The End...

We finish blogging with a final post about The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. This will be the last blog in the last week of class of my last year of college. It's a week of a lot of "lasts", and yet as cliche as it sounds, I know this ending is really a beginning. I'm moving to Nashville to start a new life there, and I'm excited, though nervous at the same time. Aren't these the same emotions the characters in the books experienced as they "grew up"? It's the tension of closing a door on childhood and opening one into adulthood, all part of the process we've labeled "coming of age", and it's time to continue this process in my own life.

The Alchemist is a good novel to end on, and I say that not because I adore it like so many others seem to. Maybe that's part of the reason I don't like it: I want to go against the bandwagon; the novel receives such high acclaim that I become suspicious. What I do mean is that it is good to end on because it is so obviously a bildungsroman, with the idea of the personal legend so closely tied to coming of age. As we talked about in class, childhood is, in so many ways, about innocence and dreaming. At that point in life, we lack the ability to see the big picture and to know what we're called to do, so we latch on to what looks nice and fun. There must be a process of bridging the gap between this innocence in order to cross into informed, productive adulthood. The tension is in finding a balance: continuing to dream big, while applying the tools we've learned along the way in order to do so. Santiago's journey to find himself and his purpose mark in a simple but profound way the process that I've been caught up in and that we've been describing all semester.

Weird

I tried to think of a way to positively write about The Alchemist, but the truth is I don't really like this book. While it's interesting and has a good mix of adventure, romance, contemplation, etc., I can't get past the weirdness of the language. All the talk of the "Soul of the World" and the "Language of the World" is too new-agey for me, and it bugs me that Paulo Coehlo mixes biblical truths with that stuff and other religious jargon. He gives the side dishes of the gospel without the main course, Jesus, and that's just no good. I'm so sick of the postmodern "tolerance gospel" that seems to aim at keeping people comfortable rather than leading them to God and changing them into His image. Yeah, that's all I have to say. Maybe I'll have a change of heart after talking about it in class, but right now, I don't really like it.

Journey of growing up

The House on Mango Street is another easy one to point to as a bildungsroman novel. By giving us a snapshot of Esperanza's life in a pivotal year for her, we see the beginning of a process for her to change from a little girl to a young woman. She must confront certain realities in new ways: death, love and sexuality, friendship, family life, the workplace. She also gains a new perspective for her own life and her community, realizing the ways she is held down and stimulating a desire to leave the place she's in. I love her determination to break the cycle and go on, and the book illustrates how important it is that parents allow their children to "fly free," as we talked about last class. Through both good and bad experiences, we see the journey of growing up Esperanza is on, and though we're left to wonder what happens, the glimpses given are enough to highlight important aspects of that journey, for her and for all of us.

Kin to Esperanza

Harry Potter, Huck Finn, Lucy Honeychurch, Janie, Isaac, Paul Berlin, Pi. Of these characters, who relates most to Esperanza in The House on Mango Street? It's difficult to say, since there are similarities among many of them, but after thinking about it, I'm going to still say Janie from Their Eyes Were Watching God. As we discussed in class, there are ways that these two respond very differently to the oppression they experience as minority women, but I have a hard time putting Esperanza with someone who hasn't experienced that shame and the struggle to get free of it. It colors someone's life so drastically that it's hard to — and really, I wouldn't want to — separate it out in order to compare with someone like Lucy Honeychurch, from a wealthier family and society. Both Janie and Esperanza look to defy social standards in their own ways and to find true happiness, not just settle for what others expect of them. Janie does this by searching for true love in a husband, Esperanza by rejecting the abusive men in her culture and choosing independence. Because of these similarities in overcoming challenges of race and gender discrimination, I choose Janie as Esperanza's "closest kin."

Poor Minority Women

A major theme in The House on Mango Street is oppression, whether among the poor, the minorities or women. As in Their Eyes Were Watching God, the ones who fit all three categories have little hope. Rafaela isn't allowed to come out because her husband deems her too beautiful. Sally, also because of beauty, is beaten and held back from her dreams. These two women (and others in the story) represent two generations, showing the cycle of oppression in this culture. It's a heartbreaking reality. Esperanza dreams of leaving it all behind, but how realistic is that dream? She allows seems to have harden her heart toward all men because so much of the oppression for women comes from the men in their lives. But can she keep her distance — and her independence — forever?

