Poem: the dirty sheets of paper

the covers are like a torn up book
that shrug themselves over
a little girl’s shoulders
as her mind flips the pages
of corridors flooded
with jagged darkness and slopes,
she elopes with the enemy
but her father brings the love affair
swiftly to an end.
she has no friends
she slips away from the margins
charging like a haunted stallion
to the sheer
peering over
as the majesty dribbles pebbles down her front.
enter
enter
the next chapter

she slices her words clean
the sheets which she envelops herself in at night
hold too much emptiness between.

– cumuloq ❤

What I Read and Why I Read

Previously I wrote the post “What I Write and Why I Write” – I thought it was about time that I wrote the companion post to it, “What I Read and Why I Read”. It kind of helps that one of my recent class assignments was to write about this. Below is the modified version of it – I have taken none of the substance away, just beefed it up in certain areas.

I was always a library camper, whether it be in my school or communal libraries. From the age of seven I knew how to reserve books, how to borrow wisely till the maximum amount I’m allowed to carry back home in my heavy library canvass bag, and how to read the shelves and find my favourite authors and genres.

theliterarygiftcompany.com

theliterarygiftcompany.com

theliterarygiftcompany.com

If there was one crime I ever actually committed when I was a kid, it was accidentally stealing a library book from my school – I vaguely remember it being about Santa Claus. I devoured books by Mem Fox, Libby Gleeson, Enid Blyton such as The Magic Faraway Tree and Jacqueline Wilson’s Double Act. My school in Australia had a subscription to Scholastics and I bought books every month – much to the frustration of my parents.

A few years later on I’d giggle at the trivial hilarity of The Bugalugs Bum Thief and Captain Underpants, and delved into classics such as Jack London’s The Call of the Wild and Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. (I got the exact covers of the books I actually read below.)

When I was eleven in Perth, Australia, my teacher, Mrs Daventry, introduced my class to a life-changing novel called Alanna: The First Adventure written by Tamora Pierce. The character, Alanna, was probably my first proper fantasy heroine.

Prior to being exposed to the genre of fantasy, I mostly entertained myself with Jeanne Betancourt’s Pony Pals and Francine Pascal’s Sweet Valley High. Mrs Daventry one day caught me in class reading the latter and I remember specifically that she called it “junk food”. She then proceeded to tell me of a book store in our neighbourhood where I could get discounts for good books. Learning from her was such a joy. With every book we read, we learnt about the history behind them, the vocabulary that surrounded them and the characteristics we aspired towards.

When the doors of the fantasy genre gaped wide open I never looked back. I devoured the genre, reading series after series by authors such as J.K. Rowling, Lemony Snicket, Gail Carson Levine, Philip Pullman, Garth Nix, Libba Bray, James Patterson and Dianna Wynne Jones. For me reading was very much escapist in nature. Coupled with sketching and writing, my twelve-year-old self created worlds that were imitations of the characters, plots and settings I read. The fantasy worlds shaped much of how I saw the world when I was young, filled with magical potential and gateways to alternative realms. That’s why I identify so closely to the narrator of Gaiman’s novel:

“I went away in my head, into a book. That was where I went whenever real life was too hard or too inflexible.” – Unknown Narrator, The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

My purpose for reading altered when my parents made the decision that we would move to another country. There, I admit books were my shields to the curious eyes of my new, strange classmates. For a decent year, because of my introverted disposition, my confidantes at the time were mostly the characters in the novels I read and the stories I created.

In my new school I was introduced to more canonical works, such as that of Shakespeare. There we tackled Twelfth Night, Macbeth and Merchant of Venice. Other novels included Jules Verne’s Around the World in Eighty Days (which I memorised more than understood) and Robert Louis Stevensons’ Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (which I found fascinating till this day). It was also during that time that I got enraptured by culturally-stemmed beliefs – spiritual myths of seances and ghost visitations. A lot of the books I read during that time were dark – but not necessarily scary. Like how a child may be more fascinated than terrified of Coraline, I was more fascinated than terrified of the world beyond the grave.

It was when I moved country once more and underwent a tertiary education that my reading for pleasure habit slowly dwindled. There I was introduced to some of my favourite novels such as Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. But it was also where I learned to grapple with R.K. Narayan’s The Guide – a book which, till this day, still reduces me to coughing up bile.

It was also during this period where literature transformed into something I loved to something which I no longer understood. I was forced to wrangle with poetry in a void. I was mostly silent in class, petrified to give the “wrong answer”. Reading for pleasure was bulldozed away and in its place was planted desperations of not failing, and not being alone.

And maybe my saving grace was giving literature a second chance and choosing it as my degree. During my four years in uni, I could once again engage with and discover newfound love in other literary genres. It was in uni that I fell in love with novels such as Ian McEwan’s Atonement, Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher, Toni Morrison’s Beloved, Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler, and Jean Rhys’ Good Morning, Midnight.

My main interests during that time lay in (post- and) modernism, feminism and Gothic literature. I decided to combine two of them for my FYP and wrote about representations of the living dead in women – It was also an excuse for me to analyse Resident Evil.

However, I can’t quite say that during those four years I read for pleasure. My reading during that time was limited to the reading lists of the courses I took. So the final stage of my reading journey thus far was during my eight months of contract teaching. Thanks to this blog (and also from creating an account on Goodreads.com), I managed to finally read for pleasure and read whatever I wanted to – the way I did when I was eleven.

I first of all started with the Young Adult fiction that I missed out on during my uni days, i.e. Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy. This was followed by Veronica Roth’s Divergent trilogy, John Green books, i.e. The Fault in Our Stars, Looking For Alaska, and Paper Towns, Stephen Chbosky’s Perks of Being a Wallflower, Jay Asher’s Thirteen Reasons Why, James Dashner’s The Maze Runner trilogy and Lois Lowry’s The Giver.

Of course, I didn’t spend all my reading time catching up with YA. I also delved in Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? and Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane and Neverwhere. It was safe to say that during those eight months I read and completed more books in my spare time than during the six years within the rigid education system of my new homeland.

At the end of the day, reading for me has always been a means for me to understand and see different perspectives to the world. It was a means to make sense of things that no longer made sense. The covers were my shields, the characters: my friends, the enemies: a representation of the challenges I should be tackling. At the end of the day I would not be the person I am without books. It’s a shame that reading today is less than it was – less time for books, less words in books, more competition for attention among the million other attention-grabbing devices out there in this world.

I offer anyone who is willing to share their reading journey to send me a link to theirs in the comment section below! Let us all preserve the pastime and love of reading together!

Till next time!

cumuloq ❤

 

Disclaimer: The book covers featured are not mine and belong to their respective owners. I take no credit for any of the photos featured in this blog post.

