Thursday, May 30, 2013

Of D.C., Dunkin' Donuts, and Daring

Tomorrow I will be returning to the Arlington/Washington, D.C. area. I've spent the last week in southern New Hampshire. It was not until now, driving around familiar places and showing my boyfriend around town, that I realized how simple my hometown really is.  Unlike Arlington, there are far fewer main roads in my town.  Traffic is lighter, the food is less exotic, and it's not unusual to bump into a few people you know when you go out (we saw my cousin and cousin-in-law at Applebees for lunch the other day and they do not even live in this town anymore).

Distance between Arlington and Derry (though this isn't the
route I take, because driving through NYC is horrible).
My boyfriend has assured me that, by the end of the summer, I will feel similarly about Arlington. Everything will be familiar and safe. I'm not so sure. Most of my days will be spent within a two-mile radius, I'm unsure about with how many people my own age I'll be interacting, and given that I'll spend most days working, I probably will not have a lot of time to explore the city. Furthermore, the culture is, I already know, very different from what I grew up with.  As of 2011, New Hampshire was 94.6% white. Arlington has a white percentage of 77.3%. Certainly its still the majority, but it will be a fairly significant change. Virginia itself has nearly eight times the number of people as New Hampshire does. I've had roughly eighteen years to acclimate to New Hampshire and my relatively small town. A few short months in Arlington will not be enough to truly feel as comfortable.

There can never be enough Dunkin's
iced coffee in my life. 
I expect to feel perfectly safe. My safety isn't an issue. But will I feel like myself? I don't know. This is what has been plaguing me the last few days as I drive by my local library, the familiar buildings of my high school, and making trips to the mall twenty minutes from my house. I know the exact location of all of these things. If I need a gallon of milk, I can immediately name three nearby places to obtain it. If I want some Dunkin' Donuts, I know there are at least six of them in my town, and two more not much farther off. I have a vague idea of where I can find one Dunkin's in Arlington, but I couldn't tell you how to get there.  With gas prices what they are, particularly near the city, it doesn't make sense for me to just drive around until I gain my bearings. I could study maps, but I doubt it would do much good for me -- my brain doesn't take in maps very well, it seems.

Just as I was several months ago when I originally decided to stay in Washington, D.C., I am scared. I am confident that I will survive, just as I always do, but a little fear is healthy.  We don't admit to our fear frequently enough. We see it as a weakness, rather than what it really is: just the awareness that we are entering a situation in which we will be uncertain or in potential danger. This awareness is an excellent feature evolution has fashioned for us to keep us safe. Why do we continue to reject it? Why do we tease people who experience fear? We should be embracing fear.

My boyfriend and I were talking about bravery the other day. It occurred to me that it is impossible to be brave without being afraid. By my definition (and perhaps the dictionary definition), you experience bravery because of fear. Acting despite the fear is bravery. Ignoring fear or denying fear is not bravery. Accepting fear and using it to propel you is bravery.

This summer I will be afraid, but I will also be brave. Despite the sense of unfamiliarity and disorientation, I will take on Arlington just as I took on Roanoke when I began college at Hollins University three years ago. I know it will be a challenge but recognizing that its a challenge is half the challenge itself. Every day I will take time to praise myself for successfully completing another day, for taking risks, for doing something that is challenging and scary.  I will take the time to recognize that I was brave that day, even if I "chicken out" on in some circumstance.

Maybe if we all accept that fear that plagues us, we will be able to claim it for our own use and overcome it. Nothing is ever accomplished if we don't first acknowledge our challenges and obstacles. Fear is that first obstacle.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

The Assassins Continue to Fail


In late August 2011, I began a blog called the Discomfort Zone. The aim of this blog was to detail things I had done that made me uncomfortable, such as the flash mob which resident assistants and members of the student government association prepared for the first year students. I ended up forgetting about the blog after two or so posts.

For the 2011-2012 academic year, I did not embody much of my plan.  Being an RA was something that I had pushed myself to do and knew I would struggle with, but there were few specific instances of me trying
Me, Gatsby'd up for the NEFA party.
things that I knew would put me out of my comfort zone.  This year has been different.  I applied for a Library of Congress internship, submitted my work to a dozen or so literary journals, took two classes that are notorious for being some of the most difficult English classes, applied (and was accepted) for a position as a Head Resident Assistant, explored Washington, D.C. by myself, accepted the challenge of an Honors Thesis for next year, spoke to strangers when I didn't want to, went to a NEFA (Near East Fine Arts -- a specialty house on campus dedicated to the arts) party, flew on an airplane by myself, drove seven hundred miles by myself, took an unfamiliar route from New Hampshire to DC and from DC to Roanoke and back...you get the idea.  This year, I pushed myself.