Dr. Osler

By the way, the little "speech" you gave to class at the end of our last discussion was beautiful and inspiring. I really appreciated you taking us back to what you called a "superficial" look at the novel. Maybe it is superficial but I do not think it is unimportant in the least! It blessed me; I needed to be reminded to be more optimistic. So thanks. :)

Yes, but so much more, too

A bildungsroman, I've concluded, is rarely just a coming-of-age novel. Perhaps sometimes it is so focused on a character's development and maturity that this is the case, but I believe in all the books we've read so far, they've had so much more to them. Life of Pi especially is about faith, the need for love, survival, animal-human relationships, etc. I almost concluded that it wasn't a bildungsroman for this reason, but I decided that it still is because it focuses so exclusively on the one character, Pi, and of course a young boy who wages for his life at sea for 227 days is going to change drastically. However, this is only part of a wonderful story that has so much to offer in so many ways.

I want to be in on the Better Story

First of all, let me say that I love how Yann Martel writes: the flow of his language, the use of just enough imagery (but not too much so as to become flowery) , his down-to-earth voice that's still lofty enough to respect. I found a series of short stories by him at Hastings for less than a dollar one time and immediately bought it. Someone greatly under-appreciates this man's work and skill as a writer. For anyone interested, the short story compilation is called The Facts Behind the Helsinki Roccamatios.

The passage in Chapter 22 well illustrates the beauty of Martel's writing. I also love the three-word phrase he uses at the end: the better story. The short chapter describes Pi's imagining of the death of an atheist and the death of an agnostic. While I do not esteem atheists to the same degree Pi does because I believe everyone should believe in God and can love Jesus, I do still respect them more than the agnostic; the description of an agnostic's reasoning as "dry, yeast-less factuality" is fitting, indeed. And that three-word phrase, the better story, signifies that there is something to live for in this life, something worth our efforts and time, fitting of the term "better." He refers to the life of faith; I have tasted of it, but I want to see much more than I have what it really means to live for it.  

One Road

When I first read this book two summers ago, I was reading part of it to a 14-year-old boy as we sat on the playground. There wasn't much going on, so he asked me to read aloud. I was at the part where Piscine is exploring all the different religions, and as I read, I could tell that my friend, who had grown up in a pretty sheltered Christian environment, was uncomfortable. I stopped, and as we talked, he was wrestling with the way it seemed the author believed all roads lead to God. I told him that I also did not like this viewpoint but that I was still able to read the book and enjoy it, even though I didn't agree. I realized that day that a 14-year-old is not mature enough to read critically in this way.

If all roads lead to God and Piscine can expect to choose any one or a combination of them all, then Jesus' work on the cross is nullified, His resurrection has no meaning, and we can have no confidence in the faith we profess.

Going After Cacciato, a Bildungsroman

Yes, I believe Going After Cacciato is a Bildungsroman, because Paul Berlin is on a journey to "find himself," to grow up, to come to terms with a reality he before was scared to death of. I hesitated to answer this way because in some ways, it doesn't seem like our main character changes that much; the book ends with him wetting his pants in fear of what he's had to do in the war. Yet, I have to say he has still grown and changed, and enough to call the book a bildungsroman. One instance that shows this change is when he is, at the end of the book, given the opportunity to leave by Oscar Murphy and he doesn't. Oscar challenges him, tells him he doesn't think he can or should do it, but Paul Berlin stays. Sure, he still wets his pants, but he stayed and fought, without escaping even by means of imagination.

War is reality.

