Tuesday, December 16, 2008
She wrote such a huge book, stuffed with facts, loaded with opinions, and drenched in detail. Why?
Well, let me show you what she said in the beginning of her book:
"I have taken the liberty of describing your* characters and situations. I was not prompted by the slightest animosity toward you, but because the public are interested in you, and curious concerning you, and I felt that I could give to the world a true story of your lives, and, at the same time, do you justice, and let you be seen as you are in my eyes, which are not dimmed by prejudice. I was driven to the course I am pursuing by sheer desperation, as some of you, with whom I have exchanged confidences, well know."
*(your, you, etc.) The wives of Brigham Young
From this passage, she tells us her motive for writing this book was for the education of the public and the eye-opening of polygamous wives about which she said, "I look upon your lives with pity." However, because of some of the sarcastic rants she runs away on in her book, I believe that her intent was not solely "for the people."
A.E. Young explains the aspects of Mormonism and how they relate to her much like a very miffed person would explain a situation when you ask them, "What's wrong?" No doubt there is bias in her explanation, as there would be in any argument, so in some parts it can't be seen as a very fair depiction of Mormonism for "the public." However, I think this is a good thing, not only by giving us a strong point of view, but for her conscious as well. I beieve she started out writing this book in the interest of the non-Mormon public and on the behalf of the Mormon women still enslaved in polygamy, but it eventually evolved into an outlet for years of repressed anger, hate, depression, and regret. I think of it as a therapy of sorts for a socially appropriate lady who had a solid education, quick wit, and a sharp tongue that she couldn't use in public, but was able to hide in a book for the unsuspecting reader to encounter.
I will admit, she makes a slight reference to this "therapy" in her explanation of why she wrote the book, and how she did it out of "sheer desperation." But, as she clearly states in the same line, only those "with whom [she] exchanged confidences" truly knew of her deep despair. While I believe she exposed much of her hurt and heartbreak in this book, I think she carried her most troubling trials and burdens to her grave.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
"Marrying Pa"
Posted by rjhmoore at 4:56 PM 0 comments
A.E. Young has added yet another disturbing fact to her tale. Apparently it eventually became the common custom for a man to marry his wife and then marry his daughter(s) once they became of age. A.E. talks about two schoolmates of hers and how they discussed their future relationship with their father. She says, "The little girls knew of the arrangement, and used to talk very openly of 'marrying Pa,' and in very much the same way they would speak of their intention to take tea with a friend." I must say this: disgusting. Of all the things, what could have possibly led these people to believe that incest was a divine practice?
These are my thoughts broken down and organized so that someone besides myself can understand them. First I think, those poor girls. I imagine marrying my dad and I shudder. It is just so wrong and unnatural. To see that they approached it openly and casually makes me wonder what was said to them to make them believe this was an okay, even good, thing. What could someone say to me to make me think that marrying my dad was the right thing to do? I cannot possibly imagine anything could make me think that because of the age I am and the knowledge that I've come to possess. However, perhaps because the girls were so "little," they were more impressionable, and therefore grew up believing that this was a societal norm.
Second, I think, what do the parents of these children think about doing this their offspring? Offspring are simply that; they do not double as spouses. A.E. Young tells us that many men and women married with the sole goal of eventually sealing all their daughters to the husband so that he would have plenty of wives in heaven. How did this prospect settle in young couples' minds? Imagine being a wife and having a daughter knowing that someday she would have to lay with your husband just as he lays with you. Imagine being a husband know that your daughter will be the mother of your grandchildren/children or whatever title on the family tree those kids are given. It is unbelievably sick. How were these parents and daughters at peace with this arrangement?
I have been surprised by many of the things that the early Mormons did, but this shocked me. I'm baffled by what pain these incestuous acts surely caused.
A.E. Young has added yet another disturbing fact to her tale. Apparently it eventually became the common custom for a man to marry his wife and then marry his daughter(s) once they became of age. A.E. talks about two schoolmates of hers and how they discussed their future relationship with their father. She says, "The little girls knew of the arrangement, and used to talk very openly of 'marrying Pa,' and in very much the same way they would speak of their intention to take tea with a friend." I must say this: disgusting. Of all the things, what could have possibly led these people to believe that incest was a divine practice?
These are my thoughts broken down and organized so that someone besides myself can understand them. First I think, those poor girls. I imagine marrying my dad and I shudder. It is just so wrong and unnatural. To see that they approached it openly and casually makes me wonder what was said to them to make them believe this was an okay, even good, thing. What could someone say to me to make me think that marrying my dad was the right thing to do? I cannot possibly imagine anything could make me think that because of the age I am and the knowledge that I've come to possess. However, perhaps because the girls were so "little," they were more impressionable, and therefore grew up believing that this was a societal norm.
Second, I think, what do the parents of these children think about doing this their offspring? Offspring are simply that; they do not double as spouses. A.E. Young tells us that many men and women married with the sole goal of eventually sealing all their daughters to the husband so that he would have plenty of wives in heaven. How did this prospect settle in young couples' minds? Imagine being a wife and having a daughter knowing that someday she would have to lay with your husband just as he lays with you. Imagine being a husband know that your daughter will be the mother of your grandchildren/children or whatever title on the family tree those kids are given. It is unbelievably sick. How were these parents and daughters at peace with this arrangement?
I have been surprised by many of the things that the early Mormons did, but this shocked me. I'm baffled by what pain these incestuous acts surely caused.
Sent on a Mission... "Thus Saith the Lord."
Posted by rjhmoore at 2:55 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
As it turns out, Brigham Young had a nasty little habit for doing things that only benefited his well-being and perhaps, if he's lucky, that of the Church's too. As leader of all of these people, the Mormons, he was expected to be intelligent, wise, and profitable. Not only did he have to fulfill these titles, but he had to be the best at them. So when a person or two came along with a promising future as a rising star, he "put a stop to their growing prosperity," (Young). A.E. Young, the wonderful spiller of truths, tells us, "His usual method of doing this [was] by sending them on a mission." That doesn't sound to bad you say. Listen as A.E. Young tells you a story of two men who were treated to such a "mission."
"For a number of years, two men -- named Badley and Hugh Moon -- worked a whiskey distillery in Salt Lake City, and appeared to be becoming rapidly wealthy. They were good Mormons, staunch defenders of Brigham Young, ready in every good work with open purses and generous deeds, and they were highly respected by the entire body of Saints.
What was the consternation of the Church, when, during the delivery of a temperance sermon on Sunday, the President, waxing more personal, more eloquent, and consequently more abusive, "cursed, in the name of the Lord," the men that ran the distillery!
They knew very well that these men paid their tithing promptly, -- the greatest virtue a Mormon can possess, by the way, -- and that they were foremost in all charitable works, and they marvelled very much that the Prophet should deal so hardly with them. His language was so abusive that Badley, who was especially attached to the President Young, shed tears during the denunciation. He finally finished his anathemas by ordering them to take their families and go on a mission to an unsettled portion of the Territory, leaving their homes to "the Church," which, of course, meant Brigham Young.
As soon as they had gone, the Prophet removed the apparatus for distilling a few miles from the city, and commenced making whiskey for the Church. But, unfortunately, the Church whiskey did not prove to be so good as that made by Moon and Badley, and the Church distillery was short-lived.
The men who were thus heartlessly ruined and unjustly exiled never returned. Their homes were broken up, their property taken from them, and themselves and their families banished to the wilderness, to gratify the covetousness and grasping of an avaricious tyrant, who committed this outrage, as he had all others, with a 'Thus saith the Lord.' "
Not such a harmless mission after all. The men and their families weren't even allowed to return; they were banished. This passage just got me thinking, what if the circumstances were the same today? You're sent on a mission trip, by your church, out to Kenya. After the work you've done is completed, your pastor says, "Well, you can do more, in the name of the Lord." So you do, but the pastor keeps telling you to do more and just stay over there. Essentially, he won't let you come home. If you did come home somehow, you'd find that all of you stuff is gone, your house has been torn down, and your property has been sold. What would that be like? It's hard to imagine, but I have a feeling, it must be similar to what victims of natural disasters feel when they return home after escaping a storm, only to find that a few boards and a couple of windows are all that remain of their past life.
Is being banished by a storm just another way of being banished by "God" (or in this case Brigham Young)?
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
As it turns out, Brigham Young had a nasty little habit for doing things that only benefited his well-being and perhaps, if he's lucky, that of the Church's too. As leader of all of these people, the Mormons, he was expected to be intelligent, wise, and profitable. Not only did he have to fulfill these titles, but he had to be the best at them. So when a person or two came along with a promising future as a rising star, he "put a stop to their growing prosperity," (Young). A.E. Young, the wonderful spiller of truths, tells us, "His usual method of doing this [was] by sending them on a mission." That doesn't sound to bad you say. Listen as A.E. Young tells you a story of two men who were treated to such a "mission."
"For a number of years, two men -- named Badley and Hugh Moon -- worked a whiskey distillery in Salt Lake City, and appeared to be becoming rapidly wealthy. They were good Mormons, staunch defenders of Brigham Young, ready in every good work with open purses and generous deeds, and they were highly respected by the entire body of Saints.
What was the consternation of the Church, when, during the delivery of a temperance sermon on Sunday, the President, waxing more personal, more eloquent, and consequently more abusive, "cursed, in the name of the Lord," the men that ran the distillery!
They knew very well that these men paid their tithing promptly, -- the greatest virtue a Mormon can possess, by the way, -- and that they were foremost in all charitable works, and they marvelled very much that the Prophet should deal so hardly with them. His language was so abusive that Badley, who was especially attached to the President Young, shed tears during the denunciation. He finally finished his anathemas by ordering them to take their families and go on a mission to an unsettled portion of the Territory, leaving their homes to "the Church," which, of course, meant Brigham Young.
As soon as they had gone, the Prophet removed the apparatus for distilling a few miles from the city, and commenced making whiskey for the Church. But, unfortunately, the Church whiskey did not prove to be so good as that made by Moon and Badley, and the Church distillery was short-lived.
The men who were thus heartlessly ruined and unjustly exiled never returned. Their homes were broken up, their property taken from them, and themselves and their families banished to the wilderness, to gratify the covetousness and grasping of an avaricious tyrant, who committed this outrage, as he had all others, with a 'Thus saith the Lord.' "
Not such a harmless mission after all. The men and their families weren't even allowed to return; they were banished. This passage just got me thinking, what if the circumstances were the same today? You're sent on a mission trip, by your church, out to Kenya. After the work you've done is completed, your pastor says, "Well, you can do more, in the name of the Lord." So you do, but the pastor keeps telling you to do more and just stay over there. Essentially, he won't let you come home. If you did come home somehow, you'd find that all of you stuff is gone, your house has been torn down, and your property has been sold. What would that be like? It's hard to imagine, but I have a feeling, it must be similar to what victims of natural disasters feel when they return home after escaping a storm, only to find that a few boards and a couple of windows are all that remain of their past life.
Is being banished by a storm just another way of being banished by "God" (or in this case Brigham Young)?
Vocab. 7 W.N. 19
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:17 PM 1 comments
You know the drill:
* Benighted - intellectually or morally ignorant; unenlightened; overtaken by darkness
* Pastorate - the office or term of office of a pastor; a body of pastors
* Scion - a descendant or heir
* Inebriety - drunkenness; intoxication
* Mulcted - to be penalized by fining or demanding forfeiture; to defraud or swindle
* Retrench - to cut down, reduce, or diminish; to cut off or remove
* Mite - a very small contribution or amount of money
* Avaricious - greedy; covetous
Use often!
You know the drill:
* Benighted - intellectually or morally ignorant; unenlightened; overtaken by darkness
* Pastorate - the office or term of office of a pastor; a body of pastors
* Scion - a descendant or heir
* Inebriety - drunkenness; intoxication
* Mulcted - to be penalized by fining or demanding forfeiture; to defraud or swindle
* Retrench - to cut down, reduce, or diminish; to cut off or remove
* Mite - a very small contribution or amount of money
* Avaricious - greedy; covetous
Use often!
An Amusing Story...
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:04 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Well, see for yourself:
"A very amusing story was told me of Brigham, by a lady who vouches for its truth; and although I cannot, of course, corroborate it, I am quite ready to give it credence enough to publish it. Brigham met a lady in the streets of Salt Lake City, several years since, who recognized him, and addressed him as Brother Young, greeting him quite cordially. He scrutinized her closely, with a puzzled expression.
"I know I have seen you somewhere," he said; "your face is very familiar, but I cannot recall you."
"You are right," replied she; "you have most certainly seen me before; I was married to you ten years ago. I have never seen you since," she continued, " but my memory is more retentive than yours, for I knew you the moment I saw you."
I give this to you to show how ridiculous this whole (and I have no other word for it) thing was and in some cases, still is. A.E Young gives us this "amusing" story to show us how not amusing it is. I have found A.E. Young to be a very sarcastic person, partly because of her anger and her pity that these people actually believe this stuff and believe in a man so corrupted and selfish, from her point of view. This "amusing story" is completely sarcastic. We are not meant to read it and go, "Ha, ha! So funny! He had a wife he didn't even care about enough to remember over the last ten years! I wonder how many other wives he's left in the gutter! Ha, ha!" No, the story is true as far as we know, but the fact that it is an amusing story it utterly false.
