Alien Nation

Alienation: the state or experience of being isolated from a group or an activity to which one should belong or in which one should be involved.

In life, does anyone really “belong” to any group or activity? Sure, apples, bananas, and clementines go together where carrots, celery, and cucumbers go together. But when it comes to people, what determines who “should” or “should not” belong or be involved? Throughout Gogol’s life in The Namesake, he does his best to answer that question.

Starting first with the title, The Namesake itself stands out on a shelf. It’s no “Wizarding World of Harry Potter,” or “The Adventures of Frog and Toad,” which, where you should discourage yourself from judging a book by its cover, it emits an alluring essence. Upon the reader’s first glance at the book, the reader is instantly led to question “What about the namesake? And what namesake?” The title almost alienates itself, as it is left unable to fit into any traditional category or grouping. Through the title, readers are immediately encouraged to consider how the name Gogol will play into problems and connections and, in this case, alienation.

At a young age and at an old age, Gogol avoids alienation to an extent. He has connections with his heritage and with his American roots and his childish outlook keeps him content with himself. When he’s attending Bengali parties and studying Bengali heritage on every other Saturday to when he’s attending grade school and having American friends over for birthday parties, he always feels that he has a group that accepts him. A feeling that, like what happens with most kids-turned-teens, leaves.

Throughout the middle of his life represented in the book, he believes himself to be thoroughly alienated. He doesn’t feel like he deserves to be a part of his American friends and he doesn’t want to be a part of his Bengali friends (or should I say his parents’ friends). Though, where the pre-teen and teenage years prove awkward for everyone, Gogol allows his insecurities to take over his mind and forces alienation upon himself. He desires the idea of “fitting in” so badly that he is willing to sacrifice his family relationships as well as any safe haven he has come to know. He gladly puts his family’s needs last, dragging his feet at their Bengali parties and sneaking out of his house to smoke and party with his friends, and whether that be from the natural “rebellious teenage years” or his annoyance with the constant attention his family seems to seek is up for interpretation. He drives a wedge between himself and his family as soon as he leaves for college, visiting home as infrequent as possible and making up excuses as to why he can’t call back. 

However, through this alienation Gogol forces himself into in his “middle years” per se, he learns how to reconnect himself to a life of acceptance and refuse the impending isolation. He faces trial and error and grows from his failures. He learns, by the time he is 18, that he can be whoever he wants. He begins to battle the struggle he puts himself under regarding his pet name and takes his first step toward determining his grouping with the legal change.

And, though he takes plenty of small steps forward and large steps backwards, at the end of the novel, Gogol, in a sort of child-like eureka, determines that it isn’t up to anyone to tell him where he does or does not belong. It isn’t up to anyone to categorize him and isolate him. He realizes that it has been and will always be he who decides his fate. And where he used to heavily concern himself with what and where he fit in, he learns that he only opinion that matters is his own. And if he wants to connect with his heritage, so be it. And if he wants to connect with his birthplace, so be it. He realizes that every aspect that has affected his life up until now has made him who he is and has determined the group he belongs to. After all of the tribulations he had to combat, he realizes that he can’t escape himself and accepts who he wants to be.

Who? : A Timeline.

Pardon the name confusion within this post. Lol, bear with me.

Identity, quite arguably the most important theme in The Namesake. Two Bengalis, man and woman, travel to Cambridge, America from Calcutta, India. They have a son, born to them in America, of whom they name after a Russian author: Gogol. Which chops that up to a Bengali boy living in the U.S. with a Russian name and a traditional mother. He grew up in American public schools and every other Saturday attended Bengali heritage classes. His mother made friends with as many Bengali families in as many possible areas, which led them to constantly attend and host parties for their large circle. And Gogol grew up hating it, hating that he didn’t know who he was.

