her brown arms and
legs are muscled. She is small,
petite. Shavings curl around her head, bouncing. Her eyes, though crafted of wood, are vibrant. She is a willow tree. She is flowing water. She is sap, coursing through xylem,
pushing through phloem.
In the spark etched into her eye is
reflected another image, a sketch. At the top edge of this drawing there is a
cloud-filled sky. Against these
clouds there is a metal shack.
Where she lived, as a child.
A stony path runs horizontally through the picture. The stones are large; jagged edges
rising up out of level. Behind the
path is a fire. Really, all of
this is just background. It is not
what your eyes would focus on if I were to show it to you. Instead, what you would see would be a
woman. At her feet, a whittled stick turns to coal in the embers of the
fire. The sleeves and hem of her
grey dress are torn; her arms and legs poke out from it--harsh, black lines. She is thin. Her eyes are dark smudges. She is a twig clutching one papery leaf.
In her hands she holds another
image, a photo of the apartment building where she lived as a child. There is no background in the
Polaroid. There is no sky. The foreground is completely taken up
with red, sooty bricks. The only
thing interrupting this expanse of rust wall is a smudged window, through which
you would see a woman with curly brown and grey hair and an open photo album. The album is opened to the page
containing the only surviving photograph of the townhouse where she lived as a
child. In this sepia-tinted photo,
a group is gathered on the granite doorstep. If I were to show it to you, you would see that at the very
center is a baby, wearing a creamy baptism dress, an open locket around her small
neck. The rest of her family has
faded into the background of the fading photograph. The watercolor contained in the open locket is of the
farmhouse where she lived, as a child.
She is standing to the right side of the pale yellow house, her palm held
outward, shading her eyes, obscuring her face. In the creases of her palm is imprinted the memory of the
thatched roof cottage where she lived as a child. On one of the stones that make up the walls of this cottage
is a petrogylph of the cave where she lived as a child.
You would see it clearly. If I were to show it to you.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Final Reflection
I have learned many things from our first year seminar. Just being in class discussions opened my mind to experience how other people think. I also enjoyed the readings because in a normal setting I wouldn't have read these sort of books.
Presenting my research to the class was a objective that really made me motivated to do well. I didn't want to look bad in front of my peers, so I made sure I knew everything about the subject I researched.
Finally, I thought that the blogs became annoying towards the end of the semester. I think that they should have been graded, but I think it should have been less demanding because we are discussing our opinions.
Overall, I learned a lot from the class, but I am disappointed in my grade.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
The Queer Experience
I wasn’t really sure what to expect when I heard the title of the course. I wasn’t sure how much I would learn from the class or how much I would gain from the class. I can say that I gained a lot more than a thought I would.
The different texts, especially the ones that centered around LBGT and gender equality, taught me how to be more open minded to different lifestyles. I like to think that I was already pretty open minded about things but this course helped me to become even more open minded.
One course material that really helped me was “Love Might Be Too Strong a Word”. It helped me because I had never really thought about the pronouns we use to describe gender. I was always one of those people that if I didn’t know if something was feminine or masculine I just called it “it” without a second thought about how the word “it” could be hurtful, especially when describing someone. I know see that people can’t always be so easily classified like I was taught in elementary school.
Telling the Story Queer means more to me that I thought it would. To me it describes not just the material taught in class but also the people that took the class. Queer for means something that’s different or can’t be easily labeled and that’s the people in the class for me. No one person in that class can be judged on how they look on the outside. From Piper Passages to the last actual day of class my first impressions of everyone changed drastically.
Above anything else the class taught me not to prejudge anyone or try to place a label on them based off the first impression they give off.
The different texts, especially the ones that centered around LBGT and gender equality, taught me how to be more open minded to different lifestyles. I like to think that I was already pretty open minded about things but this course helped me to become even more open minded.