I felt that when hearing from Dr. O'Brien yesterday. It's messy and scary, but it's very very real and in some ways, a necessary condition of human existence, though an ugly one. I really liked how O'Brien explained that since man's sin nature is at a state of hatred toward one another so that, unless everyone becomes a Christian, there will always be war. It reminds me of Thomas Hobbes' description of the natural state of man. I found this quote: "Man is a wolf to other men." Though this truth is so ugly, it's so true. Hobbes argued that this is why we need government, in order to tame us. However, I believe that even in our civilized state, we still are willing to cheat and antagonize others if it means it'll benefit ourselves. This is why I agree with O'Brien and disagree with Hobbes, ultimately. Though we are at a state of war naturally, it's not just civilization and government that we need but Christ and His love that can transform us and allow us to love selflessly in return. It is obvious that O'Brien has been changed in this way, as evidenced by his humility coupled with gentle confidence. I really enjoyed hearing him speak, so thanks for inviting him. 

Like it more than I thought

I don't usually like books or even movies about war, but as it says the New York Times said about this book, "To call Going After Cacciato a novel about war is like calling Moby-Dick a novel about whales." The main character, Paul Berlin, is easy to relate to even as he is in situations I've never been in and probably never will be in. He is introspective and down-to-earth, and his commentary on situations is simple but vivid in detail and emotion at the same time. I also find it highly impressive when an author can switch between time frames from chapter to chapter and it still make sense. Tim O'Brien does a good job establishing the main story line and characters, alluding to other situations, then switching to those scenarios in present tense. His mix of reality and fantasy is seamless, and this shows the nature of war to produce a surreal environment at times. The way this novel is written really does make it, as the cliche goes, "a page-turner," and while we think we know what's going on at times, there are hidden surprises along the way that make us as the readers realize we can't have everything figured out yet. 

For one thing, I'm so off on my blogs! Sorry...

And another thing, I've thought longest about whether The Violent Bear It Away is a bildungsroman than most of the other novels. I've concluded it is, though it is vastly different than all of the others. The grotesqueness of the story forces readers to look beyond the surface level to see whether young Tarwater comes of age. Though I don't like the thing he becomes or the way he becomes it, he has changed remarkably. Because he returns to where the story begins, it could seem as though he has gone full circle. However, his return marks a change because he left not able to stand the place and with the desire to run far away from the things he experienced there. He thought he could go to Rayber, but then he was haunted by Old Tarwater all the more and strained by Rayber's efforts to change him. Though now more mentally ill than before, he has discovered that for him, he has no other place to go, no other thing to become than the prophet his great-uncle foretold. It is perhaps for the reader's benefit that the story stops where it is, for what Francis will become is frightening. On the other hand, maybe it would have been better for O'Connor to tell us: Our imaginations can only go to the extreme worst with the framework given. 

Natural Beauty in the Wilderness

While we talked about wilderness in class, I argued that there can still be some of the same aspects of adventure, risk, and feelings of smallness in the big city. This was my experience, as a Texas girl in New York City, this summer. I know there must be a difference. There is something different, a different side to us, that yearns for something beyond the city. I mulled over this later and decided natural beauty and lack of constraints are the biggest differences between city and wilderness. Natural beauty calls us to reflect and breathe deep, and this cannot really be found in cities formed by slabs of cement, no matter how many flowers and trees you plant. And while you can feel small in a city filled with millions of people and very tall buildings, it still does not compare to the insignificance experienced at the base of a mountain or at the edge of the ocean. To know these things were not created by man — and never could be — stirs awe and wonder, and a part of us comes alive at the thought of it, I believe.

Sexual power

I was quite taken aback at the suddenness and the strength of the scene in Faulkner's The Bear where Isaac's wife uses her body and sexual appeal to hold power over her husband. She is upset because he will not accept the inheritance and the farm that is rightfully his, so she undresses before him, lies down, gives him a taste of what she offers (to say it nicely) then says she will never do it again unless he takes the farm. He refuses. She turns over and laughs. 

This is powerful. It makes quite a statement about the seductive abilities of women. The wife acts very manipulatively, and yet, she doesn't get what she wants. It is almost scary to me, honestly. The part when she laughs brings up the biblical allusion to Sarah and Abraham again, since in the story she laughs at God's promise to her to have a child. What is the promise here? How will things go for this woman? We do not know, in the end, but it doesn't seem very hopeful.