Hobbies Are Not Loved When Overworked

All credits go to renatadomagalska (DA)

When I first stepped out of university and began my journey to find a job that I hoped I would eventually love, I came across this quote,

Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life. – Confucius

and I immediately subscribed to its notion. It’s appealing in the sense that at the end of the day, when it comes to finding a job, I sincerely did hope that I would end up doing something that I would not perceive as work at all.

I considered writing articles for magazines and newspapers – that it would be amazing writing for a living because that is what I love to do. I imagined being like Rebecca Bloomwood of Kinsella’s Shopaholic novels: pursuing to eventually write whatever I wanted to, having my own column. And if I could not do that, then I considered editing writing – ’cause at least I get to read what I love and editing is second nature to me – right?

At first I thought the problem lay in what jobs were available, I found a job that was exactly the position I wanted: an editor. But I realised that it was nothing according to what I loved. If I took on the job, I would have to edit policy documents and community brochures for a living – a less than appealing task. And then I considered – if I ended up taking an editing post, will there always come a time that I will love what I am editing? The short and straightforward answer was: no.

That was when I decided to go into teaching. And where I was disappointed once more when I was given the honest truth by teachers in my beginning school: Even though I was appointed Literature as my first subject, there was a high possibility that I won’t be able to teach it because of the demand for English teachers. The even more honest truth? Literature teachers were even made to fill in other roles as Moral Education teachers.

This upset me – because at the time I considered the quote and realised that teaching what I loved most may not be a possibility. And because of this I appealed to have my subject changed – with literature being my second subject.

It was not until two days ago that I came to the conclusion that it was not the jobs available to me that was problematic (although I did have very little motivation to pursue them), but the mindset that a job that is worth doing has to be something that you’re incredibly passionate about – in my case it was reading and writing books, it was about literary analysis.

Sitting in my class, learning how to teach literature (and I hoped desperately that those were the lessons I’d end up loving during my week), it dawned on me the ridiculousness of the situation I was in. Here I sat, with men and women in there mid-twenties, some in their early thirties making career switches, clinically analysing a poem for its lines, stanzas and repetitions. I had “Vietnam-esque” flashbacks to my junior college education where the life of a poem was sucked out from the pages of their handouts. I listened, with a bowed head, as two strong-headed individuals in my class began quarrelling over imagery – ruining the intentions and beauty of the poem. I cringed as the professor guided us towards a singularity point where there was (oh my heart), to her belief, a “right way” of interpreting the poem. And I asked myself, sitting there, “Is this what I love about poetry and is this essentially what I will encourage students to do in the future?”

And suddenly I was grateful – absolutely and eternally grateful – that I had not chosen something I loved and turned it into a job.

I realised that I had very different views of how literature should be appreciated, that I loved poems and prose, but only as they are, not prodded to submission with a stick at its protruding bits and pieces. I loved feeling involved in a plot, in a character and to empathise without being overcritical of the language involved. And I realised that if I had to do this as a living, to constantly be emerged in the things I loved and then analyse them completely, I would no longer love them.

Lastly, I guess this post comes with a disclaimer. I do not believe Confucius was wrong in what he said. I only believe that my initial interpretation of the quote was wrong. And I only hope that I can provide some of my own insight to those who believe it now the same way I did back then or still believe this to be true.

I will never discourage anyone from pursuing a job they believe they will love. I just hope that you do not turn something that you love, a hobby or pastime, into work that you can no longer love. They are hobbies for a reason – they are meant to be respite from work. The inevitability is that when you take something you love and turn it into work, there will be days when it is no longer something you love and just a job that brings food to your table.

For more of a straightforward reason why this quote can be misleading, I suggest the Forbes article by Chrissy Scivicque.

– cumuloq ❤

Poem: of plagiarized sentiments

i walk the hallway with its rainbow of lights
we can’t last forever,
watching them –
it’s a foolish practice –
i find a small smile to give
i begin to find evidence of human habitation
i fade away from the crowd
watching the humans disappear
watching them dissolve
a soft static hum
i fear your faith has been misplaced
it was somehow beautiful and creepy, all at once
all its secrets
and all its foolish casual cruelty
it was self-defence
the mere word was anathema

Hey guys! So the above poem is a rough amalgamation of various lines found from fourteen different books. Some of them have been adapted to fit the poem’s atmosphere, but for the most part they all have been “plagiarized”. My intention in doing this … well, you can infer yourself, but there is an intention to it. It’s not that I just felt “crap I don’t really feel like writing a poem so I’ll just put a bunch of lines together” (or is it? No, no it wasn’t.) It took me a while to find the perfect lines, especially in the books that weren’t altogether poetic.

– cumuloq ❤

Poem: the library is a tardis

Source: bookriot.com

in this quiet place
the books whisper to me
the arms of ikea furniture
hug my shoulders
and i sink into the ocean of words
dying is easy
among the tombs of the long lost
pens and ink that escaped
the clutches of death
the scientists are wrong
the writers are wrong
we are time-travellers
we time travelled centuries ago
there were no worm holes
there were always other universes
and the gatekeeper
of past and present
is the librarian.

– cumuloq ❤

Poem: a minute of silence

for Oliver, 25.05.2014

“Almost everyone is obsessed with leaving a mark upon the world. Bequeathing a legacy. Outlasting death. We all want to be remembered. I do, too. That’s what bothers me most, is being another 
unremembered casualty in the ancient and inglorious war against disease.” 
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

a minute of silence please
/of the blood or bone marrow/
blood transfusions on monday
/immature white cells/
tests on tuesday
/a treatable disease/
wheelchairs up the elevator
/treatments involve chemotherapy/
and steel-like determination
/the rate of cure depends/

a minute
/the age of the patient/
as they slip away to the steps
/children are more likely/
blushed noses and swollen eyes
/to be permanently cured/
ring a round in circles
/a complete cure is unlikely/
standing to the side
/successfully treated for years/
a phone pressed to the ear
/can affect people at any age/
“mum, he’s gone”
/means white blood/
“i’m scared. i can’t believe it.”
(they’re probably bringing in the counselor)

silence
exposed necks and pressed hands
/a lack of blood platelets/
close
/fighting pathogens/
(i did not know him)
/pinprick bleeds/
this sentiment
/unable to fight off/
a crowd gathered
/a simple infection/
he played the guitar
/some patients experience nausea/
he learnt from youtube videos
/or a feeling of fullness/
he only ever said “okay, everything’s okay” – that fighter

silence
/no single known cause/
it was leukemia
/symptoms vague and unspecific/
it was a teacher walking out
/one fifth not yet diagnosed/
unable to control the shakes
/200,000 die every year/
from the crease in her lips to her wavering shoulders
/and romanticised/
she breaks down

a minute of silence
with a heavy heart
“he left us at ten
last night”

Poem: Generated Words Experiment

So for today’s Inklings I thought I would try to experiment with something and generate ten random words from this random word generator and then try to incorporate it in a poem in the order they appear. I’m doing this while waiting for my Sims University update to finish – or more like start. (Why is it taking so long?)

