One blog that I read was Anya's blog, "Change of Mind: Unorthodox Love." In the blog, she discussed different kinds of love, and how our society expects all different love stories to be about "romantic" love.
"I loved the comment you brought up about the differences between love and romance. I definitely think that our society equates "love" with "romance", I've never thought about there being much of a difference. Everyone around us expects every "love story" to be something dramatic, filled with kisses in the rain and perfect couples. We expect love stories to be just like "The Notebook", or like any novel written by Nicholas Sparks. So everybody would be disappointed by a "love story" that turned out to be almost the opposite. There is a strong difference between romantic love and a love between friends, as we clearly see in the movie Once. I think that the love in Once is just as beautiful and just as fulfilling as any dramatic romance."
Sydney's blog, "Dialectics: Reality and Imagination," talked about how the Matrix made her realize that reality and imagination could be one coexisting idea, instead of two separate entities.
"Isn't it so amazing how a movie can make us question the whole world around us? It was really interesting to read through your thought process on such a complicated, confusing idea. Your blog made me stop and think as well. Our minds create what we perceive as "the real world", or as "reality", but if we wanted to perceive reality as something different, then couldn't we turn our imagination into our own reality? I guess through imagination, and through these holes in "reality", we could change everything about our lives. We say that certain things are "good" and that certain things are "bad" because that's what "the real world" tells us. But if in our imagination, what is really "bad" could be "good", and vice versa, then everybody would be able to live fulfilling lives, just by convincing themselves and imagining that they are living good lives. What is reality, anyway? The Matrix has now thoroughly screwed up the way that I think about everything. For all we know, the tree outside of my window isn't real. Shoot."
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Dialectics: Ignorance and Truth
In the Matrix, we are told that the world that we live in isn't real. The "real" world has been reduced to rubble. We are all unknowingly part of a Matrix; our world is basically a computer program, and we have no real control over our lives or our world. Thankfully, this is just a movie (or is it?). But the characters in the movie are forced to make the choice between learning the truth and remaining ignorant.
Of course, one could say that this is a simple choice. Who wouldn't want to know the truth? Why would anybody want to live in the dark? Knowing the truth must be the better choice. If you know the truth then, even if you're unhappy, at least you're not living a lie. Neo chooses to take the red pill, and it changes his entire life. If he had chosen to take the blue pill, however, would his life have been any worse? He could have woken up in his own bed, and not even remembered his encounter with Morpheus. He never would have known that he was being ignorant. Personally, I think it can be argued that he could have lived a happier life if he had taken the blue pill. Cypher chose to take the red pill like Neo did, so at some point, he also thought that it was better to know the truth. But in the movie, after years of living in the "real" world, we realize that Cypher cannot tolerate the truth. He is absolutely miserable, and attempts to get inserted back into the Matrix, back into ignorance. According to him, "ignorance is bliss." Is it worth knowing the truth if you end up living an unhappy life? I personally don't think so. I'd rather be happy and ignorant.
The topics of ignorance and truth have been compared and contemplated by many incredible minds. The one thing that I immediately thought of while I was watching this movie was Plato's Allegory of the Cave. For all of the people in the cave, the truth, reality, all that exists are the shadows on the walls. We could call these people ignorant, but they don't know any better. They are mistaken as to what reality is. These prisoners are much like all of the humans who were living in the Matrix. But is life really better outside of the cave? When a prisoner is released outside into the real world, his eyes burn from the sun. This world is much too different, too complex, too unreal to him. He has trouble believing any of it. He wants to go back into the cave.
Is there any happy medium between ignorance and knowing the truth? I really don't think there can be. In our world, once you know the truth, you can never completely forget it. At some point in life, everybody must choose either to be exposed to reality, as awful as it may be, or to live in their cave. Neither of these options are completely fulfilling, and I doubt that one can ever be completely sure that their decision was the right one.
Of course, one could say that this is a simple choice. Who wouldn't want to know the truth? Why would anybody want to live in the dark? Knowing the truth must be the better choice. If you know the truth then, even if you're unhappy, at least you're not living a lie. Neo chooses to take the red pill, and it changes his entire life. If he had chosen to take the blue pill, however, would his life have been any worse? He could have woken up in his own bed, and not even remembered his encounter with Morpheus. He never would have known that he was being ignorant. Personally, I think it can be argued that he could have lived a happier life if he had taken the blue pill. Cypher chose to take the red pill like Neo did, so at some point, he also thought that it was better to know the truth. But in the movie, after years of living in the "real" world, we realize that Cypher cannot tolerate the truth. He is absolutely miserable, and attempts to get inserted back into the Matrix, back into ignorance. According to him, "ignorance is bliss." Is it worth knowing the truth if you end up living an unhappy life? I personally don't think so. I'd rather be happy and ignorant.
