With both As I Lay Dying and The Memory of Running, I was disappointed by the endings, like many other students. I wasn't sure if this was a common trend across many of the books we've been reading, and with the not-so-happy story of Room, I wasn't expecting a happy ending either, and was hoping for an ending that wasn't too dark.
My wishes were granted, luckily, with the ending to Room. Ending this story is a difficult task. The time that Jack (and especially Ma) spent in Room will impact them for the rest of their lives, and this story will continue on throughout their entire lives. But Donaghue can't go on forever, talking about what happens to Jack over the rest of his life. This would be a tough situation to deal with, but I thought that Donaghue handled it quite remarkably.
Her decision to conclude the story with Jack leaving Room stands out. The fact that Jack moves on from Room (figuratively and literally) after visiting it one last time ends a story inside of itself. That's the story of Jack's escape from Room, and his initial time out of Room. Surely, there's a story before Jack's birthday and after Jack and Ma say "Bye" to Room, but Donaghue uses these events to create an interesting and compelling story about a situation that I had never really even thought about before.
The ambiguous ending of Room also is an important aspect to it being good to me. I thought that if Donaghue tried to wrap up too many loose ends, than the novel would lose a lot of my positive thoughts toward it. I absolutely hate it when an author decides that enough is enough and just starts bringing an end to every single story component. It's nice to leave things hanging up in the air, because it leaves it up to the reader and makes us think about it. If we know that Jack and Ma are hit by a bus on the way back from Room, there's no story to tell (Holding back the fact that that would make the ending suck.). The fact that the end of the story of Room is left up to us really makes the story, because it leaves it up to us.
The ending wasn't too optimistic or pessimistic either. Jack and Ma won't be able to completely move on and live perfectly normal lives. At the same time, their time in Room hasn't completely destroyed their lives, and there's plenty of time to reintegrate into society and become normal, everyday people enjoying life. Once again, books which force either a happy or sad ending stink, because it's hard for a reader to make their own opinion. I'm not sure if it's just me (probably the same for others too, though I don't know), but I like coming to my own conclusions on stories, so having an ending crammed down my throat can really make me dislike books or even whole series (Harry Potter and Hunger Games were both kind of ruined by the forced endings, IMO).
Room's ending was pretty good, not only because it was well placed, but because it left an ambiguous ending which left interpretation up to the reader.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Learning About the Outside: Jack's View of the World Outside the Room
So far, in my reading of Room, the one thing that has jumped out at me has been Jack's perception of "Outside". Having been born in Room and having lived in Room for all five years of his life, without ever leaving it, Jack has no real idea of what lies beyond the door. His only idea of what's out there comes from TV, and he believes that it's all just pretend. With Jack narrating the story, this sets up a really interesting perspective from which the story is told: Our narrator has no concept of the real world, something that is so familiar to us readers as people living in that real world.
And even when Ma explains to Jack that there is an outside world, Jack doesn't really get it. And I can understand why. The fact that there is a massive world outside of the 11' x 11' room (not sure if I did the math right, but I got that Earth is 4,536,570,000,000 times larger than the room...try comprehending that now, let alone when you're five) is very hard for Jack to understand, since he can only take Ma's word for it. This takes a lot of faith from a five year old to believe in something that he's so unable to comprehend.
This is reinforced by Jack's personalization of household items, like Thermostat or Room. To Jack, Thermostat is not only a thermostat, but THE thermostat. Room isn't a room, but THE room. It's nearly impossible for Jack to understand the concept of there being a huge outside world, since he's never been in it, been able to interact with it, or even been able to see it. Heck, it was hard for me as a five year old, who wasn't trapped in a room, to understand the concept of the outside world, even though I had a lot more exposure to it than Jack had.
And what this sets up is the imminent situation in which Jack and Ma escape from Room, and Jack is exposed to this outside world. While Plan A to get out didn't work, Ma has a Plan B which may just end up working...
