dear universe, i am working on my thesis

and working on a thesis turns out to be really difficult, but really great at the same time. I have been working on my project for over a year (about 14 months now. Yes, I talk about it like it’s a child. It wears size 6 diapers.) and it seems to be shaping up quite well (I hope). The project is self-reflexive and deals in epistle as narrative structure in terms of its form, and issues of identity, mental illness, and loss (with an emphasis on the domestic and the constructed space of the garden). This sounds like “woah! that’s a lot of words you put out there!” but I find it hard to explain what I am doing in the same way that I find it easy to identify what I think other writers are doing in their work. Anyway, I figured maybe I’d put a couple little tidbits up here just for fun (since apparently someone other than me has read this, what? who are you?) and to get myself practiced in writing up here again (which I never really got the hang of) as I prepare to post reviews of the books I have to (get to) read for my reading list. I just wrote these today, so they’re fairly raw and unfinished. So, here are some tiny poems from the (probably) ending portion of my series Dear Alice:

So there you have it! Some poems from me just to say “what’s up!” and “here are some things I made!” Soonly there will be some reviews of books up (hopefully). Also here’s a link to OxMag: The Blog, which I sometimes write wrap-ups of readings and events for (because I’m the poetry editor over there? yeah. yes I am.).

hello there, old blog i had abandoned.

Hello world, I am blogging maybe about some stuff now. I think that this will be a good way for me to organize the things I’m doing and what I’ve been thinking about, as well as keep track of my reading list for my thesis work by writing reviews and thoughts on the things I’m reading. This will also be a place where I’ll talk about things like how to exist with a gluten intolerance, the different health and beauty stuff I try out (just start doing the no-poo thing, more to come about that later), and maybe some dealings/reminiscences with/on depression, anxiety, and ADHD as well as grad school because come on, that’s a disease/disorder too.

Alright, player haters, there will be more to come soon!

Alice

books are friends with other books.

I just finished reading A Farewell to Arms by Hemingway and on pg. 243 of my copy this paragraph happens:

“In civilian clothes I felt like a masquerader. I had been in uniform a long time and I missed the feeling of being held by your clothes. The trousers felt very floppy. I had bought a ticket at Milan for Stresa. I had also bought a new hat. I could not wear Sim’s hat but his clothes were fine. They smelled of tobacco and as I sat in the compartment and looked out the window the new hat felt very new and the clothes very old. I myself felt as sad as the wet Lombard country that was outside through the window. There were aviators in the compartment who did not think much of me. They avoided looking at me and were very scornful of a civilian my age. I did not feel insulted. In the old days I would have insulted them and picked a fight. They got off a Gallarate and I was glad to be alone. I had the paper but I did not read it because I did not want to read about the war. I was going to forget the war. I had made a separate peace. I felt damned lonely and was glad when the train got to Stresa.”

When I read this passage I immediately thought of A Separate Peace by John Knowles, which was written 30 years after A Farewell to Arms and thought to myself “could there possibly be a connection between this passage and A Separate Peace. So I did a little googling, and of course there is.  The title is derived from this passage and the connections between the two novels are unavoidable, both in terms of plot and the themes addressed.

In each novel, war is, obviously, a hugely important theme. However, it is not the actions of the war itself that are the most significant, but rather the tensions caused by it and the emotional consequences of those issues. In A Farewell to Arms, Henry is less affected by the trials of actual battle than from the residual effects of the war on those around him. For example, he sees his roommate Rinaldi apparently begin to slip mentally after Henry returns from the hospital after his injury. Rinaldi begins to be worn down from the stress of his own potential illness (the possibility that he has syphilis) and the strain of working long hours operating on wounded men. Being confronted constantly by the disfigured human form begins to distort his mental state causes him to feel lost and shaken when he is not performing a task that requires his full attention. He is unable to separate himself from the war. On page 167 of my copy of the novel he says to Henry, “this war is killing me… I am very depressed by it” and his mood shifts from cheerful to sad to belligerent to sad to cheerful throughout the next several pages, which are the last we see of him in the novel.

I can’t help but compare this to Elwin “Leper” Lepellier in A Separate Peace. Leper is the first one to enlist in the war in the novel and later has a mental breakdown and returns home to the isolation of his parents’ home in northern New England. He is characterized as smart and fragile, unable to handle the stress of even preparing for the war. When Gene goes to visit him at his parents’ after he has left the military, it is clear that he is mentally and emotionally broken.