Okay, so here goes. These are the words I generated:

eminent, quickest, fragile, wealthy, rampant, cattle, order, swing, war, invent

You would think that war or cattle is the biggest challenge here, but I think quickest and eminent are the least desirable words. I’ll be using etymonline as per usual to help me through this process.

—————————————-

eminent. a sky hung low
dusting the trees
the quickest buzzard etches
the sky scraped pines
the fragile paper people cut
the perforated lines

wealthy. it drizzles
the late afternoon dew
the commuting fodder escape
the rampant corporate cattle
and in their homes
they ruminate their delivery order

swing. a thunderclap
a cursory umbrella wages war
the pelts proceed to answer
the cowering paper people
folded down for the night

oh, this battle they invent against the world.

—————————————-

Poem done! I actually like how this turned out. I don’t usually write about urban landscapes. A poetry project I did once did have a prelude poem that had this similar atmosphere and tone, but the rest of it was more personal, dark and domesticated. I should experiment with this type of emotion more often.

Oh, and take a look at this, not even close to done:

Are they trying to upload all the universities in the world or what?

Anyway, while I rage over this downloading speed for my game, I’ll end this post here.

Till next time!

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 29: A book everyone hated but you liked

Hi everyone!

So, this is the penultimate day of the 30DBC, if you have been reading all – or heck, most – of my posts for this challenge so far, I thank you for following along. Even more so if you’ve also been following Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog.

Today’s challenge is on the book I liked that everyone else hated. Personally, I don’t think this scenario exists. Unless you did like Twilight. Otherwise, it’s pretty much impossible for everyone to hate a certain book. There will always be the classic book camp and there will always be the teen novel camp, and those in between, and one may hate the other but mutual hate does not really exist. And if it did, there is a strong likelihood that I hated that book to, so that’s pretty much a moot point.

So the closest situation I could think of in which there was a text I liked but everyone seemed to hate is …

Self Reliance and Other Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Okay, so let me begin with my story: It was the first year in uni and we had to read Emerson’s essays early in the semester for one week for my American Literature course. And, like the diligent student I am, I read them, specifically “Self-Reliance”, “Circles” (by accident, even though it wasn’t on the reading list but it was so good), “The Poet” and “History”, and I just remembered being sent into a transcendentalist journey.

The essays are like 19th century self-help or self-exploration articles. They spoke of living in the moment, being satisified with the person you are and to not be over-involved in the concerns of society but instead to be appreciative of what is around you.

And then I had to go for the lecture that week to discuss it, and I was so excited to discuss the philosophy behind it – and, to my utter astonishment, it seemed like everyone there just absolutely hated it.

They could not read past half a page, they did not understand anything Emerson was saying, they did not like the fact that there really was a clear argument to his essays (although that is not what essays are always about!) or they just did not like transcendentalism as a whole. And I could not understand it – who could not agree with what Emerson says? Even in the most superficial sense of his words?

Man is timid and apologetic; he is no longer upright; he dares not say “I think,” “I am,” but quotes some saint or sage. He is ashamed before the blade of grass or the blowing rose. These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time to them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more; in the leafless root there is no less. Its nature is satisfied, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time.” 
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance and Other Essays

To me, there are so many passages quotable from Emerson’s essays and so many concepts to reflect upon. But, I can, to some extent, understand their qualms with his writing. Emerson does not write in the most direct manner – sometimes you lose the point in his speech – you forget what exactly he is trying to say, he crafts sentences in squiggles rather than straight lines.

But isn’t that the point of it? It’s to not to be concerned with what has passed or what is in the future, but to live in the words themselves.

I would recommend anyone to try reading one of Emerson’s essays (Here, let me provide a link) – sit down in a comfortable place, preferably near a window that looks out at some greenery, and with a nice warm cup of coffee and tea, and just read. They aren’t long, and they don’t take long to read (they take longer to think about), and they are a goldmine of beautiful quotes and reflections.

So, I’ll catch you guys tomorrow for the finale – the last challenge of the 30 Day Book Challenge.

Till next time!

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 28: Favorite title

Hi guys!

It’s becoming all too real now, that this 30 Day Book Challenge is almost over. And today I’m covering my favourite title, which is …

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

I took this challenge as my ideal title for a novel, a title that just summarises everything perfectly, a title that just resonates, a title you cannot forget. I have to say that from the first time I heard of the title, The Bell Jar, I fell in love with it. It intrigued me. And yes, they say that you should not judge a book by its cover, and that includes its title, but I would be lying if I said I do not go into the bookstores and scan the shelves, and stroke the spines of books for wonderful titles. The more mystique it holds, the more it just captivates me. And The Bell Jar did just that.

“What is a bell jar? And what does the story have to do with one?”

And then, in one of my uni courses, I had the absolute pleasure to finally read it, and find out …

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.” 

and

because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.” 

and, lastly,

But I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure at all. How did I know that someday―at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere―the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?” 

Firstly, a bell jar is exactly how you would imagine it to be, an upside down jar, shaped like a bell that creates a vacuum effect. It preserves whatever is in it; anything within remains trapped in time and space, separated from the outside world. And this image is perfect for the protagonist, Esther Greenwood, who suffers from clinical depression.

She feels absolutely confined in this metaphorical bell jar, stuck within her own head. Every day to her is one of stagnant, stale thoughts, with no escape.

I love the metaphor because it shows how you can still be stuck in your head yet others can barely see it – you can still look at society (although through somewhat distorted images), and they can still see you. There is nothing apart there that is hindering an individual from being a member of society. Yet at the same time you know you will never be a part of them, you will never feel like them, and they, in turn, knowing your condition, will see you as something fragile and something that will not be a part of them.

Hence, the title is perfect – it reflects someone trapped. It calls to those who feel trapped in a pocket within society – which is obviously any individual. ‘Cause I know I definitely feel that I will never feel like everyone else in society. I, by no means, have the same aspirations and wants as everyone else in society. But then, doesn’t everyone share the same sentiments? Yet at the same time, aren’t we all reluctant to voice this out? Then, aren’t we all sort of living separate bubbles of lives with distorted thoughts of one another? It’s just so compelling to think of the world like this.

Even more so, it’s compelling to think that, since we were born, we are able to think an infinite number of thoughts yet in a finite way – in our way. And the same thoughts that strike us the most keep swimming in our head. And if we are never inspired by anything, then these same thoughts will continue to dangerously float in our heads. And we sit there, among our thoughts, ruminating, as they stifle us like tiny droplets of humidity that cling on the inner surface of the bell jar.

