The Scenic Route

Blog Post #39: Poetry Evaluation

Ryo Cain

Per. 07

Clouds of War: Powerful Poetry

Poetry is a powerful experience. Through the rhymes of great poetry there is always an important lesson to be found, and an eloquent tale to be told through its verses. Poetry is literature in its most striking and provoking form. The emotions transferred and all wrapped together in an immaculate assemblage of communication forms the strongest bond between the author and the reader, and by simply using poetry to convey the relationship between what the poet is experiencing and what the reader needs to hear, the emotion is made far more apparent through the verse written. Poetry allows the words on the page to come to life, and reflects the feeling the poet is trying to demonstrate on the reader. Sometimes when there is no way to explain a certain sentiment, poetry can permit the listener to draw their own conclusions. No matter through which lens the poem is viewed, the furtherance of the words and verses are a method to goad the deepest emotions inside the reader, and to teach them more about themselves than anything. Poetry is an involvement. It is a commitment for both the poet and the reader, and an adherence between them. A promise is in every verse, one made silent by both affiliates. This promise is not made to one another, but rather to the self. It is a promise to keep the story sacred, and listen to the lesson the poem holds. Clouds of War, and original poem by a brave man living in a war-torn Kuwait in the 1970’s holds all the meaning a poem should. The author, Samah Kalakh, recalls the deaths of his family members and the destruction of his home by the Iraqi Taliban in a short, but to the point reflection of war. It is a dark, depressing account depicting not only the effects the war had on his own life, but all conflict in the world. This poem, with all the meaning it holds, exemplifies the sadness and destruction in our world today and is a great representation of powerful poetry made straight from the heart.

As far as the emotion of the poem goes, I was initially shocked and depressed after reading Clouds of War for the first time. I knew nothing of the author, but I knew that the sadness and agony of battle always takes a heavy toll on the lives of those involved and never ends happily. War is a destructive and ongoing process which leaves a scar on the lifecycle of the Earth, and devastates the natural order of the people. “Heartache, misery, endless tears Unheard cries of a broken heart” (Kalakh, 1-2) Everything is effected by war one way or another. Directly or indirectly, all war can be seen to have a consequence on the world and its peoples. Conflict arises and violence breaks out, and before long the war is over and the people are left to deal with the scraps of their lives strewn about the frontline. Samah Kalakh knows this well. Samah’s family was killed in the relentless barrage of the Taliban on Kuwait’s capital, and as I later found out, Clouds of War was written to help cope and raise awareness of the struggle the citizens of Kuwait were facing. When I looked at the nature of the poem, I noticed that it took the aspect of a father. I assumed that Samah was an old man that had a wife, and had lost a daughter to whom which he was referring to in the poem. I researched the conflict of the Gulf War and followed a bibliography about Samah, and as it turns out, Samah had a seven year old baby girl that was burned alive in an oil fire when the Taliban bombed the capital. At this point in the project I felt horrible. The poem lost all luster and painted a dark format of life and death to pain and suffering. I wanted to cry. I related to Samah’s agony. The poem was much more upsetting once I knew what Samah was actually referring to, and the feeling of grief set in. I put myself there, watching my own-born daughter dying right in front of me and not being able to do anything about it. I missed Samah’s daughter, and I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t want to anymore. “I hear words of love you whispered to me Though it seems forever ago” (Kalakh, 9-10) A home is defined by family, and a broken family fractures a home. When a home is destroyed, the same happens to the family. The loss of a loved one can devastate the lives surrounding it. “I close my eyes only to see In a starry night, your eyes glow” (Kalakh, 11-12) Samah mourned for the loss of his daughter for many years, even after the war was over and the Iraqi’s pulled out of Kuwait. It is a true story, one Samah has always been reluctant to tell, but it is also in the sense of all war. Every battle is fought with sacrifices, and whoever walks away with the least amount of losses makes it to the next round. Neither side wins, just one does better than the other and claims victory. At this point in the project I felt sick, not so much for just Samah’s daughter anymore, but for all the people of the world who have felt the detrimental effects of war. Battle forgoes many steps, each one playing into the next. There is always the cornerstone laid, usually a crumbling lie on the verge of being exposed. On this the frameworks of peace are built upon, because peace is always reflected in the image of the victor and erected with the blood and bone of the enemy. Pain and suffering sweep across the combat zone to end the war. Cities lost, families torn apart, lives ended and destroyed; all shattered by the conflict over something as meek as oil. I read a recent article about Samah Kalakh and found that he is currently a leading speaker for peace in Kuwait, and has lectured all around the Middle East protesting unnecessary war. He gains most of his support from his poetry, and Clouds of War is his most convincing piece. With literature as potent as this poem, I’m sure everyone can at least take a step towards world peace and understanding. That’s how powerful Samah Kalakh’s Clouds of War really is.

As I investigated deeper into my research of Samah Kalakh’s life, I found out more and more about the conflict in Kuwait. As a small, barely developed country, Kuwait has been under a lot of pressure not just from neighboring countries, but from the oil economy too. Kuwait produces about 267 bn bbl’s of oil every year, amounting to almost fifteen percent of the world’s oil reserve. This makes Kuwait a prime target for the more ambitious countries seeking oil wealth. War is imminent in these conditions. A small country with supreme oil excess surrounded by power-hungry nations is a recipe for disaster. On August 2^nd, 1990, Iraq launched a massive attack on Kuwait and gained control of the northern oil fields. Kuwait was defenseless. They had no military built up, and with the Iraqi’s gaining more and more momentum every day, Samah knew that he and his family needed to flee from their home before matters got worse. With nowhere else to go, Samah took his wife and his daughter with what little food and resources they could carry to a shelter promised along the border of Iraq. Highway 80, a stretch of road crossing the border from Kuwait into Iraq, is where almost two-hundred thousand Palestinian Kuwaitis attempted to escape from their war-torn country. Samah and his family were among the crowd traveling across this road when all Hell broke loose. Only three-thousand make it out alive. Now dubbed the “Highway of Death”, Highway 80 is where the Iraqi forces made on last desperate attempt to destroy Kuwait. With the Taliban retreat, Saddam Hussein knew that they had lost. He cut resources and troops going into the warzone, and put into motion his “Scorched Earth” tactic with what little forces he had left. The Iraqi’s burnt down every city they could on the way out, including the oil fields and Samah’s home. Then, in blatant violation of the laws of war and with ruthless sadist carnage, bombed the entire stretch of Highway 80. With no warning, nowhere to go, and in utter panic and sheer ruin, Samah fell to the ground as explosions rained down upon the road. Everything was burnt immediately. The bombs were so hot that the ground itself turned to glass, and the vehicles along the highway were reduced to ash. Samah was knocked out in the eruptions, and when he awoke to the smoldering wasteland, found a charred shell of his daughter laying before him. The pain, the feeling of hopelessness, the confusion of it all, made me feel hate for all the violence in the world more than anything. I was there, in the midst of all the anguish and suffering, and I reacted the same way Samah did: I cried. I didn’t want it to be true. The power of the poem spoke to me on a personal level, even more so with the full story at hand. It seemed surreal at first, but with no way to deny the truth, I had to accept it. I had to be part of it. I was now a Palestinian from Kuwait who had just lost his daughter. I had seen the fires of war. War had always been an impersonal entity, something that has to be done and is always viewed from afar. The after-effects are always glorified to help the bystanders forget the unseen horrors of it all. But Clouds of War is personal. It is an account, something that really happened whether the reader chooses to accept it or not, and is just a small peek inside the real revulsions of war. I now understood the heartbreak Samah was feeling. “They couldn’t hear your desperate scream Do they know what does it mean? To be so young and have a dream Just like you my glorious queen” (Kalakh, 13-14) Samah’s account of his daughter is just one story of the many who lost a loved family member on the “Highway of Death”. The realization that the conflict portrayed in Clouds of War is just one of the countless wartime poems just goes to show how much violence and destruction there is in the world. There always has, and most likely always will be, war on Earth. Nothing can stop battle, only delay it. Setting aside differences to create “peace” is a temporary fix. Sooner or later all those differences build up, and then the war fought is much worse than it should have been. When the dust settles and the fighting is over, those who tried to prevent war suffer the most. The civilians and innocent eyewitnesses are left with the mess of the battlefront. War expends and takes all, and demands sacrifices from the people to feed the next conflict. Samah’s daughter was a victim of war, and a ransom paid for all the violence. War is a detrimental ruler of those who wish to see it end. “But clouds of war are just so merciless It rains death on flowers and weeds” (Kalakh, 19-20) War effects those who give in to it, and those who should have never been involved at all. The lust for death is never quenched for the soldiers fighting or the entity of war. War is a powerful value. Some would argue that war is necessary, but I am sure Samah would not agree. No matter how it is viewed, war is an entity that has always been and will always be. It brings darkness and sadness into the lives of those it effects, and with the sacrifices and losses it demands war has always been something to fear. No one enjoys war. It is simply something that happens, and is completely unavoidable. This Earth we live on has always been built up through conflict, and the labors demanded by war are harsh and unyielding. “The days, the month, all of the years Since our home was torn apart” (Kalakh, 2-3) Samah had to give his home, his comfortable life, and his own daughter to war. Samah simply paid the price for a battle he didn’t want. The idea that war is fought for a reason is justifiable, but I am sure that Samah would not agree with the validations Iraq had for invading Kuwait. Nonetheless, some of the greatest poetry of all time was born out of the ashes of war, and Clouds of War is no exception. Poetry explains and elucidates the esoteric profile of battle, and allows the reader and inside look at what really happens better than any other source. First-hand accounts of the tragedy put together with the literal flow of verses creates a perfect in-touch experience to share information and emotion at the same time. Poetry is the equilibrium for great writing, and the efficient communicator of wartime stories.