And even when Ma explains to Jack that there is an outside world, Jack doesn't really get it. And I can understand why. The fact that there is a massive world outside of the 11' x 11' room (not sure if I did the math right, but I got that Earth is 4,536,570,000,000 times larger than the room...try comprehending that now, let alone when you're five) is very hard for Jack to understand, since he can only take Ma's word for it. This takes a lot of faith from a five year old to believe in something that he's so unable to comprehend.
This is reinforced by Jack's personalization of household items, like Thermostat or Room. To Jack, Thermostat is not only a thermostat, but THE thermostat. Room isn't a room, but THE room. It's nearly impossible for Jack to understand the concept of there being a huge outside world, since he's never been in it, been able to interact with it, or even been able to see it. Heck, it was hard for me as a five year old, who wasn't trapped in a room, to understand the concept of the outside world, even though I had a lot more exposure to it than Jack had.
And what this sets up is the imminent situation in which Jack and Ma escape from Room, and Jack is exposed to this outside world. While Plan A to get out didn't work, Ma has a Plan B which may just end up working...
Sunday, November 16, 2014
How Not to Go From Rhode Island to California: Smithy's Journey Across the US
As many of you know, I'm a transportation (specifically a railroad) enthusiast. The one thing that I really found intriguing about The Memory of Running was that Smithy, of all people, decided to bike across the nation.
First off, as one would think, biking is not the fastest way to get across the nation. Flying would take a matter of hours, while driving or taking the train might take a few days. Biking, however, is a rather slow and tedious process. It takes Smithy weeks to take his journey, and he also uses a lot more energy than he would have if he had gone by any other means.
This was something which struck me as odd about Smithy: the Smithy we know when he sets out on his cycling journey does not seem like somebody who would be up to the challenge to bike across the nation, nor does he seem like somebody who would even try to. Most people we hear of who do transcontinental bike rides are in peak physical condition. While they're going a lot faster than Smithy, it's still a very physically exhausting and demanding exercise. I think Smithy would know this heading into it (especially since he doesn't seem to have exercised in a LONG time), and would have chosen another way, such as taking the train. Quite honestly, I think Smithy would fit in on the train, which always seems to have an interesting and odd group of misfits onboard.
I get it that Smithy's journey represents the formation of a "new Smithy" away from all the vices that had kept him back in the past. But why, in the very first place, did Smithy decide to bike? If he wanted to go to LA to claim Bethany's body at the morgue, you think he would get there in a more urgent manner, since it is a time-sensitive issue. Even if Smithy doesn't realize this since he's drunk, I still think he'd have enough sense (and I don't think it would take much, honestly) to realize that biking there would not only be impractical but impossible as well.
I also know that some people seem to think that Smithy is biking to get away from everything at home. While the loss of his family is definitely a tragic and traumatic experience for Smithy, I don't see why that would motivate him to leave everything behind. I think that it would actually lead to Smithy hitting the booze and food more, since that's what has comforted him, was comforting him, and would continue to comfort him. He's even drunk when he decides to bike out west! Some people find therapy in exercise, but I don't think that would be Smithy's mindset, since he doesn't seem to be a person who'd be very interested in exercise, as I said above.
I understand that without Smithy's bike journey we wouldn't have much of a story. There might be some interesting scenarios on a train or plane ride, but there wouldn't be a true journey, at least a heroic one. The fact that Smithy chose to (and actually did) bike across the nation is heroic, and it's something that not many people can do. Anybody can take a plane or ride a train. Not many people could bike across the nation, and even fewer will do that. The bike ride is what sets Smithy apart and makes him a unique and interesting character, and it's what drives this novel and allowed it to even happen.
First off, as one would think, biking is not the fastest way to get across the nation. Flying would take a matter of hours, while driving or taking the train might take a few days. Biking, however, is a rather slow and tedious process. It takes Smithy weeks to take his journey, and he also uses a lot more energy than he would have if he had gone by any other means.
