"Coming Home Again" by Chang-rae Lee

 "Are they sleeping? Or kissing? Are they all right?"

This story, while written as a straightforward narrative, has a lot to say about the parent-child relationship and the concept of growing up. The narrator is a good representation of the child in our modern world, especially one of non-white parentage. He progresses through his life aiming for success - leaving home for school at age fifteen -  and not really looking back until later. That's not to say it was his fault; his mother sent him to school, and he went along with it. In order to survive in this world, you have to adapt yourself to society's expectations and standards, and staying with your parents is not one of them. This is something with which the mother struggles throughout the story, and that the narrator discovers after the fact. Parents often will hide their struggles with you growing up, and choose your success over their desire to remain a family. The child only finds out about this after he or she grows up. "Coming Home Again" does a great job showcasing that dynamic.

The quote above is the last line in the piece, and it shows how the narrator still doesn't fully understand how his parents feel. His mother was upset by seeing her child go off and be without her, and his father was too. The narrator, being the child, is unable at this point to fully understand the depth of his parents' feeling of loss at him leaving. He primarily saw Exeter as his path to society and success. 

Another interesting theme in this piece is that of breaking gender stereotypes. There are multiple instances of unexpected actions based on gender. Near the beginning, the mother says to her son that he should go outside, because the kitchen wasn't his place. Later, though, the son is the one doing all the cooking. Instead of becoming the man who can't be seen cooking, he looked up to his mother and aspired to be like her, despite the stereotypes. There was also the basketball scene, where the son expects his mother to go play with his sister, but instead she shows him her basketball skills. Again, we find broken gender boundaries. This seems to exemplify how the son sees his mother. She is not confined or defined by the expected rules of her gender; she is his mother, and more well-rounded than that. 

As a whole, this is a lovely and nostalgic piece. As a reader, I could feel its authenticity and its relevance, despite my life not being much like this man's. It's written in such a way that anyone could connect it to their own life.

"The Cariboo Café" by Helena Viramontes

"Because we are going home. My son and I."

Out of all the stories I've read, this one is written in possibly the most unique perspective. It shifts between three first-person characters -- Sonya, the owner of the café, and the mother -- and a third-person narrator. Each character tells a part of the story, never chronologically overlapping. What makes this shifting of perspectives interesting, though, is the information that Viramontes leaves out in each perspective. We start with Sonya, and are told about her and her brother walking around the city and ending up in the café. Then, we are told from the perspective of the café owner about a little girl and boy with a woman, whom he presumes to be their mother. There are hints that the kids are Sonya and Macky, such as their age and her protectiveness, but we have no idea who the woman is -- she seems to have appeared from nowhere. This makes it all the more interesting when the café owner finds out that the kids have been reported missing. 

With gaps of information like that one, the story is told without directly being told. We are told about two kids lost in the city, about a café owner's moral dilemma, and about a mother's longing for her son, and we must connect the dots to figure out what is actually happening.

The detail I find most interesting is the mother's conviction that Macky is her son, Geraldo. We know that she is desperate to get her son back, but the question the story doesn't answer is whether or not she is aware that Macky is not her son. My interpretation is that she is aware, but is very delusional in her misery and chooses to ignore that fact. She has a gap in her life that can only be filled by her son, and conveniently, these two children, one of them a boy her son's age, happen to be wandering nearby. The mother is a very interesting character in this way; she is so deeply devoted to her delusions that she fights with the police over a little boy she doesn't actually know. It makes an interesting statement about the lengths to which people will go to heal heartbreak -- pretty damn far. The quote above is one that really hit me, and defines the mother's character well. All she wants is for her and her son to go home. The minor detail that Macky is not her son is irrelevant, because she is so desperate. It's sad and a bit crazy at the same time. 

True to its indirect style, the story leaves the ending open. You get the feeling that the mother has lost, but what will she do next? Will she simply continue looking for a replacement Geraldo? Will she herself get taken away by the police? And what about Sonya and Macky? My question from the start was why they were wandering in the first place -- did their parents forget them? Clearly there was somebody waiting for them, since the news that they were missing went out so quickly, but why were they alone in the first place?

"Seventeen Syllables" by Hisaye Yamamoto

"Rosie, covering her face, began at last to cry, and the embrace and consoling hand came much later than she expected."