And for the most part, I was okay.  I survived.  I won't say it wasn't hard, because it was.  Especially because I've been going through a lot of personal issues this semester.  But I tried and I lived.

My current desktop background is wood with a post-it note that reads, "Good morning, I see the assassins have failed."  I originally selected that image just because I thought it was funny.  But looking at it the other day, I realized it means more to me than that.  It means I have survived another day.  Whatever the world has thrown at me, I have gone to bed and woken up alive and safe.  Whether the assassins were personal problems, new challenges I thrust upon myself, school work, or changes in the weather, I have made it through.  The assassins continue to fail.

I can't say what, exactly, got me through this year.  Maybe it was the support of family and friends.  Maybe it was sheer determination.  Maybe it was late nights on Tumblr and Pinterest.  Maybe it was my guitar, or my books, or the thought of my cats curled up at the foot of my bed.  Most likely, it was some strange recipe of these things.  And a hell of a lot of nerve.  Sometimes, I think I have nerve in spades.

For those of you still struggling, nerve isn't something that you can buy or just happen upon.  Nerve comes with ages of suffering.  Nerve comes with finding role models and knowing that they made it through (whether those role models are real or fictional is irrelevant).  Nerve comes with accepting that sometimes you are going to lose, but it doesn't mean you are going to die.

The next year, for me, looks like it might be even more difficult than this year.  But now, unlike before this year, I know I am equipped to handle these things.  What's more, I can handle them in healthy ways.  I've had people around me say that I'm taking things too far when I try to deal with things.  But I'd rather be over-prepared than not prepared enough.  I know what's best for my mental health and if it means going too far in the eyes of someone else, then so be it.
Don't let the ninja assassins get to you.

This blog post has been less organized than I intended, but I won't apologize for it. Self-discovery is rarely (if ever) an organized process and hardly ever intentional.  Still, if you have the opportunity, make yourself do something out-of-character, something scary, this week.  And when you tell yourself you want to stop, give it
just a little while longer before you quit.  This is the trick to learning about yourself and to learning about the world around you.

If you can, reflect on it. Write about it or draw a picture. Sit under the sky and contemplate what, specifically, about the event made you uncomfortable.  Then you can conquer it, then you can be better, then you can take on the world.

But only one step at a time.

Ninja image courtesy of How to Draw Funny Cartoons.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Half There, Half Gone: Living like a Ghost


The academic year at Hollins University is drawing to a close. Today will be the last day of exams, I finished everything on my academic to-do list on Friday afternoon, and graduation is in less than a week. Many students have already gone home for the summer, and I, along with seniors, their friends, and the other RAs, will be through the 20th.  Then I will finally be heading to D.C. for a few days, then up to New Hampshire for a week, then back to D.C.  But, while excitement for the summer has been filling me, I've also been struck with moments of a feeling of uncertainty and loss.
Tinker Day, 2011

I have one year left at this place.  Just one.

I have climbed Tinker Mountain three times and will do it once more.

I have lived in Tinker Hall three years and will do it once more.

I have suffered the perils of Moody food for three years and will do it once more.

I have completed fall finals three times and will do it once more.

Soon, the Hollins bubble will pop for me and about a hundred more of us.  We will move on from this place and encounter old friends and new friends, old jobs and new jobs, old homes and new homes.  Maybe we'll be back in two years for our two-year reunion -- maybe we won't.  Maybe, three years after that, we'll be back for our five-year reunion -- maybe we won't.  By then, some of us will have families, will have jobs, will have obligations that will keep us from the Blue Ridge Mountains which surround campus.  Things will hold us back and we will sit at our windows, watching the sky overhead and wondering how Hollins has changed, because change it does -- just as we change.

The other day, I packed up some boxes and put them in storage. Since then, I've been staring at the posters left on my wall and wondering when the appropriate time to take them down is.  Maybe I should have done it then.  Maybe I should wait until the day before I leave.  I hate taking posters down.  Doing so makes the walls look bare, the room less cluttered -- it makes me feel like a ghost living in my own space, half there and half gone.

