http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/ weblog en Copyright 2007 Fri, 25 May 2007 07:31:51 -0500 http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/ http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss Wilco record that talks about dreaming a few times) and films, and especially in fiction. The blogs have given me a forum--whether or not someone's listening--to think about how dreams work whenever I come across them. I found myself jotting down things like "the dream in that short story," and not actually thinking about what it means for the story until blogging about it. It's been so useful, and in some ways addictive. And of course there's the great experience of reading other blogs. Reading different perspectives on the work under discussion always added to my own understanding. Also, getting a sense of someone more intimately (though in most cases anonymously), I believe, really helped the class become more cohesive and ultimately a richer one. I have to say, one of the most valuable aspects of the blogs was to have Prof. Tougaw share his with us. It demonstrated his level of investment in the topic of dreaming, and of his investment in us as his students. It really created a trusting environment, one that allowed for open discussion. In the end--despite the work load--I will miss the class. It has proven, by far, to be my most memorable, useful, enjoyable and rewarding experience at Queens. One that would not have been the same without this blog project. ]]> http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/the_inevitable_metablog.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/the_inevitable_metablog.html Fri, 25 May 2007 07:31:51 -0500 Being Dead. It's the story of a couple who returns to a beach, on which they met decades before, for a picnic. The opening paragraph mentions that they're brutally murdered during the picnic (so I'm not ruining anything, I promise), and the subsequent chapters alternately tell the tale of their meeting, their youthful romance, and the literal decomposition of their bodies as they return to the earth, picked at by crabs and gulls. It's oddly strange and beautiful. I wish I had the exact wording, but I lent the book immediately to a friend after reading it. Anyway, Crace's narrator is frighteningly omniscient and nuetral, and he describes the husband's last few moments, "a little more than a half-hour." At one point closer to his end, the husband begins to dream, and yet the narrator doesn't tell us what he dreams of. It's interesting because it leaves the man some dignity, after we've witnessed his very undignified death. But more interesting is the concept of dream at death. Never thought of it before. Death is so often described as sleep, but rarely (except for Shakespeare) do we speaking of dreaming at or in death. It's lovely really, and I'd never fully considered it as metaphor, but more for it's possible reality. Maybe we do live on in dream. Energy goes on without dying, so perhaps we live on in dream on some energetic level. There was an ancient Indian philosopher, Shankara, he insisted that the dream state is every bit as legitimate as waking state--each only pale versions of Ultimate Reality. And that we can only achieve Ultimate Reality when we see that this life too is is dream while we're here, and that we will go on within alternates states of waking and dreaming until we "wake up" from waking life. And he claims to have "woken up" a few times himself. Now I'm going off on a tangent. I guess I just found it beautiful and even comforting. And it's a good example of this course's ability to heighten awareness and, in turn, enrich the experience of art and life. I'd read the book before, and that one brief bit was glanced over. Read in the context of this course the book has taken on yet another level of poetic intent. And I'm free to imagine a good dream for the two of them. ]]> http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/jim_crace_on_dreams.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/jim_crace_on_dreams.html Fri, 25 May 2007 07:00:31 -0500 I just woke up from a morning nap on my sofa and yet again had an extremely conscious dream. My ex-wife was sitting next to me on the sofa, and I was very aware that I was sleeping and that she wasn't actually there, but her voice was clear as day. And I knew that if i concentrated she would just appear. And she did. But she kept disappearing, and I'd hear her in another room. So I would go to that room (which, now that I think about it, felt like the house I grew up in)--and in that room I would listen for her voice, and then tell her to appear and she would. At one point I said explicitly in the dream, "I know that I'm dreaming," three times in a row. Like Dorothy. I kept seeeing her, but could not approach her. I told her I wanted to talk, that I'd heard she gotten married. She laughed, and said it was none of my business. She kept laughing, and then I believe I fell into deep sleep. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/a_morning_dream_of_my_exwife.