This story paints an interesting picture of the effect that parents have on their children. The story starts off showing the disconnect between Rosie and her mother; their speaking different native languages is representative of their differing lifestyles and views. Throughout the story, Rosie witnesses trouble between her parents; her father does not very much approve of her mother's deep interest in haiku. What makes this conflict more interesting, though, is the fact that during all of this, Jesus reveals feelings for Rosie.

Rosie is very unclear and probably unsure as to whether or not she reciprocates Jesus' feelings. She runs away after he kisses her, and hides from him the next day when they are working. At first glance, this seems like a basic reaction to the girl's first romantic encounter, but the unsureness could also be representative of confusion caused by her parents' rocky relationship. 

Then, at the end, Rosie's mother tells her the unhappy story of how she ended up with her husband, and tells her never to marry, leading into the quote at the top of this post. Upon seeing that Rosie didn't quite agree with her mother's views, the mother comforts her daughter, but reluctantly. She had hoped she could pass on her wisdom as well as her language, but neither seemed to get through to Rosie, and that disappoints her.

Rosie's unsureness in her potential relationship with Jesus could have been caused by her parents' less-than-perfect relationship, exemplifying and somewhat serving as an allegory for the way the lives of the parents can influence those of their children.

The story also raises a question of art versus productivity, and different viewpoints of the world. Rosie's father shows strongly work-oriented opinions and values, while her mother places a strong value on the art of haikus. The two cannot seem to agree to disagree on the subject, and so allow it to become a rift between them. This is representative of how we as a society can't always seem to balance art with objective work, and must consider them separate things. There is often, in the modern world, a conflict between what we love to do and what we have to do. Many people struggle to balance or combine the two, much in the way Rosie's parents can't seem to come to a middle.

"Saboteur" by Ha Jin

"'For the first time Fenjin thought of Mr. Chiu as an ugly man.'" 

 

This story has a very nice theme involving the loss of faith in government (and, through that, in people as a whole). At the start, Chiu is fairly trusting. He is willing to overlook the fact that the police officer dumped tea on his feet and lied about it, because he has faith that this officer is an outlier, and that the system as a whole will be fair and rational about the situation. Chiu himself has that innocent, logical mindset at the start. Instead of making assumptions based on the one officer, he chooses to hope for the good.

Chiu's quality of seeing the good in things is displayed through metaphor in the paragraph about bedbugs. Ha Jin writes that Chiu is afraid of ticks, mosquitoes, and cockroaches, but not bedbugs or fleas, and that he was never severely bitten by them the way his colleagues were. This seems to be symbolic of the fact that Chiu is not bothered by the realities of the corrupt government; he manages to maintain his faith and innocence where others might not have. 

 

Eventually, though, the officers manage to break him down. Their incredible unfairness toward Fenjin is what breaks Chiu down. It's interesting to note that the injustices directed at Chiu himself did not hurt him significantly; he did not lose faith in the system until he saw it harm a friend of his who he knew was trying to do good. This suggests that Chiu was unselfish.

 

When he finally did break down, though, Chiu turned around completely, going so far as to poison innocent civilians. This is where the quote above comes in: Chiu's change of faith made him an uglier person. 

 

As a whole, this story maps a man's loss of faith. He endures many significant injustices and still holds his faith, choosing to believe in the good and rationality of other people. But, when he sees his friend harmed, he is woken to the unfair truth, and becomes bitter. It's a very sad but commonly true storyline; Chiu's action of giving other people hepatitis is representative of the cold and unforgiving mindsets people will fall into when they are disenchanted by something in which they once strongly believed.

"Brokeback Mountain" by Annie Proulx

"There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it." 

This was a very poignant story. All you really hear about Brokeback Mountain is the sex scenes, often in a very derogatory way. Personally, I had negative connotations associated with the story because of word of mouth before reading the story. They were pretty detailed, but nobody complains about the heterosexual one, which is arguably described in more depth. Just goes to show how people will let judgmental mindsets take away from a great story.

The story presents a solid conflict between love and duty. Ennis and Jack know they have something, but they don't acknowledge it until after they're both married with children. As such, they know they must stay where they are. It's a very sad but universally relevant plot point: the love that can't be, if you will. 