Now that I had a solid background to the poem, I could start relating Clouds of War to all fighting in the world. Samah captures the loss of his daughter in such a way that it becomes a perfect example of human hostility towards one another while still allowing it to be deciphered in the sense of battle’s grim corporeality. The horrors of war are atrocious and often unspeakable, and by making a subtle poem about just one instance of it Samah has revealed the truly staggering dismay that is battle. Samah lost his one and only daughter, the love of his life is gone forever because of something as stupid as lust for oil wealth. Samah can never get her back, and as hard as he tries the entity of war will never return her to him. Is that not what war does to everyone? War comes without warning and takes what is loved the most from the people it possesses. Then, just as fast as it came, war departs leaving a wake of destruction. Those who have just lost their most valued possession, their one love in life, are left empty and alone. The destruction is immeasurable. The neutral are damaged more than anyone. Those who have died have been lost in unnecessary vain, and those who are left behind have to carry out the sadness and longing left behind. Most will never get their life back on track. Some will never recover from the heartache of loss. Samah Kalakh has accepted the fact that his daughter is gone forever, but is far from mending his broken spirit. Clouds of War is an account and elucidation for conflict and warfare in our world on an all-encompassing interpretation, but it is also an apology meant just for Samah himself. It is his way of saying goodbye to his daughter, and a closer for his sorrow. “Please don’t you cry, my dearest dear” (Kalakh, 23-24) If Samah could read his poem to his little girl, I’m sure he would. It is his farewell. “I never meant to leave you fatherless Never wished to see your heart bleed” (Samah Kalakh, 17-18) The tragedy of it all is captured beautifully in Clouds of War. The pain and suffering felt by those who have lost a family member in a familiar way, and those who have died in the carnage and disarray of battle. It is an apology for all of it. What was done is done, and everyone has to move on sometime. Samah speaks for all those who have ever lost a loved one to the greed of war and helps them take comfort in knowing no one is at fault for it. War happens, simply disregarding the fact that it does is ignorant. Samah is just trying to bear the sadness of his loss. “Don’t you cry my baby girl! Your loving dad is always here” (Kalakh, 21-22) Sadly, Samah’s baby girl is just considered another source of nourishment for war, already used up and forgotten about by the entity of violence. Even after reading through the poem a few more times and presenting it to my mother to get her opinion, I’m still unsure about how I feel. After all that research and evaluation, I still need some time to reflect. As of now I just feel depressed. The wars of history all seem to lead to the same place, why can’t we stop it? Samah’s daughter didn’t merit death, no one in war ever deserves to die. At the same time I know that clashing opinions can never be resolved any other way. World peace is not out of the question, but it will take more understanding and a lot more time. Poems like Samah Kalakh’s are the first step towards total cease-fire between all nations, and an accord of goodwill between all peoples.

All in all, I’m sure that everyone can agree that war is a terrible tragedy and that conflict between nations can be solved in calmer, more non-violent ways. The destruction of battle and the sadness of loss and heartbreak that follow it are never worth the spoils of war. Everyone thinks that this is their own personal world and everyone else is just living in it, but that is not a true way to live. All people need to get along with one another and share this Earth, because that is what peace is. Peace is something to strive for, and a perfect world may not happen in my own lifetime, but I can still hope for it. There is a void between the violence of war and the serenity of peace, and people live somewhere in between the two. Sometimes people move closer to peace as a whole, sometimes people fall short of unity and tumble back into pain and suffering. No matter what the final outcome may be, reading powerful literature like Samah Kalakh’s Clouds of War gives me hope. Peace is achievable, and with it in sight people will never give up on it. 

Blog Post #38

I walked into the living room and sat down to my mother across the table carrying two cups of coffee. It was a Monday afternoon, a ray of sunlight came through the window. My sister was in her room finishing her homework and I could smell dinner in the oven. I slid a copy of my poem across the table as I set down and handed my mother her coffee. "Clouds of War?" She asked. "It's a poem about war?" I confirmed her assumption and settled down in my seat as she began to read. She stayed completely expressionless as she tracked her eyes across the page.

After a minute she took a sip of her coffee, still saying nothing. She looked deep in thought. "That's powerful," She says. "Where is the author from?"

"Kuwait, it's on the coast of the Arabian Peninsula."

"Hm. Is it referring to the Gulf War?"

"Yeah, the author's family died during the invasion."

"Invasion by who?"

"The Iraqi Taliban."

"Oh that's right. I remember when that was going on."

"So what's your reaction to the poem?"

"I think it's kind of depressing, I don't like hearing about sad things like this. It is interesting to read about something as horrible as war in such a beautiful way though." She took another sip of her coffee and looked to the China cabinet.

"Do you have an opinion on the whole feeling of the poem?"

"It makes me scared for our future. If we can't even get along about something as simple as gas and land than I'm not sure we'll make it very far. People can't go on like this." She was looking back at her coffee mug. She seemed uncomfortable and distressed from the discussion.

"Do you think war is avoidable?"

"I believe it can, but only if we all decide to get along. I would like it to be."

I didn't quite agree with her, but I respected her opinion. I could understand where she was coming from and a positive attitude could never hurt. "Is anything confusing to you in the poem?"

"Nope. Still very interesting though. Thanks for sharing. Let me know how the rest of your project goes."
With that, I looked over the poem one more time and went back to doing my other homework.

After this interview, I really got to see where my mom and I differ on such topics as politics. She perceives a more liberal take on the world. She sees that our Earth needs improvement, and looks to help it. My mother has a positive outlook, and not saying that I don't, but I feel differently. I personally don't believe peace exists. War is necessary, and even though the battles fought are devastating, the consequences add up to a greater settlement than that which could be achieved any other way. Without war, there is no peace, and without suffering, there is no ecstasy. It is simply a law of nature. I truly wish that we could settle conflict without bloodshed, but the world doesn't work like that. Problems are handled in a very straight forward way, and peace is really only achieved through the eyes of the victor. If the world somehow does achieve peace, something went very wrong. One man's peace is over another man's dead body, and no one can argue with that; no one is left to. Peace is a castle built of the enemy's blood and bone, supported by the world's insidious deceit, and made strong through hate and suffering. Whoever has the bigger stick forms the world in their own image of peace. Suffering for one is the reason for another's content. These wars we fight are not in haste or condemnation, but more to keep peace from happening. Peace will enslave the enemy, and that is not true peace. My mother believes differently. She thinks that we can all work together and be free from each other's oppression and hatred, and that we can all be equal. But that's theoretical. If every man, woman, and child on Earth was a perfectly good-hearted person all the way down to the core, true peace could be imposed. I'm not saying that couldn't happen, but I don't think anyone has been able to completely rid themselves of hate yet. Peace, is an ideal. Not an event. Peace is for every every individual human being on Earth, but not to share. My mother is entitled to her opinion and I am entitled to mine, and I think we both bring up some great points.

Inclusively, everyone can agree that war is a terrible tragedy. There is a lot of hate, a lot of sadness, and a lot of destruction in the world. Each one of these is expressed in war. We have all experienced the horrors of battle one way or another. Weather it was something on television, something we read, or in Samah Kalakh's experience, something we lost, it is uniform that all conflict is not enjoyable. Peace is achievable, and can be reached if we all try. It will take every single human's power to instill peace on this fragile Earth, but I know we can do it.  This world is for everyone, but sometimes we don't act like it is. We just need to learn to share.