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/a_morning_dream_of_my_exwife.html Fri, 25 May 2007 06:51:52 -0500 I was in a large stadium, one much like Shea. In fact, it felt like Queens somehow. And we were all waiting for the arrival of something. All meaning the entire stadium filled with people. It got suddenly very dark. I looked up and saw a blimp, or a hot air baloon, not sure which--it was landing on top of the stadium completetly covering the stadium opening, blocking the sky. Ropes fell and we all began to pull, trying to pull the blimp into tha stadium. Door flaps fell open, and we all got very excited. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/new_dream_1.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/new_dream_1.html Thu, 24 May 2007 08:57:52 -0500 I seem to have the sleep paralysis thing happening quite a bit, but almost always on the sofa when napping. Just ten minutes ago, I hear (in my sleep) the horrible and inconsiderate people that live above me (in reality) running through the halls and stomping up the steps--in my dream, however, this turns into some kind of evil intruder in the hall, tyring to break in. But I cannot get up and suddenly, in my dream, I'm on my couch while someone is attempting to break down the door, but I cannot move. Completely paralysed as I try and awake. Which reminds me of this great moment in the book of Job of what sounds very much like an incubus: "Now a thing was secretly brought to me, and mine ear recieved a little thereof. In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones shake, then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up; it stood still, but I could discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence and I heard a voice saying ..." (Job 4: 12-16, King James Version). Given the context of the story, this cannot be a spirit asscociated with God, and it is wholly nightmarish. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/the_book_of_job_and_sleep_para.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/the_book_of_job_and_sleep_para.html Fri, 18 May 2007 08:55:21 -0500 Divigations, 2007: "How far from procuring its much-touted pleasures the civilized state really is! One should, for example, be astonished that in every big city there doesn't exist an association of dreamers who happen to be there, an association supporting a journal that recounts current events from the particular perspective of dreams. Reality is just an artifice, good for anchoring the average intellect among the mirages of fact..." Baudelaire's is notable for, simply, how beautiful it is. This is a small excerpt from "V: The Double Room," from Paris Spleen, 1869, New Directions, 1970: "A room that is like a dream, a truly spiritual room, where the stagnant atmosphere is nebulously tinted pink and blue. ...Every piece of furniture is of an elongated form, languid and prostrate, and seems to be dreaming; endowed, one would say, witha somnambular existence like minerals and vegetables. The hangings speak a silent language, like flowers, skies and setting suns. No artistic abominations on the walls. Definite positive art is blasphemy compared to dream and the unanalyzed impression. Here everything is bathed in harmony's own adequate and delicious obscurity..." The piece goes on in this dream-like way, describing the room for maybe ten more paragraphs and concludes. It's very pretty and, I think, very creative in the way it creates a dreamy atmosphere. I wonder if Dali had read this. Perhaps this was an inspiration. ]]> http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/mallarme_and_baudelaire_on_dre.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/mallarme_and_baudelaire_on_dre.html Fri, 18 May 2007 08:18:17 -0500 I found myself noty nervous at all, until I got up to the podium. Then my mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. As far as the conference as a whole, I found myself fully engaged the entire time. Really enjoyed watching people deliver their material, and handle some difficult and left-field questions. My wife said she was completetly interested from beginning to end, and that time really flew by. I was a bit nervous that there would not be enough questions from the audience, but there almost too many! That one gentleman had me laughing. I was waiting for him to ask if his dreams would ever come true. Kim Bain! I'm so proud of you. I heard from Prof. Tougaw that you're the valedictorian of my ACE class! So happy for you and you deserve it. Sorry I couldn't make it to see the speech. I had unavoidable class. And Anthony- your mom's antipasta was so good. Tell her thanks so much. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/postconference_kim_bain.