Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Novel Project

#7
  • Although Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is compelling in and of itself, it also functions on a symbolic level or levels, with Frankenstein's monster standing in for the coming of industrialization to Europe — and the death and destruction that the monster wreaks symbolizing the ruination that Shelley feared industrialization would eventually cause. The novel also contains a number of "framing devices," which are stories that surround other stories, setting them up in one way or another. Robert Walton's letters to his sister frame the story that Victor Frankenstein tells to Walton, and Frankenstein's story surrounds the story that the monster tells, which in turn frames the story of the De Lacey family.
#1


Frankenstein by Mary Shelley begins with Captain Robert Walton hanging out in St. Petersburg, Russia, probably near the end of the 18th century. He's waiting around for a ride to the port of Archangel, where he's going to hire some hardy Russians to go sailing off to the North Pole. Unfortunately, the boat gets stuck in impassible ice hundreds of miles from land. Boring! With nothing else to do, he writes letters to his sister back in England. His main complaint? He wants a male friend to keep him company. (What about that ship full of sailors? No, he means a worthy companion.)

Soon, Walton's despair is interrupted by the sight of —a man! On the ice! Riding a dog-sled! The man boards the ship, and it seems as if Walton's wish for a friend has come true. Except this new guy, Victor? Kind of nuts. Here's his story, as told to Walton:



Victor started out like any normal kid in Geneva, with his parents adopting a girl named Elizabeth for him to marry when he was older. You know, totally normal. At college, he decides to study natural philosophy (like a rudimentary physics) and chemistry, along with chemistry's evil twin, alchemy. In about two years, he figures out how to bring a body made of human corpse pieces to life. (We couldn't even manage to finish high school in two years.) Afterwards, he's horrified by his own creation (no…really?) and is sick for months while his friend Henry Clerval nurses him back to health.

Back in Geneva, Victor's younger brother, William, is murdered. The Frankenstein family servant, Justine, is accused of killing him. Victor magically intuits that his monster is the real killer, but thinking that no one would believe the "my monster did it" excuse, Victor is afraid to even propose his theory. Even when poor Justine is executed.

Victor, in grief, goes on a trip to the Swiss Alps for some much needed R&R. All too conveniently, he runs into the monster, who confesses to the crime and tells Victor this story (if you're keeping track, we're now in a story-within-a-story-within-a-story):

When Frankenstein fled, he found himself alone and hideous. No one accepted him (being a corpse-parts conglomeration can do that to you), except for one old blind man. He hoped that the blind man's family of cottagers would give him compassion, but even they drove him away. When he ran across William, he killed the boy out of revenge. In short, he's ticked off that his maker created him to be alone and miserable, and so would Frankenstein please make him a female companion?

After much persuading, Victor agrees. He drops off Henry in Scotland while he goes to an island in the Orkneys to work. But, just before he finishes, he destroys the second monster: he's afraid that the two will bring destruction to humanity rather than love each other harmlessly. The monster sees him do this and swears revenge … again. When Victor lands on a shore among Irish people, they accuse him of murdering Henry, who has been found dead. He's acquitted, but not before another long illness.

Victor returns to Geneva and prepares to marry Elizabeth, but he's a little worried: the monster has sworn to be with him on his wedding night. Eek! Victor thinks the monster is threatening him, but the night he and Elizabeth are married, the monster kills the bride instead. This causes Victor's father to pass away from grief (as he just lost a daughter-in-law and a daughter), so it's kind of a twofer for the monster.

Alone and bent on revenge, Victor chases the monster over all imaginable terrain until he is ragged and near death. (In fact, we can't really tell the two of them apart anymore except that the monster is taller and uglier.) And now we're back up the present: he finds Walton's ship, tells his story, and dies.

Story over? Not quite. Walton discovers the monster crying over Victor's dead body. We're not sure if he's crying because he's sad or because, as he says, he has nothing to live for anymore—but either way, he heads off into the Arctic to die. Alone.