The topics of ignorance and truth have been compared and contemplated by many incredible minds. The one thing that I immediately thought of while I was watching this movie was Plato's Allegory of the Cave. For all of the people in the cave, the truth, reality, all that exists are the shadows on the walls. We could call these people ignorant, but they don't know any better. They are mistaken as to what reality is. These prisoners are much like all of the humans who were living in the Matrix. But is life really better outside of the cave? When a prisoner is released outside into the real world, his eyes burn from the sun. This world is much too different, too complex, too unreal to him. He has trouble believing any of it. He wants to go back into the cave.
Is there any happy medium between ignorance and knowing the truth? I really don't think there can be. In our world, once you know the truth, you can never completely forget it. At some point in life, everybody must choose either to be exposed to reality, as awful as it may be, or to live in their cave. Neither of these options are completely fulfilling, and I doubt that one can ever be completely sure that their decision was the right one.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Metacognition: Jane Eyre Mashup
Let me start off by saying this: the Mashup was different than any assignment I've done in the past. And for that reason, my thought process and the way my mind worked were a new experience as well. When the project was first assigned, I was unsure as to whether I would be able to create a product like the example I had seen. I had no idea how so many different elements could flow and come together to form one developing idea.
I worked with Shea in a duo. We started off by collecting all of our elements. We chose individualism as our topic, so at first, we only searched for sources with individualism in mind. We weren't quite sure which direction we wanted to go in regarding individualism, but we assumed that our elements would fall into place eventually. After finding all of our elements, we began attempting to piece them together, trying to form a new, deeper thought in the process. The first few elements we used fit together surprisingly well; needless to say, we both cheered and danced around when we thought that the project would be easier to complete than we had been expecting. After placing four or five of the elements, however, we got stuck. We started to realize that we needed to clearly define our claim, and once we did that, we discovered that some of the sources that we had found didn't fit well anymore. This was definitely frustrating, since we had to take somewhat of a step backward. But after we added a clear focus, it became much easier to put the pieces together, since we weren't just aimlessly putting random elements into place.
We had to put 37 elements together. That's a lot of elements. After about 20 of those elements, we got stuck again. We worried that we were starting to stray from our focus, and started to question some of earlier work. Every time we tried to add on another piece, it wouldn't feel right, so we would erase it and try again. We went through this process several times until we finally figured out where we wanted to go next. Suddenly the rest of our ideas started to mend together, which felt extremely rewarding. After multiple days of work, countless frustrations, and plenty of spontaneous outbursts of joy, we had finished putting our project together. Both Shea and I let out a huge sigh of relief. We made plenty of edits after that, mostly on our commentary. The commentary was actually one of the more difficult parts of the mashup, because it often felt like it was disrupting the flow of the other elements. We worked hard to prevent these disruptions from happening, and after we finished those edits, we were finally done.
This mashup honestly felt like a final. There were so many different components that went into it, and at some points, it felt impossible to put them all together. Although there were plenty of mind blocks and moments where my brain just wanted to shut down altogether, in the end, it was pretty cool to read the whole mashup, especially at the parts where one part flowed perfectly into the next. It was fascinating to see how my mind managed to connect so many different elements.
I worked with Shea in a duo. We started off by collecting all of our elements. We chose individualism as our topic, so at first, we only searched for sources with individualism in mind. We weren't quite sure which direction we wanted to go in regarding individualism, but we assumed that our elements would fall into place eventually. After finding all of our elements, we began attempting to piece them together, trying to form a new, deeper thought in the process. The first few elements we used fit together surprisingly well; needless to say, we both cheered and danced around when we thought that the project would be easier to complete than we had been expecting. After placing four or five of the elements, however, we got stuck. We started to realize that we needed to clearly define our claim, and once we did that, we discovered that some of the sources that we had found didn't fit well anymore. This was definitely frustrating, since we had to take somewhat of a step backward. But after we added a clear focus, it became much easier to put the pieces together, since we weren't just aimlessly putting random elements into place.