And – I think after those two paragraphs – it is evident that the title, The Bell Jar, is able to manifest so many different images in one’s mind. And this is the reason why it is one of my favourite titles. It is one subtle metaphor, but it is a powerful one. I think Sylvia Plath would have been proud to have grown mushrooms (referencing a Plath poem here: “Perfectly voiceless, / Widen the crannies”, and not drugs) in my mind.

So, for more wonderful titles, go take a look at Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog. And I’ll catch you tomorrow for the penultimate challenge.

Till next time!

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 27: The most surprising plot twist or ending

Hi guys!

So here’s another 30 Day Book Challenge. Today I’ll be looking at a book I’ve read with the most surprising plot twist or ending. Actually I’m thankful to have read a few books with incredible plot twist endings. I’m thankful because I’ve decided to turn this into more of a category list instead of a description of one book’s plot twist. I thought this would be best because I really don’t want to divulge the plot twist of these books. I’d rather not write down spoilers. Instead, I’d rather list down these books, hint at the plot twist and have you guys read them yourselves and get absolutely blown away by them.

So, here are the books …

1. Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

Yes, I mentioned this book again but honestly this novel has the #1 plot twist! I did not expect to see it coming and, unlike some novels where the ending is a stretch, this one just fits in so well. Palahniuk should write detective novels. The beauty of this plot twist, after knowing it, changes the entire story – and not just for the events after, it changes everything you’ve read from the first page onwards. And isn’t that something remarkable? When you can literally never read this book the same way you did the first time you did. Yes, that is the magnitude of the Fight Club plot twist. You remember it for the rest of your life.

2. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K. Rowling

Honestly, when reading this plot twist when I was a child, I thought J.K. Rowling was a genius – and I felt like an absolute dingbat – and a judgemental idiot. I feel like I can reveal this spoiler because so many people have either read or watched this, but then again, I’ll just keep it as a known secret between me and you, the reader who has read it. I know there are many plot twists that appear after this novel – but honestly, this was the first one that had me stunned. And the one I shall mention now.

3. Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

Yes, another book I’ve already mentioned – actually in the book that disappointed me challenge. But, regardless of whether it disappointed me or not (only cause I expected it to be better than the movie), you can’t deny that the ending is a shocker and has so many implications to it. The fact that the General pulled a fast one on both Ender and the readers is worth the read. And I heard that the follow-up book had another plot twist in it as well worth reading.

4. Atonement by Ian McEwan

The ending to Atonement is heart-wrenching – and the novel’s ending and the movie’s ending are different, and they are equally heart-wrenching plot twists. At one point in time Atonement was my favourite novel. The plot twist at the end was part of the reason why. The movie’s gorgeous soundtrack is part of the reason why too.

So those are my top four favourite plot twist novels. I would recommend anyone read these novels just for their amazing endings. Please go check out Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog as well for more books with plot twist endings!

Till next time!

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 26: A book that changed your opinion about something

Hello everyone!

And thank you for following me as I complete the last few days of this 30 Day Book Challenge with my fellow blogger, Rhey of Sunshine. Today’s challenge is all about the book that has changed my opinion of something.

What I want to first express is how I am incredibly thankful of the course I decided to pursue for college. Many people may censure Literature as a major with few prospects. But the truth is that when I took up the course I wasn’t concerned with what occupation it would get me in society.

Probably, just like a literature student, my mindset was more of how “it’s all about the journey, not the destination”. And I believe one of the most crucial journeys I went on during my uni days was an exploration of how to view the world in a new way through a multitude of texts.

If there was any text that challenged my viewpoint on a subject, it would have to be …

The Passion of New Eve by Angela Carter

It is the story of Evelyn, a young Englishman, and it is set in dystopian United States where civil war has broken out between different political, racial and gendered groups.

This dark satire takes the reader along a journey through the mythology of sexuality and questions the primitive notions of gender. 

It is a story of how Evelyn is transformed into a woman, Eve, by an all-women’s society in the desert, and, along with this transformation, he learns the constructed ideals that entail his new gender. To prepare him for the sex change, they have him watch videos on mothering and women’s fashion.

The story also introduces the ancient Tristessa, a famous movie star with a haunting secret. She is the crush of Evelyn since he was a little boy. And she is the walking embodiment of everything false with normative genders.

I believe that if I had not been studying feminism at that point in time, this book would have been a horrific and demanding read. The text as a whole is difficult to swallow because of the stark sexual imagery present (I believe this is made evident from its provocative cover) – which is partially why it made such an impact on me to begin with. This book is hard to forget.

If one were to just read this book without any context to it, I would believe it is easy to feel offended by it. Everything in this book is a suggestive (or very obvious) sin. But if you look beyond the sinful actions of the characters within this novel, the undeniable question is: Why are we offended? And the answer is probably because we have been taught to be.

Proposition one: time is a man, space is a woman.” 
― Angela Carter, The Passion of New Eve

If there is one thing this novel achieves, it is to persuade the reader to absolutely destroy their preconceived semantics of what a woman and man should be, and why these boundaries are so integral for us to function in society. This is alluded by completely extracting the protagonist from the urban landscape to the desert – a landscape that is ironically a plethora of metaphors for the necessities to remove all remnants of symbolism, signification, implication and, yes, metaphor.

Carter ultimately attempts to disconcert the reader thoroughly. What you know of what makes up a man and a woman is no more than what your parents, your teachers and even you yourself has been ascribing to.

And here I move on to the scene that is as equally sinful as it is thought-provoking. After Evelyn is transformed into a woman, upon which he is enslaved by a man named Zero and his seven slave/wives, he meets Tristessa, a movie star he had been admiring for her sensual features, in a glass palace. Zero discovers, by trying to expose Tristessa’s private parts, that she is actually a man. Zero then forces both Eve and Tristessa to act out a mock-wedding after which he insists that they “consummate their marriage”.

It is here that Carter presents to the readers a unique and entirely singular scenario: Eve is a man in a female’s body, with now female genitalia, and Tristessa is a man in a woman’s body with male genitalia; Eve was once a man in society, he used to be in a position of illusionary power, but he has been recently stripped of any power. Meanwhile, Tristessa as a female movie star is objectified and sexualised, but the truth is that she is a man.

The Passion of New Eve blurs the lines between sex and gender differences and puts into contention the chicken-and-egg question, which came first? Is our perceptions of what makes us men and women determined by our sex, or is it growing up with these gender stereotypes that we then force these ideals on the sex?

Growing up, I always assumed that there was a clear logic that the role of men and women in society was always determined by biology – this book made me question how much of our stereotypes can we attribute to our sex. And when can we stop blaming the way we see gender roles on our past generations, when can we start being more perceptive of how meaning originates, sometimes, from the most biased origins of culture and religion?