I expect that is what a lot of next year will feel like.  I didn't have this problem in high school.  High school was horrible for me.  It was not, as many of my classmates expressed, the best year of my life.  Friends were few and far between, classes were not challenging, traditions were silly and meaningless, there was no sense of community.  But here, I have all of those things in abundance.  Despite the challenges I've faced here and the challenges I've faced while I've been here, Hollins is home.  As much as I am eager to start life in the "real world," I'm just as eager to stay here, keep taking classes, continue to learn, make more friends, participate in more traditions.

We are all just ghosts.
A lot of colleges seem to advertise that they will prepare their students for life after college in the sense that they will learn a skill they can use in a job.  At Hollins, I've learned so much about not only writing, but also how to be myself, how to have healthy relationships, and how to take care of myself.  I'm not convinced I would have the same experience at any other institution.  Maybe it's the size of Hollins that makes a difference.  Its population is about a quarter of what my high school had.  Maybe it's that it's a single-sex school. There aren't many out there and the bonds of sisterhood are great indeed.

Whatever it is, Hollins is an incredibly special place for me.  I am dreading leaving next year, though I know there are many great things ahead of me.  I have accomplished so much here, from being published for the first time to working as a head resident assistant.  Nothing could ever replace the experiences I have had here.  I have had amazing support from friends, faculty, and staff.

I have one year left to really immerse myself in and appreciate this place.  All I can do is do my best not to take it for granted, savor every moment of my time here, and celebrate not the end of it all, but that I was fortunate enough to experience it to begin with.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

The Great Gatsby is Great Indeed


Warning: Potential spoilers.

If you don't like the recent film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzerald's The Great Gatsby, I'm judging you. Hard.  I know a lot of you have concerns about the modern music in the film and the sense of extravagance and the fact that it's adapted from a book (because those never go well, I know), but let me tell you, this film is phenomenal.

Who wants to buy me this poster?
I will start off with addressing the music.  Yes, the film uses almost exclusively modern music.  However, I think there is a (very valid) reason the choice to include modern music was made.  Think, if you would for a moment, of Elvis (forget that he is not relevant to the 1920s or today, just think of him).  For his time, he was pretty scandalous, right?  I mean, pelvic thrusts, singing "black music," he was practically the Devil's son.  But looking back today, we just shrug our shoulders and point to Lady Gaga.  She's a hell of a lot more scandalous than Elvis.  And sixty years from now, there will be some other character on stage who trumps Lady Gaga.

Much of The Great Gatsby (the book, that is -- and from now on, if I'm referencing the book, it will be denoted with an asterisk [*], if I'm referencing the film, there will be no denotation) is about excitement and extravagance.  If the filmmakers had decided to use jazz-age music, that excitement and extravagance would not have come across as well as it does with recognizable songs that we associate today with clubbing, hundred dollah bills, and Hollywood.  Sure, there would have been the visual aspect, but I highly doubt the effect would be the same.  Essentially, jazz music would have acted as Elvis -- extravagant in its time, but no longer as exciting.  In order to really depict the chaos Fitzgerald writes of in his novel, modern music was entirely necessary.

Now, a note on the camera work.  (Which is my one complaint with this film, but only one part of the camera work.)  For the rising action of the film, the camera work is chaotic.  Prior to Nick Carroway meeting Jay Gatsby and at the party where he does, it's almost stomach-turning how quickly the camera cuts and swoops and dances around the actors.  As the time goes on, however, the camera work becomes more traditional.  I think this shift exists for two reasons.  One, the calming of the camera work indicates Nick, who was originally anxious in this foreign world of lavishness, has settled in it.  He has found his place and is no longer feeling such anxiety as he was before.  Therefore, the camera reflects it.  Second, part of the point of The Great Gatsby* is that the characters become disillusioned with the Jazz Age.  As this disillusion occurs in the course of the film, the camera reflects this as well.  The Jazz Age becomes increasingly serious throughout the film, and so does the camera become increasingly serious in its movements.  All of this I have no problem with and, in fact, (although it troubled me some to begin with because I couldn't keep up with the chaos of it all -- which is the point), think it rather clever.

The part I do take issue with, however, is that some of the scenes were clearly included  or set up for 3D viewing.  When I arrived at the theater, the woman who sold me my ticket asked if I wanted to see it in 3D.
F. Scott Fitzgerald says, "NO!" to 3D.
Knowing that I get headaches when I see films in 3D and not really seeing the point in it anyway, I opted for 2D.  Some of the remnants of the 3D filming were clear.  Daisy, lying in a room in which gauzy curtains blow about.  Streamers, bursting from all corners at Gatsby's party.  The reckless driving of Gatsby himself.  A number of other scenes.  It's not that each individual scene exists that bothered me, but that some of them were clearly only included for the sake of 3D and that there were so many of them is what bothered me.

