In further Anne news, I watched the third installment of the Anne of Green Gables Movies, "The Continuing Story." It has nothing to do with the books, and my opinion is that they should have left the fan fiction to the fan websites. The story didn't make much sense, and everybody seemed old and depressed, even before they all went off to war.
I've been very lazy this week. I'm trying to decide what to do next--I need to look for a job, but I might be away for a month and a half this summer, so am not sure if I should wait until after that to look for one, or what. I'm also not sure what kind of job to look for, a throwaway one or one that has some sort of future. I'm kind of in suspense to see how the exams of last week went, which will affect the decision, but I probably won't find out for a few more weeks.
Today I put some pictures in an album--some engagement ones, a few wedding ones, and the honeymoon pictures of Colorado. I want to make a scrapbook type one for the wedding, but just put these in the magnetic-flap pages for now--those things are so annoying, almost impossible to get flat. I've also been working my way through more Agatha Christie mysteries and taking various naps.
I'm back from exams. They were okay. I was planning on writing more about them, but internet access was kind of scarce last week (maybe that's among the many improvements being made to I-House).
I haven't done much since I've been back--have mostly been lazing around. Have also been re-reading some cozy books, Agatha Christie mysteries and the like. I’ve also started re-reading "Rilla of Ingleside" online. That's the last in the Anne of Green Gables series (about a girl growing up on Prince Edward Island, and later her family), the title character is Anne's daughter and the book takes place during World War I. When I read it last I was at a more accepting age, and now was having trouble remembering how the uber-idyllic world of Anne met up with the war, and whether the war changed Anne's world at all. The book has a very definite point of view on the war. The following quotes especially caught my attention:
"'Without shedding of blood there is no anything,' said Mr. Meredith, in
the gentle dreamy way which had an unexpected trick of convincing his
hearers. 'Everything, it seems to me, has to be purchased by
self-sacrifice. Our race has marked every step of its painful ascent
with blood. And now torrents of it must flow again. No, Mrs. Crawford, I
don't think the war has been sent as a punishment for sin. I think it is
the price humanity must pay for some blessing--some advance great
enough to be worth the price--which we may not live to see but which
our children's children will inherit.'"
This is spoken by the town pastor. Later, regarding the possibility that his own son might be killed in the war, he adds: "'Whatever I felt, it could not alter my belief--my assurance that a country whose sons are ready to lay down their lives in her defence will win a new vision because of their sacrifice.'"
There is one "pacifist" in town, who is roundly despised by all the other characters. Weirdly, what he has to say definitely resonates with what anti-war activists say today: "He prayed that the unholy war might cease--that the deluded armies being driven to slaughter on the Western front might have their eyes opened to their iniquity and repent while yet there was time--that the poor young men present in khaki, who had been hounded into a path of murder and militarism, should yet be rescued--" This speech was labeled "sedition and treason," and the pray-er was forcibly ejected from church by one of the book's more colorful characters.
Another dissenting voice was heard earlier in the book: "'It's a commercial war when all is said and done and not worth one drop of good Canadian blood,' said a stranger from the shore hotel."
These objections to war sound eerily familiar--and perhaps, in historical retrospect, were even right, or at least something close to right. Yet these views, which today are usually considered to be rooted in a "moral" point of view even by those who disagree with them, in Rilla aren't even allotted decent characters to espouse them. How did sweet Anne get so bloodthirsty, and why is the opposing viewpoint considered so iniquitous?
A devotion to high ideals is very characteristic of the Anne books. Both Anne and her closer friends are guided only by their ideals and their ideas of what is right--not because this is the right way to live, but because it is the only way to live. Anne’s ideals sometimes come into conflict with practicality, notably in an episode in which her view of corporal punishment is modified by the realities of being a schoolteacher (in Anne of Avonlea, she tries to win the respect of an incorrigible student through patience and gentleness, but after she finally gives in and “paddles” him (though not cruelly, the book informs us) he surprises her by according her respect because "'that whipping you gave him was 'just as good as a man's.'"—remember, these books take place in the 1800s). However, practicality never supercedes morality as her guiding star; if it did, “Anne” would cease to exist. It's one of the things I admire about the Anne books--reading them makes me want to be a better person. Modern reading material tends to reflect people’s actual behavior, rather than attempting to lead readers to aspire to something better—something which probably would be seen as hypocritical or not true to reality.