However, you have to question what the "thing" between Ennis and Jack really is. On Jack's end, it seems to be love. He wants to be with Ennis, to live their lives together. Ennis, on the other hand, is too afraid of what people will think (although he does have fair reason, which I will get to later). So, the love vs. duty theme can be broadened to love vs. fear. Jack is relatively fearless. His father said that he had been planning to live with a different man, before he died. It would seem that he ends up dying because of his determination to be himself, if Ennis' thought that the locals killed him is true. Even before then, he always wanted to go off elsewhere with Ennis; he wanted the freedom to be who he was.

Social judgment is another prominent theme. Almost everything Ennis did (and didn't) do was because of what everyone else wanted. He stayed with Alma because she expected him to, and because living with Jack would be frowned upon by others. Even after she left him, the child support payments kept him from freedom. His only actions that seemed to be motivated by what he wanted were his trips with Jack. Through the social judgment theme, Proulx makes a strong commentary on public view of homosexual people. It wasn't illegal or harmful for two men to live together, but at the time, it would mean literal social suicide. Today, we as a society take a less violent stance, but often the basic ideology of "different is bad" still remains. Gay people still have to formally "come out," and they are still judged for who they are. The aforementioned reaction to the gay sex scene says it all.

"Everything That Rises Must Converge" by Flannery O'Connor

"He would have liked to teach her a lesson that would last her a while, but there seemed no way to continue the point. The Negro refused to come out from behind his paper"

 

Julian is a character of great pride, but not much spirit. His relationship with his mother has a fairly typical theme -- she has given him all he has and wants him to love her, while he just wants his own identity and freedom. At the start, it seems as though Julian is in the right here. He is described as intelligent and forward-thinking, embracing social change and bored with the frivolity of the world, which he primarily sees in his mother. And his mother is frivolous, and struggles more than we in retrospect feel she should with the concept of integration. She cares deeply about images

 

What Julian lacks is empathy. Racism is a terrible thing that should be done away with in all situations, and the mother is certainly racist. However, she grew up being told that this racism was right, and as such, she struggles to understand black people as a whole. And as for the obsession with looks, that's also a value system she was likely trained into. Society cares about looks, and she tries to work with society in order to achieve the best possible life for her and her son.

 

Early on, Julian appears to be in the right; he takes on the position of supporter to the oppressed. But all of his supposed attempts at openmindedness are really just thinly-veiled attempts to make his mother angry. He tries to use black people as a means to the end of upsetting his mother. As seen in the quote above, he takes a disconnected and unsympathetic stance on the black man's role in his mission. He assumes that all nearby black people should be ready and willing to play into his petty game with his mother. Sure, Julian has progressive ideas in that he doesn't think blacks and whites should be separated, but that doesn't mean he is any more genuinely welcoming than his mother is. He patronizes the black people; he tries to use them as pawns.

 

When it comes down to it, the main action here is the psychological battle between Julian and his mother. The black people, who Julian claims to be the focus of the dispute, are marginalized. Through that marginalization, we see the theme of the story: the mistreatment and judgmental perception of black people. In the end, Julian's mother collapses and suddenly he is affectionate toward her and afraid of losing her, which serves to illuminate the uselessness of his attempted rebellion and how disrespectful his perspective on black people really is.

"The Voorman Problem"

"We're going to change positions. You can juggle time, gravity, waves and particles. You can sift through the trash cans for tiny specks of originality. You can watch glaciers form and continents pillaged in your name..."

I don't know what I was expecting coming into this film, but this wasn't it. I knew it was about an inmate who thought he was a god, and that Martin Freeman's character was investigating him. I might have expected a Silence of the Lambs sort of deal, where it's a look into the psychology of the criminally insane. I did not expect Voorman to actually be a god.

This film presents a very interesting take on the concept of gods. The typical monotheist God figure is some type of benevolent judge, who determines right from wrong and watches over us from a separate plane of existence. But religions such as those have always left room to question why it is that this god created mankind and the universe -- it seems a fairly pointless endeavor. The Voorman perception of God is that of a being who created the universe as his plaything, as a means of entertainment for himself. This is a really interesting portrayal; the all-powerful but slightly mad god. He's driven himself crazy by living in a world that he controls and therefore can never truly be a part of. It's kind of funny when juxtaposed against the Christian god; one has a plan for all humans and is organizing things for the best, while the other is just messing around in whatever way pleases him. In a sad sort of way, the Voorman god seems a bit more likely to me.