We had to put 37 elements together. That's a lot of elements. After about 20 of those elements, we got stuck again. We worried that we were starting to stray from our focus, and started to question some of earlier work. Every time we tried to add on another piece, it wouldn't feel right, so we would erase it and try again. We went through this process several times until we finally figured out where we wanted to go next. Suddenly the rest of our ideas started to mend together, which felt extremely rewarding. After multiple days of work, countless frustrations, and plenty of spontaneous outbursts of joy, we had finished putting our project together. Both Shea and I let out a huge sigh of relief. We made plenty of edits after that, mostly on our commentary. The commentary was actually one of the more difficult parts of the mashup, because it often felt like it was disrupting the flow of the other elements. We worked hard to prevent these disruptions from happening, and after we finished those edits, we were finally done.
This mashup honestly felt like a final. There were so many different components that went into it, and at some points, it felt impossible to put them all together. Although there were plenty of mind blocks and moments where my brain just wanted to shut down altogether, in the end, it was pretty cool to read the whole mashup, especially at the parts where one part flowed perfectly into the next. It was fascinating to see how my mind managed to connect so many different elements.
Friday, April 6, 2012
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Let me start off by saying that I thought the Chicago Shakespeare Theater did an amazing job with A Midsummer Night's Dream. I have seen other productions done at the same theatre (most recently, Macbeth and A Comedy of Errors), and this was the first production that I was able to fully understand. When we saw Macbeth as a class last year, I spent half of the show staring intently at the actors to try to figure out what was going on, and the other half gazing aimlessly at the scenery and at my classmates. I walked out of that theatre knowing no more of Macbeth's plotline than I had known walking in.
When we went to see A Midsummer Night's Dream, I assumed that the experience would unfold in the same way, and that I would end up feeling just as flustered as I had the year before. I had no idea what the plot was about. I heard someone on the bus mention something about fairies, but that was about all I knew. But once the production started, instead of worrying about the language or the confusing plot, I found myself enjoying the story and laughing at 400-year-old jokes. One thing I enjoyed about this show was that it was so different from most of the Shakespearean plays I had read and viewed in the past. Most of the stories that I had had experiences with before ended tragically, with half of the characters either dead or gone completely mad. Several of his plays are pretty heavy, and aren't extremely enjoyable. This story, however, was light and humorous. I laughed at all of the chaos caused by that scheming little fairy, Puck. (Also, I just have to mention that I spent a good amount of time during the first act trying to figure out if Puck was a lady fairy or a man fairy. I honestly wasn't sure until I looked in the playbill and found out that the actor's name was "Elizabeth." It really didn't take away from the story, and she was a great actress, but it did distract me...just a little bit.)
I loved how the last few lines between that man and that woman subtly tied together the whole show. I'm not sure if it's how the story is supposed to end, but the fact that they were the fairies was pretty brilliant, in my opinion. The story could've ended without that being mentioned and it all still would have made perfect sense, but I thought it added another layer into the story, changing the way you thought about the whole story using just a couple of lines.
Altogether, I truly enjoyed the Chicago Shakespeare Theater's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. The set was subtle but certainly enough for the show, the actors were all great, the costumes were beautiful (I loved Titania's hair), and the story provided a perfect mix of laughs and not-too-sappy romance. I loved seeing one of Shakespeare's plays that contrasted so greatly with what I had seen in the past.
When we went to see A Midsummer Night's Dream, I assumed that the experience would unfold in the same way, and that I would end up feeling just as flustered as I had the year before. I had no idea what the plot was about. I heard someone on the bus mention something about fairies, but that was about all I knew. But once the production started, instead of worrying about the language or the confusing plot, I found myself enjoying the story and laughing at 400-year-old jokes. One thing I enjoyed about this show was that it was so different from most of the Shakespearean plays I had read and viewed in the past. Most of the stories that I had had experiences with before ended tragically, with half of the characters either dead or gone completely mad. Several of his plays are pretty heavy, and aren't extremely enjoyable. This story, however, was light and humorous. I laughed at all of the chaos caused by that scheming little fairy, Puck. (Also, I just have to mention that I spent a good amount of time during the first act trying to figure out if Puck was a lady fairy or a man fairy. I honestly wasn't sure until I looked in the playbill and found out that the actor's name was "Elizabeth." It really didn't take away from the story, and she was a great actress, but it did distract me...just a little bit.)