This was something which struck me as odd about Smithy: the Smithy we know when he sets out on his cycling journey does not seem like somebody who would be up to the challenge to bike across the nation, nor does he seem like somebody who would even try to. Most people we hear of who do transcontinental bike rides are in peak physical condition. While they're going a lot faster than Smithy, it's still a very physically exhausting and demanding exercise. I think Smithy would know this heading into it (especially since he doesn't seem to have exercised in a LONG time), and would have chosen another way, such as taking the train. Quite honestly, I think Smithy would fit in on the train, which always seems to have an interesting and odd group of misfits onboard.
I get it that Smithy's journey represents the formation of a "new Smithy" away from all the vices that had kept him back in the past. But why, in the very first place, did Smithy decide to bike? If he wanted to go to LA to claim Bethany's body at the morgue, you think he would get there in a more urgent manner, since it is a time-sensitive issue. Even if Smithy doesn't realize this since he's drunk, I still think he'd have enough sense (and I don't think it would take much, honestly) to realize that biking there would not only be impractical but impossible as well.
I also know that some people seem to think that Smithy is biking to get away from everything at home. While the loss of his family is definitely a tragic and traumatic experience for Smithy, I don't see why that would motivate him to leave everything behind. I think that it would actually lead to Smithy hitting the booze and food more, since that's what has comforted him, was comforting him, and would continue to comfort him. He's even drunk when he decides to bike out west! Some people find therapy in exercise, but I don't think that would be Smithy's mindset, since he doesn't seem to be a person who'd be very interested in exercise, as I said above.
I understand that without Smithy's bike journey we wouldn't have much of a story. There might be some interesting scenarios on a train or plane ride, but there wouldn't be a true journey, at least a heroic one. The fact that Smithy chose to (and actually did) bike across the nation is heroic, and it's something that not many people can do. Anybody can take a plane or ride a train. Not many people could bike across the nation, and even fewer will do that. The bike ride is what sets Smithy apart and makes him a unique and interesting character, and it's what drives this novel and allowed it to even happen.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Talk About a Bad Ending
When it comes to TV shows and movies, people like to complain about endings. Whether it's Seinfeld or The Sopranos, there can be a lot of controversy about how the writers chose to tie up the loose ends on a show and bring it to an end.
Up to reading The Memory of Running, I hadn't really read an ending that I truly hated. And after reading it, I still haven't. However, I wasn't very happy about the way that McLarty decided to bring an end to the novel.
While I figured that Smithy would end up happily with Norma (though I didn't like it, from the beginning), I definitely didn't expect them to end up in LA together, let alone on Venice Beach. I figured Smithy might head home, and then their relationship would start up there. I found the fact that Norma came all the way to California to see Smithy (and Bethany) was rather unrealistic, and quite conceived upon the spot.
As I mentioned in class, this novel, full of stories about Smithy's life, didn't conclude with a typical "Smithy ending" (still working on getting this to become a widely used term in literary analysis) in which Smithy's efforts are more or less for nothing. Smithy's prom, his service in the military, his trip to visit Bill Butler, and his nationwide bike trip were largely negated by the misfortunate endings of these situations. For example, Smithy's poorly timed decision to relieve himself led to him getting shot up and the death of a fellow soldier, ending his military service (though he does receive a Purple Heart for his injuries). Or when, after biking from Rhode Island to New Mexico (that's not easy, folks!) decides to take a truck for most of the rest of the way to California. While Smithy's ride up through New Mexico is definitely admirable and worthy of recognition, but the fact that he slacks off in the end really undermined his previous actions, at least in my opinion.
As such, I was expecting the "ultimate Smithy ending" to conclude the novel. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I figured that there would be something to ultimately disrupt the "positivity and optimism" of the novel that Mr. Mitchell brought up in his previous blog post, despite the numerous misfortunes which Smithy faces. Instead, the ending serves to further reinforce this "happy ending", with Smithy and Norma having a happy ending.
While this happy ending isn't necessarily an overall bad ending, I was disappointed by it, because I felt like there were more interesting ways to end the novel, that would've been better fit for Smithy.
Up to reading The Memory of Running, I hadn't really read an ending that I truly hated. And after reading it, I still haven't. However, I wasn't very happy about the way that McLarty decided to bring an end to the novel.