One course material that really helped me was “Love Might Be Too Strong a Word”. It helped me because I had never really thought about the pronouns we use to describe gender. I was always one of those people that if I didn’t know if something was feminine or masculine I just called it “it” without a second thought about how the word “it” could be hurtful, especially when describing someone. I know see that people can’t always be so easily classified like I was taught in elementary school.
Telling the Story Queer means more to me that I thought it would. To me it describes not just the material taught in class but also the people that took the class. Queer for means something that’s different or can’t be easily labeled and that’s the people in the class for me. No one person in that class can be judged on how they look on the outside. From Piper Passages to the last actual day of class my first impressions of everyone changed drastically.
Above anything else the class taught me not to prejudge anyone or try to place a label on them based off the first impression they give off.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Cloud Atlas
One thing that really intrigued me about this novel is the way the context in which the book was written. I made many comparisons with this book and the books we read in the past. The books that i thought were similar to the Cloud Atlas were, In The Night Garden and Meanwhile. I thought In The Night Garden had the closest comparison to the Cloud Atlas with how the book jumped from story to story. Even though Cloud Atlas's story line was more like a pyramid, I made my connection based on the jumping back and forth to different stories. When comparing Cloud Atlas to Meanwhile, I saw their connection in how unique the concept of the two books where. With Meanwhile being unique in the way that you can choose your own story and destiny in the book. In Cloud Atlas being unique in the way that I have never read a book with a "pyramid" shaped timeline.
However, even though I found Cloud Atlas to be creative and unique I still did no enjoy the read because of the jumping of stories. I found myself having to go back and re-read what I had just previously read a lot.
I did however enjoy the section called Adam Edwing's arch because of how fact that the world was bare and just sitting there untouched. It made me think and wish I could of been around in that time period. imagine being one of the only ones around. that thought fascinates me, being able to live and truly do what you believe in or just want to do. I would really enjoy that
However, even though I found Cloud Atlas to be creative and unique I still did no enjoy the read because of the jumping of stories. I found myself having to go back and re-read what I had just previously read a lot.
I did however enjoy the section called Adam Edwing's arch because of how fact that the world was bare and just sitting there untouched. It made me think and wish I could of been around in that time period. imagine being one of the only ones around. that thought fascinates me, being able to live and truly do what you believe in or just want to do. I would really enjoy that
Friday, December 9, 2011
Cloud Atlas
The thing that most intrigued me about Cloud Atlas was the way society was shown deteriorating and then rising again. This is illustrated more literally by the ascending and descending of characters in each arch.
In Adam Ewing's arch, society was at its peak. The world was waiting to be explored and discovered, and this made it possible for people to live how they wanted. Well, except for slaves. That part wasn't so good. But apart from that, society was at its peak. After that things got worse with each new reincarnation until Sonmi-451, where it was at its worst, so then things could only get better and start from the bottom up again with Zachery and Meronym's arch.
I think that the theme of the characters ascending and descending is related to the theme of society's own rising and falling. I think each example of the characters ascension and descention was meant to mirror the rising and falling of the quality of society. Maybe this suggests that each reincarnation's society went through a little different graphing than what Lisa had drawn on the board, but it might have looked more squiggly on the way down. like it goes down, then back up a little, but then drops further for the next reincarnation's society. What do you think?
In Adam Ewing's arch, society was at its peak. The world was waiting to be explored and discovered, and this made it possible for people to live how they wanted. Well, except for slaves. That part wasn't so good. But apart from that, society was at its peak. After that things got worse with each new reincarnation until Sonmi-451, where it was at its worst, so then things could only get better and start from the bottom up again with Zachery and Meronym's arch.
I think that the theme of the characters ascending and descending is related to the theme of society's own rising and falling. I think each example of the characters ascension and descention was meant to mirror the rising and falling of the quality of society. Maybe this suggests that each reincarnation's society went through a little different graphing than what Lisa had drawn on the board, but it might have looked more squiggly on the way down. like it goes down, then back up a little, but then drops further for the next reincarnation's society. What do you think?
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