0-5 years old. Gogol thought nothing of his name. Like most kids that age, he found himself to be “normal,” capable of fitting in with the Bengali friends he’s made as a result of his parent’s parties as well as the American kids that attend his school. So, naturally, if none of his friends are concerned with their identities at this point in his life, should he be? Kids are known to be the most innocent, before nurture can overtake the nature of their personalities.

6-10 years old. Gogol wants to keep his pet name. His parents decided that his pet name will remain Gogol but they will change his Good Name to Nikhil. He’s enrolled at an American school, delaying his first day by a week to avoid leaving home and making his first major transition away from his mother, and when he goes in with his parents to meet his principal, he refuses to respond to his Good Name. His dad, in a coaxing manner, leans down and convinces “Gogol” that everything is going to be alright… While the principal writes down his pet name in the margin of her paperwork. After his parents leave the office, the choice is left up to Gogol: pet name or Good Name. And at this point in time, Gogol makes the decision that he wants to keep the familiarity of his home close in his mind and the sense of security within him through the enunciation of his five letter pet name. A decision that, as a kindergartener, seals his inescapable identity as Gogol Ganguli.

11-17 years old. Gogol is left confused by his name. It isn’t Indian, it isn’t American, it has nothing to do with him, his past, or what he sees in his future. So what if it’s his dad’s favorite author? It’s not his. He dreads the identity associated with his Russian-based namesake, most intensely noted when he wishes for anything except the lesson on Nikolai Gogol in his 11th grade high school English class. Gogol mentions feeling his entire face turn red and flushed with embarrassment, feeling like all of the kids in his class were staring at him. But, despite his anxiety, each time he looked around the room, none of his classmates gave him so much as a second glance. Was he hoping, somewhere deep inside himself, that his classmates would actually give him a reason to react? A reason to feel humiliated, to feel pained, some hardship he could bring home to his parents to make them feel guilty for ever having associated their American-born Indian son with a depressed Russian author? And, although he never received the dramatic staring, pointing, whispering, taunting, and bullying he was expecting, Gogol still played the scenario in his head a million times over, of what could’ve happened, what he thought should’ve happened, and grew to hate his name even more. His own mentality of how he pictured everyone else seeing him, though incorrect, caused him to isolate himself from more than a few friends, from girls to any degree, and from his family. He let his insecurities take over his identity.

18-25 years old. When he reached an age where he can legally sign US documents, Gogol changed his name. The name he wished he wasn’t given in kindergarten was the name he longed for in high school. Gogol connected a sense of confidence, luck, and strength to the name Nikhil, mostly due to the fact that a girl under the impression that he was Nikhil shared his first kiss at a college party, which drew him to like it so much. He went through college as Nikhil, a different and changed person, deeper than just his name. Nikhil was better equipped with making friendships and talking to girls. Two-thirds of his girlfriends dated Nikhil. But he was still confused with his identity. Does he get to choose the person he becomes? Or is it up to his parents? As Nikhil, he learned the true meaning of his pet name, Gogol. How his father believes he owes his life to Nikolai Gogol. And Nikhil better appreciates and connects himself to his pet name and his father’s intentions and even his mother’s beliefs as he understands the reason behind his namesake.

26-32 years old. Gogol connects with his name. After failed relationships with Americans Ruth and Maxine and Maxine’s inability to understand or comfort Gogol in the time his father passed away, Gogol reconnects himself to his old family friend Moushumi, only to begin to find security in the familiarity she brings. He feels free to open himself as Gogol or as Nikhil, aware that she now knows him as both, as either, and he enjoys how open he can be with her. However, it’s obvious from early on that Moushumi isn’t ready to be tied down, she isn’t ready to jump into eternity, whether she likes Gogol or not. She yearns to be abroad, to be her own person, to keep her own last name and to be with whoever she pleases. Where she also finds security in the heritage that she and Gogol share, she wants to escape it. And her steady disconnection with Gogol and her gradual cutting of ties with him starts the beginning of the end for her life with Gogol. The moment Moushumi starts to crave another man’s touch more than she craves her husband’s, she’s already too far gone. And Gogol is left alone, fatherless, his mother moving out of the country for half the year, his sister happily married, and he unmarried. A turn of events that leaves him, after feeling like he has figured out his identity and proven who he was, questioning everything once again. Leaving him cracking open his copy of Nikolai Gogol’s “The Overcoat” and finding out for himself who his father intended he be.