#3
In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, The creature, or "Frankenstein's Monster," is a lonely, sympathetic and largely misunderstood character. Abandoned by his creator -- the closest thing to a father figure that the creature has -- the creature, shocked by the horrified reaction of society to its physical appearance, turns against its creator. The creature's experience is that all humanity equates his deformed physical appearance with evilness. "As I fixed my eyes on the child, I saw . . . divine benignity to one expressive of disgust and affright."
Frankenstein is ambitious, preoccupied with his work, and obsessive. It is this drive to succeed that eventually pushes his experimentation too far. While it is often thought that the creature is the villain of the piece, in fact, upon reading Shelly's novel it becomes clear that Victor Frankenstein himself must take some degree of responsibility for the monster's crimes. Victor shows a selfish self-interest in his experimentation; he does not shoulder the monumental responsibility of his actions because he is driven only by ambition and not by a regard for others: "I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart."
Both Frankenstein and his monster see themselves as wronged. Both have the desire and the inclination to love, but their loving intentions are swiftly transformed by hate and isolation. The novel focuses upon the redemptive power of love. Both admire beauty (Elizabeth's), and are repulsed by the physical appearance of Frankenstein's monster. "How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavored to form?"
Both become isolated from main society: Victor is isolated by his obsession with work, and because the creature kills off those he loves. The creature is isolated because of his appearance. Both start out with good intentions: Victor's love of nature encourages him to study natural science but his ambition soon leads him astray. The creature's instinct is to love and be loved, but the reaction to his appearance is one of hatred and repulsion, so it reacts in kind. "This was then the reward of my benevolence! I had saved a human being from destruction, and as a recompense I now writhed under the miserable pain of a wound which shattered the flesh and bone . . . vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind."
While Victor Frankenstein grew up in a loving family environment, surrounded by the love of Elizabeth and the friendship of Henry Clerval, the creature is abandoned almost immediately. Dr. Frankenstein fails to show his creation the same love and support that he himself experienced in his own upbringing. "No human being could have passed a happier childhood than myself."
The story of Frankenstein plays with the themes of human nature, nurture and human needs. Essentially, Victor has a parental duty to nurture his creation, which he fails to do. The monster, on the other hand, is not bound by the usual bounds of humanity, since he has been born an unworldly being. The creature is made from fragments of human life, and as such his heart is similarly fragmented. "I looked upon them as superior beings who would be the arbiters of my future destiny."


#2
The Monster

In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, The monster is Victor Frankenstein’s creation, assembled from old body parts and strange chemicals, animated by a mysterious spark. He enters life eight feet tall and enormously strong but with the mind of a newborn. Abandoned by his creator and confused, he tries to integrate himself into society, only to be shunned universally. Looking in the mirror, he realizes his physical grotesqueness, an aspect of his persona that blinds society to his initially gentle, kind nature. Seeking revenge on his creator, he kills Victor’s younger brother. After Victor destroys his work on the female monster meant to ease the monster’s solitude, the monster murders Victor’s best friend and then his new wife.
While Victor feels unmitigated hatred for his creation, the monster shows that he is not a purely evil being. The monster’s eloquent narration of events (as provided by Victor) reveals his remarkable sensitivity and benevolence. He assists a group of poor peasants and saves a girl from drowning, but because of his outward appearance, he is rewarded only with beatings and disgust. Torn between vengefulness and compassion, the monster ends up lonely and tormented by remorse. Even the death of his creator-turned-would-be-destroyer offers only bittersweet relief: joy because Victor has caused him so much suffering, sadness because Victor is the only person with whom he has had any sort of relationship.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Essay feedback

The essay lacks textual support, as well as decent word choice. There is an attempt at trying to use parallel events but it didn’t follow through.  As well, I used the wrong pivotal moment completely which means I didn’t even answer the prompt in any way, shape, or form. The introduction was impeccably weak as well as a conclusion that was basically non-existent.   In the end the essay in its entirety deserves a three at most mainly because to get a five you have to at least answer the prompt and I didn’t even grasp that concept. If I was to redo the essay I would for one, pick the right moment, and second use textual support. Honestly I feel like I need help on everything!

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Reflection

1. Favorite play. Why?

  • My favorite play was The Taming of the Shrew mainly because I somewhat feel like I can relate to it a little better than Othello. Especially after watching 10 things I Hate About You.



2. What would you have changed and/or added to the Othello unit? What was your favorite part?

  • The blogs. Some of the questions were just hard for me to put in words that made sense out of my head. I really didn't have a favorite part to Othello, other than the trial, but other than that it was honestly my least favorite thing we've read all year.


3. What would you have changed and/or added to the Taming of the Shrew unit? What was your favorite part?

  • I wouldn't have changed anything about this unit. My favorite part is tied between watching 10 Things I Hate About You and making our own version of the play.

4. How well do you feel you understand both plays? Use a scale of 1-10 and explain.

  • When it comes to Othello I would give myself a 7 because that one was just harder for me to get because i really just couldn't get into the book. With The Taming of the Shrew I would say a 10 because the activities with did with it made it more understandable because we put ourselves in that spot when we acted it out. Plus I'm just a shrew in general so I related to the play.