I loved how the last few lines between that man and that woman subtly tied together the whole show. I'm not sure if it's how the story is supposed to end, but the fact that they were the fairies was pretty brilliant, in my opinion. The story could've ended without that being mentioned and it all still would have made perfect sense, but I thought it added another layer into the story, changing the way you thought about the whole story using just a couple of lines.
Altogether, I truly enjoyed the Chicago Shakespeare Theater's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. The set was subtle but certainly enough for the show, the actors were all great, the costumes were beautiful (I loved Titania's hair), and the story provided a perfect mix of laughs and not-too-sappy romance. I loved seeing one of Shakespeare's plays that contrasted so greatly with what I had seen in the past.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Metacognition: Short Stories
We've been working on short stories for a couple of months now. While we've been discussing different stories and their structure for a while, I could never really apply those concepts into my own writing until recently. My short story writing process really happened in two parts, since I ended up rewriting the story last weekend. The first story consisted of a small spark of an idea that I had when we started writing, and I wrote a few drafts based off of that. But eventually, I got stuck. I realized that my story wasn't following the correct short story structure and I didn't really push my character to actively do anything. The story basically fell flat, and I needed to try something new. And while it's pretty frustrating to realize that the story you've been working on isn't really going anywhere, I decided to take it as an opportunity to start over. I took one concept that appeared in the beginning of my first short story, and used it to create a new one.
Basically, I wrote a whole new short story in one weekend. As stressful and nerve-racking as that was, it really forced my mind to go into deadline mode and start spitting out ideas. Instead of starting to write my story in actual-short-story-form, I took a different approach and just outlined what would be the beginning, the middle and the end. This prevented me from going off on tangents and being unspecific, which is what ended up happening in my first short story. What began as an empty concept (about an unsuccessful college grad) started growing and stemming, and eventually, I had a full short story outline in front of me. It was pretty surprising to see that my mind could work and come up with story ideas, even when I was pretty sure that pure exhaustion would hinder any creativity. Once the ideas started flowing, it was actually fun to decide what I was going to do to my characters.
As the weekend went on, I finished the first draft of my second short story. Already, I could tell that this story was much better than what I had written in the first on. I pushed the characters more, I forced my main character to make decisions and mistakes, and most importantly, I had a clear beginning, middle, and end. But the problem with this draft was, not shockingly, the end. In the first draft, I had my character mention suicide, and ended the story ambiguously, never specifying whether he would follow through with his plan or not. When I finished writing the ending, I felt as though I was finally finished. I let myself feel triumphant for a few minutes. But I learned that using ambiguous suicide as an ending was taking the easy way out–I could, and needed to, push the character into a different situation. There needed to be at least some feeling of resolution, and there needed to be more relief. So I changed the ending. It relieved some parts of the plot, but certainly also let the reader make their own questions and assumptions about other parts.
By the time I finished the second version of the second short story, I honestly felt very happy with it. It felt a hundred times more developed than my first story. I was proud of the ending. Altogether, it was just better than the story I had started off writing. It probably would have been more convenient for me to realize that my story was stuck earlier in the writing process, but in all honesty, I don't know how well my story would have turned out. It's incredibly interesting to see how the mind works under pressure so close to a deadline.
Basically, I wrote a whole new short story in one weekend. As stressful and nerve-racking as that was, it really forced my mind to go into deadline mode and start spitting out ideas. Instead of starting to write my story in actual-short-story-form, I took a different approach and just outlined what would be the beginning, the middle and the end. This prevented me from going off on tangents and being unspecific, which is what ended up happening in my first short story. What began as an empty concept (about an unsuccessful college grad) started growing and stemming, and eventually, I had a full short story outline in front of me. It was pretty surprising to see that my mind could work and come up with story ideas, even when I was pretty sure that pure exhaustion would hinder any creativity. Once the ideas started flowing, it was actually fun to decide what I was going to do to my characters.
As the weekend went on, I finished the first draft of my second short story. Already, I could tell that this story was much better than what I had written in the first on. I pushed the characters more, I forced my main character to make decisions and mistakes, and most importantly, I had a clear beginning, middle, and end. But the problem with this draft was, not shockingly, the end. In the first draft, I had my character mention suicide, and ended the story ambiguously, never specifying whether he would follow through with his plan or not. When I finished writing the ending, I felt as though I was finally finished. I let myself feel triumphant for a few minutes. But I learned that using ambiguous suicide as an ending was taking the easy way out–I could, and needed to, push the character into a different situation. There needed to be at least some feeling of resolution, and there needed to be more relief. So I changed the ending. It relieved some parts of the plot, but certainly also let the reader make their own questions and assumptions about other parts.
