On Online Journals

I actually really enjoyed keeping an online journal. There are definitely both pros and cons, but I much preferred this to a handwritten journal for many reasons. First and foremost, I loved being able to read my peers’ blogs. This adds another layer to the class and allows us to share ideas that we wouldn’t otherwise share. Some people speak more than others in class discussions, but in easily-read blogs, you can see everyone’s opinions and insights where this otherwise wouldn’t be the case. Also, I find keeping an online journal much easier. While it is true that there is not the convenience of being able to carry a notebook around and just jot stuff down, I rarely have a situation where I am not near a computer. Also, I tend to just take a note on my phone or scribble a thought down on a piece of paper, and then I develop it into something of substance later. It is nice being able to really work on posts over time and have the ability to add things and restructure the posts, which is a level of editing that is quite difficult on paper. Also, I am a very slow writer but a quick typer, which is nice for me. It is painful for me to handwrite a long post, but it is really easy to crank out a page in Word, allowing me to write much more; it seems like less of a chore. In addition to this, I really like the organization of Blogger, allowing me to easily find posts I have written previously instead of having to flip through pages and pages in my notebook. In terms of critiques of the online journals, I don’t have any major ones. I really like our current system. I would like more participation in the form of everyone commenting on each other’s blogs. Why use this system and not take advantage of it? There is an ability to spawn interesting discussions through commenting, and it would be great to see everyone use this. I really don’t think there is anything wrong with how the assignment of online reading journals has been set up though. One minor thing though is that I used to like showing off my random thoughts in class in my journal, which isn’t seen on the online version. However, I believe the fact that the online journal encourages one to develop, expand, and polish posts is a very good trade off. 

The Image of Hagar

As I read chapter 11 for the first time, I was confused by the constant references to Hagar. I realized that Morrison kept referencing her for a reason, but I couldn’t figure out why. The scene in which Milkman sees her in a provocative position right before he believes he is going to die baffled me. After presenting today in class, I realized (with a lot of help from Mr. Mitchell) that Hagar was presented as an important image in this chapter for a very good reason: Hagar is a very real example of Milkman’s selfishness. Up until now, Milkman has only ever thought about himself, and this destroyed Hagar. She legitimately cared about Milkman, while he just enjoyed the steady, reliable sex she provided. She was his back up; if he couldn’t find anything to do, he would go have sex with her. While he pretty much used her as an object, she wanted a real relationship with him. This culminated in his getting bored with her and nonchalantly dumping her, which broke her; it made her homicidal. This mirrors how his nonchalant manner of being a dick gets him in trouble down South. He doesn’t bother to be nice or ask anyone’s name, he doesn’t bother with customs, he just worries about himself, his comfort, which causes him to get his ass beat. Because of this, when he reflects upon himself, Hagar comes up as a prime example of his poor actions. Also, the image of Hagar as Milkman thinks he is about to die ties in with the “tradition” that one sees their life flash before their eyes. Milkman’s life has been nothing except selfishness and vanity, and this is summed up by his relationship with Hagar. Thus, an image of Hagar actually sums up his entire life. Pretty eye-opening, right? Anyways, I find it interesting that after all of this reflection on the part of Milkman, he goes to Sweet and immediately treats her in a total opposite way. As he is starting his new life, straightaway he enters a short relationship in which he gives instead of just taking and taking.

Perspective

Throughout the novel, Milkman, and to a lesser extent other characters, are plagued with the problem of perspectives. Milkman doesn’t know what to make of many situations because of then multiple perspectives surrounding them. Milkman himself is seen from different perspectives. We always see Milkman as a good guy, although we are more than aware of his flaws. However, we finally see how Corinthians and Lena see him when he is called into Lena’s room. In terms of Guitar’s perceptions, he is forced to see both of his parents from different lights. They both tell flattering stories of themselves and horrid ones of the other. Milkman sees Guitar as a good friend but is tortured by the perspective of him being a coldhearted killer. He sees Porter as just that, while Corinthians sees Porter as a bit of a gentleman, a guy who is forced to live poorly but has the heart of a good man. Within Corinthians even there are different perspectives of Porter: poor trash and a gentleman.

Two situations dealing with perspective really struck me in recent readings. First of all, when Pilate helps get Milkman and Guitar out of the police station, she is said to put on an act not unlike Aunt Jemima. The white cops see her as this weak, ineffectual old black woman, while everyone else knows her as the mighty Pilate, a woman who is stands up straight and will cut anyone who messes with her daughter. The change in her demeanor and the meaning behind it is striking. It even affects Milkman: he can’t believe the strong Pilate would put on an act for him, that such an uncompromising, sure woman would act like a pitiful old lady. The second situation that interested me came very recently, when Milkman heard of his family while at the Reverend’s house. First off, Milkman has had to struggle with different perspectives, not being able to trust any of them, especially in regards to his parents. Reverend Cooper corroborates a good deal of Macon’s story, allowing Milkman to finally get some truth out of what he can’t take as anything other than nonsense. Also, hearing the Reverend and Circe, as well as the elder townspeople, talk about his father and grandfather in good lights helped him gain a very useful perspective, one that I believe will help him finally grow up.