She's The Man. Oh wait, I mean Twelfth Night

In a rare act of defiance, I, Olivia Watt, will use only She’s The Man gifs and photos throughout this blog. In another side note, I would like it to be known that at this point in time, at 9:20 PM on Thursday April 12th, 2018, that I am only in the beginning of Act 3 Scene 4 of Twelfth Night. But I’ve seen She’s The Man so we all good. *hint hint*

In the twisted comedy, Twelfth Night, love is based on utter romantic confusion. Orsino loves the Countess Olivia who’s in mourning over the loss of her brother but quickly falls in love with Cesario who is actually Viola in disguise as a eunuch that a sailor who saved her life helped her achieve who loves Orsino who is the same guy that’s fully convinced he loves Olivia. Malvolio loves Olivia and the power that would come with her courtship where Sir Andrew loves the ideas of Olivia and manliness and knightmanship put in his head by Sir Toby who seems to have a thing for Olivia’s maid Maria who hates Malvolio. But honestly, everyone hates Malvolio. Also, there’s some 1600’s shade thrown in with references to homosexuality and gender confusion and experimentation. The experimental kinds of love and hidden, secretive loves and overall love despite gender misconceptions all rise to the surface waters in this Shakespearean comedy. Which is where a majority of the humor is found.

Different kinds of love are present in all stages and aspects of life. I love God and roller coasters and my boyfriend and sports. I love food and I love my dog and I love my friends. I loved my parents immediately as a baby. I loved my siblings from the moment I knew they existed. I loved my first crush and my first relationship and I’m going to love my husband. I’m going to love my children and life and so much more. There’s romantic love and take-for-granted love and family love and material love and unreciprocated. There’s situational love and uncontrolled love and appreciative love and purely kind love. But not all of these “loves” take the same form; these different types of love don’t mean the same thing in the same context to any degree. I don’t love my dog in the same way I love running. I don’t love eating rice in the same way I love my dad. And I definitely don’t love my boyfriend in the same way I love indoor plumbing.

Where I’m sure arguments can be made as to love being an overused and overgeneralized term, it’s not up to anyone but myself to determine my definition of “love.” Similarly how it’s not up to me to determine anyone else’s definition. With that being said, it’s not up to me to determine whether some forms of love are better than others to anyone except myself. It’s up to me to decide whether some forms of love are better than others within my own life. And, honestly, I do my best to cherish every form of love I receive. But, in my life, some of the best types of love include the support of my family, the loyalty of my dog, the acceptance of my friends, and the strength in my relationship, to name a few. But who’s to say these are universal perceptions? My perception of love differs from the perception of love in Twelfth Night which differs from the perception of love in Sweet Bird of Youth and The Namesake.

Characters like Olivia and Viola/Cesario fall in love fast and unplanned, without premeditation. Characters like Count Orsino and Alexandra del Lago fall in love without much reasoning or person-to-person knowledge to back it up. Characters like Ashima and Heavenly don’t have much of a choice as to who they fall in love with. And characters like Chance and Malvolio fall in love more with the idea of someone and what the picture of what their life will become rather than the person itself. And just because I don’t empathize with the same types of love doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

Thx Cambridge!

#WhenYouWriteAt6AMButCan’tFindGifsTill10PM

To be honest, I didn’t find any of these three criticisms great. Maybe I’m just becoming an angry writer. Maybe it’s just my “voice.” Who knows.