5. Create a major assignment for one of the plays. Explain why you think this would help future AP Lit students.

  • I think if you were to have the kids do a video with Othello too, it would make it more understandable because they would have to act out the situation instead of just imagining


Similarities between O/Othello


  • similarities that both the movie and play focus on are themes of racial tension, jealousy, manipulation
  • Othello/Odin is seen as different by the rest of the community
  •  Iago/Hugo are jealous of Othello/Odin's success and want to essentially bring them and Cassio back to earth, and knows he can manipulate them using Desi and Odin's pride as the targets. 
  • Iago/Hugo knows that he can use his skill and pick on the weaknesses in each character in order to get what he wants
  • a prop of significance in both the play and the movie is the handkerchief
  • It was a gift, and when it ends up in the wrong hands, Othello/Odin becomes furious about it
  • Othello/Odin is manipulated into believing that Desdemona/Desi has been cheating on him
  • Othello/Odin promises Iago/Hugo that he will kill her for what she has done.
  • Desi/Desdemona holds true to her word when she says she hasn't cheated on him, but he still does not believe her and strangles her at the end of the movie.
  • main difference between the play and the movie is the setting. 
  • Othello is set in Venice and the island of Cyprus while there were wars between Venice and Turkey.  "O" is set at a modern day prep school
  • In the play, Othello and Desdemona marry while in the movie, they are only high school lovers bound by a rubber band ring on Desi's ring finger.
  • drug use becomes a factor in the movie that contributes to how the characters act
  • Hugo uses steroids and Odin uses cocaine

O Review

Changing the words of Shakespeare is pretty hard. It levels between the difficulty of trying to drive a car without gasoline and building a rocket. Now add to that the attempt of changing the setting of Othello to a Southern prep school. The first thing that can be said about ''O,'' is that the movie drastically updates characters and situations from Othello, updating them to the gossipy atmosphere of a contemporary high school. To an astonishing degree, ''O'' gets the tragic Shakespeare mood, that feeling that reeks of complete and utter betrayal.
Some of the movie, admittedly, is labored. Minus the treacherous eloquence of Shakespeare's words, the business of the stolen handkerchief now plays like the hoariest of hoary devices. Yet the central triangle retains its racial-sexual ambiguity. Mekhi Phifer as the charismatic and forthright yet secretly vulnerable basketball star Odin, Julia Stiles as his devoted girlfriend Desi, Josh Hartnett as the weak and bitter Hugo, who out of a tangle of envy and self-hatred tries to bust their relationship apart – each actor plays their role adequately and so close to the line, you honestly would believe it is their true self. As the drama comes to its gradual boil, they reveal their emotions with utter openness as well.
“O” turns out to be something far more rare than another novelty spin on Shakespeare, It's a teen movie that jettisons all irony, inviting us to sink, with a feeling that feels nearly lush, into the drive and clash of its characters. Odin, the only black student at Palmetto Grove Academy in Charleston, S.C., is a superjock, popular for his slam-dunks and also for the casual charm of his off-the-court camaraderie. He's devoted to Desi, and though it's hardly a color-blind romance, the deep-feeling bond that they share, at parties and in her dorm-room bed, makes their relationship look like the essence of a youthful love affair. Phifer and Stiles ground the movie in their playful sensual rapport; they make adoration look sexy. Odin and Desi see each other's race, but mostly they see right past it.
Hugo, too, is on the basketball squad, and the fact that he's not talented enough to be a star is just one of his problems. He's the son of the head coach and he feels passed over by his father, who was responsible for getting Odin a scholarship and who treats him like a saint. Hartnett, in a daring performance, plays Hugo as shy, moody, and all too easily wounded -- a maliciously overdelicate James Dean who schemes out of impotence, coveting Odin's success with a poison brew of admiration and envy. Hugo is one of Odin's inner circle of chums, and when he decides to plot against him, you wonder, for all of his cunning, how his convoluted plan could possibly succeed. He seems outclassed at every level.
That's where the racial politics of ''O'' grow at once powerful and, to me at least, a little dicey for comfort. When Hugo tells Odin that white girls like Desi are ''horny snakes,'' he's playing on the paranoia about otherness that everyone in America knows. Phifer shoots bolts of accusation out of his wary dark eyes. He reveals the spectacle of intelligence working against itself: As Odin begins to suspect his lover of infidelity, the reality of his past -- the fact that he didn't grow up with these privileged white kids -- starts to overheat and bend his judgment.
The motivation is laid out with meticulous care, and Nelson stages one extraordinary moment of primal anger: Odin, his roiling soul stoked by cocaine, smashing the basketball so hard at a dunking contest that it shatters the backboard, much to the ignorant delight of the crowd. Yet the movie, from this point on, has little choice but to escalate Odin's rage even further, and the effect, in its very overstatement, carries uncomfortable -- if unintentional -- racist overtones. The violent climax of O that resulted in all the distribution ruckus turns out to be the worst part of the movie because in the context of a modern American high school, it turns Odin into a junior O.J. Simpson, a young black man whose civilized facade is merely cover for an intrinsic and bottomless rage. Unlike Othello, he withdraws, in his very vengeance, from the audience, and the movie, for all of its feeling, recedes from tragedy.