As a whole this novel made me more open-minded towards the idea of gender as something absolutely abstract – and here I quote Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire …

So, till next time!

cumuloq ❤

Poem: sitting and waiting

At first I considered that this was just going to be me adding another post to my “Inklings” collection. But then I edited it a bit, and then I found an image that fit quite well, the one of Hazel and Augustus on the swing set. And it kind of got out of hand, and in the end it ended up to be not about just me sitting in front of my computer wasting time that would be better spent sleeping but about how time in general moves faster than we sometimes can even comprehend, how sitting in one spot can be us in one place at one time – but to another person, it can be a second’s worth of wild exhilaration, or a week’s worth of agonising pain, that although we quantify time, the time we spend in a second or minutes is essentially quantified by how we choose to spend it.

————————————————-

quietly / you sit and wait
you sit / and wait
and ponder /
“so many times / my life has just been this /
this hovering in the hallway
till half / my life
has been just this /
this frozen in space / not time /

these hours / that past
(for what purpose?)
the strange faces / the strict posture
the faces / of a thousand clocks /
ticking past and
the hours /
pass

for what purpose /
i could spend / these hours better
saved / like nickels in a mason jar
to accumulate
in my interests /
these wasteful / seconds except perhaps

those moments of necessary stillness /
the loitering of the soul /
those seconds / spent while
sitting /
whiling /
away with you”

– cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 24: A book that you wish more people would’ve read

Hello dear readers!

It is Friday. And we’re on the last stretch of the 30DBC. For today’s challenge I really took a long time to think about this.

Honestly, I would recommend almost every book I mentioned as something you should read. People should read Fight Club and The Fault in Our Stars and The Lovely Bones and Good Morning, Midnight. You should spend Halloween reading Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Wieland; Le Dame Aux Camelias when you fall in love, and The Butcher’s Wife when you have a break-up; and Simon’s Cat and The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy when you’re taking a dump … Too much information?

If anything, I would wish that more people read. And usually I recommend to people the book I last read.

But, I thought about it, and if there was any book that I wish more people read – or consulted is …

A dictionary – or a thesaurus

Yes, I decided to go for sass today – but really, if there was any book I would give a person, especially the younger generation, it would be a dictionary (which does not include the word ‘selfie’ in it).

I wish more people perused a dictionary every now and then. I wish more people expanded their vocabulary, I wish people knew the definition of words before using them, and I wish that people just used the whole spectrum of the English language to its full-effect. ‘Cause not using those beautiful words is just a crime.

And I quote

“So avoid using the word ‘very’ because it’s lazy. A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. Don’t use very sad, use morose. Language was invented for one reason, boys – to woo women – and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. It also won’t do in your essays.” 
― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

I wish more people knew the difference between a noun, verb and adjective – and pronoun and article and adverb.

This also goes for people who write books as well. I wish there was a minimum number of times you can describe the grass as green and the sky as blue.

I prefer authors who spend more time describing a feeling than what article of clothing their character wears. I wish authors paid attention to the specifics. I wish more people spent time looking through a dictionary.

One of my favourite websites is etymonline.com. I use it all the time for poetry and for writing my scholarly essays. I love the semantic links in words. I wish more people explored them.

I wish they would appreciate the beauty of how, to define a word, you need to connect it to more words. You can define something with another word – which has its own definition. And that definition contains more words – and the cycle continues.

The dictionary is ultimately a maze of words upon words upon words of things that need to be defined and can only be defined by a set of words we assume others already know.

The dictionary is the very first ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’, as you navigate your way through its alphabetically-ordered pages.

So, I suggest, if you ever wanted to know the meaning of life – look for it in a dictionary.

And for more books that people should read, check out my partner-in-crime’s blog Rhey of Sunshine. Oh, and also, please go over to her blog and tell her “Get Well Soon” cause she’s been feeling sick lately!

Till next time,

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 23: A book you wanted to read for a long time but still haven’t

Hello readers!

So for today’s 30DBC I’ll be going over the books I have on my to-read list. I decided to include more than one book today, ’cause frankly I have a lot of books that I want to read. Also, I don’t think I can fill in an entire review on a book I haven’t read yet.

So here’s a list of 5 books I still want to read, but haven’t gotten to yet:

1. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

I watched the movie of this and I so want to read this book as well. It just sounds like a book I need in my read list. This novel is a comedy sci-fi.

The book begins with contractors arriving at Arthur Dent‘s house. They wish to demolish his house in order to build a bypass. Arthur’s best friend, Ford Prefect, arrives, warning him of the end of the world. The two head to a bar, where the locals question Ford’s knowledge of the Apocalypse. An alien race, known as Vogons, show up to demolish the planet, and Arthur and Ford manage to get on their ship.” – Wiki

After that Arthur is sent on a reluctant journey across the galaxy in an attempt to find a planet, Magrathea, known for selling luxury planets.

2. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

I have definitely been absolutely hooked on finding the perfect sci-fi book lately, and I feel like this book might be it. It has had great ratings and reviews so far so it sounds so promising – plus that title is amazing.

A final, apocalyptic, world war has killed millions, driving entire species into extinction and sending the majority of mankind off-planet. Those who remain, venerate all remaining examples of life, and owning an animal of your own is both a symbol of status and a necessity. For those who can’t afford an authentic animal, companies build incredibly realistic simulacrae: horses, birds, cats, sheep . . . even humans. – Goodreads

3. A Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire) by George R.R. Martin

I’ve only managed to watch three seasons of Game of Thrones and once I’ve taken such a long break from the series it feels like such a task to try and get back into it. So what’s my ultimate solution? Meh, just read the books instead – said no one but me in this kind of society. I’m thinking of whether to read it or listen to the audio books.

In the novel, recounting events from various points of view, Martin introduces the plot-lines of the noble houses of Westeros, the Wall, and the Targaryens.” – Wiki

4. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

If there is any book that I’ve wanted to read for a very long time, it’s this one. And this would have probably been the book I would have written about if I had to choose only one.

At the heart of Catch-22 resides the incomparable, malingering bombardier, Yossarian, a hero endlessly inventive in his schemes to save his skin from the horrible chances of war. His problem is Colonel Cathcart, who keeps raising the number of missions the men must fly to complete their service. Yet if Yossarian makes any attempts to excuse himself from the perilous missions that he is committed to flying, he is trapped by the Great Loyalty Oath Crusade, the bureaucratic rule from which the book takes its title: a man is considered insane if he willingly continues to fly dangerous combat missions, but if he makes the necessary formal request to be relieved of such missions, the very act of making the request proves that he is sane and therefore ineligible to be relieved.” – Goodreads

I’ve read a chapter of it during my school days, found it hilarious and thought-provoking, but I did not have enough time to read the rest. Till now, I keep having it at the back of my mind to read, but just never got to it. It was always just “Someday”.

5. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

I’ve heard so many amazing things about this book. I really want to catch this one someday.

Kurt Vonnegut’s absurdist classic Slaughterhouse-Five introduces us to Billy Pilgrim, a man who becomes unstuck in time after he is abducted by aliens from the planet Tralfamadore. In a plot-scrambling display of virtuosity, we follow Pilgrim simultaneously through all phases of his life, concentrating on his (and Vonnegut’s) shattering experience as an American prisoner of war who witnesses the firebombing of Dresden.” – Goodreads

Yes, it’s another sci-fi kind of book. It is also apparently quite similar to Catch-22 in the sense that it takes place around the Second World War and offers a “deeply funny plea against butchery in the service of authority”. 

To check out more books on a to-read list, visit Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog as we are conquering this 30 Day Book Challenge together, however take note that the most recent challenge of hers may not be out at the same time as mine due to our different working schedules and that she is also feeling sick lately. Also, let me know if you’ve read any of these books and if you would recommend them!

Catch you tomorrow!

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 19: Favorite book turned into a movie

Hi everyone!

It’s on to day 19 of the 30DBC! Today’s challenge had me pretty stumped cause I wasn’t too sure what the criteria was. Does it need to be a movie I have read the book of? Or just a movie that so happened to be adapted from a book? Did it have to be adapted faithfully? Or could I just choose She’s the Man, which was loosely adapted from Twelfth Night?

I decided to take it as a book I have read and a movie I have watched, and a (as near as you can get) adaption of the book.

So I decided to choose …

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

Chosen soundtrack piece: The Lovely Bones – 8M1

Murderers are not monsters, they’re men. And that’s the most frightening thing about them.” 
― Alice Sebold, The Lovely Bones

The story is told from the perspective of 14-year-old, Susie Salmon, a victim of rape and murder in a cornfield near her home. A majority of the story is told from after she dies, when her spirit is stuck at an in-between-state. In this state she is forced to observe how the people who knew her cope with her death. She is also stuck, watching her father’s unwavering determination to find the murderer and grapple with his loss.

I read this book when I was around 16 or 17 and I believe it was the first book I actually read with this kind of dark theme in it. I remembered finishing the book and going, “Wow – okay.”

I watched the movie adaptation of it a year or two after it actually came out. I hunkered down in front of my television on a rainy day and just watched it.

The movie version features Saoirse Ronan as little Susie Salmon. And featured Mark Wahlberg as Susie’s father and Rachel Weisz as her mother. It was directed by the brilliant Peter Jackson (of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit trilogies, and King Kong).

It had been some time between reading the book and watching the movie (maybe that’s a good thing), so I can’t quite say whether the two were identical – all I can say was that they both captured Susie’s death in the most gruesome manner and also captured her after-life as both a nail-biting struggle of helplessness …

and her final satisfaction and acceptance that she was just not there, in the world, anymore.

Jackson portrayed this through contrasting images of violence and gorgeous visuals (for the supposed “heaven” place which Susie travels between). The lighting was absolutely gorgeous for this movie. It was definitely a feast for the eyes and the emotions.

The one thing I loved about both the movie and book was that they made one question what made a person (the murderer) commit such crimes and yet appear so normal – I’m not so sure whether to reveal the murderer of Susie here (it actually becomes quite obvious pretty early in the story – actually it’s already revealed in the trailer) but I just don’t want to spoil anything about him here. All I can say is that he was brilliantly acted – possibly the best character in the entire movie. Absolutely terrifying.

It is through the victims of the murderer in which Susie realises the gravity of the situation, how she is part of a massive addiction a mad man has with little girls, and how, as readers and viewers alike, we realise the quiet crime which is rape and murder in the US. Girls who are suddenly gone, physically abused and then dismembered in a ditch, and who are never found by their families. Sometimes seeing photos of girls missing online – it reminds me of little Susie Salmon.

Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun; it cannot be contained.” 
― Alice Sebold, The Lovely Bones

To me, The Lovely Bones wasn’t exactly a story on how to cope with death – it was more of what just happens. It doesn’t tell you how you should move on exactly – it just tells you how people do finally come to accept that a person is (not essentially gone) but just accepted as just not physically there anymore. It is how these people cope with death that reveals their true nature: their kindness, their anguish, their fear of accepting the truth.

The most touching part of it for me was the relationship Susie had with her dad, how they used to make ships in a bottle and how he broke a whole lot of them when he realised she was gone. And how he analysed every one of the random photos his daughter took in the hopes of finding an answer as to why she died. How, even years after she died, he still wanted to find the murderer of her death. How it almost drove him insane.

At the end of the day, I believe this book and movie has a special place in my heart. I could have easily chosen any other adaptation. I could have chosen Harry Potter, I could have chosen Perks of Being a Wallflower (but I watched the movie before reading the book), and I could have chosen Fight Club and Ender’s Game (which I mentioned earlier). But I chose The Lovely Bones because I believe that both the book and the movie were winners and I cannot really claim one was really better than the other. They both tell the same story in different ways, and that’s why I chose it as my favourite, and most apt, book turned into a movie choice.

So, here’s a trailer for the curious:

 

And I will catch you tomorrow! But if you want to catch more wonderful books turned to movies, turn to Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog as we both conquer this 30 Day Book Challenge together. 🙂

Till next time,

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 18: A book that disappointed you

Happy weekend, guys!

So for today’s 30DBC, I’m going to go over a book that disappointed me. Said book is:

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

I first decided to endeavour reading this novel after watching the film with the same name.

It is set in future Earth where mankind’s existence is threatened by the presence of the Formics, otherwise known as “Buggers”, an ant-like alien species. So to prepare for the third invasion (as it has been dubbed), the International Fleet (IF) train children and seeks out possible trainees to lead an army. Ender is the third child in a society where families are under a strict two-child policy. His family specially requested to have Ender after their two children showed a lot of promise in Battle School – however their first child, Peter, turned out too violent, and their second child, Valentine, too empathic. Ender is supposedly the “baby bear” of the fairytale trope, a.k.a. “just right”.

The rest of the novel follows Ender as he is chosen to go through further training, through difficult tasks and games in Command School.

I was excited to read the novel after watching the book because there were so many interesting concepts that I hoped the book explored more of. Also, after watching an Ender’s Game spoilercast by RoosterTeeth, where they gushed about how much better the book apparently was, I thought that it was inevitable that I would read it.

At first, it seemed alright, there were more moments at the Battle School and I was excited to get into the mind of Ender – but after a couple of chapters I found myself disappointed. Maybe it was the expectation that was given from the film itself – they made it appear that Ender was a boy genius, but the way Scott Card wrote Ender was less remarkable. There was some attempt to be logical and reasoning, but it appeared to be a whole less impressive than I hoped it would be.

