Favorite part from Golden Compass

One of my favorite parts of the Golden Compass is when Lyra is evesdropping in the complex at Bolvanger.  She is above the ceiling tiles and trying hard not to make any noise.  For some reason, this part just had me on the edge.  I felt like I was actually trying hard not to move, spreading my weight across the supports hoping they would hold.  Listening in on the conversation about Mrs. Coultier’s intentions, I can’t help but let out a gasp as they say that she wanted to see the children being cut away from their daemons.  I cringed as she was pulled through the fragile tiles.  approx. page 202.

IDEAS…

Ideas for my term paper

I’m not exactly sure what I should do for my term paper.  In class I mentioned that I was thinking about doing something with portals.  I’m not sure if this is what I’m going to write about.  If it is, I need to find a specific topic relating to portals in some way.

I’ve also been thinking about finding some example of portals in the human psyche.  What is the relationship between the the human psyche and portals in stories like Alice and OZ?

We’ll see what happens.

My Daemon

Well, I took a quiz to find out what form my daemon would be.  This is actually the second time I have taken this test.  The first time it was determined that my daemon would take the shape of a snow hare.  I liked that one.

This time however, I was given a Raven.  Hmm. .. I really don’t like ravens much.  nuts.  At least it can fly, that is pretty good.

Dream Logic From Alice

I started reading Through the Looking-Glass two days ago.   As I read, the words continually put me into a dream state – with dream logic.  In Garden of Live Flowers, the lines take me: “Just at this moment, somehow or other, they began to run.  Alice never could quite make out, in thinking it over afterwards, how it was that they began: all she remembers … ”

This struck me instantly.  I don’t know how many times my dreams have gone like that.  “somehow or other, they began to … ”  These lines are so ambiguously beautiful.  I have no doubt that in years to come, after having left many places, people and sights behind, I will look back in a moment of silent thought and use those exact words to explain vaults of years and shelves of time – somehow or other…

Or… Somehow or other I came to be ice skating on a balloon.  We rise higher and floated farther than I have ever been.  The pilot has abandoned ship, I know this but cannot see the empty basket below the envelope of hot air.  I am also quite aware of the torch-bearing mermaid being dragged along by a fishing line.  Is she in peril?  Or will she light up the whole thing?  I don’t know, I am at peace as we enter the clouds…

…Somehow or other…

A Dream of Mine – well sort of…

Every so often I suffer from sleep paralysis.  A quick explanation is this – Every time the body goes into its REM cycle it first paralyzes the body so that the dreamer does not act out the dream physically.  The eyes are the only things that are given license to move.  That is why the eyes twitch during a dream and the rest of the body is still.  Sleep paralysis occurs when the mind wakes up before it un-paralyzes the body.  More information on this can be found: Here. It is hard to describe what happens, but in my experience I am very aware of my surroundings.  I cannot move anything but my eyes and breathing is difficult or impossible.  Sometimes I hallucinate while paralyzed.  Here is one of those instances.

–

I am in high school and asleep in my bed downstairs.  The darkness of the predawn floods my room anticipating my 6:33 alarm.  I lay on my back in my heated waterbed dreaming diligently – when suddenly I awake.  I perceive my room.  It looks exactly as it did before my eyelids shut.  Immediately however, I feel the pressure.  My chest is heavy – as if someone where sitting on it.  My arms lay gently at my sides, my head facing up, my feet are barely touching.  I cannot move.  My eyes dart about hoping for a sign that I’m dreaming.

Before I get conformation, something catches my attention.  It is a horrid demon.  It is about the size of crafty animal – a fox, maybe a dog.  It is using small wings to fly around occupied with its devilish work.  The demon looks at me with an eye of fire and I know that it is Satan.  The beast continues flying around attending to cross-bows that are set up around my room.  They are all pointing precisely at my head.  I cannot see one bolt shaft, only the sharpened broadheads glistening at their’ ends.  I wrench hard against my cold shell, I beg God to set my body free.  My spirit collapses in defeat.  I am fixed, unmoving.  My soul is upset, it is overwhelmed by a strong since of wrong, of evil.  Satan has one eye on me and one on each weapon as he stretches the strings tight.  The traps are set.  The strands are taught.  I cannot decide which is worse, not being able to move, or not knowing when the arrows will be released.  They do not answer to me.  I feel no sense of God – only evil.  Satan is in control.  I tear, strain, and yank my body with my mind.  Not one movement, life is vulnerable.  A chill of terror clings to my bones.