A Little Different, but Yes

When considering whether Their Eyes Were Watching God (now one of my new favorite books, by the way) is a bildungsroman, I realize it's a little different from the other books we have read so far.  The others focus more on isolated time periods in the main character's life, especially the transition from childhood to adulthood. Their Eyes, however, chronicles all of Janie's life. It is not just a "coming of age" novel but a whole life story about maturity and growth, in the midst of hardship and varying circumstances. I like this about the book: it increases the classical nature of the book because so many people can relate to Janie (and even the other characters) because of the different periods of life she goes through. I still think this is a bildungsroman, but it is also so much more. This aspect emphasizes the fact that all of life is about growth; it's always a journey through life's obstacles and joys. We are never stagnant. 

Some defining moments for Janie include each of her different marriages as well as the times she or he leaves (leaving Logan's farm, Jody's death and Tea Cake's death). Outside of these obvious ones, I think her moment under the pear tree is an awakening of dreams inside her and the moment we looked at in class, when she realizes her inner self and her broken dreams, is also a major turning point for Janie. 

What's in a Title?

First of all, I want to say that my last blog was a little off, I think. In class we discussed that Zora Neale Hurston gives depth to all her characters, not just the main one, and I agree with that. I think she shows more depth in the men than I gave her credit for. For instance, she builds sympathy for Jody by showing his fear of getting older, and even though it creates pity more than love for him, we see his human nature and not just this chauvinistic man suppressing his wife. 

As to the title of the book, I love it. It's beautiful and unique. Before I'd read the book, I was drawn to it. It forces the questions, "Why were their eyes watching God?" and "What did they see as they watched God?" I even think, "How did they watch God, the powerful and Almighty in heaven?" 

We get a glimpse of what the title means when Janie and Tea Cake are fighting for their lives in the midst of the hurricane. The scene shows their vulnerability to forces beyond themselves; all they can do is hope that the God who is causing such a powerful stirring in nature will spare them. They watch to see what he will do because it's all they can do in the midst of their situation. The implication for the whole book, then, is that Janie and the others are living their lives with an awareness that so much of their stories are out of their control, yet there is a flow to them that must be caused by something bigger than themselves, which, perhaps, is God. It goes along with the context of the book, since African Americans are known for having rich spiritual heritages.

Men: You Can't Live with 'Em, You Can't Live Without 'Em

An interesting aspect in Their Eyes Were Watching God is the way men are portrayed throughout the story. The different husbands (and some others) in Janie's life are cast in such a way as to compare with one another. 

There is Logan Killicks, who is unlovable, stiff and unable to satisfy his wife. He seems to live out of duty, not love, and this can never sustain a relationship. Then there's Joe Starks, who is first portrayed as exciting, respectable and loving. Then, as his true colors show through, he is shown as an insensitive power-monger who treats Janie as less than and enslaves her to his store. Finally, there is Tea Cake, who tops them all. Despite his poverty, he adores Janie, invites her into an adventurous lifestyle and is willing to sacrifice anything for her sake. Janie finally finds true love and a real man in the end. One other man worth noting is Mr. Turner, who is portrayed as weak and powerless to stand up to his wife and also to defend her. The scene where he sits down in the middle of the fight, while his wife gets trampled on, is contrasted with Tea Cake's valor as he defends Janie against the mad dog in the hurricane.

No Question About It

A Room With A View is definitely a bildungsroman. E.M. Forster's book focuses extensively on one character, Lucy, and the way she changes through different life circumstances: travel, adventure, hardship, death, love, relationships with family and friends, etc. There are few scenes that do not focus on Lucy specifically; even is she is not present, the conversation and events still involve her. From the beginning of the book to the end we see major growth in her. 