Blog Post #37

War is a powerful value. Some would argue that war is necessary, and that peace can never be achieved without it. No matter how it is viewed, war is an entity that has always been and will always be. It brings darkness and sadness into the lives of those it effects, and with the sacrifices and losses it demands war has always been something to fear. No one enjoys war. It is simply something that happens, and is completely unavoidable. This Earth we live on has always been built up through conflict, and the foundations for Peace are laid on the dead bodies of the enemy. War is harsh, unyielding, and powerful. The consequences of unrest between fellow humans is always a dark, and always results in just as many advantages as disadvantages -- for some.  

Samah Kalakh knows war from a first hand experience. Born in the small providence of Kuwait on the edge of the Arabian Peninsula, Kalakh was thrown into the life of a refuge at a very young age. Kuwait was still a developing country, and was prone to attack from the opposing Muslim Taliban surrounding their borders. When the Iraqi Taliban raided Kuwait's oil fields during the Gulf War, the United States stepped in to protect the civilians and innocent bystanders of Kuwait. The Iraqis knew they would lose, so as one last attempt at a Kuwait overthrow they conduced a "scorched earth" tactic. Raiding all the oil fields was the Taliban's main purpose, but since they couldn't have it, no one could. With a last strike on the capital of Kuwait, the Iraqis fled. The battle was over, but the scars left on the people of Kuwait, both emotionally and physically, were devastating. As she tried to put her life back together, Samah Kalakh wrote poems to help cope with the loss of her loved ones and to raise awareness to the terrible indignity of the Iraqi invaders. Today, Samah lives in the United States as a war refuge near New York. She works as a young writer and a poet, but is largely unaccredited for her works. Not a lot is known about her past in Kuwait, mostly because she doesn't want to talk about it. Still, some evidence of the war is evident in her poem Clouds of War. Samah is only seventeen years old, and yet she is a shining poet and a war survivor.

Blog Post #36: Siddhartha Essay

Ryo Cain

Per. 07

The Circle of the Inward Journey

            At one time or another, every child must make a realization. This realization, or truth, can only be discovered personally. A young adult must pull himself out of the known comfort of childhood and into the unfamiliar world of adults to achieve the goal of life, whatever that goal may be. Every individual has a personal goal, and every goal comes along with its own obstacles. Once this ultimate goal is achieved, if it is truly the ultimate goal, the personal journey and the realization will be enough to last a lifetime. This trial is the most arduous test the new coming adult will ever face, but that is the whole point. The discovery of the self can never be fully achieved. It is always enduring, rotating in a constant circle that repeats itself. To venture out into the mysterious in search of understanding is not always a physical path taken, sometimes both the challenges and the reward are seated inside the person. This unending inward search for peace and ultimate realization is best illustrated through Hermann Hesse’s celebrated novel, Siddhartha. Through the eyes of a young Brahmin living in India, Hesse brings to life the ideas of the hero’s circle, the cycle of life, and the internal journey of the individual. A youth not afraid to accomplish his goals, the young Siddhartha is an unspoiled model of human’s prerequisite to know.

            The story opens on a very young Siddhartha living with his father in a Brahmin community. Since he was just a baby, Siddhartha was predicted to do great things. His father is a great leader in the commune, and he is said to be one of the more “spiritual” adolescents of his age. Siddhartha enjoys meditating with his best friend Govinda around the village, and like all others in the municipal, is eager to find inner peace. Enlightenment is a common aspiration for the Brahmins, and Siddhartha is trying his best to achieve it. But even as happy and attainable Siddhartha seems to be, he is struggling more and more on the inside every day. He is impatient. Siddhartha feels like he is being filled up with false knowledge, and that even the most earnest Brahmins of his community can no longer sustain him. “All of the wise and wisest men he knew and whose teachings he enjoyed, not a single one had succeeded in reaching it, this heavenly world; not one had quenched that eternal thirst.” (Hesse, 7) Siddhartha sees no point in following an instructor that has never been down the path which is preached, those Brahmin don’t know true enlightenment any more than he does. Siddhartha sees that there is more than what just the Brahmin in his own hometown have to offer. Siddhartha needs wisdom, because wisdom is out there waiting for him. “Such was the nature of Siddhartha’s thoughts; this was his thirst, his sorrow.” (Hesse, 7) Siddhartha’s long journey is only beginning. He has chosen to dawn a new life before himself, and one that only he can travel by. Siddhartha will tread alone on his own personal path to Nirvana. Govinda will join him as he takes the first steps, but only physically. After a long night of meditation Siddhartha leaves to live with the Semanas in the forest by his village and to learn their ways, in hopes of a quicker path to enlightenment. Before long, Siddhartha and Govinda are practical Semanas. They follow the ways of fasting, and the idea of simplifying all things appeals to Siddhartha. Govinda is skeptical to this new way of life, but before long he is beginning to feel satisfied by the studies. Govinda is glad he trusted Siddhartha in this new way of being. But after an extensive reflection, Siddhartha runs into the same problem. A roadblock in his path to knowledge impedes Siddhartha’s mind. He finds the same snag with the Semanas that he did with the Brahmins: none of the teachers have achieved enlightenment. There is an extent to the knowledge being provided to Siddhartha, and all of it ends long before the vital Nirvana. “I am suffering from thirst, Govinda, and upon this long Semana path I have found nothing to slake it. Always I have thirsted for knowledge, always been filled with questions.” (Hesse, 17) Siddhartha feels the same deprivation of communication to Atman he had before while living with his father. He has improved much with the Semanas, but he can now see the bottom of the well of experience. Siddhartha needs to move on from this stepping stone in his path to enlightenment if he is to find Nirvana and achieve his goal. Dwelling in the past will never improve him, and now it is time to apply all that he has learned. Govinda trusts Siddhartha once again, and they both leave the Semanas. Keen to find the next milestone, Siddhartha has exemplified the commencement of the hero perfectly. Taking the first step into the unknown and having complete self-confidence is the hardest part of the hero’s cycle. Siddhartha was brave in his start, and he isn’t afraid to continue it either. A hero is defined by a courageous act, and Siddhartha has already been a fearless pioneer in his own challenge.

            Siddhartha is strong in his search for enlightenment, but there is still something that he hasn’t quite come to terms with himself about. He has chosen to ignore the one thing he is looking for. Siddhartha is still living the illusion of a physical path to happiness. There is no road to travel down that leads all people to Nirvana, for every person’s idea of contentment is different. Inner peace cannot be taught or preached. Siddhartha is trying to rush his way into enlightenment, and if he continues this way he will never achieve it. The cycle of life is a never-ending circle, one that goes on and on forever. A being is born, lives its life, and dies to be reborn as another creature again. To achieve enlightenment is to break this cycle and free the soul of the individual. Siddhartha believes he can speed up this process when really, true enlightenment can only happen when it is made to happen. The soul departs on its own, the body cannot force it to. Siddhartha doesn’t grasp this concept fully until he departs from his studies with the Buddha Gautama and leaves his friend Govinda behind, taking the next step in his journey alone. “Gripped by this thought, the slowly walking thinker stopped short, and at once a further thought sprang from the first one, a thought that was new to him.” (Hesse, 34) This is when Siddhartha really begins to look outside the world that he was given as a Brahmin, and when the real path to Nirvana begins for him. Teachers are a thing of the past now, he has learned as much as he could from them. No one can help Siddhartha with what only he can do. He has chosen a course that must be traveled only personally. All of Siddhartha’s instructors had told him that the path to enlightenment was measured in miles, when it is really measured in years; Siddhartha has begun to take his own direction. “From this moment when the world around him melted away and left him solitary as a star in the sky, from this moment of cold and despondency, Siddhartha emerged, more firmly Self than before, solidified.” (Hesse, 37) What Siddhartha seeks is not always hard to find, sometimes it is right in front of him. The teachers he hoped could bring him closer to enlightenment had actually been holding him back the whole time. Now, with a newly inspired sense of self confidence and trust, Siddhartha has broken free of the well-worn path of other enlightenment seekers and is blazing his own. “Siddhartha learned new things with every step along his path, for the world was transformed and his heart was enchanted.” (Hesse, 41) Siddhartha was given a head start by his father, the Brahmin, but now he is past that. His intellectual and spiritual well-being is more advanced than any of those who tried to teach him, simply because he wasn’t afraid to continue his journey without them. Siddhartha is just beginning to understand the cycle of life, but a beginning nonetheless. Nothing can hold him back now that he has this realization of personal truth.

