Friday, June 10, 2011

Review of Huckleberry Finn

Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn is a book inspired by the Antebellum South, where the strange institution of slavery was viciously defended, and whites were taught to view blacks as lesser beings. As many know, it is about the adventures of a boy and an escaped slave on the Mississippi River, and about the mental journey that Huck undergoes to view Jim as an equal. In my opinion, its fame is well deserved, for the book is extremely well written, as well as engaging.

I enjoyed reading Huckleberry Finn because it was well written and engaging. Twain’s writing style is friendly and familiar, although the dialect can be difficult to get through (when I first tried to read Huck Finn in 8th grade, after reading Tom Sawyer, I gave up around when the King and the Duke appeared). Twain has the rare gift of forcing readers to live with the characters, even if the setting and situations are completely different from what the readers have ever experienced themselves. The exact issue at hand, slavery, has ceased to be a central issue to America today, but the struggle between what Huckleberry has been taught is right and what he knows in his heart is right is still very relevant.

Compared to other works of the same time period, Mark Twain’s writing is concise and easier to read, because while he may have been paid by the word, he didn’t write as though trying to get as many words as possible into his book. His word choice is appropriate for his subject matter, and the characters never seem to speak awkwardly – again, Mark Twain is a master of dialect. What really made the book stand out 150 years ago was not his writing style, however fantastic and unique it may be. Instead, it was his ability to take on a very controversial subject without preaching or hateful writing. This subject, although no longer a focal point of politics, is still a tender one in the American eye. Mark Twain’s book was recently re-written (read: censored) to exclude the word “nigger” and replace it with “slave.” The re-write has been the focus of much debate, and shows that Twain’s novel is still controversial; even now that slavery has ended over a century ago.

If readers look to the newly released version of Huck Finn to give them literary swank without needing to brave hate language, they may wish to read Tom Sawyer instead. After all, the book is exactly the same as the original, only missing the “n-word”. As such, Jim is still beaten and chained, treated like a thing rather than a human being, and hunted for like an animal, but he is never called any names (except, of course, for the arguably worse title of “slave”). Huckleberry Finn is a book that will make you angry, and it will make you sad, and it will make you ashamed for what once was. It’s certainly not a book for light reading. It will also make you laugh (Says Jim: Is a Frenchman a dog, or a cow? If he’s a man, why doesn’t he talk like one?), however, and it is a book that everyone ought to read. (If everyone in the world had read the same book, we’d all have something to talk about at those awkward parties. Icebreaker? Huckleberry Finn, of course!) It’s a story that will stir your emotions, which is really the most important thing for a book to do.

Read Huckleberry Finn. It’s a fantastic book that’s somehow managed to remain entertaining, engaging, and relevant for longer than most. The only dissappointment you’ll face is at the end, when you’ll have to wonder if Mark Twain sold out to what I’m sure were the demands of periodical readers that read Tom Sawyer and wanted more of the same. If you pretend that the end is the famous, “Fine – I’ll go to hell!” line, and you still drudge up some discontenment, please tell me what it was and let me argue with you.

Monday, May 30, 2011

And so goes life

Today is Memorial Day. Thank you, veterans. Thank you for fighting to defend your people and your freedom.

Also, today I found out that the deadline to submit applications to the fashion show that I'd planned on showing my dress at was three days ago. I'm going to submit an application anyway, in the grasping hope that they haven't filled all their slots, but... well. It looks like I can go ahead and finish the dress, but I have nowhere to wear it now, since the fashion show is out of the picture, and I am dateless for Ball.
Will I finish it? Probably. Will I ever wear it anywhere? Well, maybe I'll just marry someone in the military so that I'll have a military ball to go to. And pray that it still fits at that point. Yeah.

Again, to everyone in the military, thank you for serving, and I hope you had a fantastic Monday Memorial Day.

See how I brought that full circle?

