Instinct, Emotion and Intuition

Emotions are spawned by instincts. For example, fear is an emotion created by the fight or flight instincts, as is anger. Most emotions, you could say, come from the survival instincts of humanity. To go with this, there must be other instincts that drive us, but such definition of instincts is a topic for another day. Emotions are spawned with as little explanation as intuition- they are present when our instincts set them into motion. They are generally motivations with which to save ourselves. Intuition is generated in the same way that emotions are generated, it is brought about by our instincts relating to how we survive, as opposed to why, but nonetheless it is generated by instinct. Because intuition and emotion are created in the same way, and provide the same function, they might be assimilated into one category. Emotions and intuition are generated by instinct so that we might survive. Because of this similarity, it might be said that intuition is in fact emotion, only with a slightly different form of action. Hence, the idea that there is only one form of thought based on instinct is solidified, as logic is combined with emotion at the joint of intuition.

Classical vs. Romantic Thought

Classical thought is defined as logical thought while romantic thought is defined as esthetic thought. According to Robert M. Pirsig, these two modes of thought were irreconcilable until he thought up Quality- which he says combines classical and romantic thought as the moment of perception before cognizance. I agree with Pirsig to some extent- I think that romantic and chemical thought can be combined. Unlike Pirsig, I would say that they are not combined by Quality and in fact need no combination. Romantic and classical thought are one in the same. They are both created by the thinker, and so come from the same source. Romantic thought comes from feeling and emotion, while classical thought comes from intuition. In some way, both of these feelings are incurred by the feeling without conscience effort. You could almost say that these things come to the thinker instinctively.

The Glass Menagerie

Laura’s glass menagerie represents the fragile nature of her family situation and changes in Laura’s personality. This is exemplified when Amanda and Tom argue about the time Tom spends out at night, and Tom throws his coat. His coat hits the shelf where Laura keeps her glass menagerie, and several of the figurines fall to the floor and shatter. The fragility of the glass menagerie demonstrates the fragility of the family situation in the household. The breaking of the menagerie suggests that conflict between family members generated by one family member imposing her will on another shatters the weak peace in the household. This is clear because the conflict between Tom and Amanda is based on Amanda’s desire to control Tom’s behavior out of the house. The glass menagerie also represents Laura’s personality. This is verified when Jim is over the house, and accidentally knocks over the unicorn, breaking off its horn. The horn that the unicorn has makes it unique, like Laura and her disability. When Jim dances with Laura though, she loses her disability and becomes normal, just as in dancing Jim breaks off the unicorn’s horn. This whole event suggests that differences are more easily overcome when approached with kindness and gentleness than when approached with rigid discipline and the iron fist of force.

Another symbol in The Glass Menagerie is the candle that Laura blows out after Jim and Tom leave the apartment for the last time. Jim admits to Laura that he is in fact engaged to someone else, and so cannot be her gentleman caller. He leaves, and when Amanda becomes frustrated with the failure of the evening and takes it out on Tom he storms out, never to return. It is here that Williams suggests that the absence of a normalizing force and the departure of a close family member push Laura over the edge, so that she loses all hope of regaining normality. This might relate to Williams’ life with his sister in that after a time she is admitted to an asylum, and might also be equated to his sister’s surgery. After her surgery, her uniqueness and personality were extinguished, just as Tom’s and Jim’s departure put out Laura’s candle and extinguish her personality.

The Shadow of the Wind

Zafón, Carlos Ruìz. The Shadow of the Wind. Penguin Group: New York, 2001

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Magical Realism

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruìz Zafón is the tale of The Shadow of the Wind by Julìan Carax. This magnificent myriad of colliding lives is told from the perspective of a young Daniel Sempere, the son of a rare book salesman. Daniel, curious in his adolescence, realizes Carax appears to be a ghost author-no one seems to know who he is, and his books are apparently being systematically destroyed. He follows his inquisitive nature on a hunt for the truth; along the way he discovers a labyrinth of human connections surrounding the author, falls in love, and stands up to the brutality of an unjust regime.

