Wednesday, June 20, 2012

No, it's not alright


Despite my initial intentions of trying to write a witty yet insightful blog about the books I've read I have managed to write nothing. Well, that's not strictly true. I have written several, incomplete, entries which are now happily cluttering up my desktop, the only reason I haven't posted them is because they are utter crap.

Honestly, I have tried writing something interesting about the use of archetypes as relatable, yet stock characters, in popular fiction but frankly its just terrible. I seem to have lost my insightfulness in the wake of this grey stupor.

So I have decided to do what almost every unsuccessful blogger does and use this opportunity as a form to bemoan my life.

First off my lack of a job.

I'm sure everyone on the planet knows how utterly bollocks it is to go looking for a new job. Not only are you confronted with the frightening statistics of the lack of employment and underemployment being shouted at you from every available media outlet but you must constantly avoid your creditors for all the horrible amounts of money you owe them. Because like an idiot you thought that "getting an education" in a given field would somehow improve your chances of getting a job.

This is of course faulty thinking. Just because you got an education in a given area doesn't make you somehow unique and therefore more employable. There are literally a thousand of other people who have the exact same education with similar or more experience and are infinitely more likeable then you, so there is really no reason you should get that job over Sally Sue there who in her spare time nurses three legged blind cats and is much prettier then you anyway.

Of course everyone says it’s not about what you know it’s who you know that gets you that job so you must network!

Network? Network?! Is there anything more hateful then networking. I have never, ever, met some one who lists networking as a favourite pass time. No one. Most people I talk to about it grimace when ever networking is mentioned but they all put on that waxy rictus of a smile and chirp out "but you gotta do it". 

I don't think any of the potential participants enjoy the whole networking thing. Its basically going up to perfect strangers and pretending to be friends with them in the hopes that they might somehow help you get a job in the near and distant future.

Don't get me wrong I'm a moderately social person and genuinely enjoy meeting new people whether socially or professionally but somehow the specter of "networking" taints the whole interaction. I feel like I'm using them, or that they are using me, for some insidious selfish purpose. Which I suppose when you look at it objectively you basically are. 

Yet this is some how okay, why? In any other scenario using someone for your own end is always seen as bad or wrong yet not in this context. Is that the point? Is the perceived cultural and social morality of society only a thin veneer? Is this the real world, we just use each other up till we get what we want then bugger off?

I'm getting off topic. To much philosophical meanderings leads to nothing but trouble.

Anyway, my point is, looking for a job sucks.

Monday, June 4, 2012

The Poorly Matched Marriage in Cecchi's The Horned Owl


A literary historical essay originally written in 2010
Cecchi, Giovan Maria. The Horned Owl. Translated and edited with introduction by Konrad Eisenbichler. Waterloo, ON.: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1981.


Thursday, May 31, 2012

Falling with Wax Wings

A paper I wrote back in 2008. Hopefully my other post will be just as insightful although probably not as long.


Bechdel, Alison. Fun Home, a Family Tragicomic. Boston: A Mariner Book Houghton Mifflin Company, 2007.


Falling with Wax Wings

Alison Bechdel’s stunning graphic memoir Fun Home is an exploration of the complex relationship with her father as well as the events leading up to his unexpected and mysterious death. Bechdel uses repetitive mythic and literary references to illustrate and characterize her emotional relationship with her father. In almost every chapter of her book Bechdel focuses on a particular text in order to manifest the emotional context that was playing out within her life. For example in chapter six, she explicitly puts forward Oscar Wilde’s works as a metaphor for what was happening in her life at that time. Wilde’s constant double or layered writing, of saying one thing and meaning another, allows Bechdel to parallel this to her own life at the age of thirteen; her Father not telling her the whole truth of why he was going into therapy, her own lie of omission of not telling her mother that she had got her period, all insinuate that there is more going on than what is actually being said. These literary parallels, references and allusions continue throughout the book, from Joyce’s Ulysses to Camus’ A Happy Death to Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, helping to elucidate the complexity of Bechdel’s remembered life and its emotional context. But there is one particular repetitive narrative that is most notable in explaining and casting the relationship between her father and herself, the myth of Daedalus.

From the very outset of the book Bechdel frames her relationship with her father through the myth of Daedalus and Icarus, in which she alternately casts herself and her father as either Icarus or Daedalus. On 4.1, in the second page of the book, Bechdel places her father in the role of Icarus in which she states “in our particular re-enactment of this mythic relationship, it was not me but my father who was to plummet from the sky” (4.1).On the surface this may be seen as simple foreshadowing, an mythic allusion to her father’s eventual death, but if one were to read deeper there is the implication of a fall from grace or perhaps an overpowering sense of disappointment in her father for his emotional distance and the hiding of his sexuality from her for so long. In this instance, it is necessary to understand the allusion that is taking place. In the origin myth of Daedalus he is forced to flee Athens because he has murdered his nephew Talos. The reason for killing his nephew was because Talos was brilliant, almost as brilliant as Daedalus, yet Daedalus’ son Icarus was dull and had always been a source of disappointment to his father. So Daedalus feeling jealous and threatened by his nephew’s brilliance, as well as his overall disappointment by his son’s dullness, results in Daedalus’ murdering his nephew which forces both father and son to flee Athens. The greater context of the myth then brings to the fore the allusion of disappointment Bechdel felt towards her father when she cast him in the role of Icarus.