By the time I finished the second version of the second short story, I honestly felt very happy with it. It felt a hundred times more developed than my first story. I was proud of the ending. Altogether, it was just better than the story I had started off writing. It probably would have been more convenient for me to realize that my story was stuck earlier in the writing process, but in all honesty, I don't know how well my story would have turned out. It's incredibly interesting to see how the mind works under pressure so close to a deadline.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Change of Mind: Real Love
As a teenage girl, I love to dream about perfect love stories. I love to watch movies like The Notebook and Dear John. I used to think that all love stories had to unfold like these stories did. There had to be intense physical romance, elaborate expressions of love, and the stories always had to end perfectly. I assumed that if none of these things existed in the relationship, then the love wasn't real. It just couldn't be passionate enough. But after watching Once, I've realized that love doesn't have to be over the top or be physical or be perfect. There don't have to be any dramatic circumstances or breakups or scenes shot in the pouring rain; a guy and a girl connecting through music can be just as intimate, and it's certainly more realistic.
In Once, the guy and the girl meet while the guy is playing guitar, and their second meeting is brought on by a broken vacuum cleaner. And as sexy as a girl with a broken vacuum cleaner can be, these aren't circumstances that Nicholas Sparks would write about. The guy and the girl were two completely normal people, both poor, both interested in music, nothing particularly exciting about either of them. But I've realized that this doesn't make the story lame or any less romantic. In fact, in my opinion, it makes it even more romantic, because it's realistic. Even the filming of the movie itself shows the realism of the story. Most of the film looks like it is shot by hand. No fancy tripods or helicopters...it just looks like a person holding a camera, and filming the guy and the girl's story as it unfolds. Also, the fact that the guy and the girl don't even have names further emphasizes the realism. This isn't necessarily "Thomas and Susie's story." It isn't a story that could only happen to them. It's a story about a "Guy" and a "Girl." That guy and that girl could be any one of us, and their story could be any of ours.
Once also helped me realize that there are different kinds of love. There is romantic love, and then there is love between friends. The love in Once was based off of a friendship. They make each other happy, and that's what any kind of love should be able to do. Their relationship was short, and they didn't even end up together, yet their love seems more intimate and real to me than any other film that I've seen. Once has helped me realize that most romantic movies have set the bar unreasonably high for love and relationships. There doesn't have to be a climactic kiss or a perfect ending. A love between friends that ends after a week or two can be just as powerful and just as intimate.
In Once, the guy and the girl meet while the guy is playing guitar, and their second meeting is brought on by a broken vacuum cleaner. And as sexy as a girl with a broken vacuum cleaner can be, these aren't circumstances that Nicholas Sparks would write about. The guy and the girl were two completely normal people, both poor, both interested in music, nothing particularly exciting about either of them. But I've realized that this doesn't make the story lame or any less romantic. In fact, in my opinion, it makes it even more romantic, because it's realistic. Even the filming of the movie itself shows the realism of the story. Most of the film looks like it is shot by hand. No fancy tripods or helicopters...it just looks like a person holding a camera, and filming the guy and the girl's story as it unfolds. Also, the fact that the guy and the girl don't even have names further emphasizes the realism. This isn't necessarily "Thomas and Susie's story." It isn't a story that could only happen to them. It's a story about a "Guy" and a "Girl." That guy and that girl could be any one of us, and their story could be any of ours.
Once also helped me realize that there are different kinds of love. There is romantic love, and then there is love between friends. The love in Once was based off of a friendship. They make each other happy, and that's what any kind of love should be able to do. Their relationship was short, and they didn't even end up together, yet their love seems more intimate and real to me than any other film that I've seen. Once has helped me realize that most romantic movies have set the bar unreasonably high for love and relationships. There doesn't have to be a climactic kiss or a perfect ending. A love between friends that ends after a week or two can be just as powerful and just as intimate.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Inconvenient Truth: There's a Little Bit of Evil Inside of Each of Us
I'd like to think that we're all born good. That we all start out our lives with good hopes, good intentions, and with complete innocence. And as for the people that aren't so good, well, society and the world around them must have made them that way. I'd like to know that there wasn't a driving evil force inside of everyone that could make them manipulative or cruel. But unfortunately, as we realize throughout Heart of Darkness, it seems that each of us is born with a soul that can quickly turn evil. When pushed to their limits, a good person can do some horrible things.