Daniel’s adventure is set in 1945, against a backdrop of post-Spanish Civil War political fallout. When Daniel is eleven his father reveals to him Barcelona’s biggest kept literary secret: the Cemetery of Forgotten Books. Here Daniel finds The Shadow of the Wind by Julìan Carax, and its story captures his imagination so completely that he searches for more books by Carax. He quickly finds that they are being destroyed- and sets out with pertinacious curiousity to understand why. His travels pair him with a former government agent- that is from before Franco took power. With Fermìn’s help, Daniel follows the trail of Carax’s literary oblivion and uncovers the very real human drama of Carax’s life.

Although The Shadow of the Wind is technically magical realism, Zafón’s skill as a writer allows the tale to swing through several genres. The horror of the tale chills the spine at a description of an abandoned house. When Carax’s childhood lover’s father went to visit the mansion for the first time “The dark shadow of Marisela’s blood still covered the walls,” (Zafón, 235) after the owner had just barely recovered from his own attempted murder. Veering away from horror, the tale becomes one of romance as Daniel remembers “…that bewitchment of pale, tremulous skin, that first brush of the lips, or about the mirage that seemed to shimmer in every pore of the skin,” (Zafón, 241) when he first falls in love with Bea, his love interest in the second half of the novel. Then, broken family relations inspire tragedy in the tale when an old man reflects that the letter he is giving to Daniel is “‘The story of a woman I never knew, even though she bore my name and my blood,’”

(Zafón, 357) eliciting emotional response over the estranged father. Zafón’s use of more than adequate imagery in settings of horror, romance, and tragedy enable the story to peruse a vast selection of genres.

The Shadow of the Wind wins itself its genre of Magical realism however, mostly in Daniel’s ‘last’ act. In a fit of pusillanimous revenge, Carax’s antithesis, Inspector Fumero, attempts to shoot him. Daniel jumps into the path of the bullet and it “…went through [his] ribs.” (Zafón, 464) killing him. In spite of this, Daniel awakens a few days later and recovers well enough to marry Bea and have a child. In fact, he lives on to write a memoir of his investigation into the mysterious Carax. This magic is portrayed seamlessly, no reference is made to how or why this unreality is possible. This simplicity allows the fantastical to fit exactly into the surrounding realism.

I quite enjoyed the novel, finding its quiet wisdom concerning adolescence, family, love, and life well placed amidst the deftly crafted legend of the enigmatic author. The suspense kept me reading, and the happiness and humor kept me from becoming frustrated. The variety of technique and genre lifted The Shadow of the Wind above its contemporaries, displaying Zafón for the masterful writer he is. Being a bibliophile myself, this tale of a copious love of literature strikes a particular chord with me, allowing me to connect personally. If you like reading, and even if you do not, this book has more than a little bit for any reader.

Neuromancer

Gibson, William. Neuromancer. The Berkley Publishing Group: The United States, 1984 Heart Borders Books $7.99 Cyberpunk

In reading science fiction one generally finds stories built around the future- the technology and the culture of a world yet to be. It is a strange and refreshing experience to read science fiction and find that the story is a human story. Neuromancer is a story driven by new technology and new conflict, but a story about the human psyche in all its complexity interacting with itself, humanity, and the environment around it. Neuromancer is a debut novel that stands out among the rest; it represents the debut of both an author and genre, and changes the culture of science fiction forever.

The protagonist of the story, Case, is a young man down on his luck. He sells rare and expensive drugs in the Chiba district of Tokyo, living on the edge of disaster each day. He nurses an uncontrollable addiction to speed and cigarettes. His self-destruction began two years before the reader meets him, when he betrayed his employers in the game of information retrieval. He was once one of the best “jockeys” in all of the Sprawl- what the massive mega metropolis that transverses the United States is called.. “A thief, he’d worked for other, wealthier thieves, employers who provided the exotic software required to penetrate the bright walls of corporate systems, opening windows into rich fields of data.”(Gibson, 4) After making the fatal mistake of stealing from his employers, they destroy the nerve endings necessary to “jack in” to the matrix of cyberspace. He embarks on a journey of self-destruction, dealing with petty Japanese thugs in a high stakes game of profit or death. Just when his luck is finally running out for good, he is saved by an offer of from a wealthy man named Armitage. He promises to fix Case’s nerves- in exchange for his unquestioning cooperation on one mysterious job.