It really makes you question the validity of the Mormon Church. How could something so helpful and good today come from something that in the past was so degraded and spiteful? It's no wonder so many people walk away from and slam doors on Mormon missionaries. It's not that they don't respect what they believe in, it's just that it's too difficult to listen to somebody who wholly believes in something so preposterous-sounding and something that could be completely untrue.
The fact that Brigham Young had this encounter with this woman on the street and, from what it sounds like, didn't even turn a hair really bothers me. What do these people see in this Church and this religion that makes them so attached and faithful?
"If [Mormonism is] false, we're engaged in a great fraud. If it's true, it's the most important thing in the world. Now, that's the whole picture. It is either right or wrong, true or false, fraudulent or true. And that's exactly where we stand, with a conviction in our hearts that it is true." - Gordon B. Hinckley, 15th President of the Mormon Church
Mull over this, and I challenge you to give me at least a comment on your thoughts.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Well, see for yourself:
"A very amusing story was told me of Brigham, by a lady who vouches for its truth; and although I cannot, of course, corroborate it, I am quite ready to give it credence enough to publish it. Brigham met a lady in the streets of Salt Lake City, several years since, who recognized him, and addressed him as Brother Young, greeting him quite cordially. He scrutinized her closely, with a puzzled expression.
"I know I have seen you somewhere," he said; "your face is very familiar, but I cannot recall you."
"You are right," replied she; "you have most certainly seen me before; I was married to you ten years ago. I have never seen you since," she continued, " but my memory is more retentive than yours, for I knew you the moment I saw you."
I give this to you to show how ridiculous this whole (and I have no other word for it) thing was and in some cases, still is. A.E Young gives us this "amusing" story to show us how not amusing it is. I have found A.E. Young to be a very sarcastic person, partly because of her anger and her pity that these people actually believe this stuff and believe in a man so corrupted and selfish, from her point of view. This "amusing story" is completely sarcastic. We are not meant to read it and go, "Ha, ha! So funny! He had a wife he didn't even care about enough to remember over the last ten years! I wonder how many other wives he's left in the gutter! Ha, ha!" No, the story is true as far as we know, but the fact that it is an amusing story it utterly false.
It really makes you question the validity of the Mormon Church. How could something so helpful and good today come from something that in the past was so degraded and spiteful? It's no wonder so many people walk away from and slam doors on Mormon missionaries. It's not that they don't respect what they believe in, it's just that it's too difficult to listen to somebody who wholly believes in something so preposterous-sounding and something that could be completely untrue.
The fact that Brigham Young had this encounter with this woman on the street and, from what it sounds like, didn't even turn a hair really bothers me. What do these people see in this Church and this religion that makes them so attached and faithful?
"If [Mormonism is] false, we're engaged in a great fraud. If it's true, it's the most important thing in the world. Now, that's the whole picture. It is either right or wrong, true or false, fraudulent or true. And that's exactly where we stand, with a conviction in our hearts that it is true." - Gordon B. Hinckley, 15th President of the Mormon Church
Mull over this, and I challenge you to give me at least a comment on your thoughts.
Vocab. 6 W.N. 19
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:49 PM 0 comments
Surprisingly only three words this week despite how much I've read. Well, here they are:
* Perilling - to expose to danger or the chance of injury; imperil
* Termagant - a violent, turbulent, or brawling woman
* Disapprobation - disapproval; condemnation
I really like the word termagant. I'll probably find some practical use for it someday... :)
Surprisingly only three words this week despite how much I've read. Well, here they are:
* Perilling - to expose to danger or the chance of injury; imperil
* Termagant - a violent, turbulent, or brawling woman
* Disapprobation - disapproval; condemnation
I really like the word termagant. I'll probably find some practical use for it someday... :)
Delicacies
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:42 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Mmm... what comes to mind when you hear the word "delicacies?" Warm, fruit pastries, chocolate eclairs, just-out-of-the-oven, moist red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting dribbled over the top, pure dark chocolate... but don't just think of desserts. The things on menus in high-class restaurants (such as Gnocchi bouillabaisse with foie gras and ceviche served on morels in arugula) that you can't pronounce and don't even know the edible substances they relate to that are served in small portions in the middle of huge, sparkling, white plates and are more for decoration than eating: this is a delicacy.
A.E. Young briefly gives her view on delicacies after explaining the food situation in among the Mormons shortly after arriving in Utah. This except is lengthy, so hold on:
"When we arrived at "the Valley" we found the people practising (that's how she spells it) the most rigid economy. The crickets had been very numerous, and had almost entirely destroyed the crops, devastating whole fields, until they looked as though they had been scorched by fire. A few had managed, by most desperate exertions, to save some of their wheat; but as there was only an apology for a mill with no bolting apparatus, this wheat was obliged to be eaten without being sifted. When I have seen persons eating cracked wheat as a delicacy, and heard them speaking of it with the subdued enthusiasm which some people manifest when talking of food, I have thought of the time when this delicacy was the only thing that was seen on the tables at Utah for breakfast, dinner, or supper, and I have come to the conclusion that "delicacies" may, in time, grow monotonous."
She is right, of course. Someday that Gnocchi bouillabaisse with foie gras and ceviche served on morels in arugula may be a common dish for Sunday afternoon lunch, but thankfully not in the near future. However, she gives an example of a common food growing into a fine side dish instead of the opposite. Such is the case of ratatouille, essentially just a vegetable stew. It once was all that the poorest of the poor could afford since they could grow the ingredients themselves. In present times, this food has been recreated by Julia Child and the like and prepared under the label of fine cuisine.
Naturally, the order of progression can be flip-flopped and great things can become common. Provisions sold at the Farmer's Market today were once considered "delicacies" so rich that they could only grace a king's table. My dad goes there every week and buys fresh bread, turkey, countless types of fruit, cheeses, etc. This is what makes up my Sunday afternoon lunch, which is quite the unbreakable habit. It is because this food is so easy to get nowadays that it has ceased to be a dainty treat.
Cracked wheat bread is also easy to come by today, but it is seen as the food of choice for health nuts (or 'aficionados' is much more polite :) and the general public. It seems that either relative ease by which a food is produced or the demand of it by the people affect its "delicacy rating," which means that a food can't be a delicacy for long. Eventually, like A.E. Young said, delicacies will become monotonous because we will have tried all the food there is to have, raised and lowered it on the delicacy scale, and sooner or later, it will just be... food, the stuff that gives us energy.
So, I ask, what is the point of delicacies in the first place? Your thought to think about...
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Mmm... what comes to mind when you hear the word "delicacies?" Warm, fruit pastries, chocolate eclairs, just-out-of-the-oven, moist red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting dribbled over the top, pure dark chocolate... but don't just think of desserts. The things on menus in high-class restaurants (such as Gnocchi bouillabaisse with foie gras and ceviche served on morels in arugula) that you can't pronounce and don't even know the edible substances they relate to that are served in small portions in the middle of huge, sparkling, white plates and are more for decoration than eating: this is a delicacy.
A.E. Young briefly gives her view on delicacies after explaining the food situation in among the Mormons shortly after arriving in Utah. This except is lengthy, so hold on:
"When we arrived at "the Valley" we found the people practising (that's how she spells it) the most rigid economy. The crickets had been very numerous, and had almost entirely destroyed the crops, devastating whole fields, until they looked as though they had been scorched by fire. A few had managed, by most desperate exertions, to save some of their wheat; but as there was only an apology for a mill with no bolting apparatus, this wheat was obliged to be eaten without being sifted. When I have seen persons eating cracked wheat as a delicacy, and heard them speaking of it with the subdued enthusiasm which some people manifest when talking of food, I have thought of the time when this delicacy was the only thing that was seen on the tables at Utah for breakfast, dinner, or supper, and I have come to the conclusion that "delicacies" may, in time, grow monotonous."
She is right, of course. Someday that Gnocchi bouillabaisse with foie gras and ceviche served on morels in arugula may be a common dish for Sunday afternoon lunch, but thankfully not in the near future. However, she gives an example of a common food growing into a fine side dish instead of the opposite. Such is the case of ratatouille, essentially just a vegetable stew. It once was all that the poorest of the poor could afford since they could grow the ingredients themselves. In present times, this food has been recreated by Julia Child and the like and prepared under the label of fine cuisine.
Naturally, the order of progression can be flip-flopped and great things can become common. Provisions sold at the Farmer's Market today were once considered "delicacies" so rich that they could only grace a king's table. My dad goes there every week and buys fresh bread, turkey, countless types of fruit, cheeses, etc. This is what makes up my Sunday afternoon lunch, which is quite the unbreakable habit. It is because this food is so easy to get nowadays that it has ceased to be a dainty treat.
Cracked wheat bread is also easy to come by today, but it is seen as the food of choice for health nuts (or 'aficionados' is much more polite :) and the general public. It seems that either relative ease by which a food is produced or the demand of it by the people affect its "delicacy rating," which means that a food can't be a delicacy for long. Eventually, like A.E. Young said, delicacies will become monotonous because we will have tried all the food there is to have, raised and lowered it on the delicacy scale, and sooner or later, it will just be... food, the stuff that gives us energy.
So, I ask, what is the point of delicacies in the first place? Your thought to think about...
Vocab. 5 W.N. 19
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Not very many words this week, but give them a look over anyway :)
* Lithe - bending readily; pliant; limber
* Gainsay - to deny, dispute, or contradict
* Indissoluble - incapable of being dissolved; firm; perpetually binding or obligatory
* Accouchement - confinement of childbirth; lying-in
* Palliation - to relieve or lessen without curing; mitigate; alleviate
* Dupe - person who is easily deceived or fooled; to delude or trick
* Inveigh - to protest strongly or attack vehemently with words; rail
* Retrenchment - a cutting down or off, as by the reduction of expenses
* Subterfuge - an expedient used to evade a rule, escape consequence, hide something, etc.
Enjoy!
Not very many words this week, but give them a look over anyway :)
* Lithe - bending readily; pliant; limber
* Gainsay - to deny, dispute, or contradict
* Indissoluble - incapable of being dissolved; firm; perpetually binding or obligatory
* Accouchement - confinement of childbirth; lying-in
* Palliation - to relieve or lessen without curing; mitigate; alleviate
* Dupe - person who is easily deceived or fooled; to delude or trick
* Inveigh - to protest strongly or attack vehemently with words; rail
* Retrenchment - a cutting down or off, as by the reduction of expenses
* Subterfuge - an expedient used to evade a rule, escape consequence, hide something, etc.
Enjoy!
So Long!
Posted by rjhmoore at 3:48 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I'm so sorry I'm taking so long with this book! It is very interesting yet terribly long and drawn out. However I would like to finish it and see if she successfully sues Brigham Young for certain crimes committed against her :)
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I'm so sorry I'm taking so long with this book! It is very interesting yet terribly long and drawn out. However I would like to finish it and see if she successfully sues Brigham Young for certain crimes committed against her :)
Contrary Minds
Posted by rjhmoore at 8:01 PM 0 comments
There are no such things in the Mormon religion, at least for the extremely faithful, not even today, but especially not in the 19th century where everyone was a good and obedient Mormon. If you weren't, you were excommunicated. Poof, gone, simple as that. Ann Eliza Young explains this strange freedomless democracy using the example of the election of the new President of the Mormon Church after Joseph Smith's death.
There were two candidates, Sidney Rigdon and Brigham Young. Now you have to understand that Rigdon, once hearing of the Prophet's death, immediately rushed back to Nauvoo (he had grown "cool in the faith" and was living in Pittsburg, PA.) and claimed the role of Prophet, Seer, and Revelator. Many people of course disapproved of his sudden entrance back into the religion, so he began to create extremely fanciful and contradictory revelations about tremendous battles where "blood was to flow until the horses waded in it up to their very bridles" and so on. By this point Brigham Young had returned from missionary work and was in line for the presidency because he was the senior apostle. Many people had started questioning the sanity of Rigdon and Young encouraged the rumors. A court case was held against Rigdon, without him being present throughout the whole trial, with the intent to remove him as President. Young was largely involved in this trial and motioned to have Rigdon excommunicated.
Here is where the voting comes in. The ten people who ventured to vote in favor of Rigdon were immediately "suspended" from the Church "for their temerity." A.E. Young says, "This is the way in which persons are served even now who venture to disagree with Brigham Young. There is absolutely no such thing known among the Mormons as a free expression of opinion." She goes on to say this (since she explains these things so well): "The manner of voting in public assemblies is never varied. Brigham prefaces all ceremonies of the kind by an address, in which he manages to let the people know exactly how he feels upon the subject under discussion, and they understand that they are to feel exactly the same way; and as there is not question of choice, they make themselves fancy they do believe exactly as he does. If they have any question of doubt, they stifle it very quickly, and, if they are very good Mormons, take themselves to task for their wickedness in entertaining a thought contrary to the opinion of their Prophet." She then adds that at the end of each address, Brigham calls for a vote on the subject. He calls for a vote for the motion or whatever it is, and "receives all the saintly votes." I turn over the next part to A.E. Young: "The 'contrary minds' are then called; but such is the singular unity of this people that there is never a 'contrary' mind among them." If anyone votes "the other" way, "He is looked upon with suspicion, regarded as an enemy of the church and its ruler, and if he escapes serious persecution he may be considered especially fortunate."