The first criticism definitely embodied my view of the play and, even then, I wasn’t even quite sure what the first line was trying to achieve! “Southern Gothic horror story.” What exactly is Gothic or horrific about this play? I definitely see the Southern aspect, with Boss Finley trying to protect the “pure blood” of their town by castrating a black man or the mere politics involved in general seem to be the stereotypical problems of the South. Nothing exciting happens down here unless it’s sex! Thanks Tennessee Williams!

But, back to the first criticism, there were parts I agreed with. When Hirsch writes that “As [Chance Wayne’s] name blatantly indicates, though, his chances are waning.” That may be one of the lines I agree most with out of the three criticisms and it was in the first paragraph! However, it then proceeds to go over my head with comparisons to “Val Xavier in Battle of Angels” and by bringing in the criticism of other critics, like Robert Brustein’s puzzled response to Chance’s character. Uh, Foster Hirsch, isn’t this supposed to be your opinion?

Hirsch goes on to then claim William’s said he was unsuccessful with Finley because he just hated him so much. But I feel like that’s what made him so terribly great. Everyone hated Boss Finley, or at least almost everyone in my class did. Boss “believes” that he was called by the Voice of God to serve his town, which is a complete contrast that Williams did a great job setting up. An awfully evil medium for which God can speak through and rectify change through? I don’t think so, Boss. All holy and loving of all but controlling his daughter, castrating a black man, completely opposing Chance’s embodiment of Christ himself, and, to quote Chance, “preaching hate.” Maybe that’s why Boss has such a twisted personality.

However, Firsch did the best job, of the three blogs, touching on the fact that the Sweet Bird of Youth just wasn’t good. It was alright, for sure. It held my attention… sometimes. When Princess wasn’t rambling on about something at least. But there was not enough character development in this play. As Jenna says, everyone seemed so shallow. And I wholeheartedly agree. I feel like the play had weak structure, little to no flow from one act to the other, and it was overall disconnected. None of the criticisms seemed to touch much on that, except for the first one. After an entire paper, he ends with claiming it was “carelessly constructed.” But, despite that negative criticism, he does attempt to end on a positive note which I see no need for. Trying to justify the shortness of the play, the unconnected acts and unsupported characters. But why? This play was no good, that’s ok to admit, no positive justification is needed.

However, I feel like the second criticism didn’t even read the play, they just watched the movie or something and made up all the rest of their critiques out of thin air to hit a word count. How do they know he “only got as far as the chorus of a Broadway production of Oklahoma?” How are they so sure that Chance contracted a disease from a wealthy woman through his work as a gigolo? I feel like there is a lot left unsaid, given that there is only three acts, but Tennessee Williams was so picky about how the entire play was set up, why would he leave the reasons behind why things happen up to interpretation? I feel like the second criticism will gladly make up parts of the story in order to have the puzzle pieces connect, but how can we be sure that Tennessee wanted that to happen? What if the entire play was just that, the play? There is no deeper meaning than that.

And where I feel like the second criticism discredits itself with the huge amounts of interpretation, the third criticism wasn’t much better. The third criticism is longer than the play! Where do they even gather enough information to write that much? In the third criticism, I don’t think they accurately portrays the play in a way I agree with. And Griffin states that Princess and Chance are the two best characters. Uh no? I definitely disagree because Boss was the best character Williams was able to display, despite his awful characteristics. He’s a complete stereotype, mistress and all, and he makes the most sense out of anyone in this short, drawn out play! Finley is a complete contradiction, loving on Miss Lucy in a hotel room but hating on Chance for the exact same actions! How does Griffin know Lucy wanted Chance to leave to protect Heavenly? She doesn’t seem to be too fond of the Finley family that day. And, honestly, I think the third criticism has too many quotes, too much summary, and not enough evaluation.

Overall, I don’t think any of the criticisms touched on my biggest question: WHY? Why was this play written? Why does this entire town CARE so much? Why were they all awaiting Chance’s return? I just don’t understand. And these three criticisms did not help me better understand the reason why this play was written.

More First Impressions About 4 New Characters

The Sweet Bird of Youth: Act 2 Scene 1

5.) Aunt Nonnie ain’t slick.