What I wonder, though, is what happens next. In the quote above, it sounds as though Voorman, by switching places with the doctor, is giving him all of his godly powers. Will the doctor become the new Voorman? Does he now have the power to wipe out countries on a whim? And if so, what will he do with that? We know he's not about to get out of the prison, and will probably get shipped off to the asylum if he doesn't stop shouting about being a doctor. It also brings up the question of whether Voorman was always a god. Was he in a similar position to the doctor, with his power transferred to him?

All in all, I love the concept of the omnipotent, omniscient god being a madman. Not so in love with the filmmaking -- the story feels rushed and far too simple for such a creative subject -- but it makes you think.

"It Pours" by Tim Parrish

"Y'all know. When it rains it pour. Can't argue that, can we?"

This is basically a story about sadness and awareness of the horrors of the world. The ending is absolutely my favorite part, when the narrator's father goes to help his neighbor, and, upon returning home, finds that the rainwater got into their house too. He seems to lose himself and become almost giddy, saying that when it rains it pours. I find this to be a very realistic image of a person in his situation. Faced with a son suffering at war, a friend lost in grief, and a terrible rainstorm, his cold, hard demeanor breaks away into delusional happiness. I've experienced this -- when you reach a point of sadness and misfortune and stress, you can kind of break, and start laughing or, in the father's case, pirouetting across your waterlogged living room. It feels like a survival mechanism, like a runner's second wind. It's this wave of energy you get when you hit rock bottom, and it's kind of beautiful in a way. The way the father is acting is a bit scary but so believable and real that I can't help but love it. It shows people's innate ability to power through things; even at the very rock bottom of sadness, when he is relying on basic tasks around the house to keep him productive and moving, we break into this almost carelessness, this moment of "everything has gone to shit so why not literally dance in the rain?" that, despite its terrible causes, is beautiful in its own way.

I also really like the multiple mentions by the narrator of mildew growing in his room -- it serves not only as foreshadowing to the massive storm approaching but also as a metaphor for the troubles he's beginning to see in the world. Before he heard Bob's tape, he didn't even think his brother was being shot at, let alone disposing of the dead and seeing people killed. It's a loss of innocence.

There's an interesting comparison to be drawn between Mr. Ramos and his car and the narrator's father bleaching the house. They need these mundane, somewhat unnecessary tasks to keep them grounded and distract them from the terrible places where their sons are. It's the physical, aesthetic tasks that keep them in the world and grounded, and it's sad to see Mr. Ramos lose that, because it seems to have been the only thing keeping him grounded like that.

"SQ" by Ursula Le Guin

"He said: 'An asylum means a place of shelter, a place of cure. Let there be no stigma attached to the word 'insane,' to the word 'asylum,' to the words 'insane asylum'! No! For the asylum is the haven of mental health...'"

Mental health is an incredibly important and increasingly salient topic in our current society. Kids are being put on ADHD medications, having a therapist is a fairly common thing, etc. etc. And many people believe that we are overmedicating, overdiagnosing, and that people should just get over their issues. Now, I'm sure there are many improperly diagnosed mental illnesses out there, and there is controversy over whether ADHD is something we should be medicating in children, but if a treatment or medication genuinely improves someone's life, should they not take advantage of it? 

This is why I was unsure how I felt about this story at the beginning. It appeared to be a satire on the prevalence of mental illness treatment, suggesting that the treatment is negative. The style of writing suggested, through passages like the one quoted above, that Dr. Speakie was a monster of sorts, taking the people away from themselves and locking them away for "treatment." I sympathized with the words being said, but felt that they were being used satirically. 

However, the theme of the story takes a significant turn as the plot progresses. First, World SQ scores continue to rise, and more and more people choose to be and work in the asylums instead of living in the outside world. The asylums gain farmland, resources and general autonomy. Meanwhile, the ever-shrinking population on the outside, including Mrs. Mary Ann Smith and, for a time, Dr. Speakie, continue to struggle to separate themselves from the "insane." Eventually, Speakie breaks and admits to be incredibly insane by the criteria of his test. 

The people on the outside seem to be followers (Mrs. Smith is incredibly sheep-like and blindly follows everything Speakie says, the janitor is straightforward and seems to enjoy his simple life), and the people inside the asylum seem to be leaders. The rebels in Australia had very high levels, and all they wanted was freedom. If the desire for freedom is considered insane, then only the leaders and independent and imaginative thinkers would have high SQ scores. These are the people being put into asylums, which are becoming the more pleasant and thriving place to be. 

