Both the book's introduction and its reputation dominated my reading for the first 70 pages. The tone of the book, a sort of--maybe I had epilepsy, maybe I didn't, or maybe I did--detracted from the story. Slater describes her memoir as "impish" and that's exactly how it felt. The dictionary definition of impish is--"naughtily or annoyingly playful" and this descriptor seemed for the first third of the book an accurate description--annoying and unnecessarily playful.
Slater overemphasizes the notion that her epilepsy is possibly fiction. She seems to care so much what the reader thinks, as on page 56, "I still loved my mother, understand that, please." She goes so far as to address the reader in second person; she pleads with us to understand. Slater also refuses to suspend disbelief, refuses to re-imagine scenes from her past and present them as truth. As on page 23, "I'd say she smiled then," she self-consciously reminds the reader that she is in fact imagining her past. This is redundant in that she is writing a memoir. Pointing out that she's imagining didn't seem interesting enough to point out in such a specific way. It struck me as an unnecessary reminder that memoir is in some ways fiction. Her continual noting of this took away from her story, as though the author is concerned that her memoir won't be noteworthy unless it continually emphasizes this focus on truth-telling. It strikes me as a self-conscious tic that takes away from her story.
But what kept me going were her one-liners:
-"...the kind of sky they show in decongestant commercials" (34)
-"...an illness so existential, so oddly spiritual, you are stuck out in the stratosphere with Sartre and Kierkegaard, with dead dogs and owls" (34).
-"This, this is the happy part of my story, which does not mean I was happy" (55)
-"In there, girls leaned toward the mirrors, fell into their faces' reflections like it was love, like it was hate, snapping open clam-shaped compact cases and patching up their oily skin" (65)
-"A home has many purposes, but it should primarily be a place where you can cry and run a good fever" (70)
....And on and on.....
At page 88, the book became weightier, less an exercise in truth telling than a real narrative. "...I ask you to please consider this--perhaps Munchausen's is all I ever had. Perhaps I was, and still am, a pretender, a person who creates illnesses because she needs time, attention, touch, because she knows no other way of telling her life's tale." It is at this point that Slater becomes vulnerable. She suggests that she's not being impish on purpose, that it is quite possible that she too has confused fact and fiction.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Response to Marjane Satrapi Lecture
How enjoyable it was to attend an event but be responsible neither for performing nor organizing--I attend a lot of events as a singer and public relations lady, but it's so seldom that I go to an event I'm not required to. What a different experience. I feeling a need to do this more. It's hard to take in a concert or lecture when you're eager for it to be over so you can clean up the artist's dressing room and go home.
Perhaps something that's just been on my mind and I'm projecting, but it was striking to me how comfortable Satrapi was in her own skin. I've been exploring the idea of taking up space--both in terms of women in general and in terms of my own unwillingness to claim a physical space for myself. In college, I considered doing a senior thesis on this issue, using Woolf's A Room of One's Own and Wharton's House of Mirth but it got too big and I'm not sure I was ready for such an expansive project. Instead I edited a collection of critical and personal essays for an introduction to women's studies course, which was the absolute right choice at the time and of which I'm proud. But I'm thinking again about this topic...
I was also intrigued by Satrapi's talk of fanaticism, that really this is what causes conflict around the world. Muslim fanatics have so much in common with Christian fanatics. I have respect for those who are thoughtful and patient on all sides of the political/religious spectrum. What angers me is when people take the word of their political or religious leaders at face value and don't think critically about what's being presented. (This issue makes me see the importance of the liberal arts--teaching one to think critically!)
Satrapi noted that fanaticism works by manipulating followers' emotions--something I've been thinking about and was glad to hear articulated. And this issue is what I see as the biggest difference between a president like George W. Bush and a president like Barack Obama. I don't think that Bush is malicious, he was just lazy. He relied on his advisers to explain policies to him and if they sounded like a good idea he said yes. I think of a program like No Child Left Behind which according to my teacher friends has been a nightmare that made them teach to tests more than ever before, but it sounds like a good idea. I see Bush in the Oval Office thinking, "No child should be left behind. Great policy," without going further and researching exactly what the impact of the program will be.
She thanked us, as Americans, for Obama, and pointed out that the leader of such a powerful country as the United States really becomes the leader of the world and perhaps we should hold a global election! How complicated would that be...but interesting thought.
Also interesting was during the Q&A portion of the lecture when Satrapi said as a sort of aside that she thought that had the Shah not been overthrown in a revolutionary fashion, she thinks that Iran would have evolved into a democracy in much the same way that India has.
Perhaps something that's just been on my mind and I'm projecting, but it was striking to me how comfortable Satrapi was in her own skin. I've been exploring the idea of taking up space--both in terms of women in general and in terms of my own unwillingness to claim a physical space for myself. In college, I considered doing a senior thesis on this issue, using Woolf's A Room of One's Own and Wharton's House of Mirth but it got too big and I'm not sure I was ready for such an expansive project. Instead I edited a collection of critical and personal essays for an introduction to women's studies course, which was the absolute right choice at the time and of which I'm proud. But I'm thinking again about this topic...