So, not only does Nonnie just come barreling up to the front porch, or the veranda if you want to use fancy Tennessee Williams lingo, but she also “inconspicuously” rummages through her purse for who-knows-what. SMOOTH MOVE, LADY. She’s so turned up that she claims she doesn’t even notice Boss Finley standing by the open front door. So, honestly, my first thought was, “Is this chick addicted to drugs and hasn’t popped any pills yet?” And it was also, “Is she just hiding communications with Chance or is there more?” And, “Does she have a thing for Chance or is she just looking out for Heavenly?” But with only 10 lines, I guess it’s hard to get a sound first impression.

However, in her short appearance on stage, she did have a point I appreciated about violence. “[Violence] never solves young people’s problems.” Presumably hinting at both Tom Finleys. And just giving good advice. So maybe this lady isn’t completely crazy after all.



6.) Could there be a more stereotypical son?


Tom Finley Jr. What a guy. That’s about as much as I thought when I first caught his vibe. Next thought? I don’t like this kid. Sketchy, ungrateful, spoiled, nosey, unnoticed rich kid. With a whiny tone. Has a, “But, daddy, I said I wanted a pony, not a puppy!” feel, from what I can tell up to this point. I started to get that feeling when he first started talking about Dan Hatcher and Chance Wayne and his “inside” knowledge on the Royal Palms Hotel. Then he’s all “[Heavenly is] lyin’ out on the beach like a dead body washed up on it.” Is he defensive that his dad is still more interested in Heavenly, even though TFJr. has alllllllll the inside gossip hookups? Or is he just weird? He’s basically saying “Hey dad I’m smart, look at me! I just dug up all this dirt! Give me attention!” Did someone say butt-kisser?

Honestly, maybe he’s feeling pretty neglected since the press and his own father seem to favor his sister over him and he feels the need to find ways to earn him some attention. Like a teenager who wants some attention, negatively or positively, TFJr. has tried and is willng to try just about anything to get some love from his old man. Whether that means just mooching on the attention his sister already gets from the press and their father or if that means forming a cult that actively promotes disobedience, he seems to be participating. And he seems to choose mooching off of his sister’s current attention. Smart kid. A tried and true, through and through male Gossip Girl. 

7.) But I can’t figure out the sister’s deal either.


Heavenly Finley. One confusing lady. At 15, she let Chance Wayne take naked pictures of her and apparently, “she loved him,” or whatever. Even though I have lowkey suspicions that she’s more in love with the idea of him. She’s embarrassed that “George Scudder’s knife had cut the youth out of [her] body.” So she’s embarrassed that she had an abortion, or a, “whore’s operation,” as referred to by her father, and the intense press presence that knows all about her personal life story. Through the diction she uses, like “cut the youth out,” and, “old childless woman,” we’re led to see Heavenly in a derogatory light and a negative tone. She’s hinting depression and suicide to the audience, especially when she says, “I feel as if I ought to rattle like a dead dried-up vine when the Gulf Wind blows.” The physical abortion she underwent mentally destroyed her; the literal cutting of life from her body figuratively sucked her youth away. Heavenly often times repeats a line about when she “used to be” alive inside. So now she’s dead inside? But she’s hanging out by the water? Which is a direct contrast, given that she is describing herself as death and surrounding herself with life.

But back to my lowkey suspicions that she loves the idea of him more than she loves Chance himself, it could make sense. She’s going against her dad with a sneaky relationship, and we know from her father’s line, “Oh, I know, …in your heart you always wished to defy me,” that she butts heads with the guy often. Isn’t that the stereotypical teenage ideal? Break your parents rules, rebel against them, do something just because they don’t want you to. And Chance wiped away Heavenly’s picture of purity. He took something away from Heavenly that Boss couldn’t control, and Heavenly is in love with the idea that her father had no control. Boss wants Heavenly to dress in all white like a virgin and display her pureness to the entire town. But does Heavenly want that? No. And Chance Wayne was her first taste of rebellion, which started an addiction she can’t get enough of. She’ll always be looking to hit that first high she had with Chance but she’s not going to find it.