On the outside, Speakie struggled to deny his so-called insanity, because he seemed to feel it was wrong to be a free thinker. He internalized and tried to hide his individuality so much that he became genuinely insane.

A possible theme here could be that the people we classify as crazy, as outsiders, insane, are really the ones gifted with creativity and the capability for independence. They shouldn't be hidden away or squandered, because they are the ones with potential and strength. The story isn't criticizing the improvement of lives through treatment, like I originally thought; it's criticizing the stigma around mental illness and the concept that sanity means following the leader.

"The Most Dangerous Game" by Richard O'Connell

"'Here in my preserve on this island,' he said in the same slow tone, 'I hunt more dangerous game.'"

 I was not expecting this story to be about people-hunting. I had heard the title "The Most Dangerous Game" before, and had seen the movie poster, but I assumed it was about some sort of game set up by an old billionaire -- something along the lines of a book I read in middle school, "The Westing Game." Upon reading that by "game," the author means "animals to be hunted," I have to appreciate the wit. That's an interesting play on words, whether or not it was intentional. 

As I read, General Zaroff's little hints as to what he does became clearer and clearer. He refers to the people he hunts as a type of animal, which makes his motives unclear for a while. The quote above is an example of that -- he's enjoying himself, making these jokes that are going over Rainsford's head. This is the first step to understanding Zaroff. He is an old man who lives alone, save his dogs and Ivan, and spends his time entertaining himself. His own wit is all he has to live with, and he is getting bored with it. He wants a challenge, such that none of his "animals" have yet provided him. And if they have, he's still managed to best them. 

Zaroff appears at first to be a predator, living for and loving the kill. However, he is a little more complex than that. He likes the challenge that hunting people gives him, but there is a part of him that wants to lose his game. The game isn't a one-time thing for him; when he wins, he simply moves on to the next one, hoping for a challenge. But he knows that the only thing that would provide him a challenge is the kind of person who would elude him and kill him. So, it becomes clear that General Zaroff has a bit of a death wish. It makes you wonder about his character, really -- he's so detestable, kidnapping and hunting humans for sport. But you have to wonder what pushed him to this point. He must have such a sad existence if he is so bored with the world as to need this strange, twisted activity just to feel something. It seems as though his hunting is also an elaborate and kamikaze-esque death wish. 

At the end, when Rainsford surprises Zaroff in his home, O'Connell writes, "The general sucked in his breath and smiled. 'I congratulate you,' he said. 'You have won the game.'" Zaroff smiled. He was prepared for this moment; he knew it could come at any time and was ready to accept it.

A question to end on -- did Zaroff plan for Rainsford, an apparently well-known hunter, to wash up on his shore? Or did he just get lucky?

"God of Love" by Luke Matheny

Fozzie: "What's this dish?"

Ray: "It's chicken pot pie, Pennsylvania-Dutch style."

Fozzie: "Doesn't she like seafood?"

I had actually watched this film before, in my freshman year film production class, and it's one of my favorites. I love its creativity, of being a sort of mythological origin story for the god of love, but without announcing itself as such until the end. My other favorite aspect of it is its social commentary.

Ray was head over heels for Kelly, but she didn't feel the same. By just about any rulebook, he should have stopped there, out of respect for himself if not for her. But frankly, he didn't really care that she didn't feel the same; he had his mind set on changing her. In the quote above, Ray's friend Fozzie points out that the food Ray was planning for his date with Kelly wasn't what she liked. This is the most direct example of how Ray disregards Kelly's actual opinions. While she's under the effects of the love dart, he spends his time trying to impress her, and enjoying the attention she gives him. It's clear that that's all he really wants -- her attention. Not until the end does Ray realize that Kelly should be with Fozzie, the one who really does care about her.

This is a very common issue in relationships in the world today, where they aren't based on love, but rather on a desire for possession. We want someone to want us, and so we focus on gaining their attention, but we don't actually think about what the other person wants. A relationship between Kelly and Ray would be shallow and short-lived, because it's only skin-deep. Ray, as we see at the end, is better suited to aid others while, on a personal level, spending some time on his own. This seems representative of how we need to learn and understand ourselves before we can love someone else.

"The Story of an Hour" by Kate Chopin

"When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease -- of the joy that kills."