Today, I'm sure no one is seriously persecuted, but I myself have witnessed the present-day Mormon voting system. If you view the video of the 178th Semiannual General Conference of the Church of Latter-day Saints, you will see that they include in the session a time for electing Church officials such as the twelve apostles and the Church President. A man comes up in front of this mass of thousands of people and says, "Those in favor of Thomas S. Monson (the President already in office) remaining as Prophet, Seer, and Revelator, please raise you hand," and every single person in that enormous crowd raises their hand. The sound of arms rising into the air sounds like a distant rumble of thunder, but when the man up front calls for those who disapprove of the motion, the whole tabernacle is as silent as the grave. Every motion and every candidate up for a position is voted for in the same way. No one dare vote against anything proposed. If they simply don't agree, they vote in favor due to peer pressure or out of pure fear. I would. It's frightening enough watching it on TV without actually being involved. I'm coming to discover that it's not easy being a latter-day saint, in the past or present.
There are no such things in the Mormon religion, at least for the extremely faithful, not even today, but especially not in the 19th century where everyone was a good and obedient Mormon. If you weren't, you were excommunicated. Poof, gone, simple as that. Ann Eliza Young explains this strange freedomless democracy using the example of the election of the new President of the Mormon Church after Joseph Smith's death.
There were two candidates, Sidney Rigdon and Brigham Young. Now you have to understand that Rigdon, once hearing of the Prophet's death, immediately rushed back to Nauvoo (he had grown "cool in the faith" and was living in Pittsburg, PA.) and claimed the role of Prophet, Seer, and Revelator. Many people of course disapproved of his sudden entrance back into the religion, so he began to create extremely fanciful and contradictory revelations about tremendous battles where "blood was to flow until the horses waded in it up to their very bridles" and so on. By this point Brigham Young had returned from missionary work and was in line for the presidency because he was the senior apostle. Many people had started questioning the sanity of Rigdon and Young encouraged the rumors. A court case was held against Rigdon, without him being present throughout the whole trial, with the intent to remove him as President. Young was largely involved in this trial and motioned to have Rigdon excommunicated.
Here is where the voting comes in. The ten people who ventured to vote in favor of Rigdon were immediately "suspended" from the Church "for their temerity." A.E. Young says, "This is the way in which persons are served even now who venture to disagree with Brigham Young. There is absolutely no such thing known among the Mormons as a free expression of opinion." She goes on to say this (since she explains these things so well): "The manner of voting in public assemblies is never varied. Brigham prefaces all ceremonies of the kind by an address, in which he manages to let the people know exactly how he feels upon the subject under discussion, and they understand that they are to feel exactly the same way; and as there is not question of choice, they make themselves fancy they do believe exactly as he does. If they have any question of doubt, they stifle it very quickly, and, if they are very good Mormons, take themselves to task for their wickedness in entertaining a thought contrary to the opinion of their Prophet." She then adds that at the end of each address, Brigham calls for a vote on the subject. He calls for a vote for the motion or whatever it is, and "receives all the saintly votes." I turn over the next part to A.E. Young: "The 'contrary minds' are then called; but such is the singular unity of this people that there is never a 'contrary' mind among them." If anyone votes "the other" way, "He is looked upon with suspicion, regarded as an enemy of the church and its ruler, and if he escapes serious persecution he may be considered especially fortunate."
Today, I'm sure no one is seriously persecuted, but I myself have witnessed the present-day Mormon voting system. If you view the video of the 178th Semiannual General Conference of the Church of Latter-day Saints, you will see that they include in the session a time for electing Church officials such as the twelve apostles and the Church President. A man comes up in front of this mass of thousands of people and says, "Those in favor of Thomas S. Monson (the President already in office) remaining as Prophet, Seer, and Revelator, please raise you hand," and every single person in that enormous crowd raises their hand. The sound of arms rising into the air sounds like a distant rumble of thunder, but when the man up front calls for those who disapprove of the motion, the whole tabernacle is as silent as the grave. Every motion and every candidate up for a position is voted for in the same way. No one dare vote against anything proposed. If they simply don't agree, they vote in favor due to peer pressure or out of pure fear. I would. It's frightening enough watching it on TV without actually being involved. I'm coming to discover that it's not easy being a latter-day saint, in the past or present.
Vocab. 4 W.N.19
Posted by rjhmoore at 7:04 PM 1 comments
Here are this week's words. Enjoy!
* Destitution - deprivation, lack, or absence; utter poverty
* Tempestuous - tumultuous, turbulent; of the nature of or resembling a tempest
* Rhodomontades - ("Rodomontade" is the spelling today) pretentious boasting or bragging; bluster
* Tractable - easily managed or controlled; docile; easily worked, shaped, or otherwise handled; malleable
* Prerogative - an exclusive right, privilege, etc., exercised by virtue of rank, office, or the like; having or exercising a prerogative
* Peremptory - leaving no opportunity for denial or refusal; imperious or dictatorial
* Acquiesce - to assent tacitly; submit or comply silently or without protest
* Untrammelled - not confined or limited
* Helpmeet - (ORIGIN: from the phrase "an help meet for him" i.e., a help suitable for him. "Helpmate" is the spelling today) a companion and helper; a wife or husband
* Promulgate - to make know by open declaration; publish
Some of these words you must have noticed are not often used today. Perhaps we can change that... just a thought!
Here are this week's words. Enjoy!
* Destitution - deprivation, lack, or absence; utter poverty
* Tempestuous - tumultuous, turbulent; of the nature of or resembling a tempest
* Rhodomontades - ("Rodomontade" is the spelling today) pretentious boasting or bragging; bluster
* Tractable - easily managed or controlled; docile; easily worked, shaped, or otherwise handled; malleable
* Prerogative - an exclusive right, privilege, etc., exercised by virtue of rank, office, or the like; having or exercising a prerogative
* Peremptory - leaving no opportunity for denial or refusal; imperious or dictatorial
* Acquiesce - to assent tacitly; submit or comply silently or without protest
* Untrammelled - not confined or limited
* Helpmeet - (ORIGIN: from the phrase "an help meet for him" i.e., a help suitable for him. "Helpmate" is the spelling today) a companion and helper; a wife or husband
* Promulgate - to make know by open declaration; publish
Some of these words you must have noticed are not often used today. Perhaps we can change that... just a thought!
Vocab. 3 W.N. 19 CONTEXT REVEALED
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:39 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Refer back to the previous blog for the definitions of the vocabulary words. They are bold and italicized here so that they are easier to spot!
Ponder the situation of these poor people. Think about it; does Joseph Smith sound like the "enlightened Prophet" as he is so referred to? Personally, it hurts to read parts of this book sometimes and hear of the horrible things happening to these people, and I'm honestly glad that I was born in this time than then.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Refer back to the previous blog for the definitions of the vocabulary words. They are bold and italicized here so that they are easier to spot!
- It was the first open rebellion against any of he Prophet's teachings by his most devoted followers, and he was wise enough to see his mistake, and to rectify it.
- If Smith was not a polygamist, his sons must allow that he was a libertine, or an advocate of free-love principles.
- Very little was said about it openly, until his wife saw something which aroused her suspicions, and she remonstrated with Joseph for having the girls there; but with no effect.
- He used often to argue in this manner while endeavoring to convince some wavering or unwilling victim: "Now, my dear sister, it is true that your husband is a good man, but you and he are by no means kindred spirits, and he will never be able to save you in the celestial kingdom; it has been revealed by the Spirit that you ought to belong to me." This sophistry, strange as it may seem, had its weight, and scarcely ever failed of its desired results.
- Joseph has paid his addresses to Mr. Noble's sister-in-law, a very worthy woman, and had succeeded in overcoming her scruples so far that she had consented to be sealed to him.
- The young girl that Mr. Noble married went to live with his first wife, and, as a matter of course, this arrangement produced the greatest misery to both. Outwardly they were compelled to keep a semblance of regard; but they hated each other with an intensity of hatred that cannot possibly be felt outside of polygamy.
- She was compelled to turn a deaf ear to their entreaties to return with them, and she could not tell them her secret.
- Her mother was nearly distracted when she was obliged to return home without her daughter, heart-broken and disconsolate, and bowed down with shame at her supposed dishonor.
- He was a notorious profligate, and was pronounced by Gentiles who had known him before he embraced Mormonism to be " the greatest villain unhung."
- Joseph's only method of defending himself from Bennett's attacks was to assail him in return. The raven was taunting the crow for being a blackamoor.
- He coupled Bennett's name with that of a lady of high standing in the Mormon community, in the most disgraceful manner, and published the scandal to a large congregation of the Saints, causing the utmost consternation and dismay.
- He "bearded the lion in his den," and defended his wife's character in public, hurling the lie at his leader's head, and incurring anathemas in return.
- Having made this very pleasant announcement, the Revelation goes on to declare that all contract -- matrimonial or other -- were null and void unless ratified by the Prophet: -- "And verily I say unto you, that the conditions of this law are these: ... "
- "... Yet they shall come for in the first resurrection, and enter into their exaltation, but they shall be destroyed in the flesh, and shall be delivered unto the buffetings of Satan unto the day of redemption, saith the Lord God."
- She is told to "receive all that have been given to my servant Joseph." She is forbidden to leave the Prophet, as she had threatened to do if he carried out his "celestial" system... One particular passage is said to refer to a matrimonial scene in which a threat was held out that the life of the Elect Lady should be terminated by poison... It is, however, only right to add that the Mormon exponents of the Revelation say that this passage refers to an offer which Joesph had made to sacrifice his own personal feelings, and to accede to a divorce between Emma and himself.
Ponder the situation of these poor people. Think about it; does Joseph Smith sound like the "enlightened Prophet" as he is so referred to? Personally, it hurts to read parts of this book sometimes and hear of the horrible things happening to these people, and I'm honestly glad that I was born in this time than then.
Vocab. 3 W.N. 19
Posted by rjhmoore at 8:06 AM 0 comments
This weeks words are not the most shocking vocabulary in the world, but interesting nonetheless. Take a look:
* Rectify - to set right; correct
* Libertine - a person who is morally or sexually unrestrained; freethinker in religious matters
* Remonstrate - to say or plead in protest, objection, or disapproval
* Sophistry - a subtle, tricky, superficially plausible, but generally fallacious method of reasoning
* Scruple - an uneasy feeling arising from conscience or principle that tends to hinder action
* Semblance - outward aspect or appearance; a likeness, image, or copy
* Disconsolate - without consolation or solace; hopelessly unhappy; inconsolable
* Entreaty - earnest request or petition
* Profligate - utterly and shamelessly immoral or dissipated; thoroughly dissolute
* Blackamoor - a black person; any dark-skinned person
* Consternation - sudden, alarming, amazement or dread that results in utter confusion; dismay
* Anathema - person or thing detested or loathed
* Verily - in truth; really; indeed
* Buffet - a blow, as with the hand or fist
* Accede - to give consent, approval, or adherence; agree; assent
Most all of these words are pretty depressing, hurtful, or words you wouldn't use in a happy situation. I believe I will give you a couple of sentences in which each of this week's words are contained in my next blog and that might shed some light on the context of them as well as the troubles of the Mormon people.
This weeks words are not the most shocking vocabulary in the world, but interesting nonetheless. Take a look:
* Rectify - to set right; correct
* Libertine - a person who is morally or sexually unrestrained; freethinker in religious matters
* Remonstrate - to say or plead in protest, objection, or disapproval
* Sophistry - a subtle, tricky, superficially plausible, but generally fallacious method of reasoning
* Scruple - an uneasy feeling arising from conscience or principle that tends to hinder action
* Semblance - outward aspect or appearance; a likeness, image, or copy
* Disconsolate - without consolation or solace; hopelessly unhappy; inconsolable
* Entreaty - earnest request or petition
* Profligate - utterly and shamelessly immoral or dissipated; thoroughly dissolute
* Blackamoor - a black person; any dark-skinned person
* Consternation - sudden, alarming, amazement or dread that results in utter confusion; dismay
* Anathema - person or thing detested or loathed
* Verily - in truth; really; indeed
* Buffet - a blow, as with the hand or fist
* Accede - to give consent, approval, or adherence; agree; assent
Most all of these words are pretty depressing, hurtful, or words you wouldn't use in a happy situation. I believe I will give you a couple of sentences in which each of this week's words are contained in my next blog and that might shed some light on the context of them as well as the troubles of the Mormon people.
Death of a Prophet (apologies for the lateness due to the internet error!)
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:39 AM 1 comments
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Joseph Smith is dead, finally. Not to say I was looking forward to it, but it does raise a road block on the path to new discoveries in this story. He and his brother, Hyrum Smith, were killed, or as the Mormons like to say, "martyred," in the Carthage Jail in Nauvoo, Illinois. The cause of his imprisonment was due to criminal acts committed by him and other members of the Church, against Illinois "gentiles" (regular people, non-Mormons). Mormons feared, when Smith was taken to jail, that he would be massacred, but the governor (Governor Ford) refused to add extra security. Thus, Joseph Smith was killed.