            Now that Siddhartha has chosen to trust himself on his own spiritual journey, many twists and turns of fate await him. His inward journey is going to be rough, and there is no promise that it will come out in his favor. Siddhartha is in the middle of the longest battle he will ever fight, the battle of life. Siddhartha is off to a good start, but before long he is tempted into the life of the child people by a beautiful young woman named Kamala. Siddhartha spends many years with Kamala, and before he is even ready to admit it he finds himself an old man, swept up in a life of greed and false pleasure. Siddhartha numbs himself with drinking, gambling, and money. He has become the very thing he meant to avoid. Depressed and alone, Siddhartha feels that he no longer deserves his life. Nirvana is so far away that he will never accomplish it. What Siddhartha doesn’t realize is the real benefit of all this. It may not have improved Siddhartha as a seeker of spiritual guidance, but that was never really what he wanted anyway. There was no setback in his life, for all the things he did were necessary. If he had not gorged and taken part in the lives of the child people, Siddhartha could have never seen the errors in those ways. By sampling a different outlook on life, Siddhartha has learned a lot about himself. Siddhartha never could have discovered those aspects of himself if he didn’t try them first, and by doing so he advanced greatly in spirit. He has become independent through the indulgence of the child people. “He shared their life, which was governed not by thoughts and insights but by drives and desires; he felt like one of them.” (Hesse, 108) The journey Siddhartha has been enduring since he first began it as a young Brahmin is coming to an end. He has seen all aspects of the world he wished to, and he is close to himself in spirit. He is leaning to understand his own emotions. When Siddhartha’s son left, he initially felt sad and alone. But, after some guidance from the wise ferryman, Siddhartha has learned to take the world as it is. He left his father when he was very young, and his own son has done likewise. The sadness he feels is natural, and like all things, will soon pass. Siddhartha has finally learned to comprehend and admit to the world he lives in. “Slowly blossoming, slowly ripening within Siddhartha, was the realization and knowledge of what wisdom and the goal of his long search really was. It was nothing but a readiness of the soul, a capacity, the secret art of being able at every moment, without ceasing to live, to think the thought of Oneness, to feel Oneness and breathe it in.” (Hesse, 109) Siddhartha is at peace with the world. He has learned to love everything that the universe has offered to him, and he knows he can’t change his own destiny. Siddhartha is just along for the ride of life. There is no way to change the outcome, because it has already been determined for him. Siddhartha’s life is his own, but his actions are already defined. It has taken him more than forty years to finally admit the one thing he has been trying to settle his entire existence: enlightenment cannot be forced. His Nirvana is waiting for him, and no matter how long he fasts and meditates, he would be no closer to it than he would be by doing the opposite. His truth has been right in front of him the entire time, all he had to do was accept it. Finally, after everything Siddhartha has been through, he realizes that he never needed to go anywhere to find peace. Enlightenment was always inside him. A spiritual path was required nonetheless, but it was only his own conscious that was holding him back from Nirvana. Siddhartha has come to terms with himself and the universe. He knows that he is no different from any other thing, living or dead, which resides inside himself and everything he has ever known. The past is the past, the future is its own entity. All beings are effected by each other, and each one has its own final destination. To spend a lifetime trying to change that is pointless. All things are the way they are for a reason. Nothing is wasted, and everything has a purpose no matter how insignificant it seems to be. Siddhartha has completed his role within the ongoing play of the universe. “In this hour Siddhartha ceased to do battle with fate, ceased to suffer. Upon his face blossomed a gaiety of knowledge that is no longer opposed by any will, that knows perfection, that is in agreement with the river of occurrences, with the current of life, fill of empathy, dill of fellow feeling, given to the current, part of the Oneness.” (Hesse, 114) Siddhartha has achieved Nirvana through one simple moral: be happy with what you have, because what you really want is coming. Never try to avoid fate, because fate is inescapable. Learn to be happy without sacrifice, and enlightenment will come. This is the ultimate truth, and Siddhartha’s final attainment of life. Happiness is not given, only accepted.

            In the end, Siddhartha breaks free from his circle of life and his soul is released from his body. With no desire, no need, and no want, Siddhartha is free from himself. His own restrictions and boundaries have been broken. His happiness has been found. Siddhartha is a hero, a guide in the circle of life, and an internal crafter of the soul. What Siddhartha did isn’t something that can be followed step by step, it varies from person to person. Siddhartha cannot lead someone to their destiny any faster than that person can do it for themself. The individual journey to the center of every man and woman’s soul is a lone road. No one fully achieves happiness or true intellect, because those principals are always ongoing ethics of life. Once a person surrenders themselves to the idea that they are perfect and all knowing, they are probably as far from it as they will ever be. Life is a mystery, all that is left is to let it come out the way it was meant to be. Trying to change fate is vain and futile, because ultimately the fates of the other beings around it will push that fate back into place. There is too many destinies, all working together with incomprehensible precision that to try and avoid the flow of life will leave the soul deprived and sad. Avoiding the inevitable is wasted energy, and in due course it will only hurt the abstaining entity.  Happiness is, and always has been, inside. Material possessions meant to simulate the feeling of joy distract the body from the aching soul and are a temporary fix to the pain. There is no direct line to happiness, and it is not always found. Through the abyss of hardship, sadness, and resentment, a soul may find its own Nirvana. Enlightenment is a delicate denomination, and is often contradictory. All babies are born carrying death, sin is passed through by grace, and truth is a matter of perspective. The allusion of time as a perfect reverence will bring the destruction of the self, and the ultimate agony of an unending reign of sadness towards the soul. Patience, is the only virtue necessary for happiness. They go hand in hand. Once this is understood the rest will come naturally. Nirvana, the ultimate enlightenment and true happiness of the soul, can only be achieved if it is meant to be, and if the seeker is sincerely ready. The precincts of fear will hold the soul back, but only enough to keep what is right in front of it just out of reach. Those who are not afraid can take it for themselves, it is not a matter of strength. Siddhartha, a true producer of his own happiness and a leading spiritual adventurer, has mastered this concept. Siddhartha is a completed soul, and an impeccable model for mankind’s eternal desire to know. 

Blog Post #35

Clouds of War

Heartache, misery, endless tears
Unheard cries of a broken heart
The days, the month, all of the years
Since our home was torn apart

I never meant to leave you alone
I never meant to make you cry
You're in my heart down to the last bone
It was never easy saying goodbye

I hear words of love you whispered to me
Though it seems like forever ago
I close my eyes only to see
In a starry night, your eyes glow

They couldn't hear your desperate scream
Do they know what does it mean?
To be so young and have a dream
Just like you my glorious queen

I never meant to leave you fatherless
Never wished to see your heart bleed
But clouds of war are just so merciless
It rains death on flowers and weeds

Don't you cry my baby girl!
Your loving dad is always here
Tears on your cheeks like precious pearls
Please don't you cry, my dearest dear



Samah Kalakh (Samah Ahmed Kalakh, Kuwait)

Blog Post #34

As the story of Siddhartha comes to an end, a lot is played out through the last few chapters. Siddhartha learns to live with loss, and to be happy with the completeness of the world. His understanding of life and death is full, and he no longer feels the need to find inner peace. He has discovered that by leaving his father he has caused his own son to leave him, and the circle of despair continues. There is nothing more he can do. Like a river, life flows on. Emotions of hate and sadness are anchors that will pass, like all things. Happiness is personal, and what Siddhartha wanted for his son was obviously not what he wanted. He must let him go out of love. "Water seeks out water; youth seeks out youth." (Hesse, 99) His son, made of his own flesh and blood, will also have a desire for Nirvana. It is up to him to find it for himself though. Siddhartha knows that inner peace cannot be taught.
In the end, Siddhartha finally achieves enlightenment and breaks the circle of life. "This countenance appeared unchanged once the depths of the thousandfold immensity had closed again beneath its surface; he was silently smiling, smiling quietly and gently, very kindly perhaps, perhaps mockingly, precisely as he had smiled the Sublime One." (Hesse, 126)  He has realized the one important thing, the only happiness he has ever seeked, and now he is free. To dwell on emotions and material possessions is not the true way to live, and Siddhartha has seen all of what he was meant to do. He is left with a life that he didn't need. Siddhartha spent so much time and energy trying to open the door to the spirit world that he almost forgot it wasn't there. Happiness was always right in front of him, but he had been scared to see it. Siddhartha finally gives up on his journey that he has been trying too hard on and simply accepts the world for what it is. Not just all the goodness and wealth the world has to offer, but the pain and sadness in it too. It is an endless circle with no beginning and no end. Siddhartha loves everything that has, is, and will happen. Nothing is completely sacred of sinful, and all babies carry death. The process of life has no direct path, but everything is effected by it. Once Siddhartha discovers that he has no control over anyone's destiny let alone his own, he has achieved complete Nirvana.

