Wednesday, November 7, 2012

"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 7th 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.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Admittedly ignorant


A topic discussed in class sparked my intrigue about the way that I deal with unfavorable discoveries. This topic transpires as the belief that one’s willingness to take responsibility for distressing information contributes to their integrity. I have come to understand that there remains a line between behaving ignorantly and realistically when faced with the obstacle of taking responsibility. These ideals are represented in both Roald Dahl’s writing and in my life. Dahl exhibits a scenario in his short story, “The Sound Machine,” that poses the necessity for rational thinking. An inventor named Klausner adamantly experimented with a machine that could hear an undetectable “world of sound” (29). However, the sounds that surfaced with his invention opened an additional realm of problems. After hearing the pain experienced by roses and a tree, he urged the skeptical Dr. Scott to listen to the noises as well. Upon using the device, the Doctor reacted strangely by exclaiming not so convincingly that he didn’t hear anything. By indirectly characterizing him as anxious, Dahl implies that he did, in fact hear the noises also heard by Klausner. This complication surfaces the question: Why would one lie about such an instance? I believe that this reaction, although selfish, transpires as natural for many people. It stems from the widely held belief that “ignorance is bliss,” and signifies the previously mentioned line between ignorance and realism. Dr. Scott foresaw the problems that society would face if they were exposed to the unforgiving sound machine. In this particular situation, it proved beneficial to behave realistically. Thus, by denying it’s ability (and not taking responsibility) to detect such horrible noises, he avoided the possibility for change in society. Conversely, in reality, I faced a similar situation quite, but on a smaller scale. When I first saw the Kony video, I became outraged at the fact that so many children were falling victim to one horrible, selfish man. This is where the test of my integrity came into play. I might have shed a tear or two, but then I proceeded with my normal life. To avoid feeling sad, I did not invest any money or effort into the cause. Basically, to evade worrying myself further over a cause that I convinced myself I could not effectively contribute to, I did not take responsibility. Although my lack of taking responsibility differs from Dr. Scott’s, each reaction represents the spectrum of ignorance to realism. Reading Dahl’s story opened my eyes to the consequences of remaining ignorant, but also instilled on me the importance of remaining realistic in occasional circumstances like the one depicted in his work.  

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Appreciative of the closure


The ending of Oliive Kitteridge, written by renowned author, Elizabeth Strout, left me feeling content. The novel followed the life of Olive Kitteridge and the many couples in Crosby, Maine intertwined in her life. Throughout the reading, I never quite felt at ease. Even in the most stable of relationships portrayed by Strout, she depicted flaws that led the relationship to dysfunction. For example, the relationship between Rebecca Brown and her boyfriend, David, was not a respectable one on the outside. With Strout’s use of dramatic irony, the reader can perceive that Rebecca still loves her previous beau, Jace. Rebecca even ordered a shirt for David that she realized she had truly ordered “for Jace” (247). Their relationship serves as a synechdoche for the majority of the relationships in this novel, which were depicted as dysfunctional. However, the ending poses a new claim, inconsistent with Strout’s views on love throughout the rest of the book. Strout concludes with the notion that a pair can work through their flaws and still live happily together. This claim is presented with the relationship of Olive and Jack Kennison. After the two lonely adults met by chance, they fell in love. Olive even feels guilt for not “[loving] Henry this way for many years” (269). Despite Olive’s apprehension towards Jack for “[voting] for a man who is lying to the country,” she learns to sacrifice her expectations for love. The happy relationship provides hope as well as closure to the conclusion of the book. Following all of the miserable relationships illustrated, Strout concludes her novel with a promising one. She writes to those who have been through hardship in love, advocating the possibility of being happy even amidst certain flaws.