Honestly, I believe his death did some good for the Mormon Church and for himself. I think that the only reason the Mormon Church has survived so long is due the fact that their esteemed prophet was killed in the face of religious persecution. Had Smith lived out his natural life, the Mormon Church would have found an increasing number of reasons to NOT believe his "revelations." Personally, I don't believe that he really talked to God and Jesus and decoded the Book of Mormon from brass plates, I believe he made it up for power and attention. In the end, you can kind of see that the revelations made closest to his death were more ludicrous and selfish than the earlier ones. Celestial marriage (polygamy) was revealed to be the holy way, "Thus saith the Lord." Bickering had been occurring between Church saints and other officials and Joseph was desperate to stay on his little pedestal created by his faithful band of followers. Also, testimonies had been made that Smith had made "dishonorable proposals" to the wives of well-known Mormon men long before his polygamous insight. So he made up his latest vision in a bit of a hurry to keep the restless herd at bay. Then he died. The Mormons, so devastated by his loss, were determined to carry on his noble work in his name and in the name of the Lord. Now they no longer expected revelations, but wholeheartedly believed those made by the martyred leader because to say otherwise would be treacherous blasphemy.
Joseph Smith's death was a kindness done unto himself as well, despite how horrible it sounds. Let me explain, or rather, let Ann Eliza Young explain, because the thought that we share is much better put into her clear and scholarly words.
"It is safe to believe that no one man can wear all these 'honors' without growing somewhat dizzy under them; and it is no wonder that the Prophet Smith overreached himself at last, and fell victim to his overweening ambition and stupendous self-esteem, which probably made him believe that he could accomplish impossibilities."
Well said, I think, and quite true.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Joseph Smith is dead, finally. Not to say I was looking forward to it, but it does raise a road block on the path to new discoveries in this story. He and his brother, Hyrum Smith, were killed, or as the Mormons like to say, "martyred," in the Carthage Jail in Nauvoo, Illinois. The cause of his imprisonment was due to criminal acts committed by him and other members of the Church, against Illinois "gentiles" (regular people, non-Mormons). Mormons feared, when Smith was taken to jail, that he would be massacred, but the governor (Governor Ford) refused to add extra security. Thus, Joseph Smith was killed.
Honestly, I believe his death did some good for the Mormon Church and for himself. I think that the only reason the Mormon Church has survived so long is due the fact that their esteemed prophet was killed in the face of religious persecution. Had Smith lived out his natural life, the Mormon Church would have found an increasing number of reasons to NOT believe his "revelations." Personally, I don't believe that he really talked to God and Jesus and decoded the Book of Mormon from brass plates, I believe he made it up for power and attention. In the end, you can kind of see that the revelations made closest to his death were more ludicrous and selfish than the earlier ones. Celestial marriage (polygamy) was revealed to be the holy way, "Thus saith the Lord." Bickering had been occurring between Church saints and other officials and Joseph was desperate to stay on his little pedestal created by his faithful band of followers. Also, testimonies had been made that Smith had made "dishonorable proposals" to the wives of well-known Mormon men long before his polygamous insight. So he made up his latest vision in a bit of a hurry to keep the restless herd at bay. Then he died. The Mormons, so devastated by his loss, were determined to carry on his noble work in his name and in the name of the Lord. Now they no longer expected revelations, but wholeheartedly believed those made by the martyred leader because to say otherwise would be treacherous blasphemy.
Joseph Smith's death was a kindness done unto himself as well, despite how horrible it sounds. Let me explain, or rather, let Ann Eliza Young explain, because the thought that we share is much better put into her clear and scholarly words.
"It is safe to believe that no one man can wear all these 'honors' without growing somewhat dizzy under them; and it is no wonder that the Prophet Smith overreached himself at last, and fell victim to his overweening ambition and stupendous self-esteem, which probably made him believe that he could accomplish impossibilities."
Well said, I think, and quite true.
Vocab. 2 W.N. 19 (apologies for the lateness due to the internet error!)
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Okay, so here is the new and inspiring vocabulary list that I have created this week:
* Licentious - (1) sexually unrestrained; lascivious; lewd. (2) unrestrained by law or general morality; lawless; immoral
* Avowing - to acknowledge openly, boldly, and unashamedly; confess; to state positively
* Aggrandize - to widen in scope; increase in size or intensity; enlarge; extend
* Appropriation - act of setting apart, authorizing, or legislating for some specific purpose
* Instigation - act of urging, provoking, or inciting to some action or course
* Stanch - to stop the flow of (liquid, esp. blood)
* Corroborate - used to make more certain; confirm
* Crimination - a crime
* Vicegerent - an officer appointed as deputy by and to a sovereign or supreme chief
Hopefully these words will be of some use to you during the week!
Okay, so here is the new and inspiring vocabulary list that I have created this week:
* Licentious - (1) sexually unrestrained; lascivious; lewd. (2) unrestrained by law or general morality; lawless; immoral
* Avowing - to acknowledge openly, boldly, and unashamedly; confess; to state positively
* Aggrandize - to widen in scope; increase in size or intensity; enlarge; extend
* Appropriation - act of setting apart, authorizing, or legislating for some specific purpose
* Instigation - act of urging, provoking, or inciting to some action or course
* Stanch - to stop the flow of (liquid, esp. blood)
* Corroborate - used to make more certain; confirm
* Crimination - a crime
* Vicegerent - an officer appointed as deputy by and to a sovereign or supreme chief
Hopefully these words will be of some use to you during the week!
W.N.19 Leader Issues
Posted by rjhmoore at 3:22 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
So reading this book is like spying in on the formation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and discovering all of their dirty little secrets, which is kinda fun :), but at the same time horrifying. Ann Eliza Young portrays Joseph Smith (the founder of the above church) as a Gentile-hating (he calls all "non-Mormons" Gentiles), money-swindling, power-hungry crazy man. OK, maybe not crazy, but the things he does are justification for that title.
Here are some direct quotes from the book to prove my point:
"With the superstition which characterizes this people, they turned every accident or occurrence into some sign from Heaven, and it was always interpreted to promise success to them and confusion to their enemies."
"Houses, barns, and haystacks were burned, men shot, and all manner of depredations committed... probably there was equal blame on both sides; but I have been informed that Joesph taught his followers that it was right, and "commanded of the Lord," for them to take anything they could find which belonged to their enemies, in retaliation for the wrongs which they had suffered at their hands... and as they claim to be the Lord's particularly favored children, they seem to consider this text peculiarly applicable to the situation, and all the excuse they need to give for any irregularities in the way of appropriating other people's property. They are merely coming into their inheritance."
"He (A.E. Young's father who invested all his money in a bank he started with Joseph Smith) was intensely disgusted with the whole proceeding, which, if it had happened in the Gentile world, would have been termed swindling, and Smith would not have been easily let off by the mere calling of names."
"He (Joseph Smith) published his own views on the national policy in a pamphlet, and announced himself as Presidential Candidate. His followers confidently believed that he would be elected. They had no idea that he could fail to attain whatever he attempted."
These are just a few striking quotes that I picked out. If you actually read the book, you get a more in depth view of what Smith was like, and A.E. Young had definitely changed my opinion of him. At first I just thought he was crazy or maybe he really did have a vision, but I wasn't desperate to join the religion. Now I believe that he just wanted attention, money, and power like most everyone does, and he went all out to get them.
Now I do realize that this is one person's point of view and may not be entirely true. However, A.E. Young supports her claims with direct quotes from Smith and other important figures, her education certainly earns her credibility, and the fact that she was born into the religion and married to the leader of it (Brigham Young) makes us see that she knows what she's talking about. Not to mention, she is not overly opinionated on the issue; she in fact mostly just tells us it how it is. So I'll stand firm (at this point) in my position of believing the believable things she says.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
So reading this book is like spying in on the formation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and discovering all of their dirty little secrets, which is kinda fun :), but at the same time horrifying. Ann Eliza Young portrays Joseph Smith (the founder of the above church) as a Gentile-hating (he calls all "non-Mormons" Gentiles), money-swindling, power-hungry crazy man. OK, maybe not crazy, but the things he does are justification for that title.
Here are some direct quotes from the book to prove my point:
"With the superstition which characterizes this people, they turned every accident or occurrence into some sign from Heaven, and it was always interpreted to promise success to them and confusion to their enemies."
"Houses, barns, and haystacks were burned, men shot, and all manner of depredations committed... probably there was equal blame on both sides; but I have been informed that Joesph taught his followers that it was right, and "commanded of the Lord," for them to take anything they could find which belonged to their enemies, in retaliation for the wrongs which they had suffered at their hands... and as they claim to be the Lord's particularly favored children, they seem to consider this text peculiarly applicable to the situation, and all the excuse they need to give for any irregularities in the way of appropriating other people's property. They are merely coming into their inheritance."
"He (A.E. Young's father who invested all his money in a bank he started with Joseph Smith) was intensely disgusted with the whole proceeding, which, if it had happened in the Gentile world, would have been termed swindling, and Smith would not have been easily let off by the mere calling of names."
"He (Joseph Smith) published his own views on the national policy in a pamphlet, and announced himself as Presidential Candidate. His followers confidently believed that he would be elected. They had no idea that he could fail to attain whatever he attempted."
These are just a few striking quotes that I picked out. If you actually read the book, you get a more in depth view of what Smith was like, and A.E. Young had definitely changed my opinion of him. At first I just thought he was crazy or maybe he really did have a vision, but I wasn't desperate to join the religion. Now I believe that he just wanted attention, money, and power like most everyone does, and he went all out to get them.
Now I do realize that this is one person's point of view and may not be entirely true. However, A.E. Young supports her claims with direct quotes from Smith and other important figures, her education certainly earns her credibility, and the fact that she was born into the religion and married to the leader of it (Brigham Young) makes us see that she knows what she's talking about. Not to mention, she is not overly opinionated on the issue; she in fact mostly just tells us it how it is. So I'll stand firm (at this point) in my position of believing the believable things she says.
Vocab. 1 for Wife No. 19
Posted by rjhmoore at 7:43 PM 1 comments
So I've noticed that Ann Eliza Young is very well educated. Definitely more so than me. She uses some words that I have never in my life heard of and her grammar and structure are absolutely beautiful. Not to mention her humor and sarcasm are so subtle yet so obvious that you have to think to yourself, "Hmm! How clever!" However, her expansive vocabulary is the most astonishing to me, so with that said, this is what I've decided: Every week, I will do a vocabulary blog while I'm reading this book. Sometimes I might not find any extraordinary words to wow anybody with and sometimes I may find zillions; depends. But for now, here's what I've got:
* Opprobrious - outrageously disgraceful or shameful
* Indefatigable - incapable of being tired out; not yielding to fatigue; untiring
* Mobocracy - political control by a mob
* Incendiary - tending to arouse strife, sedition, inflammatory
* Buncombe - empty or insincere talk; claptrap
* Depredation - the act of preying upon or plundering; robbery; ravage
* Apostatize - to abandon one's religious faith, political party, principles, or a cause
* Castigation – the act of criticizing or reprimanding severely
* Proselyting - converting or attempting to convert people to different beliefs, religion, etc. (a proselyte is a convert)
These were the ones that caught my eye. I hope they are of interest to whoever reads this blog and be on the look out for future Wife No. 19 vocabulary!
So I've noticed that Ann Eliza Young is very well educated. Definitely more so than me. She uses some words that I have never in my life heard of and her grammar and structure are absolutely beautiful. Not to mention her humor and sarcasm are so subtle yet so obvious that you have to think to yourself, "Hmm! How clever!" However, her expansive vocabulary is the most astonishing to me, so with that said, this is what I've decided: Every week, I will do a vocabulary blog while I'm reading this book. Sometimes I might not find any extraordinary words to wow anybody with and sometimes I may find zillions; depends. But for now, here's what I've got:
* Opprobrious - outrageously disgraceful or shameful
* Indefatigable - incapable of being tired out; not yielding to fatigue; untiring
* Mobocracy - political control by a mob
* Incendiary - tending to arouse strife, sedition, inflammatory
* Buncombe - empty or insincere talk; claptrap
* Depredation - the act of preying upon or plundering; robbery; ravage
* Apostatize - to abandon one's religious faith, political party, principles, or a cause
* Castigation – the act of criticizing or reprimanding severely
* Proselyting - converting or attempting to convert people to different beliefs, religion, etc. (a proselyte is a convert)
These were the ones that caught my eye. I hope they are of interest to whoever reads this blog and be on the look out for future Wife No. 19 vocabulary!
Wife No. 19
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:16 PM 0 comments
Monday, October 20, 2008
This is the title of the book I'm reading now. Please let me warn you that it may take me a while to read because it is a very large book (it looks like a textbook), nonfiction, but very interesting. I've only read a few pages, but my mom is reading it as well (she ordered it herself after hearing about it on NPR but didn't realize how monstrous it was) and has told me about a few things that are discussed.