Siddhartha Blog Post #33

As a young boy living under his father in a Brahmin community, Siddhartha always felt that others expected too much out of him and he was always being too over-protected. He was loved and respected for being one of the more holy and honorable of the men there, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. He was living with his father in the manner to achieve enlightenment, and so far it wasn't going that well. It was too slow for Siddhartha. He felt like he had already gotten as much as he could from meditating all the time, and that cleansing your soul could only be done personally. No one could tell you to achieve Nirvana, that is a lone path to take. Siddhartha is a symbol for hope in his community, but he is still unhappy. He needs something more in his life, but he doesn't know what. "Thus was Siddhartha beloved by all. He brought them all joy, filled them with delight. To himself though, Siddhartha brought no joy, gave no delight." (Hesse, 4) After meditating with his best friend Govinda for most of the day, Siddhartha makes the decision to leave his community and trace his own path to enlightenment. Govinda loves Siddhartha, but he tries to convince him to stay. Siddhartha ignores him, and goes home to tell his father -- who is not the least bit supportive to his new life choice. Siddhartha has made up his mind, and his father knows he can't change that now. Siddhartha stands outside for the entire night in preparation. In the morning, his father tells him to go into the forest to be a Samana. His loyal friend, Govinda joins him as Siddhartha takes the first step into his new life. When Siddhartha and Govinda arrive at the scene of the Samanas, they are welcomed. Before long, They have both adapted the lifestyle and are working on their own enlightenment. Siddhartha has adapted the idea that all material possessions are distractions from the real happiness in life, and that the path to true Nirvana is through elimination of all pleasures. Want is a fake emotion, and the only way to be purified is to disconnect from all of it. The Samanas only do enough to survive, and don't indulge in any lust. "-all of these things were unworthy of being looked upon by him; it was all a lie, it all stank, stank of lies, it all gave the allusion of meaning happiness and beauty, and all of it was just putrefaction that no one would admit to." (Hesse, 12-13) Soon, Siddhartha grows weary of his lessons with the Samanas. He has the same problem: he has not yet achieved enlightement. Rumors spread that the Buddha has found Nirvana and broken the circle of rebirth, and Siddhartha decides to seek him. Govinda again tries to convince Siddhartha to stay, telling him that they have learned so much with the Samanas and that they may really be on to something. But Siddhartha is past that. He is prepared to leave with or without Govinda, and eventually but reluctantly Govinda follows him. Siddhartha is slowly making his way to enlightenment, and he has surpassed the Samanas in their study because he wasn't afraid to. He is filling himself with his own happiness, and before long he won't need anymore. Soon Siddhartha and Govinda arrive at a small village where the Buddha Gautama is said to reside. The two rest for the night, and when they wake in the morning they see a bustling crowd of Monks begging for food. Among them is the Gautama, and Siddhartha recognizes him immediately. "Thus did Gautama stroll toward the town to collect alms, and the two Samanas recognized him solely by his perfect calm, the stillness of his figure, in which there was no searching, no desire, no imitation, no effort to be discerned, only light and peace." (Hesse, 25) Siddhartha and Govinda are amazed by this character that has achieved the only thing anyone has ever searched for in their life -- complete Nirvana. It stuns them at how his peace is his own, and he could go on living forever but still not be afraid to die. Siddhartha knows that he must listen to what this great being has to say. After hearing a sermon about Nirvana, Siddhartha begins to question the contradictions in the Buddha's logic. He wonders how one is supposed to be at peace with everything, but yet still not desire it. Siddhartha meets with Gautama in the garden unexpectedly, and he questions him. Even now Govinda has taken an oath under Gautama, but Siddhartha has the same problem he always did. He hasn't learned much from Gautama, and without Govinda, Siddhartha leaves to find a new pathway to enlightenment. He feels robbed by the Buddha for taking his friend, but also thankful for getting faith in himself. The problem and solution Siddhartha is wrestling with is that he is the only one that realizes happiness cannot be taught. To achieve enlightenment is a personally journey, and when one thinks they have found it they probably have a long way to go. Siddhartha is trying to excavate the deep emotions inside him, whether they be good or bad. He wants to connect with himself full circle. His real journey is not the physical one he has set out on, but rather the battle being settled in his heart. He needs to find a purpose, and if his entire legacy is in his own head, so be it. Siddhartha knows that the only way he can be happy is if he allows himself to be.

After leaving the Buddha, Siddhartha is changed. His perspective on the world is different somehow. He decides that he is done with teachers and teaching. The only way he will be able to find what is best for him is to not have it explained by someone else, but to rule it out for himself. "Walking slowly away, Siddhartha realized he was a youth no longer, he had become a man. (Hesse, 33) He is almost tempted to go back to his father, but he knows that that is now in the past. He has nothing to gain from where he has already been. Siddhartha accepts the fact that he is alone, and from now on he was only caged by himself. It was completely up to him to find Nirvana. Siddhartha wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying nature and all the world has to offer around him as he does so. Eventually, he finds himself aboard a ferry going to a largely populated city. Siddhartha feels bad for not being able to pay the ferryman, but the kind stranger assures him that they will meet again and Siddhartha will bear a gift. Once he arrives at the city, Siddhartha is almost seduced by a mysterious woman. Deep down in his heart Siddhartha feels nothing, so he moves on. But he soon falls play to another woman named Kamala. Siddhartha feels like he has purpose when she smiles at him, and he knows that he must find a way to have her. "Now he was present, he belonged. Light and shade passed through his eyes, star and moon passed through his heart." (Hesse, 42)  After a bath and a shave, Siddhartha seeks Kamala to teach him in the way of love. Kamala explains that first Siddhartha must become a member of society, and Siddhartha obeys. Before long, Siddhartha is living a life with the others of Kamala's city. Siddhartha has learned that happiness can be impersonal, in the sense of being displayed through someone else that you were meant for. Before he met Kamala, Siddhartha felt like the world didn't move fast enough for him. Now that he knows how to pick the fruit bore in the present, he feels like he is running out of time. He has gone through the transformation of being of one to for one. Happiness is not concealed to one person, it has to be shared and cared for. The things people enjoy will soon pass, but when someone live for something or someone else, that is all that person will ever need. Love is a give/take equation. It takes a little to get started, but once sparked it can run on itself. Happiness is the same way. Everyone's happiness is different, and some people's Nirvana is to simply be with someone they care for. Siddhartha has found his one happy place. Soon, Siddhartha begins work in Kamaswami's store. His Samana ideals prove to be well rooted, as Siddhartha treats everything as a joke. He shrugs of his failures as easily as he does his success. Siddhartha is uninterested in the ways of wealth and honor, because he knows that those things can only provide limited happiness. Kamaswami eventually tempts Siddhartha by showing him that courting Kamala is better with money, and Siddhartha is beginning to feel wrapped up in the stresses of social restrictions again.  Still, Siddhartha has a noble reason for working as a businessman. Kamala is all that is important to him, and he relates with her on many different levels. "He-who in matters of love was still a boy and tended to hurl himself blindly and insatiably into pleasure as into an abyss- was now being instructed methodically in this doctrine." (Hesse, 57) Siddhartha knows that people like him and Kamala can never be in love. But for the time being, he is happy. His ego has been built up, and he knows that it will soon come crashing down on him. He is just trying to enjoy the time he has for the moment. His search for Nirvana is on hold. He has a temporary fix for his yearning, and he is feeling full from the false hope and trust he has placed in Kamala. Deep down he knows it will end, but the lesson he will learn will make all the hardship worth it. He is on a constant quest for knowledge, and soon he will have it -- one way or another.

Kafka/Modernism Reflection Essay

As a study of Modernism, there is no better to paint a vivid image of this dark take on reality than Franz Kafka. Modernism is a hard concept to define, but Kafka hits the nail right on the head. Some argue he could be the father of Modernism. Many people may simply shrug Kafka's aims at reality as just a depressed outlook, but there is a method to it that has helped many people and can be found as undeniably true. Modernism is commonly characterized as the explanation for why we work-and the answer is not because it makes people happy. People isolate themselves from what is really important in their lives when they get too caught up in the rat race of society, and one day they will look back at all that they have accomplished and wonder where their loved ones are to prove it to. Franz Kafka's most well-known piece of literature, The Metamorphosis, is the best example of Modernism the world has ever known and still is today. There is a lesson to be found on every page. Using the allegorical character known as Gregor for his expression of the Modernist interpretation of life, Kafka is truly the directing forerunner of Modernism.