The rest of the book was therefore a letdown. The only moments I cherished the most and found the most intriguing was the forum speeches and new relationship that Peter and Valentine had on earth which was not in the movie itself.

Upon finishing the book, I had to come to a conclusion as to why I felt disappointed in the book – and I came to this conclusion.

Firstly, this was a book that was released in 1985, where the technology in the book must have seemed far more impressive back then but has (to some extent) come to fruition today. This includes the large communication network which Scott Card talks about on Earth and the forums present on this network which, today, has become the Internet. There was the moment when Ender hacked into the Commander School system and that is something very realisable today. Hence, first and foremost, reading about technology that was only a vision back then probably takes the glory out of the Ender’s Game universe.

Secondly, this book is probably targeted to a younger audience and, like many books when we read when we were younger, it would have definitely far more enrapturing when I was thirteen than now. The writing is good enough for a teenager but as an adult, there is a lot to lust after in terms of explanations of the universe that surrounds Ender’s Game.

Lastly, I watched it as a movie before I read it as a book. Personally, I loved the movie. I loved the soundtrack of the movie and the amazing special effects of it. They made the universe and Ender appear larger than life. This is a lot different from the book where Ender is still very much a child, he still has many vulnerable moments – however Ender in the film appeared like a boy who had everything sorted out – every minute, every action. I suppose I wished the movie took more scenes in, but in terms of cutting them out – they did remove the more complicated, dull stuff, like the dozens of rounds of anti-gravity war simulations versus other groups that I practically glazed over in the book.

It is for these, very reasonable, reasons why I was disappointed when I finally sat down and decided to read Ender’s Game. So, I’ll be impartial here.

It may not have been because the book was a failure – cause I definitely doubt that. It was just the circumstances in which I read it that made it less than spectacular to me.

Personally, I feel like the book is something completely lost to me. I’ve lost the perfect moment to read it, and therefore I feel I can never fully appreciate it the way it was at that time of first publication. Instead, I will just appreciate the film for what the book inevitably became. So if you like sci-fi books, I still suggest you try reading it – but maybe before watching the film.

So, last but not least, check out Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog to see the book that disappointed her. And I’ll catch you tomorrow for my favourite book turned into a movie – which could very well be Ender’s Game, ’cause Ender’s Game was a good book to movie adaptation (in my opinion, and because I did it the opposite way around, i.e. movie then book) – but I won’t do that to you readers, i.e. Ender’s Game two days in a row.

Till next time!

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 17: Favorite quote from your favorite book

So, for today’s 30DBC .. I will criticise the placement of this challenge on the list! Why?! Why would you put this in the middle – doesn’t this immediately spoil the very last day of the 30DBC, i.e. my favourite book? Maybe it was my fault for not editing it in the beginning … regardless, I am just going to put in the quote and not the book or who said it and leave it at that for today. So today’s post is going to be short.

If you want to, feel free to google where this quote comes from but hopefully you will leave it till day 30 of the 30DBC – leave some mystery.

“A river of words flowed between us.”

My second favourite from the (anonymous) book is this one:

“No one in the world gets what they want and that is beautiful.”

But I hope you will leave it at that, readers. Do check out Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog for her quote. I wonder if she will reveal her favourite book immediately. For me, I’m going to be a bit more mysterious and create some suspense.

Till next time,

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 16: Favorite female character

Hey there, readers!

For today’s 30DBC challenge, I will be covering my favourite female character.

Now, while it’s evident that I prefer my male characters as absolutely cynical as possible, when I look back at the female characters I have read, I always consider them – first – with nostalgia, then, with some level of veneration.

Firstly, I can attest that I have never admired the women in classics or early literature -it’s like trying to admire a housewife written by a man. How can you admire a woman who is either a saint or a sinner? So I immediately rejected those women as favourites. Shakespeare’s Juliet was spoilt and lacked resilience and rationality. I present to you this apt gif:

So, let’s move on, otherwise this post will be about how there are no decent characters written before the 18th century.

Hence, secondly, I personally find myself blessed to not have known that such “birdbrain women” existed until I began studying my literature course. Instead, my teachers, from early on, have always introduced me to individualistic women, women who strived to be altruistic and audacious. Women like Leslie Burke from Bridge to Terabithia (on the right) and Alanna of Trebond from The Song of the Lioness Quartet. It was then natural for me to pursue those women in the books I read later on, women like Violet Baudelaire from A Series of Unfortunate Events, Sabriel from Sabriel and Lyra Silvertongue from The Golden Compass.

However, I will disclaim that my literature studies did not introduce me to another sort of bravery in women which I admire (maybe even more). It is those women who do not physically rebel against societal boundaries, but those who struggle in the midst of it, despite many adversaries. Those who see the struggles of the marginalised and seek to find some sort of salvation amidst their pain.Women such as Sethe from Beloved (on the left), Esther Greenwood from The Bell Jar, Clarissa Dalloway from Mrs Dalloway and the formidable unknown protagonist of The Yellow Wallpaper. These women taught me that you do not need to wield a sword and a bow to be a BAMF – you can wield words and kindness and inner strength as well. Power comes from more than just physically action.

And it appears here that I have listed down more than one woman to whom I love dearly – and I guess, I have to admit, that this introduction played that sort of function. For, when it comes to female literature, my heart goes out to all the female characters who seek to have a voice in society and they were all deserving, in my view, of a means to express their anguish, their joy and their personal endeavours.

But, as for my favourite, I will have to choose a female character who will always have a place in my heart since I was a young,a woman who wields both a weapon and wisdom, one which I actually dressed up as for my school’s “Dress as a Book Character” Day – Time-Turner, wand, frizzy hair and all.

Hermione Jean Granger in The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling

Yes, I finally did it, I chose Harry Potter for one of my challenges – or more specifically, Hermione Granger. But after some deliberation I thought I would do myself serious injustice if I did not pick her today.

Hermione has a soft place in my heart because I honestly see myself as her sometimes, the same way that J.K. Rowling herself saw Hermione as a(n exaggerated) version of her eleven-year-old self.

Hermione is, first and foremost, a girl who did not fit in but desperately wanted to. She was muggle-born, and a know-it-all, which meant she faced prejudice from both sides of the fence. She was neither liked by the Slytherins nor Harry and his Gryffindor friends. She was an outsider from the very beginning. And I believe that is what first makes her special: she understood from the get-go what it was like to be not wanted nor appreciated. And, despite her snobbish persona in the beginning of The Philosopher’s Stone, as a reader, it was easy to empathise with that moment during Halloween when Harry and Ron discovered she would go to the bathrooms and cry because she had no friends.