While I figured that Smithy would end up happily with Norma (though I didn't like it, from the beginning), I definitely didn't expect them to end up in LA together, let alone on Venice Beach. I figured Smithy might head home, and then their relationship would start up there. I found the fact that Norma came all the way to California to see Smithy (and Bethany) was rather unrealistic, and quite conceived upon the spot.
As I mentioned in class, this novel, full of stories about Smithy's life, didn't conclude with a typical "Smithy ending" (still working on getting this to become a widely used term in literary analysis) in which Smithy's efforts are more or less for nothing. Smithy's prom, his service in the military, his trip to visit Bill Butler, and his nationwide bike trip were largely negated by the misfortunate endings of these situations. For example, Smithy's poorly timed decision to relieve himself led to him getting shot up and the death of a fellow soldier, ending his military service (though he does receive a Purple Heart for his injuries). Or when, after biking from Rhode Island to New Mexico (that's not easy, folks!) decides to take a truck for most of the rest of the way to California. While Smithy's ride up through New Mexico is definitely admirable and worthy of recognition, but the fact that he slacks off in the end really undermined his previous actions, at least in my opinion.
As such, I was expecting the "ultimate Smithy ending" to conclude the novel. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I figured that there would be something to ultimately disrupt the "positivity and optimism" of the novel that Mr. Mitchell brought up in his previous blog post, despite the numerous misfortunes which Smithy faces. Instead, the ending serves to further reinforce this "happy ending", with Smithy and Norma having a happy ending.
While this happy ending isn't necessarily an overall bad ending, I was disappointed by it, because I felt like there were more interesting ways to end the novel, that would've been better fit for Smithy.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
The Irony of Smithy as a War Hero
One could call Smithy Ide a war hero...he has won a Purple Heart, after all. However, the situation in which he managed to earn that decoration was less than heroic. As we all know, Smithy's unfortunately timed pee break during his sentry duty led to him being shot multiple times, along with fellow soldier Orlando Cepeda being killed.
The thing is, what Smithy did wasn't very heroic. When I think of Purple Heart recipients, I think of those who charged up a hill or saved the lives of injured soldiers while under enemy fire. Until I read The Memory of Running, I never thought about Purple Hearts being earned in the manner which Smithy did.
Granted, Smithy doesn't exactly flaunt the fact that he received a Purple Heart in Vietnam. As we know from Smithy's narration throughout the story, he doesn't seem to like attention. In fact, most of the attention that we see Smithy getting comes in a negative light, whether it's getting beat up by the cop at Carl's house or getting shot by a cop in the Rockies, after saving Kenny's life in a sudden blizzard. The only exception to this is Smithy's interactions with Georgina Glass, Bethany's psychiatrist, who Smithy is attracted to, and as a result, wears his Purple Heart medal whenever he goes to drop off Bethany at her appointments there. It would be very, very ironic if Smithy was to brag about his Purple Heart everywhere, considering how he managed to get it.
If it wasn't for Smithy's screw-up (which was a careless action, not a malignant one), Smithy wouldn't have gotten shot up, and Orlando would still be alive. It's definitely not a heroic moment for Smithy, though the general public sees him as a war hero because of the fact that he was given a Purple Heart. Smithy does deserve a Purple Heart, since he was wounded in combat, but it's not exactly the same as it is for other (but not all) Purple Heart recipients, who took truly heroic actions, and as a consequence, received Purple Hearts.
Basically, to sum it all up, while Smithy does deserve and receives a Purple Heart, the situation in which he receives it is less heroic than many of the situations which we hear about soldiers receiving Purple Hearts for, but this fact is unknown to the public. How would the public view Smithy's Purple Heart if they knew the situation in which he earned it? I doubt it would be as positive of a view as they have just knowing that he's earned one.
Jacob
Thursday, October 16, 2014
When Heroes Go Down
Branching off from my post about my perception of Anse changing (and losing his hero status, at least in my opinion) in the last section of the novel, I've noticed over time that being a hero doesn't mean that you're always going to be one. In the real world, there have been many people who have been regarded as heroes, but have had their recognition fall down, following an event or the release of any information that could discredit them.