The sense of extravagance depicted in the film, meanwhile, is absolutely crucial to the book.  If you disagree with me, go reread the book.  Because you missed some things.

I can't praise this film enough.  There were so many clever things going on with dialogue, lighting, set design, choreography, and a million other things, that it's impossible to catch it or even make not of all that you do see in the first run of the film.  The chemistry between all of the characters was fantastic, the acting superb (someone please give Leo a damn Oscar for this -- it's about time), the casting spot-on.  Oh, and let's not forget that this is one of the most faithful film adaptations of a book I have ever seen (it's not word-for-word, but very close).  Everything was reflected so perfectly that it felt like reading the book all over again but with fantastic visuals.

I will even say that, as someone who has read The Great Gatsby* twice (three times?), I never quite understood the geography involved.  This film makes it a million times clearer.

After the film was over, I walked out of the theater feeling a little drugged.  Outside, everything looked sharper but somehow hazier.  This could've been the misty rainy weather, but I think it had something more to do with the frame of mind the film puts you in, the way the visuals toy with your brain, the way the themes creep into your subconscious and hold on with tight, golden fingers.

Even if you're not into film analysis, go for the visuals themselves.  I don't know how much money they spent making this film, but it must have been an amazing amount.  While some CGI was evident, plenty of it is "real."

Just, go see the movie, okay?  You can thank me after.  In fact, save me a seat -- I'll go with you.

Movie poster image courtesy of Business Insider.
F. Scott Fitzgerald image courtesy of Find a Grave.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Book Cover Gender Swap


Yesterday, YA author Maureen Johnson proposed a challenge to her followers on Twitter: redesign the book cover of a well-known book as if it was written by someone of the opposite gender of the author or a gender-queer person.  I, and hundreds of other people, participated in this call.

Johnson reflected on the event today on the Huffington Post Blog page.  She described the birth of the premise, the issues behind book covers and author genders, and what we can do to change those problems.  One of the problems she cited was that women writers and their literature are not taken seriously.  When critics review these works, they describe the books as " 'light,' 'fluffy,' 'breezy,' or 'beach read.' "  This is despite the actual quality of the work.

My Pride and Prejudice cover flip.
I've read some of Maureen Johnson's novels.  Some are more seriously than others.  Some are more "beach read-y" than others.  But the covers tend not to reflect that.  Instead, they simply reflect that Johnson is a woman writer writing for an audience that the publishing companies have determined are, in the majority, girls or women.  This, of course, benefits the publishing company in that they are better able to advertise to their target audience.  However, they fail to attract male readers who might otherwise enjoy the novel.

Think of J.K. Rowling.  When Rowling's series finally got accepted at a publishing company, she was pushed to publish under the name J.K. Rowling rather than Joanne Rowling because the book would appeal to more boys if the author was gender-less (or, let's face it, masculine, because you're going to assume male when you don't know).  The American book covers are relatively boyish.  The colors are bold and the covers are typically devoid of colors society defines as feminine (ie pink, purple, yellow).  (There is some purple on the Goblet of Fire cover, but it's minimal.)  As a book about a young boy, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was marketed towards boys.

The fandom eventually gained female readers (exhibit a: me) but I would argue that most young adult novel readers (that is, young adult readers who read young adult books as opposed to young adult readers who read adult books) tend to be female.  This could also be because (in my experience), young adult books tend to be written by women and therefore have more female leads than male leads, thus making the plots more accessible to female readers.

Whether this is what causes the more feminine covers, I'll leave to the statisticians.  I will say, however, that when looking through the "cover flip" tag on Tumblr and viewing the slideshow on the blog post from Johnson, I noticed that the covers of books written by men (and presumably written for boys and men) tended to have a more abstract design than the books written by women (presumably for girls and women).  My evolutionary psychology mind switched into gear and I wondered why this might be.

My first thought (which is probably wrong, but I'll throw it out for consideration anyway) is that women tend to be more interested in relationships (be it romantic, platonic, familial) -- and therefore people -- than men.  Following this logic, it then makes sense that books for women would have covers that feature people more than books for men.  I'm open to other theories, and I'll probably have more as the day goes on, but that is what I'm offering you to chew on for now.