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Post-Apocalyptic Bread

This weekend, the Rapture wasn't, and I tried out making yeast bread. My experience with yeast consisted of once making home-made pizza, but I now have a half-eaten cinnamon swirl loaf in my kitchen, and three loaves of bread (two white, one cinnamon) in my freezer. I didn't try the white bread, because we have a loaf of store-bought bread already open, and I didn't want to waste it, so we'll probably thaw that out sometime around Wednesday. The cinnamon-swirl bread was really good, though, and simple (though time-consuming) to make. I used the recipe from The Good Book (also known as FIELDNAME, which I only wish that I were being paid to promote, and I do recommend it because it is the best cookbook ever), and it was perfect. If you ever make cinnamon swirl-bread, make sure that you use as much of the cinnamon-swirl mixture as you think you can possible cram into that bread. I thought mine would turn out overdone, but after tasting it, I think I could have put more in there.

While I was working on the cinnamon-swirl bread, which I made Saturday, I kept joking with my family that I really shouldn't have doubled the recipe, because there would be no way that we'd be able to eat both loaves before the world ended at six.
Then, of course, the clock struck six, and we realized that, obviously, we were just all awful people, and that was why we hadn't been raptured. That's the truth, you know, because obviously it's been long enough since Jonah's flood that the rapture couldn't be any time BUT now.
Duh.

All jokes aside, I do wonder how the people that really believed in the whole thing are feeling today. Betrayed? Confused? Scared? Really wishing they hadn't quit their job, sold the house, and stopped contributing to their children's college fund? Probably. I really feel for those people. Their faith is the most important aspect of many of their lives, I'd wager, and to have that faith crushed in an instant would be mentally and emotionally devastating. I read about one church that had been actively trying to make sure that the Camping's followers would go to them afterwards, as an attempt to help them recover from the emotional trauma that I'm sure many of them are suffering right now. It's sad though... You wonder how somebody could possibly believe something like that, but we all have our little unreasonable beliefs. I'm just lucky that I'm stupidly terrified of small dead rodents, instead of buying into end-of-the-world movements.

On a more positive note, we played Frisbee yesterday, which was fun. Frisbee is cool because I can throw Frisbees reasonably well when I try, and I can occasionally catch them, too, which is not the case in most games of catch. In any case, it's been a beautiful weekend, contrary to the weather reports from even as late as Thursday.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

An Auspicious Day

Yesterday, May 17th 2011, was an auspicious day. It was Buddha Purnima, which celebrates the Buddha's birthday, the day of his enlightenment, and the day he died and passed into Nirvana.
It was also my birthday. To my knowledge, Buddha Purnima has never been on my birthday before (because it's a lunar thing), so that was really cool.
So, when my dad posted on my facebook wall, "What an auspicious day!" with a picture of a Buddhist holy man, it made me fairly happy that my birthday was "auspicious" because it happened to fall on the right day this year.
Then, today, while syncing my new ipod (this one can handle holding my entire music library, instead of less than half of it), I noticed an inscription on the back of it. It said, "Happy 18th birthday, Carlin! An auspicious day indeed!"
I suspected collaboration between parents, but Mom told me that she had simply chosen "auspicious" over the myriad of synonyms (splendid, stupendous, wonderful, great, grand, fantastic, special) by chance. She's wrong, of course. This is an omen -- My adult life is going to rock!

Sunday, May 8, 2011

¿Como Hace?

I’m studying. Actually, I’m not. You see, studying vocab is where you sit in bed (or on the bus, or in the kitchen) and focus on two or three words at a time and just concentrate on the words and little else. AP studying, however, is an entirely different beast.

Doesn't my yard look like a fairy tale?

I’m studying for my AP Comparative Government and Politics test today (Mexico and Iran, today). Ironically enough, the studying was much easier to concentrate on when it was sunny outside earlier, as I just took a beach towel outside and read in the sun (always wear sunscreen, kiddies). Once it got cloudy, though, I got my camera and played with the color filters for a while, then came inside and turned on the TV so that I could multitask.

But.

One of my favorite shows was on. Studying with the noise of the TV in the background turns into watching “What The Ancients Knew” and studying during commercials. After watching “What The Ancients Knew – Egyptians,” I realized that this was really, really not economizing my time, and so I recorded Greece and India so that I could read about the voting demographics in Mexico. (In general, the uneducated poor vote for PRI, the middle-class old people who like Catholicism vote for PAN and middle-class students vote fore PRD, in case you were wondering. Riveting, I know.)

Study-time does tend to turn into study-and-take-pictures-of-flowers-time, or study-but-also-design-a-dress-time with me. These are some pictures I took of flowers when I was doing China on Friday.