One such example is that of Joe Paterno. A legend of football coaching, "JoePa" coached Penn State's football team for 46 seasons, up until he was 84 years old (which is pretty old to be coaching football…he wound up breaking some bone almost every year near the end of his career from sideline collisions). Paterno was considered to be the winningest NCAA football coach after getting his 406th win in 2011, against Illinois (of course). At this point, Joe Paterno had already become established as a hero and as a football legend. He played prominent roles in Big Ten advertisements, and was a hero of Penn State football fans and NCAA fans alike.
This all came crashing down however during his 2011 season, following the arrest of Jerry Sandusky in November, a former assistant coach at Penn State on charges of child molestation, including numerous incidences during his tenure as a Penn State coach from 1994 through 1999. Much controversy followed, and Paterno was found to have known about what was going on, yet did little to stop it. He was fired from Penn State, and died shortly thereafter. Investigations following Paterno's death revealed that he not only knew about Sandusky's actions, but covered up these actions to try and preserve the prestige of Penn State's football program. The NCAA took away all his wins from 1998 up until his firing. His statue outside of Penn State's stadium was removed. In a matter of months, Paterno went from being recognized as one of the greatest of all time, to becoming someone who could be seen in quite an unfavorable light. (Controversy exists to this day about this event, along with Penn State's and the NCAA's reactions to it)
The point I'm trying to make here is that it takes a lot to build up hero status, but it only takes a little to tear it all down. It took me 250 pages to really see Anse as a hero, but it only took another 30 pages to change my opinion, and for Anse to lose his hero status. With Paterno, he spent 46 years building a legacy only to have it torn down in a matter of two months.
This brings up an interesting aspect of the hero: the status of being a hero is not given, but one that is earned. And just because you earn hero status doesn't mean its permanent. In fact, losing that hero status is a lot easier than gaining it. I think a lot of the reasoning behind that is human nature. It takes us longer to develop a positive opinion of someone or something than it does for us to form a negative opinion. It's hard to build up trust as opposed to tearing it down.
And that's the same dynamic we have with heroes, both literary and those in the real world. When we see someone as a hero, we've developed trust in them as a hero due to their actions and qualities. That trust has to be built up as well. You may have an idea about who the hero will be when you pick up a book for the first time, but you can't be certain until you've built up that trust about the hero. And at the same time, it doesn't take much for that trust to be lost. If a character betrays their motives (kind of like what Anse does by marrying a new wife, at least in my opinion), it really hurts their heroic status, since it's your trust in the character, their motives, and their actions that really make a hero, a hero.
In closing, I guess this points out how harsh we can be to people, real or not. It takes a lot for us to see them in a positive light, and doesn't take much to make us disregard what made them a hero. I noticed this a lot with the characters in As I Lay Dying. There seemed to be a lot of Bundren-dissing throughout the class. The Bundrens are a rather easy target to make fun of them, being a poor Mississippi family that could be seen as "white trash". It's these preexisting views of the Bundrens which make it so hard to see them as heroic. Look at them. They go through a ton of hardship to bury their mother in town. Cash loses a leg, Jewel saves the coffin (and Addie) multiple times, from roaring rivers to burning barns. Darl's there as a leading figure, since Anse doesn't do much. Vardaman doesn't have many heroic moments, but then again, he's like six years old and isn't exactly focusing on being a hero. Dewey Dell struggles with a secret throughout the journey that she can't tell anyone, and will likely continue to face following the end of the novel. These characters are heroic in their own ways, but our perception of the Bundren family already discredits their heroicness, and it doesn't help that many of the events in the endgame hurt their reputation. After all, it is hard to think of the man who's being taken away to an institution (who then proceeds to narrate about his train ride from the third person) as a hero.
see them as heroes.
As a final note, I'd like to thank Mr. Butler, his Flow of History, and Suzanne Vega for the title of this blog post. It would be a lot more boring without them.
