Thursday, January 29, 2015

Until the Writing Hand Hurts

So, Leo finds out that someone had a copy of a book that he wrote when he was much younger and still living in Poland.  Except that they've changed the book so that everyone's name is Spanish except for Alma's.  So we know that this book, or some version of this book has to be The History of Love right? Because our character Alma is named after the character Alma from The History of Love who the author is in love with.  So who is Zvi? I have no idea.

But here is something I do know:  At the end of my last post I talked about how one major motifs of the book was silence; now we know more specifically that silence is a major motif of not the whole book but Leo's writing.  The History of Love, and both Babel and Kafka's eulogies were written by Gursky; all three discuss silence in depth and from different angles.

  • The section in The History of Love, called the Age of Silence discusses a time when humans communicated without spoken word, but rather with gestures.  By all literal interpretations this would mean humans lived in a silent atmosphere, but Gursky argues the opposite.  He says that because humans communicated with their hands, and because they were almost always moving their hands to do something, they were always communicating.  Every motion, whether intended as communication or facilitating an action was interpreted by others to mean something.  We do the some thing today; there is a distinct difference between how the hands of an excited person writes and how an angry person writes, not just in the way their faces look.  An excited person may write quickly and sloppily while an angry person will grip their pen tightly, make large, dark letters, and write more slowly.  Anyway, the point is that Gursky says that people communicated more not less when they didn't use words.
  • In Babel's eulogy it says that he was sentenced for the crime of silence.  It says he began to appreciate it, even in the reading he did, the music he listened to, and the things people did not say.  He could never say one word or else "destroy the delicate fluency of silence." (Krauss 115) He lived his whole life like that, and people got mad.  They beat him and they sentenced him to death, and all because he was silent, yet he stuck with it.  What good is the silence to him? What was the point, why was he silent?  Because in the end he realizes "what he had taken for the richness of silence was really the poverty of never being heard." (Krauss 115).  And anyway all of his blank manuscripts were burned, and there was no trace of him.  I'm not sure about this one.  He was so determined, but why was he so determined?
  • Then the last piece we read is his eulogy for Franz Kafka.  Kafka speaks, and Kafka writes, but mostly he listens.  He can't get out of his tree because then people would stop asking for him, and they say that when he died the people could hear themselves in his ears.  Kafka left his life to observe others'. He did not make a spectacle of his loneliness because he was allowing his existence to be silent.  He lived to observe, and he wrote books on it and people loved them but they didn't care, understand, or even care to understand him or his way of life. 
So here's what I get from that: Leo thinks a lot about silence.  I mean in the first piece, the major piece of his career, Leo considers silence a good thing. Underrated.  He says there are so many ways to communicate without words.  In his later life we see him communicating his loneliness to the world through embarrassing public accidents that are completely on purpose.  We see him loving Alma so much that he lets her and his child go so that she can be happy with someone else, not fighting her for what he wants.  Is he wrong to do it? He certainly isn't happy.  In his second piece he shows Babel in his final moments of life, regretting his silence and realizing it was all for nothing.  Is that what Leo thinks his life is? A waste?  Maybe the important part is the understanding that the silence gave Babel.  The idea of gaining a new point of view.  Kafka has a similar understanding, of observing instead of acting, but I don't see how that really relates to Leo.  Maybe it does in regard to his relationship with his son and Alma, but otherwise Leo oddly enough seems to be a pretty self-focused man.  He really only worries about himself and what happens to him regardless of how brutal he is about it. 

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

The Trouble with Thinking

Alright now this book is starting to get freaky.  So Litvinoff turns out to be Leo Gursky's best friend at the end of Leo's life.

Time is probably the most confusing portion to this piece. It's, I guess, sometime in the middle of Leo and Alma's stories.  Is Litvinoff also Bruno? Ahh I'm a little confused.  Plus, Litvinoff says that Leo is a better writer than him, and he finally realizes as he's dying, but then he doesn't die.  Isn't Litvinoff supposed to be from Chile? And Leo lives in New York... alright at least there is a lot of book left so I can figure this out hopefully.

To be honest though I really loved the eulogies that Litvinoff wrote for the different people in this section.

"FRANZ KAFKA IS DEAD
"He died in a tree from which he wouldn't come down. 'Come down!' they cried to him. 'Come down! Come down!' Silence filled the night, and the night filled the silence, while they waited for Kafka to speak. 'I can't,' ... 'Because then you'll stop asking for me.'" (Krauss 116)

Then in the first one it says:

"DEATH OF ISAAC BABEL
"Only after they charged him with silence did Babel discover how many kinds of silences existed." (Krauss 114)

Plus! (Now I'm on a roll) Remember this part of the History of Love?

