George Herbert - An Okay Dude

Well, it appears as if I've taken a liking to your arch-nemesis, Sarah. Being a writer myself, I certainly appreciate Herbert's low tolerance for bullsh*t. His writing reflects his expectations of writers: writing with a purpose, writing concisely. His rhyme scheme is like his vocabulary: simple. His writing is, however, guilty of being ladened down with metaphors. (See: "The Bunch of Grapes"...one giant tangle of metaphors.) Yet, this would only be construed as unclear to contemporary readers as Herbert's audience was privy to the sorts of Bible references sprinkled about Herbert's work. I was also quite amused by the physical shape "The Alter" and "Easter Wings" took. Adorable. My respect for him as a writer comes specifically from reading "Jordan (1)" and "Jordan (2)." In both of the poems, Herbert tells us exactly what he thinks of the fluff writers of his time. While I'm not a huge fan of the content of his work (See: Anglican Church, See Also: Christianity), I can appreciate how frustrating it must have been to have been surrounded by fluff writers and copy cats producing empty work without sustenance or purpose to entertain the masses. While his writing is simple, he communicates this idea in a most eloquent and clever manners. (See: false hair, See Also: winding stair and painted chair; pg. 1611).

Also, I couldn't really find the connection between the beginning of Jourdan (2) and the beginning of Act III, Scene I of Jonson's Volpone...must've missed something.

Of Superstition by Sir Francis Bacon n' Eggs (I had to)

Ya' got me! I was so convinced Bacon was giving the godless crew props, but that crafty Devil was merely using us in a "lesser-of-the-two-evils" example! Perhaps I would have realized that ahead of time if I had read the very first line more carefully: "It were better to have no opinion of God at all than that such an opinion as is unworthy of him." I suppose you read things the way you want them to be. I respect his opinion though. Bacon's sticking to his guns. If you're going to believe in my god, do it right, or don't do it at all. I respect that. My favorite part has got to be the listing. "The causes of Superstition are: etc etc etc" I'll spare you the list but it's funny.

Of Marriage and Single Life...well, Bacon lost me there. I'm not a fan of marriage...at all, so when I read "Chaste women are often proud and froward as presuming upon the merit of their chastity," Let us take note that "froward" here means 'ill-tempered', I was far from amused. Then again, I'm a contemporary woman...maybe unmarried 17th century women were proud and ill-tempered.

Volpone - Well, this one is just filled with rainbows and sunshine!

I like Jonson. He appeals to my cynical tendencies. Volpone is one of those works where everybody just gets screwed over. Mosca's condemned to life as a galley slave, Volpone is sent to prison, Voltore is disbarred, Corbaccio's property is seized, Corvino is publically humiliated, and Celia...well, good luck, Hon. I like this because it's honest. Volpone is a friendly little reminder that reality does not entail a hero's happy ending, a villain's comeuppance, or a lesson learned. It is human nature to be selfish, to be greedy, to look after one's self. It's humanity's base, primitive origin. Only a nearly negligible percentage of individuals have sought to adopt pristine motives in life and they are almost always abused/taken advantage of by the less than pristine crowd. Jonson knows we know this; thus, he's not going to bullsh*t us with a happy ending. I appreciate honesty, even in the literature I read...especially in the literature I read.

As far as my opinion of the individual characters, I found myself favoring Volpone, not because he is of any higher moral standing than any of the other characters, but because of the way he played with the other characters. Not that I condone that type of behavior, but I believe that between immoral and cunning or immoral and thick, immoral and cunning is the lesser of the two evils. Besides, if you're going to abandon logic for the sake of money, then you deserve whatever comes your way. While I do commend his toying with greedy fools, I feel I must stress my disdain for Volpone. He is, no doubt, a weasel. It becomes unmistakably clear just how sniveling a coward he is in the scene between him and Celia. Had Bonario not burst out from behind the curtain to save her, I still seriously doubt Volpone would have had it in him to rape Celia. He spends so much time trying to convince her to sleep with him because he knows that he has a much higher chance of manipulating her mentally than he does of manipulating her physically.

And just a side note: that song was one of the creepiest passages I have ever read! I pictured the whole thing and it was so disturbing and pathetic and lecherous all at once. That's all I have to say about that.

