Squidmek

This past Sunday, I ran longer than I ever have (I'm training for my first marathon). Seventeen miles. And I was absolutely exhausted. I took a long nap on Monday, on the sofa, and I repeatedly fell into a dream of running. And many physical reflexive movements in the dream made their way into reality. I tripped in the dream, and fell forward, so in the dream I fell forward and actually fell off the couch. Which of course woke me up, and I fell immediately back in to the dream. I twitched and jerked myself awake again and again, as I dreamt that I stepped on a rock or jumped a curb.

I just got a baby Pug on Saturday. I ha d a dream on Saturday night that my wife and I were out to dinner celebrating something--not sure what. And our new pup was at the dinner table with us, sitting on a chair. The waiter demanded that she leave. For some reason, I was an obstinate jerk and said no. They tried to take her from us, and I knew that if they did, she would be gone forever. I got so scared that my heart started to pound wildly in the dream. Kate tried to calm me down in the restaurant. I woke up with my heart pounding so much that it made me nervous. I shot up in bed, and within a few seconds I realized I was only nervous from the dream, and my heart rate began to calm. I'd like to think that this has nothing to do with anxiety over having children. Probably does.

Scott Cheshire
American Poetry: Colonial Period to 1700

—The primary concern for the writer of the period is self-definition. America has no distinct personality, at the time. So while certain themes are prevalent—slavery, Puritanism, Native Americans—most poets, of which there were many (thankfully, only three of consequence for us), were more concerned with self-definition within these contexts. Context is of particular importance in early American poetry because poets recorded their experienced reactions to new contexts, yet old ideologies (Bible, Bible, Bible) framed the new experience. Within the three poets mentioned there is this wrestle between ideology and the desire to re-define one’s self. In the case of Anne Bradstreet: the wrestle between the Puritan feminine ideal and Bradstreet’s own emerging sense of individual femininity. In the case of Michael Wigglesworth: the wrestle between personal worldly desire and public service to God and community. Edward Taylor: the wrestle between faith and art.

Anne Bradstreet: 1612-1672

The first in the British colonies to have a book published. Described by Cotton Mather as a “gentlewoman whose extract and estate were considerable. She arrived in Mass. in 1630, of nonconformist Puritan heritage. The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung Up in America, her first book, was published in 1650. It was famously forwarded with a preface by a man guaranteeing that (astonishingly!) her womanly and family duties had not been neglected while composing poetry. Early work still highly influenced by European writers like, Spencer, Sydney and Dudley—mostly elegies and dialogues. In 1678 posthumous work is published, all of which exceeds her older material, and is far more personal. In her work she explores the “tension between convention subject matter and her own experience, between rebellion against and acquiescence to frontier life and between her love of this world and her concern for the afterlife of Puritan doctrine.” Works of particular interest: “The Author to Her Book,” “Before the Birth of One of Her Children,” “To My Dear and Loving Husband,” “ A Letter to Her Husband, Absent Upon Public Employment”

Michael Wigglesworth: 1631-1705

Wigglesworth served as Maulden Mass.’ physician and minister for over fifty years. His diaries candidly document his struggle to refrain from sexual desire, while reflecting on the Puritan conception of God and grace. In 1662, he publishes The Day of Doom, North America’s first bestseller. The long poem is a form of “jogging verse” called a fourteener, lines consisting of 14 syllables, usually having 7 Iambic feet. It’s anapestic galloping pace made it easier to remember for many Puritans, and it was recited often publicly. It centers on the Day of Judgment, and serves as a response to rising materialism in the colonies and a decline in spirituality. Works of particular interest: “The Day of Doom,” “Meat Out of the Eater,” “A Song of Emptiness”

Edward Taylor: 1642-1729

“Colonial America’s…most prolific and inventive poet.” Taylor wrestled with a post–romantic influence on his orthodox and plain subject matter—Puritan faith. His work is often infused with lush metaphor, and approaches something closer to metaphysics rather than Puritan orthodoxy. His acknowledged influences are Wigglesworth, Milton and John Bunyan. A chief concern was the Lord’s Supper, explored in his greatest work of 271 poems, Preparatory Meditations Before My Approach To the Lord’s Supper. Works of particular interest: “Upon Wedlock, and Death of Children,” Preparatory Meditations Before My Approach To the Lord’s Supper

Bibliography

Heath Anthology of American Literature: Vol. A—Colonial Period to
1800. Ed. Paul Later. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2006.