I don't know if real people were more idealistic back then than they are now, but the impression one gets from reading the literature of the period is that having a good character (being a good person) was more important than personal appearance or wealth. Not that there is no morality now, but when moral rules come into conflict with practicality or convenience, morality usually loses, as long as there is no obvious victim involved. Interestingly, this time of higher ideals existed at a time when life was much more difficult, not to say brutal, than now. This can even be seen in the Anne books, so often considered as the epitome of the cozy and idyllic: Anne's parents died when she was a baby, and she was passed from one drunken abusive family to another, where she was used as a household servant; and finally she was passed to an orphan asylum. Apparently in those days you could drop off any child you found inconvenient at such an institution, or pick one up if you found yourself in need of household help, and there was no child protective services to watch out for him or her. Hence, it's not that nothing bad ever happened to Anne, but Anne because of her devotion to her ideals, and with the help and guidance of some pretty ordinary people, was able to transcend her terrible childhood.
However, I believe that this today morality itself is seen as suspect. The morality of Anne’s time is now considered to have been a tool to enforce the social hierarchy and exclude people who were different in any way (in the Anne books, though none of the main characters are particularly socially exalted, the “French” for example are definitely an underclass). Even more, this system of morality is considered culpable in getting a lot of people needlessly killed, the first example of this being World War I, the main event of “Rilla of Ingleside.”
I don't know much about World War I, but I’ve been given to understand it was one of the more pointless wars in history, and didn't resolve anything at all. You wouldn't get that impression from reading "Rilla of Ingleside." The men in the book went to war out of loyalty to England, as they would be loyal to their own mother; they believed they were defending not only their own country, but fighting to prevent the violation of innocence and to preserve peace and goodness around the world. In effect, they were fighting for Anne of Green Gables.
I'm not sure whether soldiers in real life fought the war for such ideals; but in any case the effects of WWI seem to have been just the opposite. My purely literary knowledge of the era seems to indicate that the spiritual aftermath of the war involved an increase in cynicism, the "Lost Generation," and the false panacea of communism; as well as the beginning of the breakdown of traditional roles, social systems, and political configurations. L.M. Montgomery herself seems to feel that somehow the world went wrong after the war. Emily Climbs, the second in a semiautobiographical trilogy and published in 1925, begins like this:
“Emily Byrd Starr was alone in her room, in the old New Moon farmhouse at Blair Water, one stormy night in a February of the olden years before the world turned upside down.”
Montgomery wrote Anne books both before and after the war (“Rilla” was published in 1921). The books which took place before the war (I calculate that the Anne series took place beginning in the 1880s, and only a few short stories took place after WWI) seem to be looking back to a better time. They seem to be beautifully untouched by any of the harsher realities of the outside world--it's not that bad things never happen, but the bad things that do happen are mostly normal, natural things, illness, death, loneliness, and so forth, never carnage or atrocities or cruelty. Though Anne had a difficult childhood, she is never abused or molested as she certainly would be if the books were written today; and she is (unrealistically) able to transcend these early bad conditions without lasting psychological effects; while the women of “Rilla” must contend with stories of rape (I guess that’s what they’re alluding to in that veiled way) and the bayonetting of babies by “the Hun”.
In contrast, it is my impression that Montgomery's books which take place post-war are always trying to take into account a more modern, hardened outlook on the world, in which the world of Anne is perhaps dying away. If this is true, it is the first time Anne’s ideals played her false. The view espoused in Rilla of the protection of peace and innocence turned out to be largely a false or at least an unfulfilled one. Is this where our current moral and spiritual state had its beginning--because such high ideals once led us astray, now all high and exclusively-held ideals are considered suspect? And practicality and cynism are better--and safer--guides than ideals, whose usual role is to get a lot of people pointlessly killed?
I don't know if what I've said about our current spiritual state is true. Most political points of view have at least formal ties to some system of morality. However, it seems that morality is no longer our master, but our servant, a point of view that would never be recognized by Anne. My rather melodramatic question to myself is, was Anne a casualty of war? Could she, or should she, survive in the 21st century? It seems to me that ideals are what makes us human, but sometimes, it seems, they also get us needlessly killed. How do we hang on to this most important part of ourselves, which gives our lives meaning and purpose, without letting our ideals blind us to actual facts?