My cover flip of The Call of the Wild
I'll own that I don't know a whole lot about how book covers are designed.  I don't know if publishers do specific photo shoots for books (assuming the design has a photograph as opposed to a drawing or some other visual) or if they just choose from a list of stock images.  I don't know how much the designer of a book cover typically knows about the actual book (though my understanding is, if you are a high-profile author you not only get more say in the design, but have more contact with the designer).  I'm happy to open the comments to people who are more educated in this field and can enlighten both me and my readers.

I hope, however, that you do a cover flip yourself.  Pick your favorite book and imagine someone with the opposite gender of the actual author wrote it.  What might the cover look like?  Design one, upload it to Photobucket or wherever you like to keep your photos, and link to it in the comments.

And in the meantime, be thinking about what if the same were true of films.  How would films be marketed?  What if the cast of The Avengers was gender swapped?  (I recognize, as per Rule #63 of the Internet, that there is plenty of fan art out there which does this; but what if mainstream artists did this?)  That sounds like the kind of world I'd like to live in.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

By a Lady: Making the Most of Identity in Creative Writing

Professor Pauline Kaldas
In every class I have ever had with Professor Pauline Kaldas, I have been required to include a reflection essay with my semester-end portfolio.  Although I have been rather un-creative with these essays in the past, I decided this semester to make the piece part of the portfolio itself, rather than just a bland statement citing what I learned through this spring.  For those of you who have not yet had a class with Professor Kaldas but have an opportunity to do so, I suggest you do.  I recently named her as my new adviser when I was informed my adviser would be retiring.  She is an excellent mentor, accepting, kind, intelligent, creative, and everything you could ever want in a professor.  It is because of her work as a professor that I am able to write as well as I do (though I do not claim to be any great writer -- only that my improvement is very much due to my interaction with her).  Therefore, I offer you this semester's reflection.

When Jane Austen and her family originally published many of her works, the line beneath the titles frequently read “By a Lady.”  While this was likely done, at least in some part, to save her reputation (as society continued to frown upon women writers at the time), I appreciate another meaning this byline now holds.  Two centuries later, “By a Lady” means so much more – the line of credit acknowledges a sisterhood among women writers while taking ownership of and pride in being a woman in a man’s world.  Austen and her publishers might have decided to release her work under “Anonymous.”  After all, in A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf asserted, “I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.”  However, the printers laid out the letters and so “a Lady” remains the author of such classic works as Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, thus allowing women writers like myself to publish under our own names today.

I have, while continuing to improve my writing through practice, workshops, and reading others’ writing, attempted to keep Austen and other foremothers in mind.  In surveying a list of multicultural literature, I have come to realize that I am now part of this collection of authors who might have been Anonymous were it not for Austen and others like her.  Though we still very much live in a man’s world, women writers continue to hold and important presence.  Once these women writers claim their place in the domain of literature, they are free to explore other positions they maintain.  Thus we have British women writers, physically challenged women writers, lesbian writers, Latina writers, and a number of other women who represent a community in addition to the circle of women writers.

Once I grasped and owned the title of a woman writer, I looked to other places in my life for identities.  I found I was a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, a student, a white New Englander, and a twenty-something writer.  These were not labels I needed to come into or earn.  I did not have to write about being a daughter or a girlfriend or white New Englander in order for those themes to be present in my writing.  Instead, because I was the one writing, my essays inherited the perspective of all these labels.  I do not need to identify these tags for them to be present in whatever writing I might produce.

You hold an arsenal of identities that manifest
in your writing.  The more you are aware of them
the more you can use them to your advantage.
This recognition opened a whole battery of writing material.  I could, if I chose, write about being a sister, a student, or a twenty-something and still be confident that whatever perspective I decided to ignore in a particular piece would still appear.  Just by writing, I am able to encapsulate a collection of subjects, regardless of the stated focus.  If, however, writers take the time to recognize the arsenal of titles they hold in their lives, the sheer amount of material which presents itself may be overwhelming.  The number of available topics in any writer’s life is far greater than they might realize. 

The responsibility that comes with owning these titles publicly, too, is great.  For in addition to being men, women, non-binaries, teens, forty-somethings, students, New Englanders, and whatever else a writer might be, as long as at least one person reads what they have written, they will always be shapers and influencers.

That the number of titles we hold, however informal they may be, indicates several specific communities and unique understandings about which to write, can only encourage writers not only to write more, but to do more, be more, experience more.  The wealth of a life well-lived makes the poorest writers the richest.  Their gardens of fodder boast not just their native roots, but perhaps spices from foreign lands, grains from other times, vegetables from hidden communities, and fruits from years of labor. This is what makes a multicultural writer.