"...she read the opening chapter, called 'The Age of Silence':
"...During the Age of Silence people communicated more, not less." (Krauss 72)

SILENCE!!! That's BIG!

First reaction: Maybe Krauss is saying that being silent is saying more than you think.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

My Father's Tent

"4. I SEARCHED OUT OTHER FORMS OF LIFE" (Krauss 95) 
In this section, Alma makes a key point that I believe fits better with Leo's story than her own, but its presence in her story leads me to believe that it is an important theme in the book.  The point is this:
"I'M AMERICAN!" (Krauss 97)
Or maybe the real point comes from her brother's retort:
"No you're not. You're Jewish." (Krauss 97)
Either way this part is an extension to my previous belief that a key point in this book is showing Jewish people's separation from the rest of America in this time.  First, Alma is shouting that she's American because she would rather be that than whatever parts Israeli, Polish, Czech, Russian, German, or English she so chooses, which is the reality of her ethnicity according to her mom (and her genealogy).  Second, her brother's clear mental distinction between American and Jewish also shows their separation.  So even this girl who has family, and is not alone, is seemingly cut off from others; possibly it is based on real experiences, or possibly it is just a mental separation.
Just a quick thought from this section.

Friday, January 9, 2015

A Joy Forever

Back to Leo who we find impatiently awaiting the response from his son about his book.  Only the Leo we find is not the one we left in chapter one (well, maybe at the end).  He is excited, fidgety, and he stops trying to do things for the attention of strangers.  He says, before "I would've had a small mishap at the milk station. Not this time.  I poured the milk like a normal person, a citizen of the world," (Krauss 76).  My favorite part of that line: "a citizen of the world," because I really think that's the change Leo goes through.  From Alien to Citizen, he has finally found a place.  There are so many ways this scene shows this.  Leo is formerly an alien of America from Poland.  Until this point I'm not sure that he has really felt as though he was particularly a part of America, and maybe he still doesn't fully, but going to Starbucks is one step in the right direction.  On a more serious note this act really does seem to help him fit in with what happen to be American people, and more so than that with all people of the human race.  Because when he says' "citizen of the world," the opposite would really be an alien to the world, which would make now the first time he has really started to associate with other people.  His only friend is one he has had since his boyhood when he lived in Poland, and his one love is also from then.  When he moves to America, he becomes the new, washy version of himself that is desperate for any attention he can get.

Then Leo realizes that instead of seeking the attention of random people, he really craves the attention of his son.  That becomes really depressing when he realizes his son has died.  I really felt bad for Leo.  He just needed to know his son, and he never got the chance; that doesn't seem fair.  It was his own son after all.  Then the whole part of him going to the funeral and freaking out.  I mean he's really losing it and almost gets kicked out and starts speaking Yiddish.  Sometimes I find it really hard to relate to him, but he never ceases to interest me.  It's sort of like looking at something disastrous, like you know everything is going to go wrong, but you just can't look away.  Poor guy, it makes me really dislike the girl he loved because she left him and told him he couldn't see his son.  Even if she did die.

Connection: The main characters of this book are Jewish, and our two main characters are Jewish living in America.  Neither of them has much contact, or at least self-association, with the outside world.  They mostly associate with their Jewish friends or relatives.  What does that mean?  I'm not fully sure yet, but I think it may be one of the major messages of the book.  Clearly, it has shown some of the struggles of Jewish refugees of WWII assimilating into American culture after they were forced to leave their home.  Especially through Leo, even if it is not particularly on his mind, we can see the problem's effect.

My only other idea to the meaning of the work as a whole would be that it probably has something to do with love.

Monday, January 5, 2015

Forgive Me

Because this is such a short chapter I'll take the opportunity to discuss the style of the novel as a whole along with the content and character development that I have been mainly addressing so far.

In this chapter, we have a third person narrator for the first time.  Chapter one was narrated by Leo Gursky, who I discuss in my post The Last Words on Earth, and chapter two was narrated by Alma Singer, discussed in My Mother's Sadness, my previous post.  What that did for me, was make this chapter a bit less personal and a bit more about connecting the stories of our two narrators (not that it had anything to do with Leo that I know of so far) because it put our fairly limited story of Alma and her family, into a real-world context which will hopefully be explained further.