Did Mr. Meredith's "blessing" and "new vision" materialize? It doesn't seem so. It seems, in fact, that the war was a factor in the breakdown of Montgomery's "good life" of the Anne saga; and ultimately led to an even more destructive war and a loss of faith in ideals and morality. Was Anne wrong, and if so where did she go wrong? I'm not sure if "Rilla" says more about feelings during the war, or about a retrospective attempt to ascribe meaning to a seemingly pointless war; and I'm not sure whether the book illustrates Montgomery's unique view or a more widespread worldview. However, from an even farther removed vantage point, I think that the important elements of Anne's world--peace, innocence, and love are worth defending, even at the loss of one's own life. A morality which holds that the preservation of human life is more important than the preservation of that which makes us human (or more correctly, that which makes us the children of God), can’t be correct. However, when and how does war play a role in preserving these good things--if it ever does?
I'm in Chicago for the week, taking comprehensive exams--one exam per day. I won't say this hasn't had an effect on my mental state. For a while during the drive here yesterday, I started doubting the existence of Libya. I'm not sure why.
I'm staying at the International House on campus, a sort of dormitory for graduate students from other countries as well as this. They were going to tear it down due to its incredibly antiquated infrastructure (do buildings have infrastructures?) but there was an outcry amongst the students so they're doing massive renovations instead. The place is an odd combination of characteristics--it's very instutional, but 1930s institutional; and it's clear not much has changed since then (when it was built). The lighting throughtout the building is rather oppressive. It's somehow simultaneously dim and harsh, and yellowish; kind of like the lights in underground parking garages. Amongst the usual dormitory-like fixtures are scattered massive pieces of antique furniture. I think it would be an okay place to live, as dorms go, and it certainly gives an accurate impression of what the U of C is like as a whole (at least the simultaneously gloomy and harsh part. I'm not bitter).
The bulbs in our garden are coming up! So even though there was snow on the ground this morning, and it's gray, cold, windy, and murky out, it's officially Spring!
[Warning: This blog entry showcases an unattractive side of my personality, so if you are eager to maintain your good opinion of me, please skip. If you never cared for me much to begin with, however, go ahead and read on.]
An open letter to all persons who may at some point wish to sell me something:
I have nothing against salespeople, really. Nor do I have anything against most of the products they sell. Yet most of my encounters with salespeople, or sales tactics in general, have inspired in me the desire never to have anything to do with that person, product, or company, ever again; in addition they have caused me to wish that I never had to buy anything ever again. Now, I assume that sales practices are intended to appeal the broadest possible segment of the population; yet when I have discussed the following practices with people, they tend to agree with me. Perhaps my acquaintances and I are exceptional, but perhaps not. In any case, here are some requests I would make of all those who wish to sell things to me.
Please do not call me by my first name, unless we are already close friends or relatives. This is an informal social world we live in, and if I met you socially, calling one another by first names would be the expected thing to do, and would be no more than friendly. However, we are not meeting socially, we are meeting in a business context in which you wish me to purchase the goods or services you are selling; hence I would appreciate it if you would not assume familiarity, but rather would show courtesy by calling me by my last name with its appropriate prefix. I would, of course, afford you the same courtesy.
Please do not call me at my home uninvited. In my opinion this should come under the category of crank calls: an illegal form of harrassment. I have no idea how this abusive business practice has persisted; everyone hates it and I can't imagine that anybody actually purchases goods and services through this sort of solicitation, but apparently they do, unfortunately. I may not get around to telling you this during the call, since I am eager to get rid of this annoyance and get back to my life as quickly as possible, but I will never, ever, under any circumstances purchase anything from any company who feels it appropriate to come barging into my life, without my permission, with no regard for whether I'm working, sleeping, socializing, mourning, waiting for an important call, whatever.
Even more importantly, please do not demand personal information from me. This is not only annoying, it is offensive--it would be rude even for those closest to me to ask for such information. The main culprits on my dislike list for this practice are those who wish to consolidate my student loans for me. Er, if I wanted my student loans consolidated, I'd have it done through a financial instution that I've actually *heard of before*, not some anonymous voice over the phone. If I had already agreed to do business with you, of course you would need the information; but if you are asking for it beforehand, it only makes me suspect that you may be a criminal.
Here is an example of what I'm talking about, based on an actual occurrence:
Representative of phone company X: "Hi, Michele! How's it going? So, I see you've switched long distance companies. We'd really like to have you back! So tell me, how much are you paying with the new company?"
Michele's mental response: (None of your !#@$ business, you !#@$ jerk.)
Michele's verbal response: "Um, I don't think that's any of your business." (Wish I'd said something more polite, but was pretty rattled that some stranger would call me up, unbidden, act like he's sure I want to be best friends with him, and ask me about details of my finances.)
R of PC X: "Oh, come on! I'm not going to do anything with your info!"