Overall, it is about Mormonism. The author is Ann Eliza Young, "Wife No. 19" to Brigham Young (the second leader of the Mormon church). The book/story is very old since both Youngs mentioned were alive during the 1800's. Ann Eliza herself was born in 1844. Anyway, I'm getting off track. Ann Eliza apostatized from the Mormon church after being a part of it all her life. She then wrote this book about the trials and truths of the the Mormon religion and her personal experiences with them. She talks about polygamy, how wives were treated, how the leaders acted, etc. etc. The book has 41 chapters on the subject, but she is a very good writer so I'm not worried that I'll get through it. Look for some interesting and controversial blogs on it!
Monday, October 20, 2008
This is the title of the book I'm reading now. Please let me warn you that it may take me a while to read because it is a very large book (it looks like a textbook), nonfiction, but very interesting. I've only read a few pages, but my mom is reading it as well (she ordered it herself after hearing about it on NPR but didn't realize how monstrous it was) and has told me about a few things that are discussed.
Overall, it is about Mormonism. The author is Ann Eliza Young, "Wife No. 19" to Brigham Young (the second leader of the Mormon church). The book/story is very old since both Youngs mentioned were alive during the 1800's. Ann Eliza herself was born in 1844. Anyway, I'm getting off track. Ann Eliza apostatized from the Mormon church after being a part of it all her life. She then wrote this book about the trials and truths of the the Mormon religion and her personal experiences with them. She talks about polygamy, how wives were treated, how the leaders acted, etc. etc. The book has 41 chapters on the subject, but she is a very good writer so I'm not worried that I'll get through it. Look for some interesting and controversial blogs on it!
Finished
Posted by rjhmoore at 4:30 PM 0 comments
Sunday, October 19, 2008
I'm finished with Flowers For Algernon. Surprisingly it was a quick read; perhaps because it was so good. I love the way Daniel Keyes writes it. It is a series of progress reports written by Charlie Gordon, the main character. I've essentially killed two birds with one stone by reading this book. I chose it for my research paper for AP psychology because it obviously hat to do with the mind, but also with experimentation ethics.
You know, if you've read the book, that the doctors and experimenters got permission, not only from Charlie, but Charlie's teacher (at the adult learning center) and Charlie's sister. Now here are the facts: Charlie is in no fit condition to decide whether or not he should put himself under the experimental knife because he can not fully understand all of the risks. Charlie's teacher cannot decide because she is in no way related to Charlie and is not completely knowledgeable on the subject. Charlie's sister has no idea what they plan to do to Charlie either and she hasn't seen her brother in almost twenty years, so who is she to decide? Another question is, should the scientists really be conducting human experiments yet? They themselves still don't know all of the potential outcomes and in the end (when Charlie is a genius), Charlie has to figure it out for them, and he does. These are just some points I might bring up in my paper, which I will probably ask you, Ms. Cassell, to read/proofread if you don't mind.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
I'm finished with Flowers For Algernon. Surprisingly it was a quick read; perhaps because it was so good. I love the way Daniel Keyes writes it. It is a series of progress reports written by Charlie Gordon, the main character. I've essentially killed two birds with one stone by reading this book. I chose it for my research paper for AP psychology because it obviously hat to do with the mind, but also with experimentation ethics.
You know, if you've read the book, that the doctors and experimenters got permission, not only from Charlie, but Charlie's teacher (at the adult learning center) and Charlie's sister. Now here are the facts: Charlie is in no fit condition to decide whether or not he should put himself under the experimental knife because he can not fully understand all of the risks. Charlie's teacher cannot decide because she is in no way related to Charlie and is not completely knowledgeable on the subject. Charlie's sister has no idea what they plan to do to Charlie either and she hasn't seen her brother in almost twenty years, so who is she to decide? Another question is, should the scientists really be conducting human experiments yet? They themselves still don't know all of the potential outcomes and in the end (when Charlie is a genius), Charlie has to figure it out for them, and he does. These are just some points I might bring up in my paper, which I will probably ask you, Ms. Cassell, to read/proofread if you don't mind.
Author's Purpose
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:52 PM 0 comments
Flowers For Algernon is a very good book. It explores the minds and soul of a retarded man made genius and returned to mentally unsound again. Mostly it's pretty depressing but interesting in how the story is told. Overall, the plot is clear (stupid man becomes smart man becomes stupid man who "discovers" himself and aides in scientific research), but I'm still wondering why did the author write this? I really have no idea.
I'm pretty positive it's not an autobiography or biography, only a piece of fiction. But did Daniel Keyes (the author) just wake up one morning and decide to write a gripping, controversial book? It is true that the issue of mentally retarded people is often avoided in normal conversation. Maybe Keyes wrote this because of that, to shed some lights on what it's like. Maybe he wanted people to take some action. He shows us how mentally ill persons are treated and it's not a pretty picture. However, writing a novel about the truths surrounding the issue with fictional people ensures that no one is hurt, but many people are deeply moves. Just a thought.
Flowers For Algernon is a very good book. It explores the minds and soul of a retarded man made genius and returned to mentally unsound again. Mostly it's pretty depressing but interesting in how the story is told. Overall, the plot is clear (stupid man becomes smart man becomes stupid man who "discovers" himself and aides in scientific research), but I'm still wondering why did the author write this? I really have no idea.
I'm pretty positive it's not an autobiography or biography, only a piece of fiction. But did Daniel Keyes (the author) just wake up one morning and decide to write a gripping, controversial book? It is true that the issue of mentally retarded people is often avoided in normal conversation. Maybe Keyes wrote this because of that, to shed some lights on what it's like. Maybe he wanted people to take some action. He shows us how mentally ill persons are treated and it's not a pretty picture. However, writing a novel about the truths surrounding the issue with fictional people ensures that no one is hurt, but many people are deeply moves. Just a thought.
My List
Posted by rjhmoore at 6:32 PM 0 comments
Thursday, October 2, 2008
* Traveling
o Been to: many states, Mexico, and France
o Want to go to: Argentina, Chile, Canada, United Kingdom, Norway, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Italy, Greece, Spain, China, Japan, Australia, Vietnam, Tonga, Bermuda, Puerto Rico, Cuba, etc. (these are my top choices!)
* Read
o Fiction, comedy, drama, romance, mystery, etc.
* Volleyball
* Soccer (for a limited time; I'm not into the whole running thing)
* Dogs (particularly my own!)
* Cats
* Bunnies
* Squishy, micro bead pillows
* Blankets or comforters, depends on my mood (or how cold I am)
* Hot chocolate or hot green tea
* Fire (in the fireplace of course, I'm not a pyromaniac)
* S'mores. I can't get enough of them
* Trains. I love the sound of them. It's soothing and reminds me of the 1920's - 40's and the book Fried Green Tomatoes
* Small towns
* Art
o Pencil drawings
o Painting (scumbling)
o Pen contours
o Pencil contours
o Sculptures (especially clay)
o Finger painting
o ETC.
* Old movies and TV shows
o South Pacific, Get Smart, Brady Bunch, Bob Newhart Show, Magnum PI, WWII movies, Sound of Music, Casa Blanca, Mary Poppins, Ordinary People, Leave It To Beaver, Elvis Presley movies, To Kill A Mockingbird, Wizard of Oz, and the list goes on, and on, and on...
* Love Actually and Titanic are my absolute favorite chick flicks!
* Christmas music
* Christmas trees, ornaments, and presents!
* Apple Pie (it has to be homemade, the crust and everything)
* Thanksgiving (family and food, and usually a game of four square in the driveway or a walk around the neighborhood)
* Pretty dresses (long, short, shiny, dull, glittery, soft, silky, flowing, tight, summer, winter, etc.)
* Fall! I love the colors and the weather and the leaves and the smell of the air.
* Grey's Anatomy, Pushing Daisies, and Boston Legal are my TV shows
* The mandolin (the sound of it and playing it)
* Driving. I want to go on some long country road in fall in an old convertible either with someone or by myself
* Cooking! I love to bake and cook. If I had free time every afternoon, that is what I'd spend my time doing
* Classical music. I like other music too, but you can't ever go wrong with classical music (ok, well there are those songs where you wonder what the composer was smoking when they wrote it). I love to listen to it especially when I'm studying. Vivaldi is my pal!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
* Traveling
o Been to: many states, Mexico, and France
o Want to go to: Argentina, Chile, Canada, United Kingdom, Norway, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Italy, Greece, Spain, China, Japan, Australia, Vietnam, Tonga, Bermuda, Puerto Rico, Cuba, etc. (these are my top choices!)
* Read
o Fiction, comedy, drama, romance, mystery, etc.
* Volleyball
* Soccer (for a limited time; I'm not into the whole running thing)
* Dogs (particularly my own!)
* Cats
* Bunnies
* Squishy, micro bead pillows
* Blankets or comforters, depends on my mood (or how cold I am)
* Hot chocolate or hot green tea
* Fire (in the fireplace of course, I'm not a pyromaniac)
* S'mores. I can't get enough of them
* Trains. I love the sound of them. It's soothing and reminds me of the 1920's - 40's and the book Fried Green Tomatoes
* Small towns
* Art
o Pencil drawings
o Painting (scumbling)
o Pen contours
o Pencil contours
o Sculptures (especially clay)
o Finger painting
o ETC.
* Old movies and TV shows
o South Pacific, Get Smart, Brady Bunch, Bob Newhart Show, Magnum PI, WWII movies, Sound of Music, Casa Blanca, Mary Poppins, Ordinary People, Leave It To Beaver, Elvis Presley movies, To Kill A Mockingbird, Wizard of Oz, and the list goes on, and on, and on...
* Love Actually and Titanic are my absolute favorite chick flicks!
* Christmas music
* Christmas trees, ornaments, and presents!
* Apple Pie (it has to be homemade, the crust and everything)
* Thanksgiving (family and food, and usually a game of four square in the driveway or a walk around the neighborhood)
* Pretty dresses (long, short, shiny, dull, glittery, soft, silky, flowing, tight, summer, winter, etc.)
* Fall! I love the colors and the weather and the leaves and the smell of the air.
* Grey's Anatomy, Pushing Daisies, and Boston Legal are my TV shows
* The mandolin (the sound of it and playing it)
* Driving. I want to go on some long country road in fall in an old convertible either with someone or by myself
* Cooking! I love to bake and cook. If I had free time every afternoon, that is what I'd spend my time doing
* Classical music. I like other music too, but you can't ever go wrong with classical music (ok, well there are those songs where you wonder what the composer was smoking when they wrote it). I love to listen to it especially when I'm studying. Vivaldi is my pal!
Switching Titles...
Monday, September 29, 2008
OK, I've decided that Eat, Pray, Love is too leisurely a read for me. It's true that it is a very leisurely book; you often find yourself drifting off to Italy eating gelato by a fountain on a warm and colorful Roman day before you're jerked back to reality. So I'm taking a break. Well, I'll still be reading it and I may give an update occasionally if something interesting catches my eye as I read, but officially I am now reading FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON by Daniel Keyes. Keep a look out for posts...
OK, I've decided that Eat, Pray, Love is too leisurely a read for me. It's true that it is a very leisurely book; you often find yourself drifting off to Italy eating gelato by a fountain on a warm and colorful Roman day before you're jerked back to reality. So I'm taking a break. Well, I'll still be reading it and I may give an update occasionally if something interesting catches my eye as I read, but officially I am now reading FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON by Daniel Keyes. Keep a look out for posts...
American Pleasure - What is it really?
Posted by rjhmoore at 8:44 PM 2 comments
Elizabeth Gilbert, in Eat, Pray, Love, raised an interesting opinion in chapter 21. She says that "Americans have an inability to relax into seer pleasure... Americans don't really know how to do nothing." She says we are an entertainment-seeking nation, but not necessarily a pleasure-seeking one. In fact, alarming statistics show that we actually enjoy working more than doing nothing. Of course this leads to working too hard and, which Elizabeth puts nicely, leads to "[getting] burned out and [having] to spend the whole weekend in our pajamas, eating cereal straight out of the box and staring at the TV in a mild coma." This may not be working, but it's not fulfilling either.
Do we know how to do nothing for pure happiness? Sure, you can sit down and stare at your feet for a half hour, but does that come across as pleasurable? Can we convince ourselves that we deserve the enjoyment and relaxation from a blank to-do list? Elizabeth remarks on how Italians seem to be masters of "the beauty of doing nothing," or "Il bel far niente" as they say. Their personal goal in life is to... do nothing. Amazing. What a goal. If you asked the average American for their personal top goal, would you expect that answer to be on your list? Most likely you'll get, "Become top CEO! Be the next American Idol! Go to college! Have a family! Travel the world! Write a book! Become the next great painter! Work! Work! Work!" Is it too hard to ask yourself for just one moment of stillness in your life? The point of doing nothing is to free yourself up for doing what you most enjoy, what makes you happy. If one or more of the above ideals are your heart's absolute desire, then go for it, but for the others who just want to have them, do you really want it for yourself or only for the bonus point it gives your ego?
Personally, I believe that extracurricular activities, such as meditation, are the definition of "doing nothing" in the American life. Of course you must schedule your yoga class the Tuesday you don't need to help out with the community garden or the afternoon you have to rush over to give blood before you pickup the carpool group from school, but it is a scientific and statistical fact that people who rest their minds and bodies and/or participate in volunteer activities, are generally happier and healthier people. Who would want anything less that a long, enjoyable life? I think Elizabeth's observation is insightful on how Americans live. Perhaps we should do something about it.