As the story progresses the plotline quickly tangles, doubling back and jumping forward, opening old wounds in Case’s mind and exploring new characters and environs. It becomes clear that Armitage is just a pawn for a much larger, more intimidating entity. The story progresses from the slums of Japan to the backstreets of the Sprawl to the edges of a space colony orbiting earth. The plot flows flawlessly from one location to the next- Gibson wastes no time encumbering the reader with detailed descriptions of culture or technology. Instead, bits and pieces are shown to the reader based on the actions of Case and his companions in order to display the cosmos of the future. At one point Case and Molly, the other specialist hired by Armitage, are tasked with stealing a particular recording of a famous “console cowboy” so that Case will have a guiding hand in his work. They enlist the help of a particularly violent nihilist youth counterculture, who wear camouflage suits that react to their surroundings constantly. Instead of dwelling on the recording and how it works, or exploring the causes of the counterculture, or inundating the reader with pointless accounts of how the suits work, he simply tells Case’s story. Gibson provides just the right amount of detail, exposing the reader to new elements and fleshing their humanity out brilliantly, but leaving much to the reader’s imagination.

This sparseness is incredibly refreshing, unlike the pointlessly long lists and descriptions of technology that is characteristic of other science fiction greats, like Jules Verne. This difference and understanding of human nature, mostly in its desperation, can be traced back to Gibson’s childhood. When Gibson was young his father died while away on a business trip. He himself admits that this trauma perhaps helped him grow as an artist, as it has trauma has a peculiar way of doing. From there he goes on to drop out of high school and join the counter-culture, eventually going to Canada to exploit hippy girls and enjoy drug abuse. This contact with the counter-culture was probably based on his reading of Beat Generation literature. Gibson’s direct contact with the counter-culture of his time gives him a great ability to understand the psyches of his criminal drug-abusing characters. The influence of the Beat Generation also explains his ability to focus on the human side of events, instead of focusing on hard results pointless details.

I think that this novel deserves a heart because of the flow and speed of the storyline, and the life-like and compelling character development. I would even go so far as to say this is one of my favorite books of all time, even though I don’t usually enjoy science fiction the way I enjoyed this book.

The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With the Sea

Yukio Mishima. Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, The

Vintage International: New York, New York, 1965

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Japanese Fiction/Literature

Imagine a sailor, and you imagine a man lonely in his struggles and stoic in his survival amidst the beautiful tyranny of the unconquerable sea, the vast blue emptiness that covers our globe. So devoid of stability, devoid of safety, devoid of love; a place where a man might set himself against impossible odds and yet triumph gloriously whether his end lay at harbor or at the bottom of the deep blue. The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea tells the tale of a man leaving his life of eternal goodbyes for love, stability, and safety. His falling out with the great and glorious unknown not only marks the end of his life at sea, but also the end of Imperial Japan.

