Thank you, butterfly

As I sit at my desk Wednesday after Wednesday, trying to conjure up a “Blogging All-Star”-worthy topic, I often find myself woefully uninspired, today without exception. Frantically, my eyes searched around the room for insight other than the blank Microsoft Word document that stared at me unforgivingly until they gravitated to the little blue star next to my favorite quote from our in-class “speed-dating” discussions. Henry David Thoreau observes, “Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.” Despite the unexpected choice of a “butterfly” for the simile, I believe that Thoreau accurately represents the true meaning of happiness. He claims that the search for happiness proves unsuccessful and that one should acquire an alternate, more realistic goal. Additionally, he claims that without expectations for one’s happiness, a person can more thoroughly enjoy life, therefore, lead a happier life. The transcendentalist philosopher’s ideals reflect the common theme in The Great Gatsby, written by F. Scott Fitzgerald along with my experience writing this blog. In Fitzgerald’s novel, he depicts the intertwined lives of New York socialites in the “roaring ‘20’s,” as nothing short of extravagant. However, with their wealth and social status come expectations associated with their state-of-minds. For instance, Daisy, the cousin of the narrator, Nick, behaves ambiguously to hide her true emotions. Her façade of a confident and happy heiress does not deceive Nick, though, who observed, “I felt the…insincerity…as though the whole evening had been a trick” (17). He directly characterizes her as insincere, therefore, portraying her as someone who puts on a front on the exterior that does not correlate with her true feelings. Fitzgerald, through Nick, exhibits Daisy as a person who strives for happiness in the wrong ways such as: She stays with her husband despite his betrayal and she emphasizes the importance on material goods and social status. To reach a state of happiness, as according to Thoreau, Daisy should alter opinions of what fosters happiness and focus on them, allowing room for the figurative “butterfly” to grant her contentment through her newly acquired behavior. I, too, have found authenticity in Thoreau’s quote. Instead of happiness, though, I sought the perfect blog topic. However, when I stopped thinking so hard to discover an award-winning idea, a certain little butterfly came and rested on my shoulder.

"Adapting" or completely changing?

I remember the days of first through sixth grade when a simple question from my mom could sum up an entire day of school: “What did you learn today, honey?” Now, I can’t even gauge what I learned before second period in response to that simple question. But today, upon my arrival home, I educated my mother on our short story unit in AP English and consequently, the film adaptations that go along with these stories. I attributed my sudden urge to inform my mother to the time I spend following my 7^th period English class pondering the decisions made by film directors in regards to the adapted stories, predominantly in “The Balloon.” Donald Barthelme wrote this story that Martynas Zaremba later adapted, signifying two very contrasting works. Throughout our reading-then-watching journeys, I formed the belief that directors take too many liberties in relation to the authentic stories. The majority of their alterations to the story lines ultimately skew the purposes of the literature. This belief led me to encourage my mom to watch the video without any prior knowledge of the story. I did so in hopes of comparing her perception with mine (which the previous reading of the story heavily influenced). As the credits rolled, my mom explained that she thought the balloon transpired as a symbol for unity, bringing together all types of people who shared the same curiosity for the unknown. What she failed to understand resulted as the fact that the tattooed man and woman controlled the balloon, and observed the people around them in the process. Her perception of the film without first reading the short story contrasted Barthelme’s intended purpose, which I believe emerged as conducting a social experiment and thus criticizing curious people’s need to associate meaning with everything in life. What would Barthelme think of this reconstruction to his writing? If one wishes to use another person’s original thoughts to benefit themselves, shouldn’t they persist in conveying the same underlying message? To me, my mother’s inability to grasp Barthelme’s main objective underscored the fault in the film adaptations. I firmly believe that if modifying an author’s work, one must showcase the original story’s purpose accurately. Whether watching “The Balloon,” “The Sound Machine” or even “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets,” one should indicate a film’s success largely based on the true correlation to the writing.