"A sincere heart can make a stone blossom."

1) How is the power of imagination a major theme of the story?

Imagination, which leads to storytelling, are the fuel of the narrator and Luo's fire. To escape the never ending troubles of living on the "Phoenix of the Sky", these two boys tell of better places and easier days, leaving behind the troubling jobs they carry, "Each basketful that we managed to haul all the way from the end of the tunnel became a game of Russian roulette," (Sijie 30). But not only does the storytelling heal the mental troubles but also heal actual dangers.

Early on in the book, Luo and the narrator are sent out of the village to watch a movie in the city and "relate the film from beginning to end to the headman and everyone else," (Sijie 19). Giving the boys a vacation because of their storytelling abilities, proves that their imagination got them out of a lot of poo (pun intended!). But also, letting Luo home his storytelling abilities put the entire story in swing. After the narrator receives Ursule Mirouet by Balzac, he falls into the book, leaving food and sleep behind. "In spite of my complete ignorance of that distant land called France...I was feeling quite at home in Nemours, imagining myself posted by the smoking hearth of her parlour..."(Sijie 57). His falling, but not helplessly, is important for self-preservation. Taking part in these experiences leaves another moment of potential self-pity at waste, and their dreams alive. "We accepted this infernal ordeal, because we were determined to stay in the race at all costs, even though our chances of returning to the city were no more than the infinitesimal three in a thousand."

Everyone is affected by these two boys active imaginations, most of the time ending well for them. The little seamstress, in particular, is greatly affected by their imagination. Her entire outlook on life is different when books and imagination are introduced to her. She takes escape to the next level, when she leaves her mountain seclusion for the city lifestyle. Both the boys took her for granted saying,"...I was angry with the Little Seamstress. Although I was fully aware of my role as spectator, I felt just as betrayed as Luo, not by her decision to leave the mountain, but by the fact that she had not thought to tell me about it," (Sijie 183). But what the narrator does not see is that for her to leave and take the final step in growing, she needed not to tell them of her departure. The final line of the book sums up her growth; "She said she had learnt one thing from Balzac: that a woman's beauty is a treasure beyond price,"(Sijie 184)

Who know being good could end so bad.

Close your eyes. There's an empty field. In the middle, a tree in all it's large, magnificently trusting glory. The branches reach up to the sky in praise of the pure.
Then lightning strikes the caring branches, bringing fire to all that surrounds this support system. This once majestic structure, now crumbles and is weak, succumbing to the fire as it engulfs all that ever was. This tree is Othello. Trusting in those around him except for the ones to be trusted, such as Desdemona,"...Of one not that loved not wisely but too well"(Act 5, Scene 2). Ironically, Othello stops trusting everyone's intentions around him, minus that of Iago, and everyone's eventual downfall begins. This downfall is what creates a tragic hero; a character has a flaw in judgment that leads to a dramatic change in his/her life. Usually paired with extreme use of dramatic irony.

Iago's "lightning" spreads pestilence like a wildfire through dry bush. He strikes hard saying, "Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure..."(Act 3, Scene 3). And immediately thereafter, Othello starts to doubt Desdemona. As the story continues, Othello falls, slowly at first and then more rapidly towards the last act, towards the untruth and deceit created by Iago. Even through Othello's doubt and weak proof, Iago convinces him of everyone else's deceit. As in the play, Oedipus Rex, Oedipus is deceived by his own fate and arrogance while Othello is deceived by Iago, a representation of his fate in human form. Iago plays fate, a cruel reality but one that is necessary for a tragic vision. In Oedipus Rex, fate is an invisible character that plays the part as the "conductor", much like Iago.

Desdemona, Cassio, Rodrigo, and Emilia's love is also the "conductor" and the victims of Othello. Because of their innocent, blind love the tragic vision is pushed on. The love is ignorant but not in the traditional sense. The love is blind to all the judgments, even the wise ones. A trait that others might find desirable, but Shakespeare makes them at fault because of. Desdemona's love for Othello keeps her blind to what Othello sees in her, even after his much reiteration. "Upon my knees, what doth your speech import? I understand a fury in your words. But not the words," (Act 4, Scene 2). But Desdemona's love is so strong that even after Othello kills her, she defends his action saying "Nobody; I myself [has done this deed]." Cassio's love is much like Desdemona's in that he hopes for Othello's appreciation but once lost, he never regains. His love for his reputation and for Othello's love, blinds him to how Iago uses this love against him. Rodrigo's love is blind to the manipulation of Iago. Even after his money is taken and his life is used in Iago's plots, he does not realize that he is the catalyst of this tragic vision. But so is Emilia. What Rodrigo is subconsciously, Emilia is consciously. Emilia knows deep down that Iago is plotting. But her love blinds her to question her instincts. Even after Iago brushes her off showing affection for the handkerchief more than her self, Emilia turns a blind eye to his plotting saying "...what he will do with it, Heaven knows, not I; I nothing but to please his fantasy,"(Act 3, Scene 3). The irony blooms in this statement showing that Emilia, no matter the circumstances, would do anything for love; a desperation Iago feeds off of. This blind motif, also a motif in Oedipus, causes a similar but necessary ending for any tragedy, death and banishment.

The tragic characters in Othello all play their own strange twisted roles in this play. They all loved blindly and without the use of foreshadowing and risk management. But because of that, they all loved hard and fell hard. Iago's intentions were in some strange way, natural. The character is not hated by the reader for his actions because they are understood emotions, jealousy and vengeance. Desdemona, Othello, Cassio, Emilia, and Rodrigo's love is what is desired. Their love makes them the perfect characters in a tragedy because they have so much to lose. Iago states this, "He hath a daily beauty in his life that makes me ugly,"(Act 5, Scene 1). But Emilia, the most insightful blind character, sums up the entire play at the end of Act 4, "...is't frailty that thus errs? It is so too."