This line of thinking however is quickly overshadowed by her switching the role of her father from Icarus to Daedalus, in which she expounds upon her father’s ability with home decorating and house restoration, citing him as a “Daedalus of décor” (6.5). But she quick to points out both Daedalus and her father’s darker side with the retelling of the myth of the Labyrinth.  This particular retelling of the myth introduces the narrative theme of concealment that will be echoed throughout the book. Daedalus built the Labyrinth to hide the Minotaur, just as Bechdel’s father built the perfect home and family in order to hide his sexuality. The metaphorical use of the house as the labyrinth is brought home when Bechdel changes the role of her father, again, to that of the Minotaur. On page 12.1 as the narrator explains Daedalus’ inspiration for the labyrinth and we are presented with the figure of Bechdel’s younger self looking up in fear at the dark silhouette of her father after having accidentally broken the stopper for a wine decanter. We see the young Bechdel run through the house as the narrator tells the story of the Labyrinth and its victims. But as her younger self runs out of the house the narrator explains that there was no escape for the Athenian youths in the labyrinth, yet if the house is meant to be the labyrinth then why is Bechdel able to escape? (12.2, 12.3, 12.4)  This particular scene is charged with multiple meanings; young Bechdel can never truly escape the house as a child since she would have to eventually return to it one way or another. Nor can she ever truly escape the house in a metaphorical sense since it is an integral part of her remembered experience. Yet there is once more the allusion to the Daedalus myth, which if one recalls, that after Icarus and Daedalus had been locked in the labyrinth by the king of Crete they, unlike the Athenian youths, managed to escape because of Daedalus’ knowledge as the builder of the labyrinth. However Daedalus is forever hunted by the Cretan king for his escape of the labyrinth. This gives the scene another dimension of meaning that is repeated, albeit subtly, throughout the entire novel; that although one may physically escape something, in this case the house, emotionally remembered experiences never leave. Additionally, it is important to note the interesting implication that once her father is cast as Daedalus, Bechdel by default is put into the role of Icarus, the disappointment or the one who falls short of the perfection the father envisioned. This illustrates the complimentary opposing circularity of the parent being disappointed in the child and alternately the child being disappointed in the parent.

After the introduction of the parent child dynamic, as established through the Daedalus and Icarus myth, the allusion to the myth is not repeated till the very last two pages of the book. Here, as at the beginning of the book, Bechdel portrays herself as a child in order to bring the reader back full circle to the theme of the parent child dynamic, as the narrator expounds about Joyce’s literary and personal life, a complete break from what is going on pictorially, with the exception of 231.2.  There is also the role reversal that has been constantly repeated in relation to this myth. In 231.3 Bechdel asks “What if Icarus hadn’t hurtled into the sea? What if he’d inherited his father’s artistic bent? What might he have wrought?” (231.3). The implied question is about her relationship with her father and what it might have been like if he had not died when he did. Had he not died would their father daughter dynamic be irrevocably changed or would it remain the same? An impossible question with no definitive answer either way, which leaves the reader with a sense of incompleteness perhaps meant to mirror Bechdel’s own loss. Yet on page 232.2 Bechdel once more switches the role of Icarus. She inverts Icarus’ tragedy rewriting it so that in her “tricky reverse narration…he was there to catch me when I leapt” (232.2). This particular passage is notable for two reasons; it insinuates an acceptance on Bechdel’s part over her father’s death and the knowledge that although he may be physically gone he is still an integral part of her both emotionally and perhaps spiritually. There is also the interesting circularity between the pictorial representation of them both on page 4.1 and 232.2. In each instance Bechdel’s younger self is falling or jumping with her father, his arms outstretched, ready to catch her. A graphic representation of the ultimate role and relationship between parent and child, that no matter how vast the distance between you emotionally or physically your parent will always be there to catch you.

The complexities of the parent child relationship are infinite, and nearly impossible to articulate with infallible accuracy. But Bechdel’s makes a very good attempt in her use of repetitive mythic and literary allusions, coupled with circular and parallel illustration allowing her to emphasize and characterize her emotional relationship with her father. Although ultimately there is no real resolution as to whether or not her father committed suicide there is a kind of emotional conclusion, in that she forgives her father for his short comings, his lies, and distance, moreover she accepts his death and understands that it does not mean the end of their emotional bond as father and daughter.



New Beginnings



This blog has been created in an attempt to keep my little mind active. I have recently graduated from my Master’s in Library and Information Science[1] and am in that lull period between school and finding a real job. This has put my brain into a state of disconcerting lethargy. So in order to try and remedy this situation I have decided to do something I haven’t got a chance to do for a very long time, read for pleasure!

However, because in the last few weeks it has become clear that reading for pleasure is not enough since I have, apparently, become so institutionalized by the academic world that it is not sufficient to simply read books but I must also write about the books I’ve read. So I figured if that’s where my impulses lead me then why not, I have the time (between applying to jobs of course).

So that is what this blog is essentially going to be about, me reading books then giving reviews on them, I might throw in the odd hastily written university essay as well because I think its good and takes up space but you don’t have to read those. In fact I’d be surprised if anyone read this. It’s really more for me then for you. But if you are reading it I do hope you enjoy the blog and please feel free to leave a comment, or not, it’s really up to you.


[1]Technically, because I graduated from the University of Toronto’s Faculty of Information I have a MI or “Master of Information”, which, basically, is the exactly the same thing as a Master of Library and Information Science or MLIS (really its all just about branding these days), but if you say “Master of Information” no one has any idea what your talking about so it just makes more sense to say you have a MLIS.