No More Iceberg

One thing that Morrison’s writing that somewhat upsets me is the fact that she hammers the hell out of her themes and motifs. I have gotten so used to the “iceberg principle,” and I have come to enjoy it greatly. I like having to sift through and reflect upon what I have read in order to draw connections and deeper understanding. Besides making you feel like you’ve accomplished something through reading and interpreting the text, it allows you to shape your conclusions instead of being force-fed them. I found this style especially annoying on two occasions. First, when Milkman thinks about the gold, instead of having to think about why he would want it, Morrison gives us all of his thoughts: 

… he could not visualize a life that much different from the one he had. New people. New places. Command. That was what he wanted in his life. And he couldn’t get deep into Guitar’s talk of elegant clothes for himself and his brother, sumptuous meals for Uncle Billy, and week-long card games in which the stakes would be a yard and a half and then a deuce and a quarter. He screamed and shooted “Wooeeee!” at Guitar’s list, but because his life was not unpleasant and even had a certain amount of luxury in addition to its comfort, he felt off center. He just wanted to beat a path away from his parents’ past, which was also their present and which was threatening to become his present as well. (180)

Also, on 209-210, Milkman wonders about what is right or not in regards to the gold. Who deserves it? What is everyone’s position in this situation? These questions are definitely important, but I feel like they should be wondered and discussed by us, not presented and somewhat answered in the book. I really enjoy this novel and like Morrison’s writing, but I prefer the anonymity and layers of meaning that must be peeled through in Hemingway’s writing much more than Morrison’s clear presentation of all of her ideas and points.

The Evolution of Guitar

Wow, so I definitely have problems with Guitar at this point in the book. Obviously we are supposed to disagree with him; we are supposed to see how ridiculous the Seven Days are, but seriously, this is painful. The line, “No love? No love? Didn’t you hear me? What I’m doing ain’t about hating white people. It’s about loving us. About loving you. My whole life is love,” uttered by Guitar really struck me (159). This sounds exactly like the Ku Klux Klan. When we learned about the KKK in middle school, that was what I remember was said by many Klansmen. They weren’t about hate, they were about love. The fact that Guitar is now participating in racist murders doesn’t help this comparison. I originally like Guitar, but now, not so much. I even had hope for him to grow as a character. Not too long before this scene, after another leap in time, with Guitar and Milkman being older, they joke about the color of eggs. Guitar jokes, “Black? White? Don’t tell me you’re one of those racial Negroes? Who said anything about black people? This is just a geography lesson” (115). After knowing of Guitar’s hatred of white people in his youth, I hoped that his joking about racial tension and views signified his getting over his racism with age. Now, reflecting back upon this, I believe he is more comfortable discussing and joking about it because he feels a sort of closure. What he sees as injustice is being solved by the actions of the Seven Days. I really don’t know what to think about all this, but the evolution of Guitar’s hatred is quite distressing. He has become more comfortable in life, seemingly settling down, giving up booze, acting like an adult, but he is an assassin. This situation is unnerving: a seemingly normal guy being so violently racist.  

Names

Names are an ever important part of Song of Solomon. Toni Morrison makes this clear from the beginning of the story when she goes through all of the Deads and their families. Names are used in many ways throughout the story. For Milkman, it is part of a legacy he is trying to escape. His name is a reminder of how messed up his parents are; it is an ever-present burden. The entire novel, he tries to escape being like his parents, and his name is just further proof that they are really, really messed up. His avoidance of seriousness is because of this desire to be as different from his parents as possible. As stated in the novel, he tries to be the exact opposite of his father when he works for him.

The importance of names is also seen in Pilate’s existence. While Milkman’s father keeps and uses the name dead, given to him by white men jokingly, Pilate embraces her biblical name, wearing it on her ear. This shows the dichotomy between the siblings. Macon takes a name given to him by “respectable people” due to his own want/need to be respectable. Pilate, on the other hand, loves the name that ties her to religion and spirituality. While Macon is rooted in the world of the practical, Pilate lives in a world of spirituality and love.

Morrison establishes who her characters are through their names. While these monikers may seem silly, they serve a very real purpose. They denote a legacy, as well as a status. However, this status can be both damning as well as something to be proud of. The identity given through these names ties in intricately to the other themes that appear later in the book.

Antoinette and Christophine

One scene in Wide Sargasso Sea that really interested me was Antoinette’s pleading with Christophine to perform obeah. First off, I really like this scene for a couple of pretty petty reasons. I find Christophine to be an interesting character as she is independent and slightly mysterious. For quite some time in the book, we have not seen much of her because Rochester took over the narration, and Christophine and him don’t really have any relationship, and he has little reason to think of her. In contrast, Christophine is very important to Antoinette. Also, Christophine is connected to voodoo, which is inherently interesting. In addition, it is interesting to note Christophine’s insistence that they don’t know that England. It shows the perception of mystery and the almost dreamlike quality that Rochester assigns to Jamaica that is now being applied to his land.

This scene is also one of my favorites so far for very real reasons. After being from Rochester’s point of view for so long, it is exciting to once again be in the troubled mind of Antoinette. Rochester is rather calculating and easily relatable to, as opposed to Antoinette, who has been constantly in bizarre situations and who we cannot really understand. It also shows a great dichotomy between how we have thought Antoinette is through Rochester and the letter and actually being able to see her as a sympathetic character that is not just some crazy, vile schemer. This scene also really moves the plot along after a lot of Rochester just doubting Antoinette. It shows Antoinette’s strong desire to be with Rochester. She very clearly wants to stay connected to him and doesn’t want him to hate her or to think of her as a “white cockroach” like the others on the island. I really hope that Christophine’s obeah plays a role later in the novel.