As an example of just how judicious Kafka is with his Modernist ideals and knowledge, a college professor by the name of David Foster Wallace has admitted to almost giving up on teaching Kafka to his young students. In his speech, Laughing with Kafka, Foster argues that Kafka cannot be understood by the contemporary generation, simply because kids don't see the humor in his shrewd. "What Kafka seems able to do better than just about anyone else is to orchestrate the pressure's increase in such a way that it becomes intolerable at the precise instant it is released." (Wallace, 1) Like a joke, Kafka forces people to look at the dark underbelly of society when they least want to, but lets them go just in time for them to think about what they have done to create it. He pushes people to the point of breaking, but pacifies them just before the end as to give them time to take it all in. What most scholars don't get is that Kafka doesn't want to depress and upset his readers, he wants to change them for the better. He wants to shed light on what is not known to society and scare away our darkest fears-but only the people themselves can do that. Kafka is simply giving them the weapon of awareness. "The claim is that Kafka's funniness depends on some kind of radical literalization of truths we tend to treat as metaphorical." (Wallace, 2) People can't take all of Kafka's statements verbatim. What is sometimes hard to understand really isn't that difficult at all. People are just trying to avoid the answer that is right in front of their face. Kafka is opening society's eyes to its real life, the life it was created to live in. "Kafka's evocations are, rather, unconscious and almost sub-archtypal, the primordial little-kid stuff from which myths derive; this is why we tend to call even his weirdest stories nightmarish rather than surreal. "(Wallace, 2) People don't understand Kafka because they tend to look too far into it. It's hard to explain the joke after it has already been said, because then the joke isn’t funny anymore. It’s lost all its humor. To understand Kafka is on a personal level, it differs from each individual. That's the unseen virtuosity to Kafka's Modernist wisdom.

Another illustration of Kafka's brilliance is characterized through the similarities of a fellow modern revisionist of contemporary time, a Mr. Thomas C. Foster. Thomas Foster is a literature major and has been teaching on a professional level for over twenty-one years at the University of Michigan-Flint. His most famous piece of writing is an evaluation of Sigmund Freud. Foster's idea of communion and Vampirism is expressed in both his pieces Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion, and Nice to Eat You: Acts of Vampires. Through the somewhat bias positions Freud had on neurology, Foster tries to interpret Freud's famous quote, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." (Freud, 1) Foster is trying to shed light on the idea of eating with others, or in a somber case, eating someone. The idea of communion is simple: people eat food with others that they care for as to prove something to themselves, to remind each other of something. In a religious sense, taking communion is supposed to symbolize the blood and body of Christ, and by taking communion in church people are reminding themselves that Jesus died for them on the cross. "Here's the thing to remember about communions of all kinds: in the real world, breaking bread together is an act of sharing and peace, since if you're breaking bread you're not breaking heads." (Foster, 2) People tend to eat with others they care about, and others are not invited into their home without consent of food. Eating is sacred for all people. At the end of the day, families come together at the table to be with one another and enjoy a meal. Sharing food with loved one is always a time to respect, and always necessary. On the other hand, through a Modernist perspective, the symbolism of a Vampire eating is much different. When a Vampire sucks the blood out of its victim, it is literally and metaphorically sucking the life out of them. A Vampire feeds off others' souls, and takes what people have in the most selfish way possible. Like Gregor's father, Vampires get fat and lazy off other's toil. "Denying someone else's right to live in the face of our overwhelming demands." (Foster, 21) Vampires are perverse creatures. They take what they want without any regard or even a second thought to how it may affect their victim or others around them. They feed on others as to make themselves full of life, but not their own. Vampires take other's fortunes and exploit their victims’ values for their own benefit. They prey on others less than them, and draw from their hard work and self worth. Gregor's father could have been working the entire time Gregor was a human, but he only got a job once Gregor was no longer able to support his family. Sharing and taking are two major ideas tossed around by Kafka, and both are symbolized in The Metamorphosis. Communion is a thing to be celebrated, it represents sharing and love for one another. Vampirism is the opposite. Even though Communion is a good thing, it only causes Gregor more pain and makes the Vampirism of his father more unbearable. That is the depressing enlightenment of Kafka's allegories. 

As all of these ideas play into the story line of The Metamorphosis, the reader begins to see the irony, the humor, and the sadness expressed by Kafka intentionally targeting society. Kafka wants to teach everyone something, not only about themselves, but the world they live in too. The idea is a difficult one to dissect, but once people discover it for themselves it becomes eye-opening to say the least. Gregor is a young boy living and supporting his family in a small, drab apartment that he has trapped himself into. He never goes out, he never spends time in nature, and he has no friends at all. He is completely consumed by his work. Being a traveling salesman is all that he ever thinks about, all he is good for. With no real life, no benefit to society or any other characteristics distinguished from a mindless robot, Gregor is not alive. He will leave no real impact on anyone once he dies, and when he does-no one cares anymore. He is thrown out with the rest of the garbage. With nothing more to prove to the world than that of a vermin, Gregor literally becomes one. He is transformed into his true figure: an unclean animal not suited for sacrifice. "No request of Gregor's was of any use; no request would ever be understood." (Kafka, 8) Gregor is a bug, his human form is no longer a mask for what he is deep down. His true ethics and standards have revealed themselves, he can no longer hide himself. What little human values he has are still appreciable, but fading. "For, in fact, from day to day he perceived things with less and less clarity, even those only a short distance away." (Kafka, 13) Gregor has no one to blame but himself. He still cares for his family, and even in his hideous condition he still wants to help them. The only incentive for him to get better is to send his sister to the Conservative. Gregor is a truly selfless figure, but in a Modernist world that cannot be. He simply becomes easy prey for the Vampires. Even when Gregor is covered in garbage, injured by his own Father with an apple and ironically starving, he still tries his best to help and secure his sister. "She frightened Gregor twice every day. The entire time he trembled under the couch, and yet he knew very well that she would certainly have spared him gladly if it had only been possible to remain with the window closed in a room where Gregor lived." (Kafka, 13) Gregor has shut himself in. He wants to help his sister, but he is so focused on doing good for others that he forgot about himself. In the end, with no one to care for him, Gregor dies from starvation. He was no more than the tiny, broken shell of a bug that remains of him, and his memory will only be portrayed as the scrawny little burden to the family with no friends, no life, and no evidence of his own existence. In a Modernist way, Gregor did the best he could with what he had. But he was focused on all the wrong things. All he wanted to do was help his family, but that turned out to be all he did. He was lost in himself. He had nowhere to go besides work, and that is a sad fact to admit. Gregor was living, but not alive. The Modernist world killed him, but it was ultimately his own stubbornness that ended his faulty existence. 

Throughout all of Kafka’s writing, there is a parable to be found. Kafka means to help people, but in the end those who are willing to listen can only help themselves. Kafka can only give you a push towards freedom. Happiness is not money, a high paying job, or even family. Happiness is simply doing what is enjoyed because life will be over soon. People live, try their hardest to leave a positive mark on this earth to remember them by, and then they die. It’s as simple as that. Kafka shares only one message throughout all of his writing: life is meant to be lived. With the short time all people are given on this earth they shouldn’t spend it worrying about money or cornering merits. Enjoy each minute, because the best parts don’t last long enough to go back and appreciate them. Life isn’t protracted enough for that. Life is a complicated ride, and it’s impossible to determine where it will go next. Don’t become a Vampire, and don’t become a mindless bug. Own all of what is good, and expel the bad habits formed in time. Experience life, because when it comes down to it, not a lot matters after it passes by. 

  

Blog Post #33

After reading both evaluations of Sigmund Freud's Acts of Communion and Nice to Eat You: Acts of Vampires, it has become evident that in both Freud is trying to stress the significance of eating (with) others. Eating (with) people has always been sacred, not only on a biblical level but on all levels. Having dinner at the end of the day with your family is always a time to reflect, and a time to enjoy. When you are meeting your girlfriend's parents for the first time, you always have dinner with them. Not just because its the formal thing to do, but it signifies that they are welcoming you into their home to share with them. In Freud's Acts of Communion, the point of sacristy and sharing is pushed through as a religious session. "Here's the thing to remember about communions of all kinds: in the real world, breaking bread together is an act of sharing and peace, since if you're breaking bread you're not breaking heads." (Freud, 8) Eating with others is a time for peace, and one not to be interrupted. It brings people together on common ground and you really get to know a person by what (or who) they eat. People will always be willing to share their food with you if they truly think you're worth it. "We may not, for instance, accept a dinner invitation from someone we don't care for." (Freud, 8) Eating, taking communion, sharing and socializing with people over food or drink has always been part of our culture. It's just a nice thing to do, and eating with people you enjoy being with will always be more and more fun. If you dislike that person, you will know as soon as you attempt to make conversation. It's hard to be friends with people you don't care for, but sometimes you have to just put up with them. You'll know where you stand soon enough.