"L is for the way you look at me. O is for..."

huh. love.

well, for understandings sake, it's kind of like communism.

no, listen for a minute. it will make sense.

So communism on paper, pure communism, sounds AWESOME, great. But once implemented, it doesn't work. One person is greedy and wants all the power. They step on the weak and poor, making everything fall apart.

Well, love on paper sounds awesome. Finally, someone who gives a damn and isn't afraid to show it. Whatever. But once the grace period is over, everything falls apart. Someone stops caring as much. Someone decides to give a little less. Someone gets hurt.

Young love is the worst. Not only does the grace period end, but it ends faster, harder, rougher. Everybody is all awkward. No one knows how to break a heart.

But think about it. If someone steps on your toes, it hurts and you get mad. But if it happens over and over again, you'll learn from it and move your toes the next time.

a whole lot of nothing.

hum.

growing old is hard because....

Well, when my teenage angst hit and all was pessimistic and gross, I was just an unexpecting, innocent freshman. The lethargy creeped into my routine, my parents turned all that more irritating and unbearable. My hopes and dreams, my grades for that matter, began to sssllllooowwwly slip through my metaphoric hands. It was a sad and clique day.

haha.

but really. the hard part about growing up is growing up. it just sucks, growing old and have responsibility. But even more than that is the painful and hard realization that all along you were wrong. All those long talks with your crusty grandparents about how you should live it up and enjoy the youth while it lasts, suddenly make sense. No person of my age would DARE admit to being wrong about how they live their lives. We are all about the rebellion and confusion. We bask in our ignorance.

I mean, why listen to someone who has lived this before?

noooooo. Please don't do anything logical poor little teenager.

I must admit myself, until about 2 min. ago, was that person. I was NEVER wrong about anything. I was the guru of all things about life. Forget the fact that I'm only 16. I knew EVERYTHING. But you just have to slap yourself over the face with the book of wake-up calls and just say one thing...

I know just about everything about being 16. And that is just a whole lot of nothing.

Oh, you old fart, you.

Well, the only really quirky thing about my family is that we live a REALLY long time. Like we are oxes. On my mom's side, my grandfather has emphazema, skin cancer, and a bum foot. Yet lives in florida (sun 360 days of the year), plays golf 3 times a week, and keeps up with his garden. His mother has dymentia and all kinds of other stuff and has to be mid-90's (no one knows her exact age, her birth certificate was burned in a fire. she still thinks she is 70.) my great-great aunt is 101 and can still have a sensable conversation. On my dad's side his great aunt had a stroke lived for 15 more years. I don't know if that is unusual but I think that is pretty good.

but I'm not really sure if that is a plus or not. I mean who wants to live to be 100?
Not me.

But other than that we are pretty ordinary. No cousin shacking up with cousins. No funky deaths or strange accidents. No famous people. No grandfathers named Sweater.

We don't really have any traditions, either. I feel like I've missed out in that sense. My stepmom's family used to come over on Thanksgiving and Aunt Irene would tell us about the next big scam she had bought into and how the Indians at the gas station are stealing people's money.

But that's a-b-o-u-t it. uh. sorry if that was boring.

Just a big fat nasty circle.

What I know after this roller coaster of decisions, is there is no one definition for fate or freewill. Of course there are guidelines everyone sometimes follow, but the definitions we all discover are all different.

What I understand is that life is not all about the answers, but more of the questions. Ever since i was little, the way i thought you acquired knowledge was through answers. and yea, sometimes it is. But you truly grow and learn about yourself through the questions we develop (i know that sounds all like psychobabble but whatever)

What I doubt is the true difference between fate and freewill and even if that matters. They both just seem to be explanations of how things work. Shit happens, and maybe it has to do with your destiny or not. Maybe we all choose exactly what happens. The way I see it is that no matter what you do, the choices we make happen everyday affect everything else.

EXAMPLE: So someone choses to kill my mom, that might be freewill. But what results is that killer's great-grandchild kills himself. Thus because of his actions, someone else's fate was determined.

Strange. But someone who does not believe in destiny could easily say that the first killing could be in result of something someone else did. Hum...

but i'll move on.


What I am still wondering is why after all this time and pondering, am I still just at square one? I feel like I learned a new way of thinking (and questioning). But WHY after all this time is it so easy for me to just dismiss all of it and still ask the essential question, SO WHAT!



Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious - atoning for educatability through delicate beauty

did you know that?

psh. Freewill, smealwill.

I chose fate. this seems like the optimistic choice. think about it. i would much rather believe that a loved one was killed because (insert your religious overlord's name here) thought it was his/or her's time than just because some murderer hated my Nana's parking job. I would like to hope that mankind isn't predisposed to just do bad things. That maybe it's all happening for some reason. It gives me something to believe in. I rather try and learn something from what's all going on, than just why it happening to me.

poopidy.poopidy.poopidy. i'm so indecisive. both sound good, when you think about it. Freewill just sounds so damn pessimistic. why should we think we are so high and mighty that we decide how things turn out. we are just here to experience life. we don't decide anything. how can we? when we think like that, that's when our burdens get heavy.

you know?

thinking that we can change everything. But! we can't be so blah that everything just sort of happens TO us. i guess it has to happen FOR us.



p.s. all my post are the same size. that sucks.