And hopefully this isn’t one of those Catcher in the Rye pieces of literature where Holden and Jane never actually see each other.

8.) So that’s why he’s the Boss.


Maybe this is just a stereotypical family. Boss Finley is, as the name employs, bossy, controlling, deceptive, slightly creepy (despite Tennessee’s side note that Boss looks at Heavenly in a non-romantic, fatherly way), obsessed, rude, fake, whiny (I see where his son gets it), grumpy, possessive, slimy, and those were just my initial thoughts.

He’s OBSESSED with Heavenly. I get it, your wife passed away and your daughter is the spitting image of your wife in her youth. However, still feeling that way and looking at your daughter like the picture of perfection when you host a mistress at a local hotel? (Fake) And spend more money on this secret lady than on both of your kids combined? (Fake) Or how about shoo-ing your son under the table for five grand after driving drunk? (Fake) Trying to portray an image of perfection and brushing negativity under the rug rather than addressing the problems at its root? (Fake) I feel like Boss has this sort of me-against-the-world mentality and it shows through in his aggressive diction. Like when he’s talking to Tom Junior about Miss Lucy and he goes from, “What’re you talkin’ about?” to, “That is a goddam lie. Who says Miss Lucy says that?” I see you, Boss, all defensive and whatnot. You’re real SMOOTH too, buddy. Or when he has that “ultra-power” feeling when he’s just ungrateful and smack talking their manservant Charles, later admitting to Heavenly, “I have power, which is not an illusion.” Well congratulations, sir.

Maybe I just don’t like this guy. He has zero respect for females. Cheating on his wife with a mistress, only giving a crap about his daughter when she’s causing bad publicity, treating Aunt Nonnie like she’s a straight up moron and telling her to her face that she’s as “gullible as [his] wife was.” He’s demanding and straight up rude. But maybe that’s just because I wouldn’t respond to the way he has spoken to any of the women seen thus far. And, even though Tennessee claims that his “affection” for Heavenly is purely fatherly and not romantic, I feel like his possessiveness and control over her is creepy nonetheless. Boss can’t get over the fact that he wasn’t in control of the time and place and age and way Heavenly lost her virginity. So not only is he all up in her personal business, he’s also judging her for it rather than providing guidance or lending her a hand. She’s going through a rough time and he’s more concerned with the image she’s putting out than the hardships she’s facing.


But maybe I’m wrong. They’re called first impressions for a reason.

4 First Impressions About 2 Main Characters

The Sweet Bird of Youth: Act 1 Scene 1 

1.) How OLD is Princess?!

Soooooo, based on the background we already know prior to reading, Princess is middle aged but her career is based on her youthful looks and mannerisms. She’s a sex addict, so she’s made her way around the block a few times, if you know what I mean. Maybe that gives her some wisdom? In a weird way? But another thing that stuck out to me, other than her fancy illegal Moroccan drugs, was the way in which she spoke. She sounds like an overdramatic grandmother to a snobby, dependent grandson. If I didn’t have the background and I never saw an actress playing her role (as an actress ha-ha), I would probably instead picture a much older woman, solely because of her diction.

First, a huge bell-going-off-in-someone’s-head is definitely when she freaks out without either of two things: her breathing machine and her glasses. Uh, OK, so she can’t breathe or see I guess. When she says to Chance, “Wouldn’t that be pretty? A year in jail in one of those model prisons for distinguished addicts. What is it? Don’t you know what it is you beautiful, stupid young man? It’s hashish, Moroccan, the finest,” she throws up a few red flags. The biggest one is when she calls him a stupid, young man. She obviously knows he’s younger, but I’d assume most other women in her position would be at least somewhat ashamed to admit they just slept with a man half their age. Then again, she even admits to Chance that she’s “not common.” But also, back to my earlier exploitation of her dialogue, she then depicts an entire, dramatic image for being caught with her illegal substances, overdramatizing the event in a way that any regular woman wouldn’t do and any youth just wouldn’t care to take the time to do. But I guess back to her whole spiel of “In all respects I’m not common,” line. To me, however, the whole useless imagery she paints makes her sound pretty darn old. And definitely not middle aged having existential crises every few hours. Like nearing her deathbed old.