At the beginning of the book, I assumed Lucy was much younger than she actually is. She acts that way and is treated that way. There is always something different about her -- something that's forcing her outside of the box of English social conventions -- but she is first presented as a somewhat eccentric, though beloved, child. The second half of the book presents her clearly as a woman of marriageable age who is taking steps to become fully herself and to grow up. Her defiance to her family's ways and to Cecil's attempts to control her show independence and strength of character. I consider the scene in the square where the man dies in front of her and the scene where she breaks off her engagement as the most obvious turning points for her.

I Can Hear the Bells: Lucy Gets Married

One thing I am glad to see as we continue through our reading list of Bildungsroman literature is a book that deals with falling in love as a part of coming of age. While Harry Potter deals with this a little, it's not really central to his growing up process (at least in Book 7), and Huck Finn doesn't deal with this at all. This is central to Lucy's process, though, in A Room With A View.

When Lucy breaks off the engagement with Cecil, it's almost like you can hear a collective sigh of relief from the reading audience.  He's so not right for her. She is colorful and coming alive outside of English social conventions, while he is stuffy and pretentious. George, on the other hand, has boldly shown his affection — twice by this point — and Lucy finally comes to her senses. This is the life she wants, regardless of what others think: true love that takes her back to Florence and into adventure. She couldn't have Cecil and a room with the view. George can give her that, though, just as he and his father did at the beginning of the book.

Why the title A Room With A View?

While reading A Room With A View, I kept wondering why the book was titled that. Obviously, the name connects with the first scene, which is the first interaction between Lucy and George Emerson. George and his father give up their "room with a view" for Lucy and her cousin Charlotte. Throughout the novel, views of various sorts are described in great detail, as an essential part of the play's setting and storyline. As the scene changes from Italy back to England, different views are described. 

However, the meaning goes much deeper, as implied when Lucy discusses people as either having a view or not, as a signifier of the individual's openness to life and his or her appreciation for its beauty. The title could also be a metaphor for the kind of life Lucy wants. She is not satisfied with the stuffy, pretentious life with Cecil. She wants the beautiful before her, the wide open fields of violets, and this, to her, is George Emerson. Life with him is "a room with a view," and the end of the book effectively shows this, as well.

Huckleberry Finn: Growing Up

In Mark Twain's masterpiece, Huckleberry Finn sets out on an adventure that will mark him for life. Two events stand out to me as sure evidence that this is a bildungsroman, that Huck changed and the central story focused on his coming of age. The first is when he decides not to write to the widow and tell her about Jim. He decides he'd rather go to hell than betray the "nigger" who has become his friend. He shows himself more mature than most people around him because he defies social standards and, in his eyes, risks even his own eternal salvation for the sake of someone else. The other scene is when Huck tells Mary Jane about the duke and king's plan. The longer he stayed with those two lying thieves, the longer he prolonged his own maturity. When he finally stood up for what was right, he looked to the interest of the sisters more than to his own interests, which evidences a certain maturity. 

It should be noted that Huck's adventure is not a thrill ride just for the fun of it. That is Tom Sawyer's way, but Huck is simpler at heart and more laid back. His adventure is somewhat unavoidable because of the tough circumstances he found himself in with Pap.  While Huck had to choose to mature through many other decisions throughout the story, he's originally set out because otherwise he would stay in the cabin with his drunkard dad and be beaten and locked in, for who knows how long. It seems almost anyone would have escaped somehow. Yet the decisions down the line show a definite change of character.

Huck's Maturity in Loyalty to Jim

One thing that’s interesting about Huck and Jim’s relationship is that while Jim can freely give his love and express great gratitude to Huck for helping him, Huck wrestles consistently with his relationship with Jim because of social standards around him. The scene where Huck almost betrays Jim to the boatmen illustrates this struggle: After feeling like he can finally turn him in and thinking it will actually bring him peace to do so, Huck cannot bring himself to do it. He lies, saying his family is on the raft sick with small pox. There is something in Huck, which really is unexplainable, that ties him to Jim. Everything and pretty much everyone else around him would say he is in the wrong for helping a slave, but he has a sense of justice that he sticks with even when he thinks it will damn him to hell. That is loyalty if I’ve ever seen it, and it’s awfully mature. 