Week 6 - Cereal Sonnet

My inspiration for this sonnet is obvious. After a night of rollicking tom-foolery, all I want, all ANYBODY wants is to go home and get a huge bowl of delicious sugary cereal with 1% milk. But no, you can't do that because the whole damn house is asleep and cereal packaging at 4 in the morning can be heard down the block. My Ode to midnight munchies...My Cereal Sonnet:

I could have Cocoa Puffs or Pops or Kix

or those apple cinnamon cherrios!

I could have Froot Loops or Chocos or Trix

or those uber epic Oreo O's!

You've got the munchies, cereal's the cure

The perfect combo of sugar and crunch.

It will satisfy your craving for sure

When four in the morning's your cue to munch.

You stumble home, everyone has turned in.

You tip toe through the kitchen, bowl in hand.

You unroll the plastic and oh the din!

"Cease that infernal racket!" they demand

Sound waves, why must your rob me of such joys?!

Cereal packaging makes so much noise!

Week 4 - Spencer is, in fact, Badass

I have to say, I went to Catholic schools for eleven years (by no stretch of the imagination am I Catholic, that's just how things worked out) and not once did my religion teacher mention the whore of Babylon riding in on a seven-headed beast when the earth ends. It figures they would cut out the fun bits. I must have skipped over that page in Revelations. This is just me appreciating the 12 year old boy aspect of the Fairie Queene. Contrary to the imagery suggested by the title, there is quite a healthy serving of blood, guts, dragons and witches. I approve.

I do wonder, however, if our interpretations are correct. If Spencer were to sit in on our discussions, would he commend us on our cunning ability to decipher his work and discover the deeper meaning behind the 12 year old boy appeal of the Fairie Queene? Or would he simply inform us that the dragon is not Catholicism or Immorality or the embodiment of all that is hellish and evil; it is merely a badass, fire-breathing, steel-scaled lizard of mayhem and destruction and we are cheapening its badassness with out fancy interpretations and associations. Shame on us.

On a more scholarly and less badass note, I most certainly appreciate Spencer's transformation of Una from a damsel in distress to a heroine. She didn't save little forest animals, she didn't save another woman, she didn't even save a regular old Joe; she saved a knight. Specifically, she saved the knight that was supposed to be saving her. Whether or not Una represents Queen Elizabeth (which I do in fact think she does), I appreciate a woman being portrayed as heroic, especially considering the time period.

As for the political aspect, it seems that nobody has ever liked Catholics. I am also enrolled in a Victorian literature course and the Bronte sisters seemed to loathe Catholics as well.

What I find most impressive though is Spencer's a ability to maintain a rhyme scheme throughout the entire story! I was so wrapped up in the plot that I did not even realize there were rhyme schemes present! It is flawless. I can not even begin to imagine the effort and time he put into that. It is no wonder he was unable to complete it. Spot on, Spencer. Spot on.

Week Two - More's Utopia (aka Borg Collective)

More's deceptively eloquent and thorough portrayal of Utopia was most reminiscent of Plato's Republic. Both More and Plato had very specific theories on developing perfect societies by manifesting rigid and perfectly balanced structures for the individuals of the collective in question. There were distinct differences between the two men; however, the general concepts were harmonious: pristine motives, strong work ethics, consistency, and nobody went to bed hungry. And most importantly, emotion became a non-issue. This was, of course, reasonable to keep the delicate balance of the Republic/Utopia from falling into complete chaos. Everyone knows that emotions like fear, anger, and panic are the leading causes of chaos. For More, if there were too many people in the Utopia, they were moved. If one city ran out of food, another shared with it. If there weren't enough blacksmiths, a young man was expected to gladly give up his dreams of becoming a farmer and take of the post of blacksmith. The Utopia was kept in balance.

Utopia was also reminiscent of Johnathan Swift's A Modest Proposal. Like Swift convinced me that eating babies to sustain economy, feed the poor, and decrease the surplus population was a swell idea, More convinced me to believe all of the crap that I wrote above. There is a reason that these ideas were theories and never came into fruition. All incentives aside, More's theory removed the identity of a person. He almost had me convinced, but a society of drones made me lose my appetite. While it may be counterproductive, an individual should have the right to sit on his ass all day and gamble until he's broke and naked having traded in the shirt off of his back. While More's ideas may not seem as extreme as eating babies, they're close. If I want to be a cross-dressing juggler instead of a blacksmith, then I'm going to be a cross-dressing juggler. If I want to raise my son myself instead of shipping him off to a stranger, you had better keep your damn hands off of him.