This piece repeatedly broke my expectations. I expected existentialism, maybe a story about Mrs. Mallard falling into some form of depression or finding a new life after her husband's death. I didn't expect the happiness, but I find it very interesting and I might even agree with it in her situation.

Rather than falling into a depression at the news of her husband's death, it seems that Mrs. Mallard is falling out of one. She becomes almost giddy, hopeful and excited for her future of freedom. What's really interesting about this reaction is that she wasn't quite unhappy in her marriage. She describes how he has never looked at her with anything but love, and how she had sometimes loved him too. But she seems to have felt restricted by that marriage, by that very love. "There would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself," the narrator says. While there had never been anything significantly harmful about their relationship, it had become an obligation, a set of rules and limitations within which she had to live. 

But now, despite what was such an objectively great tragedy, she felt happy again -- "...she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window." She suddenly found herself free of the restrictions that she hadn't realized existed, in much the way that a person getting glasses for the first time might suddenly realize how much of the world they've been missing. 

Then, just as suddenly, it all comes crashing back down when her husband walks through the door. Suddenly the freedom she didn't know she wanted had been taken back from her, suddenly all of the restrictions had returned. And apparently, that shock was enough to give her a heart attack. I find it funny that the news that "should" have broken her heart actually gave her great joy, and the news that "should" have given her great joy actually broke her heart. This story does a great job of painting the differences in perspective, particularly with respect to relationships; where some see support and love, others see restriction. What is terrible for one person may be great for another, and vice versa.

What I wonder is whether Mr. Mallard, after Mrs. Mallard's actual death, had the same epiphany of freedom. Did he grieve, or did he explore?

"The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas" by Ursula K. Le Guin

"But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas."

I'd like to start off talking about the tone used in the narration of this piece. It's told in third person, very removed and almost coldly descriptive. The narrator describes without truly expressing emotion, although they occasionally seem to know more than they let on.

The people of Omelas live life happily at the expense of one small child who lives in misery in a basement. They are all aware of its mistreatment, and go to see it at least once in their lives. It becomes the object of their emotions. In their lives, they have general peace. Things are good, there is no war, everyone seems to have just what they need. In a life like that, emotion grows scarce. When there is nothing to want and nothing to need, the people have nothing to make them feel true emotion. This is where the child comes in. It is there so that the people of Omelas may feel sad for it, or angry for it. Then, as they are told that there is nothing they can do about it, they convince themselves that that is true. On pages 81-82, the narrator says, "But as time goes on they begin to realize that even if the child could be released, it would not get much good out of its freedom... Their tears at the bitter injustice dry when they begin to perceive the terrible justice of reality, and to accept it."

Most of the people can convince themselves that it's okay for the child to live like this, because they assume that that's just how things are. The world is a certain way, and it would affect their standard of living to change the child's life, so why not let it be? They even convince themselves that the child is happier this way. 

But then there are the ones who walk away. These are the people who realize that they aren't okay with a place that works like this. They don't do anything directly to help the child, probably because they know people would fight back, but they remove themselves from this society. They "seem to know where they are going" because they do know -- they are going away from there, to find someplace better. 

This piece is reminiscent of the idea of helping the poor. Our society stands in a certain way, and if we were to bring the poor to a level equal to that of the rich, it would upset the established order, and that causes discomfort. However, people are perfectly willing to use the suffering of the poor as an inspiration to them in their lives, much as the people of Omelas used the child's suffering to motivate their art, their kindness. The poor people and the child are there as an example of what not to be, and the people who walk away from Omelas are the people who aren't okay with using another human life solely to inspire your own emotional ends.

"This Is What It Means To Say Phoenix, Arizona" by Sherman Alexie

"'Nothing stops, cousin,' Thomas said. 'Nothing stops.'"

As I read through the story, the thoughts that were cropping up in my head culminated in this sentence. I remember thinking things like, "Wow, Thomas is still willing to go so far out of his way for Victor -- friendship never ends!" And then, I got to this line, and realized that that "endless" friendship was quite possibly the whole point of the story. Thomas is the part of this story that strikes the strongest chord with me; he's a dreamer, and fairly spurned by his entire community. They're tired of his stories, so they avoid him and ignore him. But his stories are all he has, so he sticks to his guns and keeps going, and keeps on caring about Victor, because as he says -- nothing stops. 