What do you think? Do we work too hard or do we need to observe "il be far niente" more often? If we should do nothing more frequently, what should we do to bring it about?
Elizabeth Gilbert, in Eat, Pray, Love, raised an interesting opinion in chapter 21. She says that "Americans have an inability to relax into seer pleasure... Americans don't really know how to do nothing." She says we are an entertainment-seeking nation, but not necessarily a pleasure-seeking one. In fact, alarming statistics show that we actually enjoy working more than doing nothing. Of course this leads to working too hard and, which Elizabeth puts nicely, leads to "[getting] burned out and [having] to spend the whole weekend in our pajamas, eating cereal straight out of the box and staring at the TV in a mild coma." This may not be working, but it's not fulfilling either.
Do we know how to do nothing for pure happiness? Sure, you can sit down and stare at your feet for a half hour, but does that come across as pleasurable? Can we convince ourselves that we deserve the enjoyment and relaxation from a blank to-do list? Elizabeth remarks on how Italians seem to be masters of "the beauty of doing nothing," or "Il bel far niente" as they say. Their personal goal in life is to... do nothing. Amazing. What a goal. If you asked the average American for their personal top goal, would you expect that answer to be on your list? Most likely you'll get, "Become top CEO! Be the next American Idol! Go to college! Have a family! Travel the world! Write a book! Become the next great painter! Work! Work! Work!" Is it too hard to ask yourself for just one moment of stillness in your life? The point of doing nothing is to free yourself up for doing what you most enjoy, what makes you happy. If one or more of the above ideals are your heart's absolute desire, then go for it, but for the others who just want to have them, do you really want it for yourself or only for the bonus point it gives your ego?
Personally, I believe that extracurricular activities, such as meditation, are the definition of "doing nothing" in the American life. Of course you must schedule your yoga class the Tuesday you don't need to help out with the community garden or the afternoon you have to rush over to give blood before you pickup the carpool group from school, but it is a scientific and statistical fact that people who rest their minds and bodies and/or participate in volunteer activities, are generally happier and healthier people. Who would want anything less that a long, enjoyable life? I think Elizabeth's observation is insightful on how Americans live. Perhaps we should do something about it.
What do you think? Do we work too hard or do we need to observe "il be far niente" more often? If we should do nothing more frequently, what should we do to bring it about?
Abbey of Our Lady of the Holy Trinity - Descriptive Essay
Posted by rjhmoore at 8:05 PM 0 comments
Monday, September 15, 2008
About twenty, wrinkly, balding, stooped men gather here seven times a day, most all over seventy years of age. They have serene, friendly faces, not the stern, overbearing glare of a high and mighty priest, which you might expect. The cylindrical room reminds me of a long log out in the middle of this vast valley. It’s eerily empty and quiet here; the hall could hold fifty monks, yet only eighteen survive today. It’s so simple: two sets of angular wooden benches line each wall, with stubby stools for kneeling in prayer. The solitary stained-glass window, emblazoned with the vibrant image of Christ, presides over the room. Light streams down through high windows at the top of the log with the exception of two lonely light bulbs, each shedding a beam of warm light onto the sets of seats. Silence hangs in the room, almost dead-like; then there resounds a magnificently strident bell, a rude awakening for those that have dozed off. But the sound does not seem shrill or obnoxious. Rather, the clear ring issues a soothing, bracing, perhaps reassuring sensation. One hardly notices the gracefully hushed monks entering the room. Only when the last clang fades away do you notice the soft shuffling of feet on the smooth floor.
All is calm, yet a nervous stench fills the air. The monks stand facing the powerful glass window. Then one begins to chant. His voice, oh how enchanting, how nourishing, how enveloping, curls around you like a slow growing vine. The perfect pitch reaches your ears with reverberating confidence and respect you can feel spilling forth from the worshiping man. You want to close your eyes and sway to the steady rhythm of the echo, yet they open wide at this awesome spectacle. Then all the rest join in, creating a heavenly chorus and continuing the verse in perfect harmony. What an experience, the sound filling the log abbey, repeating slowly as it bounces around the room. It washes over you and fills your ears, like sinking beneath the lapping waves of a sparkling mountain lake. They go on and on, one verse after another, prayer after prayer. Occasionally they turn and bow reverently to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, still singing their gentle words, a few balding heads gleaming in the feeble evening light. They seem to glow, these men, and not just from the light of the sun or the single bulbs from above. Something from the inner folds of their coarse, white robes illuminates their faces. None produces a smile, but from the evident twinkle in their eyes, it is plain to see that these men live happily.
The mantra stops. The mighty bell resumes its paced tolling. The service has ended and the monks have already discreetly started to leave. Then they disappear. Where to, only they know, but a definite presence still hangs in the air, a vague calmness, a peaceful scent. You have been bathed, scrubbed gently and persistently, until all that remains is your being. The outside world cannot touch you.
*Please feel free to leave your thoughts. Thanks!
Monday, September 15, 2008
About twenty, wrinkly, balding, stooped men gather here seven times a day, most all over seventy years of age. They have serene, friendly faces, not the stern, overbearing glare of a high and mighty priest, which you might expect. The cylindrical room reminds me of a long log out in the middle of this vast valley. It’s eerily empty and quiet here; the hall could hold fifty monks, yet only eighteen survive today. It’s so simple: two sets of angular wooden benches line each wall, with stubby stools for kneeling in prayer. The solitary stained-glass window, emblazoned with the vibrant image of Christ, presides over the room. Light streams down through high windows at the top of the log with the exception of two lonely light bulbs, each shedding a beam of warm light onto the sets of seats. Silence hangs in the room, almost dead-like; then there resounds a magnificently strident bell, a rude awakening for those that have dozed off. But the sound does not seem shrill or obnoxious. Rather, the clear ring issues a soothing, bracing, perhaps reassuring sensation. One hardly notices the gracefully hushed monks entering the room. Only when the last clang fades away do you notice the soft shuffling of feet on the smooth floor.
All is calm, yet a nervous stench fills the air. The monks stand facing the powerful glass window. Then one begins to chant. His voice, oh how enchanting, how nourishing, how enveloping, curls around you like a slow growing vine. The perfect pitch reaches your ears with reverberating confidence and respect you can feel spilling forth from the worshiping man. You want to close your eyes and sway to the steady rhythm of the echo, yet they open wide at this awesome spectacle. Then all the rest join in, creating a heavenly chorus and continuing the verse in perfect harmony. What an experience, the sound filling the log abbey, repeating slowly as it bounces around the room. It washes over you and fills your ears, like sinking beneath the lapping waves of a sparkling mountain lake. They go on and on, one verse after another, prayer after prayer. Occasionally they turn and bow reverently to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, still singing their gentle words, a few balding heads gleaming in the feeble evening light. They seem to glow, these men, and not just from the light of the sun or the single bulbs from above. Something from the inner folds of their coarse, white robes illuminates their faces. None produces a smile, but from the evident twinkle in their eyes, it is plain to see that these men live happily.
The mantra stops. The mighty bell resumes its paced tolling. The service has ended and the monks have already discreetly started to leave. Then they disappear. Where to, only they know, but a definite presence still hangs in the air, a vague calmness, a peaceful scent. You have been bathed, scrubbed gently and persistently, until all that remains is your being. The outside world cannot touch you.
*Please feel free to leave your thoughts. Thanks!
Adjectives
Posted by rjhmoore at 8:09 PM 0 comments
Sunday, September 14, 2008
So as Ms. Cassell predicted, Eat, Pray, Love is getting a little slow (kudos to Ms. Cassell for the warning). Don't get me wrong, I'm still thoroughly enjoying it. It's just that she starts on one topic, then goes somewhere else in her past or memory, then somewhere else, and then another place, and then she finally gets back to her original story, that which is the book's main plot. She takes up chapters and chapters (mind you they aren't very long chapters) with this seemingly unimportant gibberish, and you're sitting there thinking, "Will it ever end? Can I see how the rest of Italy is coming along? Do you find another guy? Hello? What the hell* is going on?" *Sorry if that is offensive to anyone. I imagine that all of the sidetracking helps us with something, maybe like getting to know her past, but she could do it so that it's NOT in the middle of another good story.
However, like I said, she does get back and everything is fine again. Though I will praise her (Elizabeth Gilbert, the author) on her ability to describe things. Imagery is her strong point. If there is one friend to a writer in the chaotic writing world, it is adjectives. Adjectives are fantastic! Elizabeth uses so many of them and it really enhances her writing. I think this is what keeps me going through all of the weaving and winding through her life.
Personally, I LOVE adjectives. You will rarely see me writing something without my little Microsoft Word thesaurus panel open. It is so handy. If I need something with more adventure, more spunk for a word like... "crazy!" Here's what Word spits out:
CRAZY:
wild
fanatical
mad
extreme
passionate
outrageous
ridiculous
bizarre
peculiar
eccentric
odd
zany
weird
foolish
idiotic
silly
senseless
unwise
outlandish
See what I mean? If I wanted to say, "In the end, it drove her crazy," I could say instead, " In the end, it drove her absolutely fanatical!" The difference is amazing. Try some of your own words. What is a better adjective for happy? Sad? Angry? Romantic? Jealous? Tired? Dry? Wet? Sticky? Boring? Light, dark, sloppy, gritty, crisp, soft, hard, wonderful, limp, etc. etc. The list goes on! See what you find...
Sunday, September 14, 2008
So as Ms. Cassell predicted, Eat, Pray, Love is getting a little slow (kudos to Ms. Cassell for the warning). Don't get me wrong, I'm still thoroughly enjoying it. It's just that she starts on one topic, then goes somewhere else in her past or memory, then somewhere else, and then another place, and then she finally gets back to her original story, that which is the book's main plot. She takes up chapters and chapters (mind you they aren't very long chapters) with this seemingly unimportant gibberish, and you're sitting there thinking, "Will it ever end? Can I see how the rest of Italy is coming along? Do you find another guy? Hello? What the hell* is going on?" *Sorry if that is offensive to anyone. I imagine that all of the sidetracking helps us with something, maybe like getting to know her past, but she could do it so that it's NOT in the middle of another good story.
However, like I said, she does get back and everything is fine again. Though I will praise her (Elizabeth Gilbert, the author) on her ability to describe things. Imagery is her strong point. If there is one friend to a writer in the chaotic writing world, it is adjectives. Adjectives are fantastic! Elizabeth uses so many of them and it really enhances her writing. I think this is what keeps me going through all of the weaving and winding through her life.
Personally, I LOVE adjectives. You will rarely see me writing something without my little Microsoft Word thesaurus panel open. It is so handy. If I need something with more adventure, more spunk for a word like... "crazy!" Here's what Word spits out:
CRAZY:
wild
fanatical
mad
extreme
passionate
outrageous
ridiculous
bizarre
peculiar
eccentric
odd
zany
weird
foolish
idiotic
silly
senseless
unwise
outlandish
See what I mean? If I wanted to say, "In the end, it drove her crazy," I could say instead, " In the end, it drove her absolutely fanatical!" The difference is amazing. Try some of your own words. What is a better adjective for happy? Sad? Angry? Romantic? Jealous? Tired? Dry? Wet? Sticky? Boring? Light, dark, sloppy, gritty, crisp, soft, hard, wonderful, limp, etc. etc. The list goes on! See what you find...
Personal Narritive - 2ND DRAFT
Posted by rjhmoore at 8:03 PM 0 comments
Sunday, September 7, 2008
My Hide and Seek
Hide and seek has always been a special game for me. You know, you get tired of ring-around-the-rosy and hop-scotch after a certain age, but ask me to play tag or hide and seek today and I’m there! You think I’m enthusiastic now, you should have seen me seven years ago. The cul-de-sac I live on is a kid’s paradise: no cars, no bossy adults, and so many places to run around you couldn’t count them if you tried. This large playground is filled with massive trees and scores of empty trash cans. One can see how the other kids and I were tempted out of our houses on any warm and sunny afternoon.
Our prime hide and seek season was summer. With no school and hardly any curfews, we could keep playing well after the sun went down. But often we played in the hot, sticky afternoons when the cicadas would let out their wretched reminder that was well above 95 degrees outside. Though it wasn’t as if we needing reminding; we consistently dripped like leaky pipes.
The large, black, looming lamppost at the end of the street was Base. Base was what you grabbed onto for dear life if you were being chased. Base was where you teased “It” after making sure that you were really, really safe. Base was also accompanied by two towering Bradford pear trees, which gave us dear, glorious shade when we desperately needed it. The only problem with Base was that it had this nasty habit of soaking up the sun. It would get so hot that we would have to periodically have to let go to rub our little, burned, pink fingers. Otherwise, it was the perfect spot for the most dominant and permanent feature of the game.