2.) Princess talks. A LOT.

Honestly, right after I realized Princess talked with ancient language, I decided she uses way too much of it. Her dialogue takes far too long to explain far too little. She could easily condense her thoughts into a couple of words. But I understand she’s in the acting career and she has to add some flair to what she has to say in order to get any respect as an actress. And after being successful and in the industry so long, it most likely is just ingrained in her consciousness to use as much space as possible to say as little as possible.

For example, when she had that huge “remembering” of how she was so embarrassed that people saw how she was losing her youthfulness that she tripped over her dress trying to run away from the audience. She used twenty sentences to say what I could in two. “I was so embarrassed when I tried to come-back to acting with a youthful look and people in the audience audibly gasped that I ran away from them and tripped over my over-elaborate ball gown. Then I was more embarrassed because I fell.” Maybe it just doesn’t have the same dramatic effect she did. But, all talk of dramatic effect aside, Princess takes up far more lines than Chance does in this scene. Which left a huge impression on me right off the get-go that Princess likes to have the spotlight on her… Literally and metaphorically.

And honestly, maybe I’m a culprit of using so much space to say one statement right now in this blog. Using 296 words to say what realistically could be done in seven; “Princess talks a lot more than Chance.” But where’s the dramatic effect in that?

3.) Is Chance just dumb?

I was struck with the impression that maybe Chance is just an idiot. Maybe 65% of the way through the reading I was hit with that realization. Right at the time where he’s all smug about busting her drugs with the tape recorder and then she counters him with her (might I add lengthy) speech about how bad he is at playing the villain. She says, “You are trembling and sweating… You see, this part doesn’t suit you, you just don’t play it well, Chance,” drawing out his insecurities and calling him out for poorly executed acting. She’s pointing out that, despite his tough face and strong attempts, he just isn’t cutting it. Which could potentially spiral Chance into a black hole of thinking he wasn’t good enough and that’s why his acting never took off, etc. showing how Princess knew exactly how to manipulate him (maybe her wisdom does come with her sex addiction).

Then, after realizing that maybe Chance was not intelligent, through reading the rest of the play and skimming back through the beginning to test my theory, Princess somehow convinces him that she needs to “forget” through the “act of love-making” and that the only person she “wants” for such a deed is him. Chance was so ready to lock her down and force her to sign his contract to get him on a super-talented-and-respected acting career but the second she started to chip away at his exterior, he melted straight into a puddle of pure puppetry, his every thought being controlled by Princess. Is he dumb or is he just insecure?


4.) Why’s Chance such a weenie?

“Oh, I’m so cool I can blackmail older women and sleep with them in the same day. I’m so cool for being a male prostitute and then also trying to force the women I’m with into signing me for a record. Oh, it’s so cool that I’m such a great, undiscovered actor who does drugs and probably has a drinking problem. Ohhhhhh, I’m sooooooo cool for being so sneaky about bringing this older woman who can’t even remember what she had for dinner last night to St. Cloud so I actually can just hook back up with my old high school sweetheart I ditched a bunch of years back. Ooooo I can get mad at my old friends for getting engaged to my ex-girlfriend after I ran away from town and left everything behind. So cool.”