The reason for the end of Thomas' and Victor's friendship is never explicitly stated, but it's heavily implied that once Victor's friends decided they didn't like Thomas, he followed the crowd and stopped talking to him as well. It doesn't seem to have been of his own accord, because in one of the flashbacks, Victor explicitly asks Thomas to tell him a story, and because they get along so well during their trip. This seems to be making a statement about the power of public opinion on a friendship; although by definition we shouldn't care what others think, many people are strongly influenced by it. And when we're forced to face our own actions, like Victor was, we tend to see the wrong of our ways. "Victor was ashamed of himself.  Whatever happened to the tribal ties, the sense of community?" 

Another section of the story I found interesting was the roadkill when Thomas was driving. They had been commenting on how there were no living things in the desert area when they noticed a jackrabbit. Then, the narrative continues, "Thomas and Victor were busy congratulating themselves on their discovery when the jackrabbit darted out into the road and under the wheels of the pickup." I had trouble working out the meaning of this metaphor for a while -- I could feel that it was an important metaphor to the story, but I couldn't quite put it into words. The jackrabbit could represent a friendship, like the one that once existed peacefully between the younger Thomas and Victor. It was a truly close friendship, seemingly a diamond in the rough. But when the focus was taken away from the relationship itself and shifted onto the objective and social look of it, the friendship was ruined, just like how the jackrabbit was killed when the two men were focused on their pride for having found a living thing in the desert. The focus was on themselves, not the discovery, and by means of that lapse in attention the subject of their excitement was killed. 

As a whole, I found this to be a clever, well-written piece on friendship and family. It manages to be both funny and poignant, and utterly relatable, through Victor's honest self-reflections. It leaves you wanting to be better to the Thomas in your life.

"A Clean, Well-Lighted Place" by Ernest Hemingway

"What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all nothing and a man was a nothing too. It was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanliness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada. Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name thy kingdom nada thy will be nada in nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee. He smiled and stood before a bar with a shining steam pressure coffee machine."

Maybe it's not entirely professional of me to start off with a general opinion, but I love this piece as a whole. It's does a realistic job of showing the world's perspective by juxtaposing one person who understands the existentialism/depression/insomnia-ridden lifestyle of the old man with one who does not.

The quote I included above is said by the older waiter, the one who understands the lifestyle of an old man who comes to the café every night, after his younger, less empathetic coworker has gone home for the night. He is talking to himself as he closes up the café. In his thoughts spoken aloud, he explains the way he perceives the old man to view life -- full of "nada." From this perspective, the world is full of and made of nothing, which can be very hard for a person to handle. As such, the old man simply needs a place to sit at night, a place that is well-lit with a calm atmosphere.

Beyond simply explaining the perceived perspective of the old man, this passage does a nice job of explaining the character's general feeling of an existential take on the world. The concept of nothingness, of there potentially being no greater being or overarching meaning to life, is one often viewed with a fairly rational amount of fear. But, as the waiter says, "it was not a fear or dread." Someone who has accepted the concept of nothingness into their life doesn't fear the nothingness. They understand the idea and are not afraid of it; they don't push it away to the back of their minds like others might. For someone who openly accepts the idea of nothingness, "...light was all it needed, and a certain cleanliness and order."

On a personal level, I like that Hemingway chose to have the waiter exemplify the feeling of nothingness by replacing the words to prayers, because religion is a common area of disagreement for people who do and do not sympathize with the existential mindset. Religion, to those who believe in it, is a source of hope. Religion to people who do not believe in it, on the other hand, is a source of false hope. This is shown nicely by the sheer number of "nada"s thrown into the waiter's phrases. Hemingway turns a prominent piece of common ground for religious believers into a very empty group of sentences.

Another favorite bit of mine is the end of the passage; I love the way the text switches directly from the waiter's monologue about nothingness to the waiter smiling in front of "a bar with a shining steam pressure coffee maker." The specificity in the description of the coffee maker feels so hollow and irrelevant after this thick paragraph about how everything is nothing, yet it's there and remains part of the story, because life goes on. And the old waiter smiles on. While earlier on in the piece, the younger waiter had repeatedly said that if the old man feels the way he does, he should have just killed himself, the older waiter is able to through the same type of thought process and come out of it smiling. It feels like a lesson in resilience, an example of how a person can see the world in such an empty way and still go on living life.