I was really glad I’d gone out and taken them on Friday, because Saturday our lawn care guys came and cut our grass – and also the lawn flowers that I love. I think that when I’m ancient and own my own house, the neighbors will hate me because I will never mow my lawn because I love it when there are flowers. I’ll say, “I know that our grass is a foot tall in places, but if I cut it, I’ll kill the dandelions!”

And eventually my yard will revert to its natural state, and I’ll start having to hunt the bears that come to live on my land. That’ll teach me, I’m sure.

Oh, by the way, Zahi Hawass made an appearance on the “What The Ancients Knew” episode on Egypt because he’s awesome.

He's on shows about Egypt all the time on History Channel, Nat Geo, Science Channel, et cetera. I would have to say that he is one of my favorite television personalities.


P. S. Happy Mother's Day.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

A Productive Day

Today was a productive day. My mom went to have a dress fitted, I cut out the pieces for my dress, we got glasses (both of us did), and we spent some time at Target. I really like Target, and I think that it's infinitely better than Walmart... And I got sunglasses and underwear (yep. You sure did need to know.), and we tried to buy The Fantastic Mr. Fox and Romeo + Juliet, but they didn't have either one, and that was sad. I also bought a hat that reminds me of a bowler hat, except that it's made of a hemp-like material.
In any case, it was a beautiful day, and after we got home from our errands, I went outside and went running. I took a meandering route, and I really have no idea how far I went. It was, however, a productive run, because I found a 9/11 memorial (I'd seen the statue and the flags, but I never realized what it was), and I found a park (which I'd driven past a gazhillion times, but never really registered), and I found a river. A creek. A stream. Whatever.
Also, I got hit on.

Picture: A young girl, hair frizzed from being crimped and then brushed and put in a ponytail. Blonde. Wearing a blue-turquise wifebeater and black yoga pants, jogging on footpath by the side of the road. Sitting on a sign for the Community College across the street are five young men wearing clothes that are, collectively, too large. One is wearing a polo shirt of a matching color to the young girl. He leaps off of the sign and runs across the road to meet her.
Jose: Hey, I see you're jogging.
Me: Yes. Yes I am.
Jose: We're wearing the same color shirt.
Me: uh-huh.
Jose: Where are you jogging to? Mind if I jog with you?
Me: Nowhere in particular, and go ahead. (note: girl maintains a rather disinterested tone, because even if Jose is kinda hot, she has a boyfriend and doesn't want the kind of guy who hits on random joggers)
Jose: So... what's your name?
Me: I'm Alice (note: girl's name is not Alice. She is a filthy liar.)
Jose: I'm Jose.
Me: Nice to meet you.
Jose: So, do you jog often?
Me: Almost every day.
Jose: Ah... Do you always come this way?
Me: Not usually, no.
Jose: Oh. Well, I live right over there (gestures largely at the community on the other side of the street from the park along which I'm running), so you can feel free to come this way any time you want.
Me: mmm.
Jose: Well, bye.
Me: See ya.

I admit, I was rather frosty to the guy, but yesterday they brought in a guest speaker to talk to us about abusive relationships, and last year we talked about date rape, and the moment this random guy crossed the street to come to talk to me, I started envisioning the cops finding my body in the river (which I found today) three weeks later.
Which would suck.
So I acted kinda frostily, and he ended up leaving me alone, and he didn't even ask me for my number.
I think I'm starting to figure out how to not accidentally flirt with strange men. Productive day, yes?

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Sundaes

Today is a very special day. Today is a day to celebrate. Today is a day for feasting and good cheer. Today is the birthday of the ice cream sundae.

(This sundae made by JL. Wild congratulations should not be given to me for anything accomplished by his obsessive drive.)

So.

Forgo that diet and grab some ice cream and sauce. Combine, and eat.

But eat with good cheer, and with good friends and family! Eat with twelve-year olds in muscle shirts

Eat with soon-to-be stepsisters

Eat and rejoice at the wonder that is the ice-cream sundae (allegedly invented in 1892 in Ithaca, NY)!

And that’s what I did today.
Please note that with the exception of the picture of the sundae at the top, my mom took all pictures in this post. However, they are still "mine," so please don't take them. Especially the sundae at the top. JL would be displeased.