I was also intrigued by Satrapi's talk of fanaticism, that really this is what causes conflict around the world. Muslim fanatics have so much in common with Christian fanatics. I have respect for those who are thoughtful and patient on all sides of the political/religious spectrum. What angers me is when people take the word of their political or religious leaders at face value and don't think critically about what's being presented. (This issue makes me see the importance of the liberal arts--teaching one to think critically!)
Satrapi noted that fanaticism works by manipulating followers' emotions--something I've been thinking about and was glad to hear articulated. And this issue is what I see as the biggest difference between a president like George W. Bush and a president like Barack Obama. I don't think that Bush is malicious, he was just lazy. He relied on his advisers to explain policies to him and if they sounded like a good idea he said yes. I think of a program like No Child Left Behind which according to my teacher friends has been a nightmare that made them teach to tests more than ever before, but it sounds like a good idea. I see Bush in the Oval Office thinking, "No child should be left behind. Great policy," without going further and researching exactly what the impact of the program will be.
She thanked us, as Americans, for Obama, and pointed out that the leader of such a powerful country as the United States really becomes the leader of the world and perhaps we should hold a global election! How complicated would that be...but interesting thought.
Also interesting was during the Q&A portion of the lecture when Satrapi said as a sort of aside that she thought that had the Shah not been overthrown in a revolutionary fashion, she thinks that Iran would have evolved into a democracy in much the same way that India has.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
SXSW Part I
I was in Austin, TX last week, performing at South by Southwest. SXSW is the biggest music festival in the U.S. It reminded me a little of Disney World, and a lot of the church youth conventions I went to when I was in high school. We stayed at a hotel outside downtown and had to take a shuttle back and forth.
I gave up trying to look cool after the first day--I ended up carrying a large backpack filled with an odd assortment of items--Benadryl, Water Babies brand SPF 50 sunscreen, and a sports bra that I'd put on after seven hours of wearing a regular bra. I brought a collection of impractical shoes to go with my dressier shirts but after the first two days my feet were covered in bright white blisters. Then I discovered an Asics booth in which they were giving away free tennis shoes to showcasing artists. So, I got some and proceeded to wear them with my fancy shirts. I felt silly but much more comfortable.
My boyfriend Erik is also my guitar player. We are both a little awkward, emotional and damaged. Erik wears torn up jeans and old shirts from bands he's been in. He recently cut off his beard, but never got around to actually shaving. It's an odd length--sort of a 7 o'clock shadow. We both dress a like grunge is still in fashion. We looked like Eddie Vedder and My So Called Life era Claire Danes as we walked down the streets of Austin.
The rest of our band went to show after show, even the big ones--Erykah Badu, PJ Harvey, Echo and the Bunnymen. Erik and I are terrified of crowds and went instead to a series of post-rock classical shows that were not crowded at all. Most of the shows were at the same venue, the one we'd played at the night before.
We went back to our hotel early most nights, provided that we could find a cab. We are both terrible at hailing cabs. We would take turns holding our hands up feebly in the direction of passing yellow cabs and it would take at least three tries to get one to stop.
Erik and I often feel like a pair of misfits. We're both a bit damaged but we always figure things out, and we're supportive of each other as we do. Erik is stable in his own way. His is also loyal and kind and loves me fiercely. But on the way home it was another of our band members who got into a terrible fight with his wife over the phone. A fight so awful that we stopped in Memphis and rented our own car while he drove the rest of the way home in a panic. And he was the one who seemed most stable. He is stunningly capable, has three children, and a wife who is also an artist.
When we got home from the trip Erik and I laid together on the couch and I said, "It's funny--we're such misfits, but in the end we have the most stable relationship." And he agreed and we snuggled in to watch an episode of Paranormal State in which undergrads from Penn State investigate ghost sightings. We speculated as to which "paranormal investigators" were sleeping with each other and laughed while our little black cat crawled onto Erik's chest and promptly fell asleep.
(I will write many more posts on this trip...I have much to say).
I gave up trying to look cool after the first day--I ended up carrying a large backpack filled with an odd assortment of items--Benadryl, Water Babies brand SPF 50 sunscreen, and a sports bra that I'd put on after seven hours of wearing a regular bra. I brought a collection of impractical shoes to go with my dressier shirts but after the first two days my feet were covered in bright white blisters. Then I discovered an Asics booth in which they were giving away free tennis shoes to showcasing artists. So, I got some and proceeded to wear them with my fancy shirts. I felt silly but much more comfortable.
My boyfriend Erik is also my guitar player. We are both a little awkward, emotional and damaged. Erik wears torn up jeans and old shirts from bands he's been in. He recently cut off his beard, but never got around to actually shaving. It's an odd length--sort of a 7 o'clock shadow. We both dress a like grunge is still in fashion. We looked like Eddie Vedder and My So Called Life era Claire Danes as we walked down the streets of Austin.
The rest of our band went to show after show, even the big ones--Erykah Badu, PJ Harvey, Echo and the Bunnymen. Erik and I are terrified of crowds and went instead to a series of post-rock classical shows that were not crowded at all. Most of the shows were at the same venue, the one we'd played at the night before.