Lawson, Stephen. “Fire and Ice: Puritan Reformed Writings.” Puritan
Sermons Page. 1 March, 2006. <
http://www.puratisermons.com/poetry/wigglife.htm>

VanSpanckeren, Katheryn. “An Outline of Early American Literature.”
From Revolution to Reconstruction Page. 1 March, 2006.
< http://www.let.rug.nl/usa/LIT/wiggle.htm >

Anne Bradstreet Page. 1 March, 2006.

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Had two of these lately. I don't seem to recall much else than my walking somewhere. I don't seem to know where I'm going, yet I seem very earnest in the dream. One dream, it was on a road--but last night it was in a football stadium. I can see the seats, and they see so incredibly far away. As much and as long as I walk, I never reach them. And somehow I'm not concerned about it.

I''ve been feeling very anxious about school lately. A bit burned out like I'm sure we all are. And I can't help but wonder if this is an attempt to pacify my anxiety. The stadium, for me, makes me think of school. So, maybe so.

Last night's dream was one of the very few lately that I recall. I'm not sure why this is. I noticed that, last semester, as class progressed and I became more and more concerned about dreaming--the more dreams I remembered. And as that progressed-- the more I remembered, the more vivid and complex they became. Some almost seemed as if they had a plot. Now, as class has changed, and as we become more concerned with academic particulars--exam, paper, orals, etc.--I seem to be recalling less dream activity. AND my dreams are growing more and more vague, general, and ambiguous. Not nearly as exciting. Last night, a dream of walking. Over the past weekend, a dream of waiting. A few nights ago, a dream of sitting at a bar in Manhattan and drinking, while complaining about the price of the drinks.
What happened to the absurdity? Where's the violence. I was having some very violent dreams there. I miss the violent dreams.

The Gross and McDowell were good reads, but above all I enjoyed the practical approach. I occasionally freeze on exams, specifically essay exams. Often, I beleive it's because of a lack of planning. I just sit and bite my nails until I eventually dive in--with not enough time left and not a very good plan for the essay. Writing about poetry, I've found, can be especially tricky, because one can get quite creative with the essay. As much fun as this can be, I find myself going digressing, and perhaps not sufficiently addressing the question. My goal: to really familarize myself with poetic terms. As the piece we read explains, this will save tremendous amounts of time. "Blank verse," as opposed to 2 or 3 sentences describing blank verse. PLUS, if you have the tools with which to talk about poetry, I don't see how any essay about poetry will catch you inprepared. Especially if you have a plan. I usually find myself talking about the poem interpretively, and ignoring the formal elements. Maybe that's because I've been ill prepared to talk about them.

I've been reading a fascinating collection of contemporary writers on saints, A Tremor of Bliss. In it, Wolff chooses to write about St. Jean de Brebeuf (I'd never heard of him myself) (the saint, not Wolff). He seems particularly taken by Brebeuf's preoccupation with dreaming. Here's Brebeuf on Native Americans (who he earnestly tried to convert) and dreaming: "They hold nothing so precious that they would not readily deprive themselves of it for the sake of a dream...in a word, the dream does everything and in principal truth the dream is the God of the Hurons." It's not so clear here, but he obviously is perturbed by this, as Wolff is by Brebeuf. I'd like to read more about Brebeuf (this is only a short piece and more concerned with "certainty of thought" in believers), because in my readings of Christian saints, dreaming is often the vehicle by which they experience God. For this very reason Protestant tradition gives dreaming very little value. They claim the "godly experience" is too direct. Yet Breneuf seems supect of dreaming. I'm curious.

I feel much more confident now that we've taken it, seen what it looks like. BUT I'm also very aware that I was lucky. I immediately recognized about five or so of them. And I could just as easily not recognize any next time, when it really counts. This concerns me because the remaining answers of mine were not nearly as strong. I've got to think more strategically. As other students explained their answers, I thought, I recognized that but I didn't think to include it. I think I found myself at a loss for words on the ones I did not know right off the bat. Which is a bad move, because those are the ones that need most of my attention. SO on the exam I might actually start with the ones I DON'T know, give them more attention.

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My apologies to everyone. This should have been up 3 days ago.