One such example is that of Joe Paterno. A legend of football coaching, "JoePa" coached Penn State's football team for 46 seasons, up until he was 84 years old (which is pretty old to be coaching football…he wound up breaking some bone almost every year near the end of his career from sideline collisions). Paterno was considered to be the winningest NCAA football coach after getting his 406th win in 2011, against Illinois (of course). At this point, Joe Paterno had already become established as a hero and as a football legend. He played prominent roles in Big Ten advertisements, and was a hero of Penn State football fans and NCAA fans alike.
This all came crashing down however during his 2011 season, following the arrest of Jerry Sandusky in November, a former assistant coach at Penn State on charges of child molestation, including numerous incidences during his tenure as a Penn State coach from 1994 through 1999. Much controversy followed, and Paterno was found to have known about what was going on, yet did little to stop it. He was fired from Penn State, and died shortly thereafter. Investigations following Paterno's death revealed that he not only knew about Sandusky's actions, but covered up these actions to try and preserve the prestige of Penn State's football program. The NCAA took away all his wins from 1998 up until his firing. His statue outside of Penn State's stadium was removed. In a matter of months, Paterno went from being recognized as one of the greatest of all time, to becoming someone who could be seen in quite an unfavorable light. (Controversy exists to this day about this event, along with Penn State's and the NCAA's reactions to it)
The point I'm trying to make here is that it takes a lot to build up hero status, but it only takes a little to tear it all down. It took me 250 pages to really see Anse as a hero, but it only took another 30 pages to change my opinion, and for Anse to lose his hero status. With Paterno, he spent 46 years building a legacy only to have it torn down in a matter of two months.
This brings up an interesting aspect of the hero: the status of being a hero is not given, but one that is earned. And just because you earn hero status doesn't mean its permanent. In fact, losing that hero status is a lot easier than gaining it. I think a lot of the reasoning behind that is human nature. It takes us longer to develop a positive opinion of someone or something than it does for us to form a negative opinion. It's hard to build up trust as opposed to tearing it down.
And that's the same dynamic we have with heroes, both literary and those in the real world. When we see someone as a hero, we've developed trust in them as a hero due to their actions and qualities. That trust has to be built up as well. You may have an idea about who the hero will be when you pick up a book for the first time, but you can't be certain until you've built up that trust about the hero. And at the same time, it doesn't take much for that trust to be lost. If a character betrays their motives (kind of like what Anse does by marrying a new wife, at least in my opinion), it really hurts their heroic status, since it's your trust in the character, their motives, and their actions that really make a hero, a hero.
In closing, I guess this points out how harsh we can be to people, real or not. It takes a lot for us to see them in a positive light, and doesn't take much to make us disregard what made them a hero. I noticed this a lot with the characters in As I Lay Dying. There seemed to be a lot of Bundren-dissing throughout the class. The Bundrens are a rather easy target to make fun of them, being a poor Mississippi family that could be seen as "white trash". It's these preexisting views of the Bundrens which make it so hard to see them as heroic. Look at them. They go through a ton of hardship to bury their mother in town. Cash loses a leg, Jewel saves the coffin (and Addie) multiple times, from roaring rivers to burning barns. Darl's there as a leading figure, since Anse doesn't do much. Vardaman doesn't have many heroic moments, but then again, he's like six years old and isn't exactly focusing on being a hero. Dewey Dell struggles with a secret throughout the journey that she can't tell anyone, and will likely continue to face following the end of the novel. These characters are heroic in their own ways, but our perception of the Bundren family already discredits their heroicness, and it doesn't help that many of the events in the endgame hurt their reputation. After all, it is hard to think of the man who's being taken away to an institution (who then proceeds to narrate about his train ride from the third person) as a hero.
see them as heroes.
As a final note, I'd like to thank Mr. Butler, his Flow of History, and Suzanne Vega for the title of this blog post. It would be a lot more boring without them.
That's So Anse...