This isn’t my first experience with sleep paralysis.  I know what to do, and what feels most natural is not it.  The more I attempt to contort my body the more I cannot move.  Here I go.  I look away from the flying beast and do the last thing that feels right.  I relax everything: muscles, tension, thoughts.  I focus solely on the command “wake up.”  I think of nothing else.  Starting softly I begin saying it louder and more forcefully – “wake up… Wake Up… WAKE UP!”

Fresh air slams into my lungs as I gasp, I sit up straight and rigid.  Everything is the same – the room, the lighting, my clock, and the time on it.  Satan is gone.  His traps are gone.  I try to catch my breath and notice that the evil is gone.  I am alone.  The absence of pure evil must be holiness. There is no dawn, only day and night.  My room is righteous, saintly.

–

Here is a painting by Alex Cannon That describes sleep paralysis perfectly.  This is a beautiful painting of a terrible thing.  Something one can only attempt to describe, through words or brush strokes.

By: Alex Cannon

Finishing Talbot…

Today I finished reading Talbot’s graphic novel, Alice in Sunderland.  It took me awhile to get into it actually, but by the end of it I felt like I had really come to the end of something.  A lot of times while reading books endings feel a bit forced.  However, Talbot’s ending was subtle.  After some reflection I felt like it was over.  It is hard to explain this, but I really liked how Talbot handled the information and fiction.  Of course it was later that I realized what a beautiful mix of history and fiction he had spun into his novel.

I also felt a strong sense of respect for his art.  I know how long graphic design takes and his graphic novel impressed my considerably.  The amount of detail and time strictly from the design standpoint is staggering.  Thank you Talbot for such a calming book.  I especially liked the section on the story that possibly inspired Jabberwocky – the Lambton Worm.

Six Degrees…

From ALICE to OZ

HHOKAY…  SO  – Lewis Carroll who wrote Alice in Wonderland lived in England, Robin Hood also lived in england.  In 1993 Mel Brooks directed a movie called Robin Hood: Men in Tights, Brooks is from Brooklyn NY, and what do you know L Frank Baum was born in NY also.  WOW!!

connections – connections, of course it is no coincidence.  There is no coincidence.

here are some kangaroos in a bag:

kangaroos.

Alice Pictures

Of course, the Tennial illustrations of Alice are by far the most captivating and fitting.  I have found hardly any decent renditions of Alice either photographically or through illustration.  However, I came across a set of photos shot by Annie Leibovitz.  I believe these were for an issue of Vogue Magazine.  Anyway, I thought that these were pretty good and I can’t stop looking at the model’s expressions.  She captures the mood quite impressively.

Go HERE:  http://www.style.com/vogue/feature/120103/popup/slideshow1.html to find all of the pictures

from http://www.style.com

Alice is Annoying and Should Take a Children’s Lit Class…

… because then she would know not to use misplaced concreteness.

While reading the seventh chapter of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, I was annoyed by Alice.  Her questioning of the Dormouse bothered me.  However, this is a very important part of the story.  This scene drips with irony because of Alice’s story.  If she would have thought about her own adventures for a second then it would not have seemed strange in the least that three sisters were in the bottom of a treacle well.

This over exaggeration possibly suggests that in our own daily lives, our misplaced concreteness is quite as absurd as Alice’s.  We are conditioned to a definition of normalcy – blind to the similarities between what we view as “absurd” and “normal” life.  This suggestion is profound.

To someone who may be reading our life stories, even the slightest of our misplaced concreteness, may seem as ridiculous as Alice’s at the Mad Tea-Party.

My Book and Heart Shall Never Part

by: Luke Chueh

One topic that emerged from the film that I find interesting is that of children’s literature stemming from adult nostalgia.  Speaking of nostalgia – check out this monkey!

This brings up interesting historical questions concerning the concept of “childhood” prior to children’s literature.  Also, how does this then affect all subsequent notions of childhood and children’s literature.  As discussed in the work Poetics of Children’s Literature by Zohar Shavit, which can be found HERE, the notion of childhood had to be constructed before children’s literature could be developed.

I find this interesting because nostalgia cannot only apply to children’s lit. How many other forms of literature are influenced by adult nostalgia?

Other than this, I liked the film. However, I was constantly annoyed when an interesting topic, which we have addressed in class, was brought up and quickly and then passed over. Of course this is sometimes necessary when addressing any amount of information or ideas. As mentioned in class, I did feel over prepared to watch this film. It was good as introductory material however.