Unlike Base, of which there was the one and only, there were a number of places to hide. As we were so small, it was easy to crouch behind leafy bushes, plaster yourself to the side of a great oak tree, curl up in an empty trashcan, lay rigid in the long, itchy grass… the possibilities were endless. What a splendid feeling it was when you found a fresh hiding spot that nobody else knew of! It was your own secret haven, your fort, your hideaway. You were brilliant, a genius even, but as time wore on, that fantastic feeling would begin to fade. You would get lonely, or had to go pee, or your restlessness would give you away. Once everyone else found your special place, it lost its sense of security and privacy and you could hardly use it again without being caught. What a shame to lose something so valuable. The sense of disappointment never plagued us long though; there were a million other hideouts just waiting to be discovered.
We didn’t always play together like nice little kiddies ought to. Now and again we would burst into shrill shouting matches declaring that our version of events was right and the other individual was the cheater. We had our ways of dealing with the arguments on our own, more often verbally than physically. I do remember one occasion when we must have thought physical force was necessary and I ended up with a nice nosebleed. My brother and I weren’t allowed to play outside again until the next week. The altercations never lasted longer than a couple of days however, and we could be seen playing delightfully in the sunshine once again.
Hide and seek is just a kid’s game to some, but to me it’s a wonderful memory. Our game was confined to the boundaries and the occupants of our street, under the age of eleven of course. We had our rules, basic and outrageous, but they fit us like they won’t fit any other group of kids. When we played I was at the mercy of another world, one of action and danger, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
My Hide and Seek
Hide and seek has always been a special game for me. You know, you get tired of ring-around-the-rosy and hop-scotch after a certain age, but ask me to play tag or hide and seek today and I’m there! You think I’m enthusiastic now, you should have seen me seven years ago. The cul-de-sac I live on is a kid’s paradise: no cars, no bossy adults, and so many places to run around you couldn’t count them if you tried. This large playground is filled with massive trees and scores of empty trash cans. One can see how the other kids and I were tempted out of our houses on any warm and sunny afternoon.
Our prime hide and seek season was summer. With no school and hardly any curfews, we could keep playing well after the sun went down. But often we played in the hot, sticky afternoons when the cicadas would let out their wretched reminder that was well above 95 degrees outside. Though it wasn’t as if we needing reminding; we consistently dripped like leaky pipes.
The large, black, looming lamppost at the end of the street was Base. Base was what you grabbed onto for dear life if you were being chased. Base was where you teased “It” after making sure that you were really, really safe. Base was also accompanied by two towering Bradford pear trees, which gave us dear, glorious shade when we desperately needed it. The only problem with Base was that it had this nasty habit of soaking up the sun. It would get so hot that we would have to periodically have to let go to rub our little, burned, pink fingers. Otherwise, it was the perfect spot for the most dominant and permanent feature of the game.
Unlike Base, of which there was the one and only, there were a number of places to hide. As we were so small, it was easy to crouch behind leafy bushes, plaster yourself to the side of a great oak tree, curl up in an empty trashcan, lay rigid in the long, itchy grass… the possibilities were endless. What a splendid feeling it was when you found a fresh hiding spot that nobody else knew of! It was your own secret haven, your fort, your hideaway. You were brilliant, a genius even, but as time wore on, that fantastic feeling would begin to fade. You would get lonely, or had to go pee, or your restlessness would give you away. Once everyone else found your special place, it lost its sense of security and privacy and you could hardly use it again without being caught. What a shame to lose something so valuable. The sense of disappointment never plagued us long though; there were a million other hideouts just waiting to be discovered.
We didn’t always play together like nice little kiddies ought to. Now and again we would burst into shrill shouting matches declaring that our version of events was right and the other individual was the cheater. We had our ways of dealing with the arguments on our own, more often verbally than physically. I do remember one occasion when we must have thought physical force was necessary and I ended up with a nice nosebleed. My brother and I weren’t allowed to play outside again until the next week. The altercations never lasted longer than a couple of days however, and we could be seen playing delightfully in the sunshine once again.
Hide and seek is just a kid’s game to some, but to me it’s a wonderful memory. Our game was confined to the boundaries and the occupants of our street, under the age of eleven of course. We had our rules, basic and outrageous, but they fit us like they won’t fit any other group of kids. When we played I was at the mercy of another world, one of action and danger, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
Italy
Posted by rjhmoore at 7:06 PM 3 comments
Elizabeth (the author of Eat, Pray, Love) has finally left her husband and moved to Italy, one of the three destinations in which she will live one year of her life. Coincidentally, she plans to stay in Italy, India, and Indonesia... three I's. Hmmm... when she notices this, she points out that it seems to be a fairly auspicious sign on a voyage of self-discovery.
Four months in each place equals one year. One year away from the noisy mess that is New York City and one year away from the ugly situation that is her ex-husband and recently ex-boyfriend (remember David the sexy Italian?). She needs a break and a long one. She decides that she wants to go to each place not to explore the countries themselves, but explore one aspect of herself against the backdrop of each country. She wants to "explore the art of pleasure in Italy, the art of devotion in India, and, in Indonesia, the art of balancing the two."
So, first stop, Italy! So far she has eaten "the best gelato in Rome," pizza, and a good, homemade, Italian meal. She took an hour to read one article in an Italian newspaper (but she's extremely proud that she understood it) and spent the rest of her day reading books filled with American poems written in Italian. She's also had a conversation with a little old Italian lady who wants to know why Elizabeth divorced her husband. Overall she's just relaxing and "discovering the art of pleasure."
I love describing Elizabeth's adventures. They seem so spontaneous and fun and just plain fantastic! She makes you want to actually be there, because you almost feel like you really are, going through her troubles and pleasures together. Other authors whose books I've read have done this too, but she is by far the best at applying this technique.
Elizabeth (the author of Eat, Pray, Love) has finally left her husband and moved to Italy, one of the three destinations in which she will live one year of her life. Coincidentally, she plans to stay in Italy, India, and Indonesia... three I's. Hmmm... when she notices this, she points out that it seems to be a fairly auspicious sign on a voyage of self-discovery.
Four months in each place equals one year. One year away from the noisy mess that is New York City and one year away from the ugly situation that is her ex-husband and recently ex-boyfriend (remember David the sexy Italian?). She needs a break and a long one. She decides that she wants to go to each place not to explore the countries themselves, but explore one aspect of herself against the backdrop of each country. She wants to "explore the art of pleasure in Italy, the art of devotion in India, and, in Indonesia, the art of balancing the two."
So, first stop, Italy! So far she has eaten "the best gelato in Rome," pizza, and a good, homemade, Italian meal. She took an hour to read one article in an Italian newspaper (but she's extremely proud that she understood it) and spent the rest of her day reading books filled with American poems written in Italian. She's also had a conversation with a little old Italian lady who wants to know why Elizabeth divorced her husband. Overall she's just relaxing and "discovering the art of pleasure."
I love describing Elizabeth's adventures. They seem so spontaneous and fun and just plain fantastic! She makes you want to actually be there, because you almost feel like you really are, going through her troubles and pleasures together. Other authors whose books I've read have done this too, but she is by far the best at applying this technique.
Eat, pray, love...
Posted by rjhmoore at 2:56 PM 1 comments
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Elizabeth Gilbert is an amazing writer! They way she writes this particular book is so personal and easy-going, you get wrapped up in her words like you do in a warm, cozy blanket. She is open to you, tells you of all her faults and successes. She holds nothing back.
The thing is, this book is about the most claustrophobic and terrorizing times in her life. She tears herself away from a marriage, falls in and out of love with a hot, Italian guy ten years her junior, and doesn't know what to do or were to go. She is completely and utterly lost. I've reached and almost past her tragedy, now it's time for some healing (or more mistakes, who knows?). What she does from here on in is a mystery to me.
One thing is for certain... she knows how to capture her audience. She moves straight to the point with short, easy chapters; an easy read always gets me, but now that I delve deeper into the story, the difficulty level seems to be rising. Her language is that of a close friend or sibling, and she tells you her deep, dark, and somewhat embarrassing secrets. Analogies and metaphors are her strong point. In every description, your sure to find one or the other. Not that they're bad, they're fantastic! It lends a hand to the imagery of the tale. Here's a quote:
"David was catnip and kryptonite to me."
David is the sexy, Italian lover. From that, draw your own conclusions about him and his effect on Elizabeth (the author). Food for thought...
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Elizabeth Gilbert is an amazing writer! They way she writes this particular book is so personal and easy-going, you get wrapped up in her words like you do in a warm, cozy blanket. She is open to you, tells you of all her faults and successes. She holds nothing back.
The thing is, this book is about the most claustrophobic and terrorizing times in her life. She tears herself away from a marriage, falls in and out of love with a hot, Italian guy ten years her junior, and doesn't know what to do or were to go. She is completely and utterly lost. I've reached and almost past her tragedy, now it's time for some healing (or more mistakes, who knows?). What she does from here on in is a mystery to me.
One thing is for certain... she knows how to capture her audience. She moves straight to the point with short, easy chapters; an easy read always gets me, but now that I delve deeper into the story, the difficulty level seems to be rising. Her language is that of a close friend or sibling, and she tells you her deep, dark, and somewhat embarrassing secrets. Analogies and metaphors are her strong point. In every description, your sure to find one or the other. Not that they're bad, they're fantastic! It lends a hand to the imagery of the tale. Here's a quote:
"David was catnip and kryptonite to me."
David is the sexy, Italian lover. From that, draw your own conclusions about him and his effect on Elizabeth (the author). Food for thought...
Friday, May 8, 2009
Personal Narritive- 1ST DRAFT
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Our Hide and Seek
Hide and seek was different for the Candler Oaks Crew. What many people would call a "classic" game was always a whole new adventure to us. The cul-de-sac on my street is a kid's paradise: no cars, no bossy adults, and so many places to run around you couldn't count them if you tried. Since this large playground was filled with massive trees and scores of empty trash cans, who wouldn't be tempted to cry out, "Who wants to play hide and seek!" Obviously we were.
Of course we were dying to run out and play day after day, week after week, but as we all knew...Momma (and school) ruled. So our hide and seek games were mostly limited to the sticky, humid season of summer. Cicadas would occasionally let out their wretched reminder that it was well above 95˚ outside. Though it wasn't like we needed reminding. We consistently dripped like leaky pipes.
The large, black, looming lamppost at the end of the street was Base. Base was what you grabbed onto for dear life if you were being chased. Base was where you teased "It" after you made sure that you were really, really safe. Base was also accompanied by two towering Bradford pear trees, which gave us dear, glorious shade when we desperately needed it. The only problem about Base was that it had this nasty habit of soaking up the sun. It would get so hot that we would have to occasionally let go to rub our little, burned, pink fingers. Otherwise, it was the perfect spot for the most dominant and permanent feature of the game.
Unlike Base, of which there was the one and only, there were a number of places to hide. As we were so small, it was easy to crouch behind leafy bushes, plaster yourself to the side of a great oak tree, curl up in an empty, smelly trash can, lay flat in the long, itchy grass...the possibilities were endless! Oh what a glorious feeling it was when you found a pristine hiding place that nobody else knew. It was your own secret haven where no one could find you. You were brilliant, a genius even! But as time wore on, that fantastic feeling would start to fade as you got lonely, or had to go to the bathroom, or your restlessness would give you away. Sooner or later, your special place would be found, or you’d forget where it was, or it was so ideal that no one would ever find you, and well, everyone wants to be It once in a while.
Playing games with a large group of kids doesn't ever work out perfectly. Especially when everyone’s version of events is right. I'm sure that good ole’ Base would have many stories to tell about two or more of us getting into ear-piercing, shouting matches that would stall the game for a good half hour. We normally dealt with the arguments peacefully unless we started to wage war against each other. Then we’d end up just going home. What a waste to such perfect day.
Most days were good days though. Hide and seek may be just a game to some, but to every kid who’s played it knows that it’s unique every time. It all depends on where you play it and whom it's played by. Our hide and seek was confined to the occupants of our street, under the age of eleven of course. One step past the street sign down at the end of the road and BAM, you were disqualified. We had our rules, basic and outrageous, but they fit us like they won’t fit any other group of kids. When we played I went to another world, one of action and danger, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
*NOTE TO PEER EDITOR: Many “be” verbs and please edit diction, structure, and language viciously! Don’t be afraid of being too mean. Thanks!
Our Hide and Seek
Hide and seek was different for the Candler Oaks Crew. What many people would call a "classic" game was always a whole new adventure to us. The cul-de-sac on my street is a kid's paradise: no cars, no bossy adults, and so many places to run around you couldn't count them if you tried. Since this large playground was filled with massive trees and scores of empty trash cans, who wouldn't be tempted to cry out, "Who wants to play hide and seek!" Obviously we were.
Of course we were dying to run out and play day after day, week after week, but as we all knew...Momma (and school) ruled. So our hide and seek games were mostly limited to the sticky, humid season of summer. Cicadas would occasionally let out their wretched reminder that it was well above 95˚ outside. Though it wasn't like we needed reminding. We consistently dripped like leaky pipes.
The large, black, looming lamppost at the end of the street was Base. Base was what you grabbed onto for dear life if you were being chased. Base was where you teased "It" after you made sure that you were really, really safe. Base was also accompanied by two towering Bradford pear trees, which gave us dear, glorious shade when we desperately needed it. The only problem about Base was that it had this nasty habit of soaking up the sun. It would get so hot that we would have to occasionally let go to rub our little, burned, pink fingers. Otherwise, it was the perfect spot for the most dominant and permanent feature of the game.