Similarly, there is a significant leg injury in each novel. Henry’s leg is smashed at the knee in A Farewell to Arms, while Phineas’ leg is broken at the fault of Gene in A Separate Peace. While Phineas’ wound has a different context, due to the relationship between him and Gene and the reasons for his injury, it is nonetheless a turning point for his character, as well as the novel itself.  The same can be said for Henry’s injury in A Farewell to Arms. Before Henry’s injury, the war doesn’t seem real to him. In the scenes just before he is injured there is talk of not being able to realize the war: “There is nothing as bad as war. We in the auto-ambulance cannot even realize at all how bad it is. When people realize how bad it is they cannot do anything to stop it because they go crazy. There are some people who never realize” (50). When Henry returns from the hospital and his leg has healed, it seems that everyone he knew has realized the war, and he has as well, though perhaps not more so than after Aymo is killed by frightened Italian soldiers and Henry is then almost shot for being an officer not with his troops. He then leaves the war entirely, ending up in a small mountain town with Catherine. This also relates back to the relationship to Leper I made a few paragraphs ago in that he leaves the war for a snowy, period of isolation that could be seen as a purification from the war.

I will talk about that more for a moment, because I think it is important to note that both characters are forced back into the realm of death and destruction after their time of purification/denial. Henry comes down out the mountains with Catherine and she then dies in childbirth due to complications (hemorrhages, specifically) of a C-section delivery of a still-born son. Leper returns to the school after his retreat in either Maine or Vermont (I don’t have the book on me, presently), and takes part in the midnight trial of Gene for his part in Finny’s accident, and subsequently Finny’s death, which is also due to complications of a medical procedure.

Now I will go back to the theme of injury in the novels. Phineas’ injury is caused by a fall. The symbolism of that is obvious, especially as his character is built into the all-American dream boy. His fall symbolizes the inability of the fantasy of the American ideal to stand cohesive in a time as devastating as WWII. The innocence of youth is necessarily destroyed and the characters are forced to realize their own mortality, similar to Henry’s realization of the realities of the war and the possibility of his own death. To be honest, this similarity is not quite as interesting to me as the others, due to the total over-simplification of the symbolism of Phineas’ injury that is a part of everyone’s high school English class, and I would rather not spend time focusing on something that has been explored repeatedly.

Mainly, I was thrilled to discover the connection between these two novels, and even more excited to continue building the relationship between them.  Both are novels about war that are more about the human condition in the face of destruction, not only of a physical sort but of the human psyche as well, than they are about the mechanics of war itself . The actual events of the war  in each novel are removed from the characters until they cause injury, and after which point the war becomes all too real, causing the characters to remove themselves or be forcibly removed from the war. This removal proves to be impossible, as mortality and destruction reach beyond the realm of war and into the whole of life.

frustration shmustration, right?

No-Man’s Land, here I come!  Because I’m half grad-student, half undergrad-student, whenever I get an email from the school I have to send one back that says “does this apply to me?” I’m a halfsie, a misfit, a weirdo. Big deal, right? Right. It’s not a big deal to do something different from the norm. The problem here is what it seems to be doing to me as a writer. In taking this step I feel as though I’ve said to everyone “look at me, because I can do this, I promise!” but now I’m doubting myself.

At this point, it’s as though every time I pick up a pen or open up a fresh Word document my mind goes right to, “okay, what’s new and unusual and hasn’t been done yet? What will impress people and let them know that I wasn’t a mistake?” It’s difficult not to let the self-consciousness of knowing that somebody will eventually read what you’re writing affect the piece itself. How do you write with readers floating over your shoulder without writing for others?

I re-read an excellent piece the other day by a Cincinnati-based poet named Dana Ward. I bought Typing “Wild Speech” (available here) at a convocation for poets and poetry scholars I interned for at Miami University called PostMoot, and spent the next few days reading it. It’s a nice little chapbook about 30+ pages long. The depth of its feeling is amazing to me and the words beautiful to read.  Ward does such effective and honest work in drawing the reader in that each page feels like another hour spent catching up with an old friend. Each time I read it I cry at a different place, for reasons I’m not sure of. Maybe it’s the whole struggle of the piece in articulating and shouldering loss, maybe it’s something else. Reading it feels like watching someone you love cry and knowing that nothing painful ever truly goes away. Every time I read Typing “Wild Speech”, I think about how I want people to feel when they read my work, and how I want to feel while writing it.