Michele: *click*
An interesting psychological tidbit about me and I imagine lots of others out there: Advertising doesn't work. I rarely, if ever, purchase anything because I've seen an ad for it. I buy stuff that I like, or that people that I trust say is good, or for more significant purchases I might do research on which product is the best. If your ad is interesting, I'll pay attention, but I'll remember the ad without having any recollection as to what it was for. However, if like most ads, yours features annoying music, migraine-inducing visual imagery, and non-stop jabbering, I will not be moved to purchase your product. Rather, I will make good use of the mute button, leave the room, or turn off TV altogether.
If your ad is for something inherently disgusting, or deals with topics which should only be discussed with a doctor or one's closest loved ones (such as feminine hygiene products, STD remedies (still can't believe they actually put these on television), or some type of Viagara drug), I will not only not watch the ad, I might just throw my TV or radio out the window. Especially if you put them on during dinnertime. Ugh.
Yours truly,
Mrs. Rau
Andy recently re-introduced me to this childhood taste-treat. I, like everybody else who grew up in the 70s, consumed my share of Franco-American's canned offerings, but I hadn't had any for a solid couple of decades. Andy insisted that they were good though, and they are extremely tasty, I must say.
However, today I made the mistake of looking too closely at the can which packaged my delicious lunch. This reminded me that the many advertising images which bombard us from every direction every day are not designed to be looked at too closely. If one does, one discovers that not only do such images have no internal sense or logic, but they also seem to hack at the very foundations of one's sense of order and reality. I think this goes to show that the countercultural 60s hippies have not given up their psychadelic expand-your-consciousness ethos, rather they are now firmly in control of corporate America.
The can depicts a large Spaghetti-O, with eyes and a tongue, the latter apparently licking its "lips." It wields a bowl filled with proportionately smaller Spaghetti-O's in one hand, while the other arm is flexed to exhibit a protruding muscle. "Eat my family, and you too can be as strong as a Spaghetti-O!" it seems to coax, in a simultaneously ghoulish, whimsical, and nonsensical fashion.
The can's label also wastes a lot of space trying to convince me that Spaghetti-Os are, in fact, incredibly nutritious. "GOOD SOURCE OF PROTEIN! ESSENTIAL VITAMINS AND MINERALS!" it proclaims, in a wacky font (punctuation mine). Elsewhere, it informs me that Spaghetti-Os provide a full serving of Veggies & Grains.
What's this? As a further proof of the eminent goodness of Spaghetti-Os, the label announces that Spaghetti-Os is the winner of the 2003 Gold Taste (award? it doesn't say) of the Quality Institute International, for Canned Pasta.
It no doubt took a highly-paid team of advertising executives to put together this label. It probably cost Franco-American more money than I will earn in my entire life, yet it is clearly meant to be no more than glanced at. Ah yes, the product's name (Spaghetti-Os) reinforced by the image of a Spaghetti-O, with the vague impression that eating this stuff won't kill you, at least not immediately.
My in-depth perusal of the Spaghetti-Os can has left me with mixed feelings about my lunch. It makes me feel vaguely cannibalistic, and ironically the many reassurances that the product is indeed good for me serve to underscore, for me, the fact that it actually probably isn't very.
For more Spaghetti-O info and trippy Spaghetti-O-inspired imagery, visit www.spaghettios.com. But only if you are a Mom, since it seems that that is the socio-familial class to whom the site appears to address itself. Which opens up still more possibilities for pointless overanalysis.
I think it's almost spring. I keep looking out to see if the bulbs I planted last fall are popping up. Not yet.
Exams are next week. I've been studying a lot, obviously, and I seem to be unable to convert the stuff I study into blog format. Hence the brevity.
The blog entry written just for the sake of having written a blog entry--how can anything good come of this?
Today I went to the GVSU library to make some copies from a book which has managed to elude several weeks' worth of attempts to get hold of it. GVSU is on spring break, so the campus was very quiet. I like campuses during break, they're very peaceful. The GVSU library looks like a mini-Reg, a building which represents what I like to call the "hideous excrescence" school of architecture.
On the way back, I heard an interesting story on NPR about some Nazi saboteurs who landed in America in 1942. They were planning to blow up some aluminum factories, but the leader turned himself in. FDR created military tribunals to try the conspirators because he didn't think civilian courts would give them the death penalty, and that's the precedent for the Guantanamo Bay tribunals. The defense pursued the same line that G. Bay opponents are pursuing today, that the creation of such tribunals is unconstitutional. (Didn't work for them, they were executed). Very interesting.
So that's my day so far. Guess I'll get back to work...