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/postconference_kim_bain.html Thu, 17 May 2007 10:30:40 -0500 Brand Upon the Brain!, and it was really one my favorite cinematic experiences. The entire film was shot in distorted and bleached black and white, and it was entirely silent--complete with cornball titles and captions for dialogue--each with an exclamatory! It was accompanied by a live orchestra providing the score, a live "interlocutor" (as she was referred to) for narration, a live castrato singing parts of the score, and a live foley (great new word)--which is a set of performers that, with various props, provided live sound effects. Walking upstairs, water splashes, etc. It really was an amazing show. BUT I bring it up here because it was extraordinarily dream-like, and the plot was a virtual celebration of Freudian obsession and dependency. Evil doting mother in love with son, evil mad scientist father experimentingon children, sister doubling as mother having sex with father, continually revisiting a primal scene. The whole shebang. Even the title; I think Madden is riffing on the very concept of Freudian thought, and its unavoidable presence and influence since. ]]> http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/guy_maddens_brand_upon_the_bra.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/guy_maddens_brand_upon_the_bra.html Sat, 12 May 2007 11:54:03 -0500 I'm napping on my couch this morning, but in dream I'm lying flat on a street. Around me are my family having a BBQ. The sky goes wild, black swirling clouds, fireworks of light and gathering clouds. I see the silhouettes of large sailing ships floating through the skies. I point them out to my father, and he says, "Get up and run." A black cloud tornado-like cloud is fast approaching. As it comes closer I see it is quite small, though tactile. I can touch it. It's sticky, oily. My father says to get up and run, but I can't move. I yell for him to take my hand, because I cannot move. At this point I become completely aware that I'm sleeping, and become afraid that I will never get out of the dream--which is odd considering I know that I'm sleeping and this is dream. I focus all of my strength on my hand--just raise my hand. I wake and see my left hand raised. I'm feel dizzy upon waking, and still somewhat groggy even now. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/morning_dream_w_sleep_paralysi.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/morning_dream_w_sleep_paralysi.html Fri, 11 May 2007 09:55:26 -0500 I just got turned onto Jim Harrison, finished reading one of his novels--The Road Home. It was really very beautiful. Dealt quite a bit with displaced Native Americans. One passage that struck me (though I cannot actually find it right now)--the gist of it: one of the unspoken tragedies of the displaced Native American, their dreams are no longer their own. Because dreams are rooted in personal myth, and myth sprngs from place. Not sure if this is true, of course. And I certainly did not say it nearly as poetically, BUT it got me thinking about (on a much smaller scale) about how dreams change with location. As in, I dream very differently in a hotel. And what got me thinking this in the first place--I often take a nap at 6 or 7AM (I get up very early), and it's always on my sofa. On the sofa I have the most bizarre dreams. Very quick, very intense. Often aware, not necessarily lucid-just the awareness of dreaming. Very often I experience sleep paralysis. When I'm in bed, however, nearly never. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/jim_harrison_on_dreams.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/jim_harrison_on_dreams.html Tue, 08 May 2007 08:19:07 -0500 I don't know about anyone else, but I'm so relieved that it's finished. I'm not particularly astute when it comes to the computer to begin with and the HTML was driving me crazy. I thought "floatimgleft" was floatingleft" --as in floating. drove me nuts. BUT, it was quite rewarding, and addictive. I couldn't settle on a color scheme, until my birthday. We had a bottle of champagne and the box was silver, orange and pink. Not sure if it works but I decided to stick with it. I now realize these are the Dunkin Donut colors. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/dream_project.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/05/dream_project.html Tue, 08 May 2007 08:15:06 -0500 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. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/a_stalking_dream.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/a_stalking_dream.html Wed, 28 Mar 2007 04:28:00 -0500 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. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/be_careful_what_you_wish_for.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/be_careful_what_you_wish_for.html Mon, 12 Mar 2007 17:05:41 -0500 Download file 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. ]]> http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/american_prose_17001820.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/american_prose_17001820.html Honors Exam Fri, 09 Mar 2007 12:57:01 -0500 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. http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/relfections_on_first_practice.html http://blogs.qc.cuny.edu/blogs/0906N_1432/018/2007/03/relfections_on_first_practice.html Fri, 09 Mar 2007 10:45:27 -0500