As for Freud's take on vampires in Nice to Eat You: Acts of Vampires, Freud stresses the symbolic meaning behind vampires. A vampire is a creature of the night that sucks your blood, everyone knows that. But Freud argues for much more. He claims that a vampire is an allegory for the selfish, like Gregor's father in The Metamorphosis. "Denying someone else's right to live in the face of our overwhelming demands." (Foster, 21) Vampires take others' fortunes and exploit their victim's values for their own benefit. They prey on others less than them, and draw from their hard work and self worth. Vampires are the worst thieves of all. Fraud argues from the modernist idea that we are all vampires. "Placing our desires, particularity our uglier ones, above the needs of another." (Foster, 21) We are always thinking about ourselves. We are the all singing, all dancing crap of the earth. (Fight Club) We demonstrate what we were taught a good life looks like on the outside, but only from building ourselves up on others' failure. All of these ideas play into Franz Kafka's ideas of modernism, and all are pretty depressing to admit. Either way, eating others or just eating with them has always been and always will be sacred.

Blog Post #32

For this week's blog post, we were asked to foster the idea of Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis. That is no simple task. The idea and the representation made of the young selfless man named Gregor into a hideous bug is hard to dissect. On one level you could look at it through a Modernist lens. Gregor is a young, selfless man of a hard life. He is too good for his own body. Even when he is about to die, about to lose his own sad example of a life, all Gregor can do is try and help his family. He is a bug, but a caring one. He is doing the best he can in his awful state. He is giving up on himself, and his family is too selfish to even notice. They only care who will put food on the table. Gregor's outlook becomes bleaker and bleaker. "For, in fact, from day to day he perceived things with less and less clarity,even those only a short distance away." (Kafka, 13) Gregor is on his last limb. His bug form has given up on him. Even with a broken leg, an apple flung from his father's hand lodged in his back, and waste all over his cramped confinement of a room, Gregor wishes he could return to his human form and send his sister to The Conservatory, to show his love somehow. "she frightened Gregor twice every day. The entire time he trembled under the couch, and yet he knew very well that she would certainly have spared him gladly if it had only been possible to remain with the window closed in a room where Gregor lived." (Kafka, 13) Every time his sister came into his room to feed him or clean up a little, he hid to honor her being there. He wishes he could show his appreciation somehow. Gregor has practically single-highhandedly preserved his family's state of well being, and he is still trying to do more. Gregor is the representation of a perfect soul. He is completely selfless, something that is not allowed to exist in a Modernist world.  
Another way to look at the representation of Gregor's Metamorphosis is through a &&& standpoint. 

Blog Post #31

As we continue to discuss Franz Kafka and the Modernist idea, we were asked to evaluate and study the ideas of morality, existentialism, and empathy. All of these terms are hard to define, and the exact clarified meaning is debatable. In my own opinion, all three of these mean something that cannot be completely explained. To me, morality is like pity. To have morality is to have values, and values make you human. I feel that to have morality is to be a good person at heart. It is hard to have morality, and very few people are truly moral. To become a man is to define your own values, and to set your morals in stone. Your values cannot be changed once you state them as your own. Existentialism is a little different. I see Existentialism as being an active member of society. You have to do more than just exist. It is sometimes hard to get motivated for something like school or a long work day, but for the benefit of those you love and not only yourself is to be an Existential person. Empathy is one of the hardest things for a person to be. To be empathetic is almost impossible. Doing the right thing even when no one is looking is sometimes hard, but empathy can help you do it. Not a lot of people are empathetic these days, but I am trying to get there. If I could be moral, existential, and empathetic all at the same time all the time, I would be a perfect person. Obviously that's not true, but I will try my hardest. I hope to improve myself through these rights.

The more specific definition for morality is a little more powerful. Morality is the idea that everyone you know and have ever felt for has taken you into their heart and you have taken a little bit of them into you. Humans sympathize on a primitive level, and when it comes down to it we are all brothers and sisters... kind of. Existentialism is a little more debatable too. Existentialism is a way of describing people who are truly kind. To be selfless is to be Existential. There has been few people throughout history that could be defined under Existentialism, but even fewer are truly kind. The definition is skewed, and to be completely selfless is merely undefined also. Empathy is also hard to confine into a specific rule. Empathy is feeling emotion, any emotion for someone. When you see someone that is sad, unconsciously, you also feel sad. You have a connection with this person and it is human nature to want to help. You sympathize people, even if they are a complete stranger. All of these ideas are lined up in one direction: why do we feel? We have these funny things called emotions and for some reason we listen to them. It's all debatable, but in the end we have to obey what we know is always right. I bet that if you raised a child from birth in a complete isolation, he would still feel all the emotions and connections any other child would to his/her parents. You just know. It's not debatable that we have family, and it's also no surprise we relate to the people we love. Emotion is always differing, but we all feel. It is human nature to love, and you have to trick yourself into hate.

 

Blog Post #30: Kafka Reflection

Throughout all three parts of Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis, there is a lot of change and degeneration of the main character, Gregor. Gregor obviously goes through the physical transformation from a young door to door salesman to a dung beetle, but he goes through many different levels of mental and emotional change too. When Gregor was initially turned into a bug, he was still the same person on the inside. But as time dragged on and Gregor's condition worsened, his human traits began to disappear along with his state of emotional being. "He could eat only if his entire panting body worked in a coordinated way—but also because the milk, which otherwise was his favorite drink and which his sister had certainly placed there for that reason, did not appeal to him at all." (Kafka, 9) Even though he is still a conscious human being on the inside, his outer beetle appearance doesn't work with him. His emotional status is slowly being chipped away, and the things he loved in his human form now seem somewhat lesser. Even though being turned into a beetle could be the worse thing that could happen to a person, Gregor does get one advantage out of it. He begins to do what he never had time for in his human body-reflect. Now that all Gregor can do is sleep, think, and roll in his own filth, he finally found time to look back on his life. As he recalls, he also begins to realize just how little he lived for, and how plain his life was. "People don’t like travelling salesmen. I know that. People think they earn pots of money and thus lead a fine life. People don’t even have any special reason to think through this judgment more clearly." (Kafka, 7) As Gregor tries to remember the happy times of his life, he realizes that not enough of it was spent with the ones he loves. He was ripped from his real life and put into a fake one every day when he woke up to go to work. He was so caught up in keeping his family together and paying off his parents debt that he forgot all about his own personal happiness and the bond to his significant others. As Gregor begins to to lose moral, his physical condition worsens. He gets sicker and smaller. His body is giving up, and taking his emotional worth down with it. Gregor can barely move and has already given up eating. He is of no use to himself. "No request of Gregor's was of any use; no request would even be understood." (Kafka, 8) Finally, after dwindling in a half-alive state, Gregor dies to a demeaning burial. His family has accepted the fact that he is no longer the person he used to be, and that there is no trace of Gregor in this bug they no longer feel the need to take care of. Gregor died a long time ago, the bug he was condemned to has only just passed. No memory of Gregor is left except for the tiring burden he became to his family. The life of Gregor was interrupted abruptly, but not a lot was interfered with. He found that the only thing he could not do in his beetle form that he was doing in his past life was working, and knowing that is what ultimately made him give up. 

Another central theme in The Metamorphosis is the perception of Gregor's room, and what it represents in comparison to his life. When Gregor wakes up and before he knows he is truly been turned into a bug, his room is described as plain and tidy, ready for the work day. His walls are surrounding him like a coffin, and the door to his room is locking him in. The window is dull and grey, leaving no escape from his life he has cornered himself into. The picture of the elegant woman he has cut out and frame on his wall shows just how lonely and disconnected he is from himself. He unlocks himself from his room to go to his abusive job where he gets paid to work off his parents debt by getting doors slammed in his face. He has ended his life without even knowing it. "He was only just inside his room when the door was pushed shut very quickly, bolted fast, and barred." (Kafka, 24) His family has only had a part in trapping Gregor, he had himself demoralized long ago. His attitude, his lifestyle, and his actions have all but become automatic and sad. He no longer has any characteristics or even a personality. He has no preference, no disgust to himself, and most depressingly, no self respect. "Gregor squirmed his way through the accumulation of junk and moved it. At first he was forced to do this because otherwise there was no room for him to creep around, but later he did it with a

growing pleasure, although after such movements, tired to death and feeling wretched, he did not budge again for hours." (Kafka, 21) Gregor has given up on his life. He is still living, but his identity is missing. He does nothing more than a beetle, and that is why he has turned into one. Gregor knows that something is missing from his life, he just can't pinpoint what. He is too far lost in the sadness, and too far detached from the life he was meant to live. "For him it was as if the way to the unknown nourishment he craved was revealing itself." (Kafka, 22) Gregor knows that true happiness is always through the ones you love, but he is still lost in the way of expressing that. He wishes he could send his sister to the Conservatory, but he doesn't even remember why. His social appearance is torn to nothing, and his kind heart has been crushed by every agonizing day with no yielding or reward. The message so relentlessly driven in Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis is simply this: life your life to the fullest, and the happy moments should never be traded for money. Don't let yourself become a bug, work not to see your family less, but to see them more. Happiness is not wealth. 