American Prose 1700-1820
Again, what matters here is identity. There is no “American,” as of yet. There is only the American experience, which can be described as either an indigenous experience (as in Native Americans, and first generation American writers) and the experience of the non- native responding to his/her environment. And again--Bible, Bible, Bible. The average person of the day regularly reads the Bible, and holds it as a benchmark for almost everything. But, as one would imagine, there are those who critique the book, and in response to Puritanism, take a stand against organized Christianity. Notably, Jefferson does this and explicitly takes a deistic stance. Some writers use the Bible as source of metaphor, though not necessarily from a Christian perspective. A good example is Crevecoeur, who uses the Eden myth to explore what “the American man is,” while critiquing established Christian norms.
Look for stilted language, preoccupation with slavery, didactic voice and tone, and a preoccupation with the individual. There are slave narratives (as in Jacobs, on our prac exam), and captivity narratives—most famously, Mary Rowlandson’s Narrative. Also look for sermons. Texts are often much more complex and modern than one might expect. There is an exploration with narrative voice in many texts from this period, epistles, faux-autobiography, mode-splicing. Some critics find this to be an extension of the American search for self-identity.
Below are the important texts. Unfortunately, many of them have equal chance of showing, since the perspectives represented within the texts are all very different. I’ve thrown in some poetry, too. And some texts that predate the period but need to be mentioned.

Mary Rowlandson A Narrative of the Captivity and Restauration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, 1682 (the account of her 3-month captivity by Algonquin Indians, one of the first bestsellers in American lit.)
Cotton Mather, The Wonders of the Invisible World, 1692
John Locke Essay concerning Human Understanding, 1690 (Yes, I know he’s English, but a big influence on much at the time, especially on Jefferson)
Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanac, (1733-1738), Autobiography of…, (1771)
J. Hector St. John de Crevecoeur, Letters from an American Farmer, 1782 (specifically letters 3 and 9)
Thomas Paine, Common Sense, 1776
Thomas Jefferson, Autobiography of…,(1821) Declaration of Independence
Phillis Wheatley, “To His Excellency George Washington,” 1776, “On Being Brought From Africa to America,” 1773
Phillip Freneau, “The Indian Burying Ground,” 1787
Royall Tyler, The Algerine Captive, 1797
Susanna Rowson, Charlotte Temple, 1791 (also an early bestseller)
Washington Irving, Rip Van Winkle, 1819
James Fenimore Cooper, Last of the Mohicans, 1826
William Cullen Bryant, “Thanatopsis,” 1817

Bibliography

American Literature. Ed. William E. Cain. New York: Pearson Longman, 2004
Heath Anthology of American Literature. Ed. Paul Later. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2006.

I made the mistake (as has been kindfully pointed out by at least one of you) of wishing for the return of violent dreams.
Last night I had this dream: In a bowling alley. I'm running back and forth across the shining wooden lanes, declaring that I'm having a heart attack. I pass a wall length mirror and catch my face in it. My face is beaded with sweat. Large, glass-like beads covering my face and neck. I then notice a large blood vessel in my neck (likely the jugular) that is twitching and spasming and growing ever-bigger. So big that I'm afraid it will burst through the skin. I slide across a bar table into a party of four, and say, "I believe I'm having a heart attack." They smile.
I woke up scared as hell.

Yesterday afternoon we sat on a patio, outdoors, and the great weather got us a bit homesick for Atlanta. Spring in Atlanta is really quite beautiful, but Summer is brutal. Regardless, we were remembering our favorite restaurants and bars, etc. Overall, wishing we could be there for the afternoon. But then Kate noticed that the waiter resembled a frightening young man in Atlanta who stalked her for a bit--as in, outside her windows, hiding behind trees, leaving cryptic notes in the mailbox. This got us onto the subject of stalking, which thankfully and proudly I can say I have no experience with, whereas Kate mentioned that she'd actually accompanied someone on a stalking once! Of course she didn't know it at the time, but the guy friend that first convinced her to move to Atlanta took her to dinner the first night upon their arrival. This was clearly not a romantic dinner because he eventually lost all semblance of normalcy and began to talk about the girl two tables away that he'd been following for 2 years. He even began to describe her car, the one they'd been following all the way from North Carolina. We are no longer longing for Atlanta. It was a passing notion anyway; there's nothing like Springtime in New York.

All of this is simply to give reason why I had a dream last night much like the Malkovitch, Malkovitch sequence in Being John Malkovitch, in which every one in the restaurant scene IS Malkovitch, as a result from John, himself, entering the portal. Except, in my dream, everyone resembled the stalking waiter. As frightening as it could have been, it was really very funny. He was hiding beneath tablecloths, behind the piano, and of course there were three of him sitting at my table.