I think that I’m learning that writing is more complicated than sitting in a room alone with a notebook and pen and a phrase you can’t get rid of, or a fixation on something unusual. It’s something I’ve known for awhile, but accepting how much work is involved in creating something you can be proud of is more difficult. And even though I’ve known all along that it would be hard, facing the actuality of it is somewhat of a harsh realization.

Alice

just how much reading am i expected to do?

Oh, a billion hours? PERFECT.

Today’s topic: Reading Lists and Reading Hours. To be completely honest, I don’t know what exactly either of these things mean, but I’m starting to get the idea that they mean that I have to do a lot of reading.

When you apply for grad school, unless of course you have friends who have taken that leap before you and told you all about it, nobody really tells you what you’re in for. Of course I heard things like, “it’s a lot more work than undergrad,” and, “you don’t take as many classes at a time but there’s more work,” or, “it’s a lot of work, but you can handle it.” Basically, the only thing I know to expect is a lot of work. What that would actually entail, was a mystery to me. Apparently, it means reading. A LOT of reading. In fact, you have to have a thing called a Reading List (which I am capitalizing because it sounds scary and important). From what I’ve gathered so far, a Reading List (spooky, scary!) is basically just a long list of things that you have to read during your time in the program, preferably sooner rather than later. Not so bad, right? The problem here is that the basic reading list that I was given as an example is over eight pages long.

This brings me to the topic of Reading Hours (mysterious!). It seems like Reading Hours would mean, well, hours where you are forced to sit and read. All I really know is that I have to carry 10 Reading Hours per week this semester, hopefully this will be a helpful time of reflective study. But for all I know it could mean that I have to stand on a chair and read the newspaper our loud.

Regardless of what Reading Hours are (I’ll find out in the next two weeks, luckily), both the Reading List (ooh, ahh) and the Reading Hours (quoi?) seem like they might be a pain… at first. While it might not really be fun of even enjoyable to sit in a room for at least 10 hours a week and read things that you might have no interest in, I think that overall it could be my favorite part of school. Think about it like you’d think about a jungle expedition. Sure, there are a lot of sticks and bugs and moss and gross things, things that might be confusing because dear god! What is that thing?!, but what better way to expand your own poetic practice than by reading things of all sorts? Even if it’s not your particular style or genre, it could affect you in ways that reading only your favorite things never could. And besides, what is writing about if not suffering for your craft? The answer is, lots of things. But who doesn’t like to play tortured artist sometimes?

And that’s I can muster today, folks. Happy trails!

Alice

eBooks: what are they and what are they doing to my books?

Today I had an adventure in the Apple store. I couldn’t help but play with an iPad on one of the massive displays at the center of the store. It’s true, the thing is impressive-looking and well-designed. They look cool, I admit it. But I can’t look at one without thinking about what it means for books. But I’m not just talking about the iPad here, I’m talking about the Kindle, the Nook, all of them.

With devices like these, companies are not only selling eBooks, but dipping their toes into the publishing world as well. But what does this mean for publishers? And what does it mean to us as consumers?

To be honest, it is hard to tell what it all means, at least in terms the future of publishing.  Amazon is reporting this month that it is now selling more Kindle books than hardcover books. However, as Dianna Dilworth points out in an article published on eBookNewser (found here), a digital publishing blog, “Amazon continues to dance around hard numbers, such as how many eBooks the company has sold or how many Kindles they have sold. Instead they share more elusive facts like for every 100 hardcovers sold, they sell 180 Kindle books.” Dilworth also remarks, “this is a slightly confusing metric, as it doesn’t say if the titles are available as paperbacks, eBooks, and hardcovers, or one of these various formats.” Basically, this comparison doesn’t really give a good idea of how many Kindle books vs. actual books are being sold.  However, as Ken Auletta points out in an article in the New Yorker, “Publishers’ real concern is that the low price of digital books will destroy bookstores, which are their primary customers. Burdened with rent and electricity and other costs, bricks-and-mortar stores are unlikely to offer prices that can compete with those of online venders.” The danger presented to publishing companies seems to come from lower prices and the possibility that eBook vendors like Amazon will give authors the opportunity to make more money by removing the publisher from the equation by giving the e-publishing rights directly to Kindle Books. However, according to Auletta, “Publishers maintain that digital companies don’t understand the creative process of books… Neither Amazon, Apple, nor Google has experience in recruiting, nurturing, editing, and marketing writers…The system is inefficient, but it supports a class of professional writers, which might not otherwise exist.” Publishers will need to make sure that authors continue to see them as a valuable part of the process as the size and power of ventures such as Kindle Books grow and are able to offer larger royalties by selling books at prices other publishers can’t afford.