Take Kurtz, for example. He began his adventure in the Congo with good morals and good, altruistic intentions. Unlike most people who go to work in the Congo, Kurtz surely had no intention of killing and abusing the natives. But as we see when Marlow reads Kurtz' report, his ideas changed after some time in the Congo. At the end of a vibrant, beautiful and entrancing report, Kurtz scrawls the words "Exterminate all the brutes!" (50). Certainly, the original Kurtz who started his journey in Africa never would have written such words. But as his experiences progressed, his mind began to change. He was in a dark world completely foreign to his own, so he as a person was bound to learn new things about himself and evolve mentally, whether for better or for worse. He was being pushed far beyond his limits, so far that his mind and his soul couldn't take it, and the evil was exposed. Marlow talks about the wilderness and its impact on Kurtz throughout his journey, "This alone had beguiled his unlawful soul beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations...the soul had looked within itself and...it had gone mad." (65-66). So if a soul goes mad and turns to horrible ways when it's pushed beyond its limits, then it must be true that way deep down inside, all of our souls are evil. Maybe none of us have seen this side of ourselves because we haven't been pushed as far as Kurtz; perhaps living in our safe, comfortable, sheltered society has allowed our souls to build a sort of wall around the darkness. But who's to say that, when placed in a similar situation, we wouldn't change in the same ways?
I hate to say it, but after seeing Kurtz and Marlow's experiences, I have been led to the inconvenient truth that the soul may be inherently evil. But if this is the case, then what defines the breaking point? When does a soul suddenly shatter and go mad? Is it when a person has had to undergo so much pain that it simply cannot bear any more? Or is it when a person has inadvertently caused so much harm to others that the soul can't stand to look at itself any longer, and it just cracks? I like to think that I am a pretty good, altruistic person. I like helping other people, I like making others happy, and I feel awful when I upset anyone. So the fact that there's a part of my soul way deep down that is secretly evil is exceedingly hard for me to grasp. Am I really evil? Are you really evil? After reading Heart of Darkness, it seems so. Who knows if we will ever crack and see the dark side of ourselves, as I assume that most people never do. But it now seems inevitable that somewhere in each of our souls, we are all a little bit evil. Each of us has our own heart of darkness.
Take Kurtz, for example. He began his adventure in the Congo with good morals and good, altruistic intentions. Unlike most people who go to work in the Congo, Kurtz surely had no intention of killing and abusing the natives. But as we see when Marlow reads Kurtz' report, his ideas changed after some time in the Congo. At the end of a vibrant, beautiful and entrancing report, Kurtz scrawls the words "Exterminate all the brutes!" (50). Certainly, the original Kurtz who started his journey in Africa never would have written such words. But as his experiences progressed, his mind began to change. He was in a dark world completely foreign to his own, so he as a person was bound to learn new things about himself and evolve mentally, whether for better or for worse. He was being pushed far beyond his limits, so far that his mind and his soul couldn't take it, and the evil was exposed. Marlow talks about the wilderness and its impact on Kurtz throughout his journey, "This alone had beguiled his unlawful soul beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations...the soul had looked within itself and...it had gone mad." (65-66). So if a soul goes mad and turns to horrible ways when it's pushed beyond its limits, then it must be true that way deep down inside, all of our souls are evil. Maybe none of us have seen this side of ourselves because we haven't been pushed as far as Kurtz; perhaps living in our safe, comfortable, sheltered society has allowed our souls to build a sort of wall around the darkness. But who's to say that, when placed in a similar situation, we wouldn't change in the same ways?
I hate to say it, but after seeing Kurtz and Marlow's experiences, I have been led to the inconvenient truth that the soul may be inherently evil. But if this is the case, then what defines the breaking point? When does a soul suddenly shatter and go mad? Is it when a person has had to undergo so much pain that it simply cannot bear any more? Or is it when a person has inadvertently caused so much harm to others that the soul can't stand to look at itself any longer, and it just cracks? I like to think that I am a pretty good, altruistic person. I like helping other people, I like making others happy, and I feel awful when I upset anyone. So the fact that there's a part of my soul way deep down that is secretly evil is exceedingly hard for me to grasp. Am I really evil? Are you really evil? After reading Heart of Darkness, it seems so. Who knows if we will ever crack and see the dark side of ourselves, as I assume that most people never do. But it now seems inevitable that somewhere in each of our souls, we are all a little bit evil. Each of us has our own heart of darkness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)