I feel like Chance is a big weenie. I started getting that feeling when he called Princess a, “plump lady,” and when he wanted, “the Bromo first,” when Fly was at his hotel room and when he was only focused on Heavenly, even after finding out his mother had passed away (but seriously how did he not know that?!). He’s vibing straight rudeness half the time, a condescending attitude half the time, and clear ignorance the other half of the time. Maybe I’m just feeling negative about this guy but I really am not painting too good of an image. Might I restate the fact that he didn’t even know his MOM DIED, yet even after he did find out he still NEGLECTED TO CARE. Uh, if he doesn’t spell out W-E-E-N-I-E, I don’t know what else does.

"And this is a glimpse into my take on poetry..."

SO I love poetry and I love blogs. SO MUCH. And I’m SO EXCITED to be blogging again. (Half sarcastic but actually half true) But also poetry really confuses me 10/10 times.




And so what makes a poem good?


Well, of course, all the basics. Imagery, tone, diction, symbolism, other words that make you sound smart, etc. Throw in some deeper meaning and some other pizzazz, finesse the reader a bit. That makes it good. But great? That’s another story.


To me, great poetry has all of the qualities I mentioned earlier (obviously). But what separates good from great is the vested interest of the poet. How well can the writing be related back to their lives? How passionate is the poet’s diction? What is his/her main purpose in constructing a published work of literature? Can we tell how powerful the poem was to the poet?


And I think great poems are pretty dang hard to find.







Concerning Robert Frost, I think his best poem was “The Road Not Taken.” Not for any of the cliche reasons, like it’s probably one of the most common poems seen and schools use it in yearbooks and stores print it on bookmarks, but because it umbrellas all of the other poems he writes. In every other poem we’ve read by Robert Frost, there’s been at least one line (or even one word) that relates to his theme of traveling a different path than what was expected.


Even though he has poetry dating from before and after the 1916 published date of “The Road Not Taken,” I feel that his writing in that poem constructs a theme that relates all of his other works of literature together. For example, in “The Axe-Helve,” despite the strong metaphor for two men exploring each other’s sexuality, also represents taking a different path. In the early 1900’s, was homosexuality acceptable in society? Only in more recent years are people beginning to open up to how they really feel and through societal standards aside. Also, in “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” Frost seemingly mimics the exact writing style of “The Road Not Taken,” with his use of four stanzas and rhymes at the end of the lines. The only difference is that each stanza is four lines in Snowy Evening where there are five lines in Not Taken. 

And, given that traces of his words in “The Road Not Taken” can be widely found in other works of literature, given that this was an extremely powerful poem to Frost, given that he has a powerful passion for what he wrote, I think that “The Road Not Taken” was Robert Frost’s best poem.


But, if I were to go on and begin describing what makes a bad poem, well, who really am I to judge from a poet’s perspective? All I can do is make determinations from a reader’s perspective. And, to me, other than lack of connection, lack of at least a small hint to guide the reader on the path to what the poem is possibly about, lack of care for the future reader, poetry really can’t be “bad” if it means something to the author. It shouldn’t be up to me to determine “great” from “bad” when I feel like we should at least try to find the good? What makes me the who-says on a piece of work a poet probably spent days, weeks, or months on? Who says my opinion as a reader is even valid?


Because why should I be judging the value of a poem that belongs to someone else?





But, if I had to, I’d probably say “The Death of The Hired Man” was my least favorite that we’ve read as a class. (Kudos to Mackenzie L. for banging that poem analysis out!!) It might’ve been the fact that I had a headache that day, or the fact that I was up later that night before and had a hard time focusing while in class, or any combination of any factors that could possibly contribute to that poem being my least favorite (like maybe it was just because it was soooooo long and my brain shut off). To me, I felt like Frost used way too many words to try to convey one meaning, which I don’t entirely get in the first place. There was way too much dialogue, to the point where I couldn’t tell what was what and who was talking when. I feel like I couldn’t connect this to any of the Frost experiences I know of, I couldn’t take any hints as to what the poem was really about, and I didn’t think Frost really wrote this for readers to understand.




Now, maybe in his eyes, this is his best piece of work. But, from my perspective as a reader, I believe this was his worst.


And this is a glimpse into my take on poetry.