Huckleberry Finn: Forced to Grow Up

In the first chapters of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, we see Huck dealing with his drunk, abusing father, who comes back while Huck is living with the widow. This part of Huck’s story shows one reason why he is able to — why he has had to — grow up. His father acts like the child most of the time, so Huck must care for him and find ways to protect himself. It’s ironic and sad: a father, the one who is supposed to defend his child, forces the child to defend himself from him. In order to do so, Huck must built endurance and employ creativity, as we see with his escape from the cabin. It’s also an incredible feat for him to be able to live his life as he chooses even when his father spites him for becoming “better than” the rest of the family.

Harry Potter: A Bildungsroman?

I find myself wrestling with whether or not Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, or the whole series, is a coming-of-age novel, a bildungsroman. As discussed in class, Harry definitely changes, and since he is a young character, he is maturing into adulthood. However, this could be a hero legend, where a central character must undergo a difficult task in order to save someone or even an entire community; it could be this and no more, though it may contain elements of the bildungsroman. 

 

However, I conclude that J.K. Rowling's story can rightly be classified as a contemporary bildungsroman. Yes, Harry is a hero, but I believe his process of growing up is central to the action and the message of the books. His changes are significant enough to constitute the kind of changes required in a bildungsroman character. He chooses his own death, for goodness sake! Throughout the series, Harry goes from a young and uneducated wizard to a skilled one, who carries the fate of his world on his shoulders. He is entrusted by Dumbledore with an incredible task, and though he makes mistakes and hesitates at times, in the end, Harry rises to the occasion. One aspect of a bildungsroman story is its ability to mediate between the individual and his community, as Tobias Boes states as he analyzes the early fiction of Joseph Conrad as bildungsroman material. Because Harry is ultimately the only one who can kill Lord Voldemort and restore all that the powers of dark magic have stolen from the world of wizardry, he must mediate between himself and his community, and he does this by offering himself to die for this cause. 

I Heart Hermione

Harry's close friend, who he considers close enough to be a sister, is a loveable character, for sure. I relate to her in several ways: She's a little nerdy, with her wealth of knowledge and love for learning, yet she's personable, bold and soft-hearted, as well. (I think she has more courages and common sense than I do, though.) While it's not surprising to find her crying, how many times does she save Harry or conjure up just the right spell at just the right time? That takes guts, and I like it. Ron leaves; she stays. She’s committed and loyal to the cause, desperate for a part to play, even when it’s a difficult task.

 

Despite Hermione’s evident strength, though, she needs the people around her as much as all the other characters do. (I think the book as a whole beautifully illustrates the necessity of community, both family and friends). She battles about her emotions for Ron at times, but then when he leaves, she is heartbroken and torn. I love that they end up together in the end. They balance each other well.

Role Models: Dumbledore, Sirius and Harry's Parents

As I've read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I've noticed how much Harry relies on memories of those he's most admired. The strongest influences in his life have come from Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black and his parents, Lily and James Potter.

Harry's parents' role plays out in his memories and the things he hears about them from others. Since they died when he was young, he remembers little about them and was not at an age to receive much knowledge from them. However, it is obvious he's been told great things about them because of his deep respect and affection for people he never even really knew. It seems their memory pushes him forward during some difficult times. 

Sirius Black had longer to instruct and love Harry, and he became more than just a godfather -- a trusted friend and adviser, as well. Loved by his parents, it is easy for Harry to quickly love and trust him, too, and his instructions become invaluable during Harry's journey.

Lastly, Albus Dumbledore, Harry's beloved headmaster, took special interest in him while at Hogwarts, teaching him personably because of the role he knew Harry would play in Wizard history. Seen almost as all-wise and -intelligent at times, Harry also receives instruction easily from him. It is interesting, however, that in the last book, his reputation becomes questioned. This is a curious aspect of a bildungsroman story: what happens when a role model's past (or lies about his past) come out? How does he overcome this?

Another interesting aspect is the fact that all Harry's role models are in fact dead now. What does it mean for him to journey without them? Maybe that is a key part of his coming of age: the time when he must figure things out completely on his own, only drawing on things once told him.