Being unwanted in Hogwarts from the very beginning, shaped Hermione. If she had been loved by both sides of the fence, she could have easily turned out like Malfoy, or worse, Voldemort. Despite the scorn she got from others, she was still kind (in the best way she knew how to be), she still raised her hand in class to answer questions, and she continued to seek friendship in books. She was always in the pursuit of knowledge and the fact that she spent hours in the library made her love her even more.

Yet, at the same time, Hermione was a character who never purely sought out knowledge, otherwise she would have easily ended up in Ravenclaw. It was evident that Rowling intended for there to be much more to Hermione than someone who was an intellectual. And I believe it is this character development in Hermione which solidified her as one of my favourites.

She hated women who abused their power, like Rita Skeeter, Umbridge and Bellatrix Lestrange. And so she fashioned herself apart from them. She also saw the potential in those who were less appreciated and overlooked.

Harry rarely was the one to first befriend the secondary characters – it was usually Hermione who did so. She found friendship with Dobby, Ginny, Neville and Luna before Harry ever did. She was also the pioneer of many plans that sought to change the world for the better, such as SPEW and Dumbledore’s Army.

So, that is my Harry Potter rant over and done with. And, because this gives me the opportunity to share my favourite Harry Potter band, Ministry of Magic, here is one of their songs, Ascendio, that you can check out. 😀

And there you go, because I love her fantasyuniverse and the person she is in it, I chose Hermione as my favourite female character. So, head over to Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog to check out her favourite female character, and I will catch you guys tomorrow for my favourite quote from a book!

Till then,

cumuloq ❤

30DBC Day 15: Favorite male character

Hi everyone!

We’re at the halfway point of the 30DBC, and today I’ll be tackling my favourite male character. For today, it is actually very difficult for me to discuss this “favourite male character”, and if you realise who it is, then you’ll realise why. So don’t mind me as I render myself speechless at some points in this blog post. But, I’m sure (for those who have read Fight Club or watched the film) you will understand why …

The Narrator in Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

The Narrator of Fight Club remains nameless throughout the novel for many specific reasons, one of them I will not spoil here – I refuse to spoil here (even though a lot of other descriptions of the Narrator may decide to reveal why). Let’s just say that you will need to read the book to find out why.

One of the more straightforward, and effective, reasons why the Narrator is nameless is because he is a representative of all of us, the collective average, everyday working man. His voice is that of the average, his routine is that of the average and he carries with him the frank and bitter truth that we are all part of a capitalistic society.

So, with all this man’s negativity, why do I love him as a character?

There are many reasons why I love the society-and-self-deprecating man that is the Narrator. He is an insomniac, depressed, attends help groups with various aliases, befriends a complete psycho named Tyler Durden who forces him to push the boundaries of his boring life, and makes soap from the fat of rich, vain women and sells it back to them.

The Narrator hits rock bottom and then co-creates (with Tyler Durden) the infamous (you did not hear it from me) Fight Club and then, the larger-scale Project Mayhem (which takes very literally the phrase: “watching the world burn”).

But – between all these crazy events, the reason why I love the Narrator is, first and foremost, his dry humor – one that cuts through all the poetics of literature, the illusions of day-to-day life and just punches the reader in the face, like a well-intentioned insult – like the true meaning of Fight Club. Many times I found myself laughing for the wrong reasons while reading Fight Club.

You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis. You are all singing, all dancing crap of the world.”

Simultaneously, while appreciating the humor, I love how The Narrator speaks a truth which society is all familiar with but never consciously aware of.

You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life. Buy the sofa, then for a couple years you’re satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you’ve got your sofa issue handled. Then the right set of dishes. Then the perfect bed. The drapes. The rug. Then you’re trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.”

Thanks to The Narrator, I can never go into Ikea with the same sentiments any more. Now, when I enter the doors and see all the perfectly modeled room cubicles, the inviting bed and the white shelves with the same, standardized books, when I find myself aspiring to have a room just like that, I am reminded of Fight Club and it really puts a damper to my excitement – maybe for the better.

It reminds me, all of us aspire to have that particular room, we all buy the exact same, cheap, mass-produced furniture – and sadly, even the same books (every shelf with a copy of the bestsellers, Harry Potter, an atlas, a dictionary, a bible …) and, at the end of the day, once we all assemble our Ikea products in our homes, feeling exceptionally proud of ourselves, we don’t realise it – our homes are all carbon copies of one another. And, unintentionally maybe, society has done this to us – made us predictable. We think we’re original and unique –

“You are not special. You’re not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We’re all part of the same compost heap. We’re all singing, all dancing crap of the world.”

And maybe I’m now admiring Palahniuk’s writing and thought process, but to admire the character of the Narrator is, in part, to admire the author behind it.

And now, I’ll move on to the movie version of The Narrator, played by Edward Norton. Norton does The Narrator a lot of justice, he acts and appears just as tired (like literally, the Narrator suffers from insomnia) and exhausted of his life (and depression), and his tone is equally cynical of where society is heading.

If you’re not much of a reader, then maybe you want to check out the movie, it also stars Brad Pitt and Helena Bonham Carter – but I would still suggest reading the book to get the full effect. The ending is also different from the movie. Here is a trailer to get a good idea of what the narrator is like:

And, again, as I ponder on what else I’d like to share about The Narrator, I find myself self-censoring my appreciation for him – let’s just say I didn’t expect and was in awe with the person he became. There are so many other reasons why I love the Narrator which I can’t quite speak of. Let’s just say that there is so much more to him than just an everyday man, and the revelation of this puts into question whether normalcy is really that normal at all, that maybe we are walking contradictions, walking paradoxes. And – and that is why I love the Narrator. Fullstop.

So, once again, be sure to stop by Rhey of Sunshine‘s blog for her favourite male character. And I’ll catch you tomorrow for my favourite female character.

Till next time,

cumuloq ❤

Poem: sit quietly at that dining table

sit quietly at that dining table
and stare down at the champagne rings
those half (glasses pressed)
air imprisoned in the concave globes
a chest that’s hard of breathing
a soft lilting sigh
escapes

and there you sit
opposite –
at the dining table ever so silently
and glance at her, occasionally,
a bubble here and there of her
an image of the brandished popped cork
stirring in the surface
a recollection of her
an earthly thing
the flotsam curling round the corners
of an empty treasure chest
and grasping to the table’s edge
with your white-knuckled hands
you forbid her to

escaping the notice of the pair at the dining table
the sheepish eyes wander
up and down the gaping bedroom door
a nomad’s stubborn trail
clasping at the torso of striped pajamas
and comforting play things
a pair of feet curled tight to the floorboards
two in the morning
hazed in a moth-eaten stupor
a mermaid’s kiss
a small pocket of sanity
a small pocket buried in the throat
as he watches him and
her
left hand clasped at the bottom her chair
her index finger on the trigger.

– cumuloq ❤