Unlike Base, of which there was the one and only, there were a number of places to hide. As we were so small, it was easy to crouch behind leafy bushes, plaster yourself to the side of a great oak tree, curl up in an empty, smelly trash can, lay flat in the long, itchy grass...the possibilities were endless! Oh what a glorious feeling it was when you found a pristine hiding place that nobody else knew. It was your own secret haven where no one could find you. You were brilliant, a genius even! But as time wore on, that fantastic feeling would start to fade as you got lonely, or had to go to the bathroom, or your restlessness would give you away. Sooner or later, your special place would be found, or you’d forget where it was, or it was so ideal that no one would ever find you, and well, everyone wants to be It once in a while.
Playing games with a large group of kids doesn't ever work out perfectly. Especially when everyone’s version of events is right. I'm sure that good ole’ Base would have many stories to tell about two or more of us getting into ear-piercing, shouting matches that would stall the game for a good half hour. We normally dealt with the arguments peacefully unless we started to wage war against each other. Then we’d end up just going home. What a waste to such perfect day.
Most days were good days though. Hide and seek may be just a game to some, but to every kid who’s played it knows that it’s unique every time. It all depends on where you play it and whom it's played by. Our hide and seek was confined to the occupants of our street, under the age of eleven of course. One step past the street sign down at the end of the road and BAM, you were disqualified. We had our rules, basic and outrageous, but they fit us like they won’t fit any other group of kids. When we played I went to another world, one of action and danger, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
*NOTE TO PEER EDITOR: Many “be” verbs and please edit diction, structure, and language viciously! Don’t be afraid of being too mean. Thanks!
Closure
Posted by rjhmoore at 7:50 PM 3 comments
Monday, August 25, 2008
If you read the previous blog, you will get a brief summary of the novel To Swim Across The World. What a beautiful story. Of course, like any decently good read, it has many depressing, stressful, and intense moments. Fortunately, there are some sweet and funny anecdotes to balance out the drama, but overall, this book does not hide the horrors of human suffering.
It does have a happy ending... sort of. Many people talk about having closure at the end of a book. They feel satisfied, relaxed, and usually happy, kind of like after going on a really long run. You're exhausted, but you know it was worth it. This feeling never came to me in this book. Well, that's not completely true. It was like there were many, long, untied ropes hanging from the story in front of me and most were tied off, but there were a few very important things that were not answered. I would have been happy even if they weren't answered in the story, at least a little where-they-are-now-and-what-they-are-doing section would have been nice.
These are the questions that I was left with: Did Heisook ever see her mother again? Did her mother ever find Changi, her brother? Did Heisook and Sei-Young ever return to Korea? What happened to Heisook's father? What happened to Sei-Young's mother and aunt? What did Heisook and Sei-Young do after they got to America? Have they ever gone back to North Korea? Did they ever see any of their old friends, Korean and Japanese, again?
These probably won't make any sense to the average blog-reader, but to those who have read this book, some of these questions may be floating around in your mind as well. This is why the book sort of ended happily for me. I got closure for some issues, but other things were left unfinished.
Monday, August 25, 2008
If you read the previous blog, you will get a brief summary of the novel To Swim Across The World. What a beautiful story. Of course, like any decently good read, it has many depressing, stressful, and intense moments. Fortunately, there are some sweet and funny anecdotes to balance out the drama, but overall, this book does not hide the horrors of human suffering.
It does have a happy ending... sort of. Many people talk about having closure at the end of a book. They feel satisfied, relaxed, and usually happy, kind of like after going on a really long run. You're exhausted, but you know it was worth it. This feeling never came to me in this book. Well, that's not completely true. It was like there were many, long, untied ropes hanging from the story in front of me and most were tied off, but there were a few very important things that were not answered. I would have been happy even if they weren't answered in the story, at least a little where-they-are-now-and-what-they-are-doing section would have been nice.
These are the questions that I was left with: Did Heisook ever see her mother again? Did her mother ever find Changi, her brother? Did Heisook and Sei-Young ever return to Korea? What happened to Heisook's father? What happened to Sei-Young's mother and aunt? What did Heisook and Sei-Young do after they got to America? Have they ever gone back to North Korea? Did they ever see any of their old friends, Korean and Japanese, again?
These probably won't make any sense to the average blog-reader, but to those who have read this book, some of these questions may be floating around in your mind as well. This is why the book sort of ended happily for me. I got closure for some issues, but other things were left unfinished.
To Swim Across The World
Posted by rjhmoore at 3:11 PM 1 comments
Monday, August 25, 2008
To swim across the world. What is the first thing that pops into your mind as you repeat that phrase in your head? I imagine something like a movie scene where there is a collage of different people and different lands in the background with a man in front, swimming as though he's escaping from somewhere, through a vast, dark, choppy ocean.
This is the title of the book I read, To Swim Across The World, and it is about escaping and facing brutal incidents in life. It takes place during WWII and the Korean War, in Korea. It is about boy and a girl, each with a family, that live on two different ends of the country and live two very different lives, that is, until their lives join together. The story pulls and tears at your emotions so that you feel like the events are happening to you, whether joyous or miserable. Trust me, it is one heart-wrenching experience.
Despite the brilliance of the story, it's the title that still grabs me. It encompasses the whole meaning of the book, each and every little anecdote. Both of the characters, Sei-Young (the boy) and Heisook (the girl), experience drastic changes in their childhoods that they handle with great courage, fear, cunning, and respect and it manages to get them "across the world" to the next episode in their lives.
Sei-Young is a poor boy living in Southern Korea while Heisook lives a privileged life in Northern Korea. They both have Christian ministers in their families, resulting in their lives being surrounded by faith in God. This affects many decisions they and their families make. Heisook believed in God her whole life until her older brother made her question his existence. "What about the Japs who are murdering Koreans as we speak? Are they God's creations, too? Is He to blame?... Do you think that you are a privileged Pang with a perfect fortune carved into your silky little palm because you don't question God, Heisook? Because you know your prayers by heart?... Forget about church. Forget about God. If He is so charitable, why does He let this old peddler, practically a beggar, stand here in the cold with paper bags for shoes?" Heisook doesn't know what to do with these words and her faith breaks, changing her affection for the Japanese into dislike, and her belief in God into doubt. She learns many secrets from her parents and her brother that change her whole view of the world. The two wars in her country leave her scarred, both physically and mentally. She crosses over from innocent and naive child to veteran of ugly truths and experiences.
Sei-Young never questions his faith, but he learns the crudeness of being poor in many ways. He realizes that his father spends his money on rice wine to curb his disappointment in life and leaves his two sons, wife, and father hungry every day. Sei-Young witnesses the bully and torture of his grandfather, by the Japanese, because he is a minister and leads other Koreans to God instead of Shinto, the god of Japan. Sei-Young suffers the loss of family members to the Japanese "war effort" and other unfortunate happenings. Many other horrible things occur throughout his time, but he pushes on through to make a better life for himself and his family. He starts as a skinny boy begging for work in the countryside to a strong young man working as the personal secretary to the president of South Korea. It is a large, but wonderful, transition in his life.
Eventually these two people meet, and the sparks fly. They share the horrible and beautiful transformations Korea has faced as they grew up. In the end, they go to America to begin new adventures and start a new life, though they never leave the old one behind. If that in itself plus their demanding and eventful pasts do not classify as "swimming across the world" then I don't know what does.
By the way, Sei-Young means "to swim across the world."
Monday, August 25, 2008
To swim across the world. What is the first thing that pops into your mind as you repeat that phrase in your head? I imagine something like a movie scene where there is a collage of different people and different lands in the background with a man in front, swimming as though he's escaping from somewhere, through a vast, dark, choppy ocean.
This is the title of the book I read, To Swim Across The World, and it is about escaping and facing brutal incidents in life. It takes place during WWII and the Korean War, in Korea. It is about boy and a girl, each with a family, that live on two different ends of the country and live two very different lives, that is, until their lives join together. The story pulls and tears at your emotions so that you feel like the events are happening to you, whether joyous or miserable. Trust me, it is one heart-wrenching experience.
Despite the brilliance of the story, it's the title that still grabs me. It encompasses the whole meaning of the book, each and every little anecdote. Both of the characters, Sei-Young (the boy) and Heisook (the girl), experience drastic changes in their childhoods that they handle with great courage, fear, cunning, and respect and it manages to get them "across the world" to the next episode in their lives.
Sei-Young is a poor boy living in Southern Korea while Heisook lives a privileged life in Northern Korea. They both have Christian ministers in their families, resulting in their lives being surrounded by faith in God. This affects many decisions they and their families make. Heisook believed in God her whole life until her older brother made her question his existence. "What about the Japs who are murdering Koreans as we speak? Are they God's creations, too? Is He to blame?... Do you think that you are a privileged Pang with a perfect fortune carved into your silky little palm because you don't question God, Heisook? Because you know your prayers by heart?... Forget about church. Forget about God. If He is so charitable, why does He let this old peddler, practically a beggar, stand here in the cold with paper bags for shoes?" Heisook doesn't know what to do with these words and her faith breaks, changing her affection for the Japanese into dislike, and her belief in God into doubt. She learns many secrets from her parents and her brother that change her whole view of the world. The two wars in her country leave her scarred, both physically and mentally. She crosses over from innocent and naive child to veteran of ugly truths and experiences.
Sei-Young never questions his faith, but he learns the crudeness of being poor in many ways. He realizes that his father spends his money on rice wine to curb his disappointment in life and leaves his two sons, wife, and father hungry every day. Sei-Young witnesses the bully and torture of his grandfather, by the Japanese, because he is a minister and leads other Koreans to God instead of Shinto, the god of Japan. Sei-Young suffers the loss of family members to the Japanese "war effort" and other unfortunate happenings. Many other horrible things occur throughout his time, but he pushes on through to make a better life for himself and his family. He starts as a skinny boy begging for work in the countryside to a strong young man working as the personal secretary to the president of South Korea. It is a large, but wonderful, transition in his life.
Eventually these two people meet, and the sparks fly. They share the horrible and beautiful transformations Korea has faced as they grew up. In the end, they go to America to begin new adventures and start a new life, though they never leave the old one behind. If that in itself plus their demanding and eventful pasts do not classify as "swimming across the world" then I don't know what does.
By the way, Sei-Young means "to swim across the world."
Favorite Word
Posted by rjhmoore at 9:23 AM 0 comments
Thursday, August 21, 2008
It's hard to think of your favorite word. Off the top of my head I can think of the words that I don't like, for example, "scuttle" or "chunky." The fact that they feel so wrong when I speak them is probably why I think of them so quickly.
Words that I like are different. I say "words" because I cannot just choose one. They have to be strong in meaning and nice to the mouth, not some distorted word like schizophrenia or indefatigably. For instance, "presumptuous." Just say it nice and slow... pres-sump-tu-ous. It rolls off the tongue like a shinny ribbon off a cardboard tube and onto a present. However its meaning is not so delightful; rude and arrogant are just a few synonyms. Not as nice as a birthday gift. Unfortunately, it does seem that the shinny people in life fit the definition quite well.
"Juxtaposition." Try that one on for size. Not as elegant as "presumptuous," but more fun to repeat. Warm up your vocal chords and see how fast you can say it. Now say it very slow in a funny accent. When I first heard it, I thought that it must be a yoga pose name like the "Half Spinal Twist Posture" or "Locust Pose." Not that I can do any of those, but they sound similar. For such a unique name, it has such a simple definition: to put side by side to compare and contrast. So technically you could juxtapose yourself and a yoga buddy to compare whose in better shape.
I guess these two fine words are my favorites... at the moment. No doubt that they will be replaced by newer and fancier words as time goes by, but they will never be forgotten. They will always turn up in some dialog or another.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
It's hard to think of your favorite word. Off the top of my head I can think of the words that I don't like, for example, "scuttle" or "chunky." The fact that they feel so wrong when I speak them is probably why I think of them so quickly.
Words that I like are different. I say "words" because I cannot just choose one. They have to be strong in meaning and nice to the mouth, not some distorted word like schizophrenia or indefatigably. For instance, "presumptuous." Just say it nice and slow... pres-sump-tu-ous. It rolls off the tongue like a shinny ribbon off a cardboard tube and onto a present. However its meaning is not so delightful; rude and arrogant are just a few synonyms. Not as nice as a birthday gift. Unfortunately, it does seem that the shinny people in life fit the definition quite well.
"Juxtaposition." Try that one on for size. Not as elegant as "presumptuous," but more fun to repeat. Warm up your vocal chords and see how fast you can say it. Now say it very slow in a funny accent. When I first heard it, I thought that it must be a yoga pose name like the "Half Spinal Twist Posture" or "Locust Pose." Not that I can do any of those, but they sound similar. For such a unique name, it has such a simple definition: to put side by side to compare and contrast. So technically you could juxtapose yourself and a yoga buddy to compare whose in better shape.
I guess these two fine words are my favorites... at the moment. No doubt that they will be replaced by newer and fancier words as time goes by, but they will never be forgotten. They will always turn up in some dialog or another.
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