The long and short of this part of the issue, says Auletta, is that “no matter where consumers buy books, their belief that electronic media should cost less—that something you can’t hold simply isn’t worth as much money—will exert a powerful force.” It seems to me that the best way for both internet-based companies and traditional publishing houses to succeed is to form partnerships that benefit both.

While all of this is very important to those who work in publishing, it doesn’t really seem to impact the consumer, does it? However, the eBook is actually making a difference in the way we experience books.  For example, Penguin as just released what they call an “amplified” edition of Ken Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth in conjunction with Starz.  Available on the iPad, this edition includes bonus features like an interactive character map, clips from the film adaptation, author commentary, and background information about the novel. Publishing companies themselves are beginning to offer enriched versions of books. I asked a friend of mine who works for one such company in New York what that really means, and she said that these versions are “not simply reformatted for convenience, but allow the reader the opportunity to streamline and immerse themselves in the world of the book in a way that is very compact. Instead of reading a book and then going online and googling it, you have what is essentially the equivalent of a laptop and the book open at the same time, right there in a convenient and (hopefully) stylish package.” She said that, at least some publishing companies, “aren’t selling eBooks as an alternative to a bound book—and there really is no substitute for the experience of holding a book in your hands—we’re selling them almost as DVD extras. They’re for fans who love the novel and want those bonus features.” That makes me feel more positive about the future of publishing in relation to the eBook. As long as publishing companies continue being able to offer the support needed by their authors and products we’re interested in at prices that allow them to stay in business, the eBook could actually beneficial to the publishing community as well as the reader.

But for me nothing can replace the experience of holding a book in your hand, dog-earing the pages, and writing notes in the margins. Having a hardcopy of a book you love is like having an old friend. Each time you read it you discover something new; the book ages with you, the pages yellow, the corners bend, and things get spilled on it. I can’t tell you how many books I’ve read that belonged to family members of mine first and survived in their backpacks through their high school days as well as mine. Reading them wasn’t just reading a book, it was sharing an experience across time. The history and individuality gained by a physical book cannot be replicated by an eBook, and neither can the sound of turning pages or the smell that book lovers can’t resist.

However, the benefits of an eBook cannot be denied. Comparing the two things is really comparing apples and oranges, because they are completely different experiences. Though I’m not going to rush out and buy an iPad or Kindle, I can understand why people like them. And though the growing nature of the eBook market might cause publishing as we know it to change, from what I gather, it doesn’t seem like it’s quite time to work ourselves into a panic and start hiding our books in bomb shelters.

an explanation.

Dear Reader,

Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a writer. People like my parents, teachers, and friends have encouraged me in various ways and so when I got to college I added Creative Writing to my, as I saw it then, more practical Lit Major and got to work. I started working with the on-campus lit mag, taking workshop classes, and poking around in books of poetry. In my Junior year it became time to start thinking about grad school and I ended up in a BA/MA combined program. Now, as I start my Senior/first year of grad school, I find myself staring at the future with a big “What The Fuck?” look on my face.

What I’m saying is, there’s a lot of stuff out there and it’s all really fraggin’ confusing. There are a lot of questions I have about what I’m getting into and nobody seems to be offering up answers. I’m not promising that I’ll be able to answer any questions for other people looking at the world of grad school, publishing, literary magazines, getting published in literary magazines, or the like; but what I do figure out, I’d like to share. I know there are hoardes of us out there, just getting our feet wet, looking wide-eyed and dewy in a world with no guide-book, so I figure, when I find out anything interesting or useful, why not let other people know about it?

Actual posts about actual interesting things to come!

Alice

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