Things I have noticed:
The sections narrated by Leo are stylistically focused on flashback, yet there is also a distinct present tense in which a bizarre, albeit fairly simple plot develops.  The same is true of the story line in Alma's section, however the style is different in that she writes her ideas in lists.  Her style follows time from past to present much more closely than Leo's and She seems generally more organized because of this and her list format.  I also liked the lists because it gave the title's a little more potency than the rest of the chapter.  Otherwise they might not have stuck out as much, but I found them interesting and important.
Each Narrator has a symbol at the beginning of their chapter; Leo has a heart and Alma has a compass.  Leo's heart reminds me of the fact that he can never give up on love, and it reminds me of his heart attack in which a large amount of his heart muscle died.  Alma's compass reminds me of her astute sense of moral direction, and her intrigue of adventure because of her dad.  It will be interesting to see how those continue to form and relate to the characters in different ways.

Specifically in this chapter we get an insight into the man responsible for the book The History of Love.  Most interesting to me, is that this book seems to cover just about every person this book affected.  I kind of assumed that it would have been more popular.  It makes me wonder about the other books out there that have only been printed a few times but are really moving.  Maybe I should read more... I think a teacher just got wings somewhere or something.

Anyway, I want to know how all these stories intertwine, but it's looking like this book is going to get a thumbs up from me.  It is definitely different from other books I've read in the character types.

My Mother's Sadness

The first thing that strikes me about this chapter is the voice.  Mature, and naïve are both words I would use to describe Alma Singer.

And if she is so intent on making her mother fall in love again why does she never want to herself; "not in a million years."(Krauss 54) she says.  What's different? Does she consider her mother dependent and her not? Because she would actually have a leg to stand on in that argument, at least for herself.  But I'm not sure she gives her mom enough credit.  Typical teenage girl I guess... 

"8.   My Mother is the Most Stubborn Person I Know" (Krauss 39)
"15. Whenever I Went Out to Play My Mother Wanted to Know Exactly Where I Was Going to Be"  (Krauss 43)
So, to back up my previous accusations, these two facts she knows about her mom seem super ordinary.  Far be it from me to question the existence of a mother who frequently stuck to her guns in the face of her teenage daughter.  And maybe this was a different time where moms always let their children run wild in the streets until supper if only to get a day of peace (much like my paternal grandmother), and they could feel safe about that because of the neighborhood they lived in or because they felt their children responsible enough to do that.  But I still don't find it shocking that Alma's mom is protective of her.  Especially after losing such a close member of their family, I can understand how she would be extra careful.  

But then there is another side to the story that we see.  Maybe her mom worries, but she doesn't seem actively protective of her children.  If anything she is frequently described as distant and occasionally completely out of the picture:
"19. The Wall of Dictionaries Between My Mother and the World Gets Taller Every Year" (Krauss 46)
"32. For Two Months My Mother Hardly Left the House" (Krauss 60)
And in her mother's mental absence, Alma really becomes the head of the house, and she raises her younger brother Bird about as much or more as we see her mother do.  So we do see Alma as a far more independent 14 year-old than most.  But I still struggle with calling her mother completely dependent.  I mean she depends on Bird and Alma to raise themselves, but not to help her take care of herself.  And it's not like she asks for all of her children's "help" falling in love again. 

I just don't get it.  I can see Alma wanting to help her mother fall in love if that was how she thought everyone's life was supposed to be; Happily ever after, and all the story book cliché you can cram into a young girl's head.  But she doesn't even want that for herself.  She should innately understand that that dream is not for everyone because it's not for her.  Maybe she thinks that her mom needs love, even if she doesn't want it.  And wouldn't that be just a too-good-to-be-true reflection of her own situation.  I mean don't tell me that a fourteen-year-old girl with an absent mother, a bizarre little brother, and no friends to speak of isn't in need of some love, no matter how much she doesn't want it.  

So take it back to the top.  And in case that tangent was getting a bit long for you here it is again:
The first thing that strikes me about this chapter is the voice.  Mature and naïve are both words I would use to describe Alma Singer.

Mature enough to raise her brother, worry about her mother, and not worry about breaking social norms to be who she wants, yet she is still naïve.  Her constant attempts to set up her mom and her general air of a lack of experience give the reader the impression of a much older mind inside the body of a young girl who simply cannot know more than she has been taught, or has experienced.