Yukio weaves his

tale with a copious use of symbolism and metaphor that evokes a yearning for the Japan of years past, a time when the glorious life of the samurai was honored and respected above all. The sailor, Ryuji, falls in love with a widow on shore while his ship stops in Japan to reload. The first time he spends with her is passionate and short-their meetings are marked by vivid visual and auditory imagery. He begins another exodus only a few days later, and Fusako, the widow, and her son, Noboru, come to the docks to watch him leave. His parting is marked by detailed imagery and concise metaphor. “The first stridulous blast of the horn came at fifteen minutes to six. Noboru, listening, knew that the phantom he had watched two nights before was real, understood that he was present at the spot where all dreams began and ended. Then he saw Ryuji; he was standing next to the Japanese flag.”(Yukio, 90) The blast of the horn hearkens to the love-making Ryuji and Fusako had enjoyed, and the Noboru had witnessed. In leaving Ryuji’s return is uncertain, as the sea is dangerous. To truly understand the text, one must know a little of Yukio Mishima, a man raised in a traditional samurai family. He watched the culture of the west invade his country and rips its own culture out from beneath it, to be replaced by rampant capitalism and democracy. Yukio believed that Japan should return to the ways of the samurai, evidenced by his suicide in the seppuku manner after writing his masterpiece and giving a speech idealizing the old traditions of Japan. From this historical standpoint the hidden metaphors become clear, placing Ryuji’s dangerous life at sea in line with the dangerous life of a samurai who must fight to survive and achieve glory. It also becomes clear that this pseudo-samurai is representative of the veridical Japan as Ryuji is placed decisively next to the Japanese flag. While a large part of the meaning in the novel lies with Ryuji, Noboru’s story controls most of the plot. Noboru is portrayed as the malleable youth of a country without the morals of the past. He is driven by a friend who is abandoned by his parents to believe that the world is filled with nothingness, that nothing has meaning and that only in maintaining the order within the nothingness is there any meaning; a strange philosophy that is reminiscent of nihilism. Noboru is at first enamored with the life of a sailor when Ryuji meets his mother, but as time progresses and Ryuji abandons the temerarious and glorious life at sea for the comfort of the land, Noboru becomes disenchanted. He and his band take it upon themselves to mete out justice for the faults in Ryuji’s new life decisions.

The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea is a poignant story that can be difficult to apprehend because each phrase carries so much meaning. Not a word is wasted on pointless description, which I enjoyed as a stark contrast to Tess of the d’Urbervilles and other Victorian manuscripts. I found the material of the book at first hard to swallow, as much of the content is taboo in the United States, but when this is dealt with and true meaning is drawn from the book it is a delightfully enjoyable read. It is heavy and deep, but it leaves one with an allegory to remember, not just an interesting story to read for the moment.

Volumes for Vietnam

When I think of someone who influenced me I do not think of those people who have moved me only to speak or to think as they do. I think of people who have moved me to act as they do.

Reading Leaving Microsoft to Change the World by John Wood has influenced me to do more than just think that I should follow my passion no matter the price as he gave up luxurious expatriate living to give opportunities to underprivileged children. It has made me believe that opportunities should belong to everyone, and that there are no limits to human innovation and accomplishment. These things John Wood has made me think and believe, but most importantly John Wood has inspired me to act.

As he chronicled and reflected on his journey into charity, I began mine. Brainstorming with the friend who recommended the book, we decided to build a library with Room to Read. I knew that if I wanted to reach my goal of 4,000 dollars to build a library in Vietnam, I would need to take chances. I knew that I would need to build a plan and follow through with it; I knew that I would need to work with people I had never met before to accomplish my goal, and I knew that I would need to work hard until the job was done.

First, I gathered a group of close friends to establish a plan of action. Intending to gather most of our funds from library and book store patrons, we approached libraries and local shops about setting up collection boxes. We were refused. Immediately, I realized that we would need guidance if we wanted to build our library. I determined that the most obvious place to go for advice would be the source of my influence.

I called Room to Read, John Wood’s charity, and acquired knowledge of several fundraising options and techniques. I set up a webpage with them for the fundraiser so that donors could donate instantly. Next, I planned events to raise money by donation, and set a deadline for the project. My friends and I approached the libraries a second time, and bargained for the right to advertise our fundraiser in their facilities. We spoke to teachers at our school in charge of our annual “Coin War” and convinced them to send the proceeds to our charity.

Being in the center of an organization bent on one singular goal is teaching me how to better build relationships with individuals and work with them to get things done. I’m learning to set goals and meet deadlines, and I’m learning to balance a busy schedule. Most importantly, I’m learning to take chances and be passionate about what I do, because if I am not passionate about what I do, then no one else will be either. Just as John Wood used his skills and his passion to change the world, I too will use my education and passion to change the world.