Tuesday, October 30, 2007

On Stephen Crane

This month, my office book club read three short stories by Stephen Crane: "The Open Boat," "The Monster," and "The Blue Hotel." Now, I was not an "Americanist" in college or grad school, so I'm pretty sure the last time I read anything by Crane was high school. Although naturalist fiction will never be my favorite genre, I do think I appreciated his work much more this time around. His narratives force readers to grapple with complex moral issues; the questionable concept of free will in an indifferent, often hostile environment; and the senselessness of many life events.

Reading these three stories, I never felt sure where the author was taking me. And, after finishing and reflecting upon the tales, I found myself struggling to shape my myriad observations into a coherent interpretation. Surely there must be some elusive core buried beneath the layers of details and literary conventions. It is startling to realize that perhaps there is no such core, that naturalistic fiction would not have a hidden message or truth. This may even be part of Crane's genius: engaging readers in a futile search for meaning that parallels the actions unfolding in the narrative. I'm not really sure though... for some reason, I don't feel altogether confident as a reader when dealing with his work.

Crane's narratives were selected as a loose connection with Halloween ("creepy naturalist stories"), so I read them with that association in mind. And, in terms of moral ambiguities and a kind of dull psychological horror, these stories were creepy! They create a sense of unease that is slow to leave, and they really make you think... in many ways, it's like probing a dilemma that has no solution. Crane seems to like casting his characters as a kind of "everyman," and he is very deft at implicating the reader in the questionable decisions and actions taking place in the story. In the case of "The Monster" and "The Blue Hotel," we ponder the hard question of whether we would truly act differently if faced with the same situations entangling the characters. This pondering engenders doubt, which then implies a degree of guilt, as if we too participated in (or allowed to happen) the terrible events in the story. Certainly food for thought.

After I finished the stories, I read a little of Crane's biography online. Considering that he died of tuberculosis at the age of 28, he certainly produced a large body of work. (The anthology I checked out from the library was almost 800 pages!) Crane married Cora Stewart-Taylor, a well-born New Yorker who had been thrice married and was the proprietress of a brothel in Jacksonville, Florida. Also a writer, she worked alongside Crane as a war correspondent during the Greco-Turkish War. Pretty fascinating stuff. I'd be interested in reading the biography of the formidable Cora!

Monday, October 29, 2007

Hum-Dinger

Yesterday was a rather anticlimactic end to the baseball season. As a champion of underdogs, I was really hoping the Colorado Rockies would fare better. Alas, the 8-day layoff between the NLCS and the World Series seemed to have robbed them of their magical spark. Since my own teams had very little impact in this year's playoffs (the Angels were trounced in the first round, and the Dodgers did not even make the playoffs), I was rooting for the Rockies to continue their miraculous winning streak. Or at least give us a long, interesting battle in the World Series. Oh well. Running into a brick wall in the shape of the formidable Red Sox certainly doesn't take away from the Rockies' amazing accomplishment of winning 21 out of 22 games this fall, forcing and winning a one-game playoff with San Diego, and winning 7 straight in the NLDS and NLCS.

And now, to the main reason for this post. Because of the increased media coverage of the Rockies in the past month, I started to notice their unique mascot during a lot of broadcast games. Thinking that the purple triceratops was cute and funny, I did some online research and found that the Rockies chose a dinosaur for their mascot because fossils were uncovered when they dug the foundation to build Coors Field. Now, that's a pretty cool connection. I also found, to much amusement, that the mascot's name is Dinger (for non-baseball fans, that's slang for home run) and that there are fans who passionately call for the demise of the hapless dino as well as fans who stoutly champion their beloved Dinger. I must admit, I was a bit surprised by the vehemence of the Dinger-haters. Personally, I think a triceratops is a way better mascot than many of the other bizarre creatures gracing the MLB universe. Case in point: take a look at the Philly Phanatic. I mean, really, which would you prefer as your team's mascot?














I guess I simply like mascots that actually resemble a recognizable animal. Cuteness, of course, and comic quality are factors too. Here are a couple of other MLB mascots that I like: San Francisco's Lou Seal (please note that liking a team's mascot does not mean I like the team!) and Florida's Billy the Marlin.














One last thing: I kind of understand why the Seattle Mariners' mascot is a moose, given the Northwest connection. However, as an English major, I've always thought it'd be hilarious if the Mariners' mascot were an albatross. Yes, I realize that not many people would get the reference to Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner," but wouldn't you like to see this intimidating figure staring down the opponents?

Saturday, October 27, 2007

iGoogle Themes

Perhaps I am just easily amused, but I was quite tickled when I recently discovered that Google has added a theme function to the customizable iGoogle interface. I selected the "Tea House" theme since it was cute, and imagine my pleasant surprise when the pictures updated themselves periodically to match the approximate time of day in my area. These are the different images I've managed to capture so far...

Cute, huh? ;) The little fox is quite industrious and leads a very full life!

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Everything's Coming Up Daisies

I cannot say enough about this season's quirky, enchanting new show, Pushing Daisies. Not only is it a visual delight--full of vibrant colors and breathtaking imagery--but it also delights the soul with its whimsy, humor, romance, and tincture of darkness. There truly is nothing quite like it on television. The show is a modern fairy tale peopled with very human, albeit unusual characters inhabiting a world that is both familiar and otherwordly. There is a touching (pun somewhat intended) tenderness underlying the sometimes witty, sometimes sardonic, and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny moments.
This lavish storybook-come-to-life has captured my heart. It engages my senses, my emotions, and my intellect. The creators of the show cleverly include so many visual and verbal details that you notice something new every time you watch it. And the chemistry among the cast members, particularly between Lee Pace and Anna Friel, is sparkling. I have to admit, I am rather enamored of Lee Pace in the role of Ned the Pie Maker. He is absolutely adorable and such a sweetheart. ;P
Since the series finale of Frasier, I have not faithfully followed a show until now. I've managed to catch every episode of Pushing Daisies so far and have even re-watched some episodes online. It is such a wonderful breath of fresh air in this age of reality TV; I am utterly charmed and hope it stays on the air for many seasons to come.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

A Gentle, Quiet Power

I recently finished Susan Vreeland's novel Girl in Hyacinth Blue, and I must say that it is one of the best books I've read all year. Much like a Vermeer painting, the novel is rich and evocative, with layers of complexity below a gentle, quiet surface. The prose is clean, poetic, and (not surprisingly) almost painterly in some places. The structure of the book is unique and works wonderfully well: a series of short stories presented in reverse chronology. A "lost" Vermeer painting links these narratives together.

Now, Vermeer is one of my favorite artists. He is rightfully hailed as the master of light, but I also love how his paintings are so meticulous, atmospheric, and intimate, capturing quiet moments that suggest rich, complicated narratives of interior lives. Vreeland's deeply moving novel certainly does justice to Vermeer's genius. Each beautifully crafted vignette reflects how art can affect our hearts, minds, souls, and lives in profound ways. I will definitely read more of Vreeland's work in the future.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Overture

And so begins my first foray into the blogging world. Though I love to write (or so I've been proclaiming since high school), I've done precious little writing in recent memory... my bound journal lies fallow for months at a time, and I've even become delinquent in keeping my reading journal up to date. As for creative writing... well, let's not even go there. So, when I learned that a good friend started blogging this month, I was inspired to try it too in an attempt to write more regularly. We'll see how this experiment goes. At the very least, it should prove cathartic. ;P