Work on it


I felt furious consistently throughout the reading of the second third of Olive Kitteridge by New York Times best-selling author, Elizabeth Strout. I became extremely irked at the claim in which Strout constantly portrays through the relationships of protagonists in her novel. I feel that she perceives love as predominantly flawed, and implies that as human beings, we should settle for whatever life hands us. Despite her valid claims, I heavily disagree. I do concur that love has its flaws…nothing in life is perfect. However, Strout illustrates the relationship between the Kitteridges as well as the relationships of the people intertwined in the sole couple’s lives as cheifly dysfunctional. For example, when Henry and Olive Kitteridge discuss the trials of being parents with Bunny and Bill Newton, they reveal that their daughter, Karen, had “carried on a brief affair” then “decided… to stay in her marriage” (107). This first incidence indicates that Karen was unfaithful to her husband, which implies that she became unhappy in her current marriage. The idea of cheating on a person strikes me as quite selfish. Why lead your “partner” on and create a false sense of happiness? People become unsatisfied with their relationships, and instead of addressing the situation, they take action that allows them to settle. Further, Strout paints even the relationship between Olive and Henry as flawed. Even after the effect of the life-altering incident at the hospital had died down, the words that the couple had exchanged in that time of extreme intensity would never be forgotten. Strout indicates simply, “they would never get over that night” (124). However, instead of portraying the pair as intending to fix their problems, she portrays them settling into an unhappy relationship. I believe this is problematic, especially because Henry and Olive have acted as the pinnacle for a happy relationship throughout the book. Despite their differences, Henry “stands [Olive]” (130). But this particular instance delineates the couple accepting dysfunction. Finally, Strout maintains the trend of representing imperfect relationships through the introduction of Jane and Bob Houlton. Following the revelation of Bob’s dishonesty, Jane quickly accepts  his disloyalty. The author reveals Jane’s thought process in her forgiveness: “What did they have now…what could you do if it was not even quite that?” (139). Her assessment of the situation, I believe, is deeply distorted. Why do people feel the need to settle? When the question of “what could you do” is posed, many logical resolutions surface. I consider settling as the easy route and simply as embracing a life that you wouldn’t prefer in lieu of making it better. 

Olive has my attention


I believe that author Elizabeth Strout possesses two distinct writing qualities that have contributed to the appeal of her novel, Olive Kitteridge. Throughout the first third of the novel, Strout develops the story of protagonist Olive Kitteridge as well as the characters whose lives are somehow intertwined with hers in their small town of Crosby, Maine. Strout evolves both these characters as well as their individual stories utilizing indirect characterization and suspense. For example, when first introducing the relationship of Olive’s husband, Henry Kitteridge, and his co-worker Denise Thibodeau, Strout indirectly characterizes Olive as jealous through her harsh tone towards Denise, saying, “’No one’s cute who can’t stand up straight’” (5). This particular indirect characterization becomes significant in the novel because it introduces the conflict of Olive’s jealousy, stemming from Henry’s compassion for another woman. The indirect characterization not only develops Olive more as a character, but also provides a sense of foreshadowing, implying that the relationship between Henry and Denise will become more intimate. In addition to this instance, Strout indirectly characterizes Kevin as extremely sinister after including his wish to work with psychiatry patients “whose feet had been beaten raw” (36). In doing so, the author successfully juxtaposes Kevin’s dark feelings to Olive’s friendly advice. Strout effectively illustrates the influence of which Olive has over people in her life through her prevention of Kevin’s suicide. Furthermore, Strout’s use of suspense appeals to my enjoyment as a reader. With a foreboding tone and sharp diction, Strout successfully portrays the suspense of a tragedy, writing, “A Saturday at home…’you poor, poor child’” (18). With short syntax, and a lack of emotions in description, merely a summary of the incident, Strout creates suspense that will ultimately be a turning point in the chapter, “Pharmacy”. The loss of Denise’s husband results in sympathy from Henry, adding to the tension between he and his wife at home. With so many characters, it’s extremely interesting to see the way in which each of the extra characters’ own personal trials ultimately affect Olive and her immediate family. I think these factors contribute for a more interesting plot, holding my attention easily. Another example of suspense in the novel transpires as Kevin’s plan to commit suicide. Without even knowing about his suicide, something troubling is implied with Strout’s illustration of him. The author displays Kevin as loitering, explaining, “How much time went by, Kevin didn’t know” (31). Again, with short syntax and lack of explanation of what Kevin planned to do, suspense became introduced along with a curiosity of his intentions. The inclusion of Kevin’s inner conflict in addition to the way in which Olive acted as a savior to him (preventing him from taking his own life) added interest to the story as a whole, as well as the interest of Olive Kitteridge and how she seems to play a role in the lives of many eccentric people. With the use of indirect characterization and suspense, Strout appeals to the reader’s interest. And in all of these instances, she proves that compassion can be both harmful and beneficial to those who believe otherwise.