Where Does all the Time go?

Hello Fellow Bloggers, 

Final blog of the term and the final assignment as a freshman! Feels quite odd that the year went by so quickly but it feels good to almost cross the finish line.  Well since I started out my blogging journey with a feminist view might as well finish it that way!

Bringing it back a couple weeks ago I challenge you all to think back to March 27th when we were assigned Tagore's "Punishment".  This story was short and sweet.  It started out with a bang and ended with one too, my type of poem.  This story depicted a stereotypical husband who expects his wife to bow at his feet.  Brothers Dukhiram Rui and Chidam Rui go to work while they leave their women at home, upon their arrival home, "Dukhiram, famished, said gruffly,"Give me my food".  This sequence sets the stage for his wife's, Radha, death.  He is so mad that he "plunged his knife into her head" killing her.  

If that is not enough Chidam fears that his brother will be put in prison or even put to death he tries to blame the death on his own wife!  In doing this he tries to have his cake and eat it too, in saving his brother and keeping his wife.  This plan horribly backfires as Chidam's wife, Chandara, defies him in a heroic "girl power" stance sacrificing her own life just to show her husband that she is not his property and will not do everything he asks of her. 

Chandara's last line, "To hell with him" was just the icing on the cake to leave Chidam feeling like a fool.

Yours in Writing, 

Hailey Browne

Same Old Same Old

Hello Fellow Bloggers,

I don't know if its been just these past couple readings where the same pattern happens over and over again.    The short stories that we have been assignment have just been doing the same thing! droning on and on about daily life patterns over the span of page after page and then BOOM something happens and the story ends. Do these authors really think they can make up for dullness of their stories by just one incredible thing happening at the end? I think not.

First we see it Achebe's Things Fall Apart, when all that really happens throughout the story is a few tribal stories are said and then yams are harvested.  And then all of a sudden in a chaotic event over about 2 pages, Okonkwo chops off the head of a messenger then he hangs himself, the end. Although Achebe did try to spark our interests the same old saying just jumps back into my head, "too little too late".  Then we see it in Joyce's The Dead, when again all that really happens is Gabriel thinking he's too good for everyone and Mr. Browne making a drunk fool of himself.  And then all of a sudden Gabriel learns of his wife's past lover who killed himself for her, the end.  Once again too little too late.  I hope you are all sensing a pattern in my writing using the same pattern and order for my analysis of these two stories.  Gets a little annoying don't you think?

Just when I thought I had gotten away from the monotony, I read Snow Country.  Probably the worst short story for patterns being repeated.  Komako getting drunk, going to  Shimamura's room and sleeping with him, sound familiar? This was basically the whole story I am sorry to say that I greatly disliked this story, nothing happened until the very end when a building set on fire killing Yoko.  Maybe there are some deeper meanings that I am supposed to decipher from these texts... but they were just so boring that I couldn't see past the words on the page.  I apologizing for ripping to shreds three of the last few stories we read but aren't blogs meant to voice opinions?


Yours in Frustration,
Hailey Browne

The Dead

Hello Fellow Bloggers,

Somewhat of an ironic title don't you think?  Well when first reading this short story by James Joyce,  I was quite confused as to why this was the title... was Aunt Kate going to drop down dead? Was Mr. Browne finally going to go mad and shoot everyone in the party? Nope.  This party just kept going on it its happy fashion with no deaths.

As the story went on and on about this Irish gathering I couldn't help but notice Mr. Browne pop up everywhere.  No, this was not because of his character per say but because he shares my last name :D

The short story was not my favourite though I felt that it really dragged on, going over the same situation over and over again but with different people.  I realllllly disliked Gabriel as a character he was snooty and just felt as if he was better than everyone. But what really pushed me over the edge was when he was in lust for his wife.  Sure it was nice that he was complimenting her saying how good she looked in his head but he was really objectifying her and when he said, "[h]e longed to cry to her from his soul, to crush her body against his, to overmaster her" (1970), that just made me think he was a pathetic typical guy who feels he is above everything, especially women.

The only turn of this short story was when Gretta told Gabriel about her old dead boyfriend.  I thought this was a nice slap in the face for him to finally get a grip on himself and realize he wasn't the master of all.