Blog Post #29

This past week, as we finished our essays on What Dreams May Come and wrapped up our Divine Comedy project, we began reading Franz Kofka's The Metamorphosis. Kofka is known as one of the most influential modernists in all of history, and The Metamorphosis is one of his best works. It opens up the human mind to the ideas of self-oppression, inner tunnel vision, and most of all, self-loathing. Kofka is a hard piece to read mostly for the extreme sadness expressed, and I haven't read too far in it yet. So far, I have only seen one layer of symbolism expressed: blindness. "The stresses of selling are much greater than the actual work going on at head office, and, in addition to that, I still have to cope with the problems of travelling, the worries about train connections, irregular bad food, temporary and constantly changing human relationships, which never come from the heart." (Kafka, 2) The main character, not even having the slightest concern that he is now a vile bug of some sort, is repressing himself. The dark, twisted reality he has cornered himself into is just now catching up to him, and yet he still refuses to acknowledge it. "'What’s happened to me,' he thought. It was no dream. His room, a proper room for a human being, only somewhat too small, lay quietly between the four well-known walls." (Kafka, 1) The horrible soul-crushing world he lives in is almost too hard to bear, so his mind has created a new one for him.
My prediction for the plot of this depressing story is with a bleak outlook. I think it is only going to get harder to read. I have barely made it past the first few pages and I'm already feeling a little suicidal. There is hints that the main character will persevere and the plot will come to a happy ending, but by this point in the year I know better. I think that the story of this lonely bug will come to a devastating end.  "They would only have had to push their arms under his arched back to get him out of the bed, to bend down with their load, and then merely to exercise patience so that he could complete the flip onto the floor, where his diminutive legs would then, he hoped, acquire a purpose." (Kafka, 3) The reason I believe this story will end grimly is summed up in this phrase. As a normal person would react to this situation as a complete horror, Gregory is simply trying to carry out his day. He is blind to anything in the future except what he is told, and the end result is not always pretty for people of that nature. He is too caught up in the rat race, as some would say. "Things are not yet going as well as I thought. But things are all right with me. How suddenly this can overcome someone! Only yesterday evening everything was fine with me." (Kafka, 5) Gregory is a prisoner to himself, and to everyone trying to keep him free. Sometimes when you work so hard to become something, you get there only to find you have nothing to show for it. Life is complicated like that, and without stopping to smell the roses every once in a while, you could be doomed to live a very sad, dark life. You may not turn into a bug, but you will be no better than one.

Blog Post # 27

Franz Kofka was a German-language novelist of the 1880, and was one of the most influential writers of his time. Born in the Prague, Hungry (now the Czech Republic) on July 3, 1883, Kofka lived in a modest home with his middle class family outside the Old Town Square. He was raised by his mother, Julie Kofka in his home with five other brothers and sisters until he was sent to school in 1889 at a German boy's elementary school outside of Mansa Street. Franz was raised by the Jewish faith, and of the time it was expected that a Jewish boy would get good grades and exceed educationally in school. Franz did, and never thought of himself as much more. He did well, but did not pursue any kind of higher education after a few years of Philosophy at Warsaw. He was said to be a shy boy, never really having much to say but when he did it was profound.




After his studies, Franz went out into the world and was first hired by an insurance company. Franz worked there for less than a year, and didn't enjoy it much. It took too much time out of his writing-which was growing in importance. Franz was said to develop the first "hard hat" for worker's safety while at the firm, but his job never took off that much from there. He was a simple paper-pusher, and was only working to keep food on the table. In 1915 Franz received a letter for the draft of WWI, but due to his tuberculosis he was diagnosed with soon before kept him out. He tried to enlist many times, but the army wouldn't accept him. Franz never seemed to have time for a family, but he did admit to be tortured by sexual addiction. People often regarded him as emotionally repulsive, and not someone that you would want to hang around with. He had a dry sense of humor, and didn't posses much of a personality to mention. Later in his life he found an interest in swimming which he proved to be quite good at, but soon that too had to be sacrificed for more writing time.



Franz Kofka had many influences on people not only of his own time, but is still opening people's eyes today. His writing was inspiring, dark, and very well written. He inspired a form of fluency called "Kafkaesque" to set in motion a whole act of speaking out against injustice, particularity in Germany, and is commemorated in Warsaw every year. Kafka is rarely quoted by others, but many idealists have similar opinions as his stated in his books. Kafka often painted a picture of a dark, strict bureaucratic world. His symbolism and influence helped shape our world today, and has been used to stand out against tyranny all throughout history.

 

Franz Kofka died on June 3rd, 1924 at the young age of 40. His influence lived on, but he as a person was gone forever. As a result of the tuberculosis he had been suffering from since a child, his condition worsened into a terrible throat problem. His official cause of death was starvation, but only because his throat made it too painful to eat. At his funeral, only his immediate family mourned. Franz was not yet famous, and his ideas weren't always shared mutually. We now know that he was a great writer, and even if he wasn't the most fun person to be around socially, its what he spoke out against that counts. His first piece, The Metamorphosis, wasn't published until almost 20 years after he died.




Nervi, Mauro M. "The Kafka Project." The Kafka Project. Linkit, 06 June 1990. Web. 18 Mar. 2014. <http://www.kafka.org/>.

Blog Post # 26

As we transition from Dante's Inferno and begin our evaluation of Vincent Ward's What Dreams May Come, we were asked to compare the two works in a way that each of these pieces would reflect each other. After hearing all the presentations about Dante's Inferno and watching What Dreams May Come, I see that there are many similarities and references to Dante in the film. The first and most symbolic of all the relations was Chris Neilsen's guide into Hell, The Tracker. He is the depiction of Virgil. Both are guides into the underworld, and both act as a mentor to the one they lead. Later on the watcher finds out that The Tracker is actually Albert, the medical expert Chris trained under in college. Albert led Chris in his life, and now he leads his soul through Hell. They have a special kind of relationship, one that allows them to always count on each other. It also shows the path of life, in the sense of the soul. Albert was black in a physical condition on Earth, but his soul always viewed himself as the old wise man he was when he appeared to Chris in Heaven. Together they pass through many regions of Hell similar to those described in Dante's Inferno. The gates of Hell is a ship graveyard, filled with battleships and other wreckage. Violent, tortured souls slum about, waiting to be lowered in through the gates. The first level, or plane, they both reach is the "sea of faces". This is the Illustration of The River of Styx. It is not exactly the same, but you can see the connection. When Chris falls into Annie's personal Hell, he finds it to be their house in a giant upside down church-the church they were married in. This is using Dante's idea of Contrapasso. The sin the soul commits should fit the crime. Each person is punished differently, but they are all divided up into different levels. Albert helps Chris, telling him to make sure he comes back out of the house in under three minutes otherwise he will be pulled down into Annie's world she created for herself. When Chris decides to stay with Annie, Albert helps them both escape before both of them got stuck in Hell forever. Albert is not only a great friend that Chris will have for many more lives to come, but also the ideal Virgil to him. He fits the part, and plays it beautifully.
The second most notable association between Dante's Inferno and What Dreams May Come is the gates of Hell. Both appear as a huge, gaping, horrifying place that you usually wouldn't return from. They both symbolize the many people sinning, for the gate is swarmed with incoming souls in both these pieces. Each of the main characters make it back out of Hell, and are both led by a guide through the gate. The entrance of Hell is a dark place, one with people of all wars and all sins, usually violent ones. The gates of Hell in What Dreams May Come  is a ship graveyard, filled with all the tired souls of soldiers and sunken battleships. This is the wrathful level of Hell. You could get lost in it, and all those waiting are violent, not saying that soldiers go to Hell. The main and final ship is called the Cerberus, the three headed dog of Greek Mythology that is so often used in Dante. Everything is red and burning, and all the souls carry a white flag - surrendering their will and giving in. War is Hell, and this representation in both of these works says something. The use of boats as the main form of transportation all throughout What Dreams May Come is symbolic, its trying to make it seem older and more connected to Dante. The colors noted all point to those represented in the many Cantos of Hell, and the sense of life and what to make of it ties in with Dante's reason for writing The Divine Comedy. In the end, both of these works were working for one simple thing: the realization of what happens when we die, be that good or bad. There are different beliefs, different religions, all kinds of opinions from all over the world but one may never know for sure until it happens. Life is a mystery, but not one to solve. Dante's Inferno and What Dreams May Come are both beautiful representations of what the afterlife could be.