Image of Professor Kaldas courtesy of Packet-Media.
Image of masks courtesy of Graphic Design Ideas.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Shy Guy: Darcy in Pride and Prejudice


I write papers, I have no blog material/time to write blogs, it only makes sense for me to post papers on here.  Right?  (If you disagree you can move along.)

Here is a response paper I wrote after rereading Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time.  

Pride and Prejudice
Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice explores a number of themes.  Most obvious is Elizabeth’s misinterpretation of Darcy’s actions.  Along with others in the novel, Elizabeth feels Darcy is proud and cold due to his unwillingness to participate in social events.  Although the word is never used in relation to the character, “shy” is a far better descriptor of Darcy.
            Austen lures her readers into agreeing with Elizabeth by only allowing them to view Darcy through the eyes of Elizabeth and other characters.  In Darcy’s introduction, “he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased” (Austen ch. 3).  While the narrator pins Darcy this way, without the description, readers can interpret Darcy’s actions as something else entirely.  “Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party” (Austen ch. 3).  Though the narrator leads readers to believe that these are symptoms of pride, readers can indeed explain these actions in other terms, most particularly shyness.
            Darcy, even, indicates that his antisocial behavior is a result of a shy demeanor.  After Bingley encourages his friend to have a dance, Darcy refuses.  “ ‘You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner’ ” (Austen ch. 3).  His statement is further emphasized by the fact that he only dances with women he knows at this ball.  Yet, readers are deceived because Elizabeth and other characters continue to impress that Darcy is proud.  Mrs. Bennet is particularly harsh when discussing Mr. Bingley’s sociability.  “That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter” (Austen ch. 9).  Mrs. Bennet does not suppose an disinclination to being social might be a result of shyness.  Because the idea is never directly suggested to readers, readers are willing to agree with the mistaken characters.  This ultimately assists in creating greater tension in the novel while still allowing for a reasonable and happy ending.
            Miss Darcy, meanwhile, is allowed to be shy.  The narrator openly bestows this attribute on Miss
My favorite Darcy, enacted by Matthew
Mcfadyen.
Darcy and not her older brother because as a female, it is acceptable for Miss Darcy to own shyness.  Still, Miss Darcy’s reputation is of being proud.  “[Elizabeth] had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was only exceedingly shy” (Austen ch. 44).  Elizabeth and others were clearly unwilling
reluctant to offer such an excuse for Darcy, or at the very least imagined shyness impossible in a male figure, especially in one of so high status.  This passage offers a hint to the readers, however, that their heroine has misled them.
            Darcy’s shyness is finally admitted in chapter sixty.  “ ‘What made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards dined here?’ ” (Austen) Elizabeth inquires.  Though only two instances are accounted for, the narrator finally allows readers to rest in this small suggestion that Darcy has been shy, not proud, all along.
            In relying on the opinions of other characters and the actions of Mr. Darcy alone, Austen manages to trick her readers into believing that Mr. Darcy is indeed proud.  By doing so, the readers become more engaged with Elizabeth as a character and are as blind to her faults as Elizabeth.  This carefully constructed piece of Pride and Prejudice sets up readers to be surprised by Darcy’s actual character as he acts the hero in multiple ways. 

Works Cited
Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. N.p.: n.p., n.d. Project Gutenberg. Project Gutenberg, 5 Nov. 2012. Web. 22 Mar. 2013.

Book image courtesy of Novel Reaction.
Darcy image courtesy of Tumblr.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Apologies Once Again

Unfortunately, I have been unable to post as of late because on Sunday evening, my computer charger decided to die. Given that it gave me no warning it was going to die, I chose to forego a proper funeral and just leave it to rot on my floor.

As punishment for dying the week before finals, I hope it enjoys a long stay in power cord hell. My new charger will not be available to me, in all likelihood, until Monday. Maybe. If I am lucky.

I've also been dealing with preparing for finals, some final programs for residents, and some personal issues. Oh, and Psi Chi, into which I was accepted and of which I was promptly made president in Monday evening. I then celebrated this new addition to my resume further at Honors Convocation, where I was formally recognized with other students who achieved similar...achievements.

In any case, I hope to be blogging more regularly when my new charger comes in.

In the meantime, from my iPad, my apologies for the unexpected hiatus.