We went back to our hotel early most nights, provided that we could find a cab. We are both terrible at hailing cabs. We would take turns holding our hands up feebly in the direction of passing yellow cabs and it would take at least three tries to get one to stop.
Erik and I often feel like a pair of misfits. We're both a bit damaged but we always figure things out, and we're supportive of each other as we do. Erik is stable in his own way. His is also loyal and kind and loves me fiercely. But on the way home it was another of our band members who got into a terrible fight with his wife over the phone. A fight so awful that we stopped in Memphis and rented our own car while he drove the rest of the way home in a panic. And he was the one who seemed most stable. He is stunningly capable, has three children, and a wife who is also an artist.
When we got home from the trip Erik and I laid together on the couch and I said, "It's funny--we're such misfits, but in the end we have the most stable relationship." And he agreed and we snuggled in to watch an episode of Paranormal State in which undergrads from Penn State investigate ghost sightings. We speculated as to which "paranormal investigators" were sleeping with each other and laughed while our little black cat crawled onto Erik's chest and promptly fell asleep.
(I will write many more posts on this trip...I have much to say).
Response to The Country of Language
It took me a bit to get into this book. It was such a short piece and didn't have the clearest thesis. I had hoped that it would be more about his coming to writing and teaching, but the first two thirds felt more like a brief summary of his life prior to the age of 25. The book was definitely too short to be both a memoir and an in depth reflection on the importance of writing and literature. The memoir felt so brief, just scraping the surface, which made him seem like such a boring character... He briefly mentions his father's alcoholism, but overall he comes across as such a bland person. And this is quite possibly a matter of taste--I'm not particularly interested in the writing of happy, well-adjusted writers...
It wasn't until page 76 that it began to get interesting and become more clearly about teaching when he's in the classroom:
"No wonder literature's so confusing," someone said.
"Just like life," another student remarked.
"Just like Life," I agreed, "only books hold still so we can look at them."
This is an interesting sentiment I hadn't thought of previously. Also on page 75 he talks about his first experience teaching and he says, "I feared silence in the classroom, feared the students' boredom or indifference...In defense, I filled the air with nervous talk."
How familiar that feels...
It wasn't until page 76 that it began to get interesting and become more clearly about teaching when he's in the classroom:
"No wonder literature's so confusing," someone said.
"Just like life," another student remarked.
"Just like Life," I agreed, "only books hold still so we can look at them."
This is an interesting sentiment I hadn't thought of previously. Also on page 75 he talks about his first experience teaching and he says, "I feared silence in the classroom, feared the students' boredom or indifference...In defense, I filled the air with nervous talk."
How familiar that feels...
Friday, March 13, 2009
Response to Persepolis
What I found most striking about Persepolis was the way in which it emphasizes the nature of Iran before the Islamic revolution. I don't want to admit this because it makes me sound ignorant, but I didn't know that Iran's Islamic government came to power as recently as 1978. I'd seen photos of women in veils and had assumed it had always been this way. We (I) have a tendency to think of cultural evolution as moving on a direct path--from conservative to progressive. I didn't realize what a back-track it had been. Maryam posted a quote from Satrapi on her blog:
"If you notice I didn't use any cultural markings. You didn't see anything Iranian in the animation or graphic novel because I wanted my audience to realize that this could be anywhere, it could be Connecticut."
This is what I found most powerful about the book. That this sort of revolution could happen anywhere. I was moved/disturbed when I read Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale during my first week of study abroad in Cuba. The synchronicity wasn't intentional but it certainly turned out that way. Cuba's revolution was sudden, and so was the revolution in The Handmaid's Tale. The woman in the book's story begins in contemporary America, but soon a religious regime takes over and women's bank accounts are turned over to their husbands/male family members. And after that women's rights are slowly taken away until women are essentially property of the dictatorial and conservatively Christian regime that has taken over the United States.
I'm also glad that we read a graphic memoir--it was my first experience with the graphic novel/memoir, save a Superman comic I read when I was twelve. Structurally, I found the structure of the memoir fascinating in that Satrapi had only a few carefully chosen words to tell her life story. She picked all the right words and as Libba said in her blog, her graphics also function as words.
"If you notice I didn't use any cultural markings. You didn't see anything Iranian in the animation or graphic novel because I wanted my audience to realize that this could be anywhere, it could be Connecticut."
This is what I found most powerful about the book. That this sort of revolution could happen anywhere. I was moved/disturbed when I read Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale during my first week of study abroad in Cuba. The synchronicity wasn't intentional but it certainly turned out that way. Cuba's revolution was sudden, and so was the revolution in The Handmaid's Tale. The woman in the book's story begins in contemporary America, but soon a religious regime takes over and women's bank accounts are turned over to their husbands/male family members. And after that women's rights are slowly taken away until women are essentially property of the dictatorial and conservatively Christian regime that has taken over the United States.
I'm also glad that we read a graphic memoir--it was my first experience with the graphic novel/memoir, save a Superman comic I read when I was twelve. Structurally, I found the structure of the memoir fascinating in that Satrapi had only a few carefully chosen words to tell her life story. She picked all the right words and as Libba said in her blog, her graphics also function as words.
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