Yours in writing,
Hailey Browne

Oh the Joy of Essays

Hello Fellow Bloggers,

In World Classics I expected a lot more essays to be written.   I was pleasantly surprised to find out we only had to complete two (Thank you Dr. Reed)!  In writing 2 essay's I feel like I put more effort into each one spending time crafting it into my very own masterpiece.

Although, I found the first essay to be very insightful to research this one was all the more pleasing.  I research tons of websites and even used a REAL PRINTED BOOK!

I enjoyed the fact that we had to pick a theme that drove the author in their writing.  This was especially challenging with the poem I chose to dissect..."The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S Eliot.  This was a challenge I brought onto myself for no other reason than to say I could.

I spun his words and morphed them into my own meaning as there is really no other way to do it.  I researched his background to see if that had any clue to the hidden meaning behind lines such as, "The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes"(16).  WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN! Well after careful research I figured out that the yellow smoke Eliot talks about is actually the smoke that comes from the pollution from power plants near his home in St. Louis, Missouri.

Figuring out little tidbits like mentioned above are great epiphany moments that left me satisfied for the rest of the night :)

I hope all of you had as fruitful as an experience as I did trying on different lenses and figuring out themes in your poems or short stories!


Yours in writing,
Hailey Browne

Poetry, poetry, and more poetry

Hello Fellow Bloggers,

Well hopefully you have gathered from my title that in the post I will be talking about the very much anticipated poetry day!

At first I thought it was going to be people reading their favourite poems by their favourite poet, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear people read their own poems.  I myself have written quite a few poems, I went on a mad writing spree in grade 12 when it was a poetry unit and we were forced to write poetry for class.  The more and more I wrote the more therapeutic it became.  Soon I found myself scribbling emotions out on a piece of paper daily.  I grew out of this phase eventually, but I did enjoy very much just sitting down and letting my emotions out.

When we all discussed the deep nature of poetry, sort of a way of letting out frustration, sadness or other dark emotions I started to notice it more and more.  It is true one does write the best when they are angry just as one can voice their displeasure more easily than their pleasure.

Tonight I think I might sit down and write a poem again just for old times sake and release any emotions that I may have buried deep inside.

I challenge you all to do the same!

Yours in writing,
Hailey Browne

Squares and Angles?

Hello Fellow Bloggers,

Squares and Angles.  Storni.  Not being a huge fan of math I was wondering what a poem with that title could do for me, but as I started reading my doubts melted away.  The image that this short and simple poem puts into my mind is one that is intriguing yet relatable.

As the world becomes more and more "blended", men going out to work every day, women staying with the kids one would go crazy living in this circle.  This poem is trying to mock suburbia as more Americans are migrating to this world.  I really enjoy Storni's work as it challenges her reader to take a look at their lives and make them wonder if they are living as they hope.  She sheds light on the "norms" of society (mainly women's rights) and speaks of change towards a better and equal world.

"Squares and Angles" is a very nice puzzle that is easily put together by thinking. The gaps that Storni leaves for her readers to fill, allows them to think in a way to challenge change in the world.

Yours in Writing,
Hailey Browne

Oh the Wonders of Love

Hello Fellow Bloggers,

I'm not really sure if most people understand this about me.  Maybe its because I don't really appear as a softy or that I play hockey, who knows.  But I am a huge sucker for a romantic poem. I fell in love with Tagore's "No. 5" which I wrote about in my last post, but another poem that has tugged at my heart strings and stayed in my mind is Neruda's poem, "Tonight I can Write".

Now not all love poems have to be about the warm fuzzy feeling that people get when they are in love, it can also be the agonizing pain when that love is gone.  The tone throughout this poem is not extremely sad but you can sense the despair that Neruda feels.  This piece he is voicing his discontent of his lovers absence from his life and her lack of love for him.  He is unaware the feeling that he has for his lover and the feelings that she has for him in return.  He jumps back in forth between "I love her", "I don't love her", and "maybe I do love her".  It is a very chaotic feel which is exactly what happens when one is in love.

I really enjoy when poets write about humanly feelings as it is a great way to relate and connect to the poem.  Poems like this have a deeper impact, to me at least.  Although it is interesting and entertaining to decipher deeper meanings behind a more cryptic poem, having a nice straight forward poem that is about emotion and nothing more is a very nice balance.  I thoroughly enjoyed "Tonight I can Write" by Neruda.

Yours in Writing,
Hailey Browne