If you read my last post, you may have a noticed my favorable, sympathetic and pitiful attitude towards Anse and the problems that he's faced, and the dedication and determination he's made to Addie to get her buried in town.
I made these statements before reading the last section of As I Lay Dying, which came across to me as rather anticlimactic and sad. To be quite honest, I was kinda pissed off about how Faulkner ended each character's story, though I can't say I'm surprised, since we're dealing with the Bundrens, after all. Between Darl going to the institution, Carl's leg being messed up for good, Dewey Dell's rape and
The biggest problem I had was with Anse though. In the end, we learn that Anse has gotten new teeth and a new wife…besides being unexpected, it basically tore down my impression of Anse and his dedication to Addie. The fact that Anse basically forgets about Addie once she's buried in the ground really bothered me. I felt like Anse's dedication to Addie would continue beyond her death…well, beyond her burial in this case. I guess I was wrong. Also, how he managed to get the teeth is a question I have…didn't he reallocate the "Anse Bundren Dental Replacement Fund" money to the "Dead Mule Replacement Fund"? The way in which he gets the money (especially after asking Dewey Dell for her $10) is unknown, but seems quite odd.
My annoyance at Anse turned into anger following our class discussion today. I missed the fact that Anse's future wife is the one who provided him with the shovels to bury Addie in the first place. The fact that Anse is going to marry the woman who allowed him to bury Addie and leave her behind (both figuratively and literally) just seems really wrong. I could understand if later on, after a while, Anse was to find a wife. While I'm taken aback by his move, it's not really out of character for Anse. #likeananse
We don't get much info on the whole false teeth/new wife situation, so if I had more info on it, I may feel more sympathetic (or even less so) towards him. But that's the way Faulkner meant to end the story. As it says on the back cover, Faulker said that he "set out to write a tour-de-force…", and that from the very beginning knew "what the last words would be and where the last period would fall." This suggests that Faulkner intended to end the novel as it did, so I guess he meant for Anse to be seen in this light.
I guess this shows how your perception of somebody can change drastically from just one event or one piece of info…I went from defending Anse and supporting him as a hero last night to not really liking him as much now.
I made these statements before reading the last section of As I Lay Dying, which came across to me as rather anticlimactic and sad. To be quite honest, I was kinda pissed off about how Faulkner ended each character's story, though I can't say I'm surprised, since we're dealing with the Bundrens, after all. Between Darl going to the institution, Carl's leg being messed up for good, Dewey Dell's rape and
The biggest problem I had was with Anse though. In the end, we learn that Anse has gotten new teeth and a new wife…besides being unexpected, it basically tore down my impression of Anse and his dedication to Addie. The fact that Anse basically forgets about Addie once she's buried in the ground really bothered me. I felt like Anse's dedication to Addie would continue beyond her death…well, beyond her burial in this case. I guess I was wrong. Also, how he managed to get the teeth is a question I have…didn't he reallocate the "Anse Bundren Dental Replacement Fund" money to the "Dead Mule Replacement Fund"? The way in which he gets the money (especially after asking Dewey Dell for her $10) is unknown, but seems quite odd.
My annoyance at Anse turned into anger following our class discussion today. I missed the fact that Anse's future wife is the one who provided him with the shovels to bury Addie in the first place. The fact that Anse is going to marry the woman who allowed him to bury Addie and leave her behind (both figuratively and literally) just seems really wrong. I could understand if later on, after a while, Anse was to find a wife. While I'm taken aback by his move, it's not really out of character for Anse. #likeananse
We don't get much info on the whole false teeth/new wife situation, so if I had more info on it, I may feel more sympathetic (or even less so) towards him. But that's the way Faulkner meant to end the story. As it says on the back cover, Faulker said that he "set out to write a tour-de-force…", and that from the very beginning knew "what the last words would be and where the last period would fall." This suggests that Faulkner intended to end the novel as it did, so I guess he meant for Anse to be seen in this light.
I guess this shows how your perception of somebody can change drastically from just one event or one piece of info…I went from defending Anse and supporting him as a hero last night to not really liking him as much now.
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