Lily Briscoe

"All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams." --Elias Canetti

It was about 10:30 in the evening and raining steadily as I was making my way home after a long day of classes. As I was walking from the subway station to my home, I observed a man standing with his right side against a wall and talking with his back to me. But as I came closer, I realized there was no one else there-- he was talking to himself. I was taken aback, but not really that shocked. (Hey, this is New York City. If you ride the MTA you know what I mean). I still can't keep my eyes off of him, I don't really know why. When something like this happens, I usually avert my gaze and pretend I don't notice, but it was dark and raining, so I wanted to get a glimpse of his face.

Well, I don't remember his face looked like, because what I saw made my body nearly jump out of its skin--the guy had no hands.

Elaine Scarry was a delight to read. "On Vivacity" and "On Solidity" remind me of a text like Aristotle's Poetics or Plato's Republic. It puts into words and theories what I've always felt about the written word.
In "On Solidity," Scarry uses wonderful quotations and examples from many sources: art, literature, music, and philosophy. It reminds me of the interdisciplinary nature of this class. One of my favorite examples is the one from Tess of the d’Urbervilles where a character kisses the lips of a shadowed image. The juxtaposition of solid wall and hazy, transparent shade illustrates Scarry’s assertion that “two or more images that are each independently weightless can nevertheless confer weight on one another.” This reminds me of the principle of condensation, in which multiple ideas or images are fused into a single image. The consolidation often proves itself to be more meaningful and “weighty” than if it was a single figure or idea.

“What I dream I had, dressed in organdy
Clothed in crinoline, of smoky Burgundy
Softer than the rain. . .” –Simon & Garfunkel, “For Emily”

I'm being driven through the trees in a car to get to a nature retreat. I don't find it weird or scary that we're drivng through the forest and not on a road. I'm going there to surprise a former flame. We pass through thick fields of wheat and I see children swimming through flooded rice paddies.

It's a beautiful, utopian scene and I'm filled with the thrill of the blue skies and the intense colors swarming in my eyes. It's a euphoric feeling from my head to my toes. Just pure beauty. I've never felt more natural, more human, in the best sense.

My destination turns out to be my grandma's house. There are other travelers lodging there and their luggage is strewn throughout the small hallways of the little house. I can't find my suitcase, so I decide to search outside. I find myself in a long courtyard. About a hundred yards away I see two figures sitting on a bench. As I make my way down there, the two men come into focus. It's my ex-boyfriend condensed into the actor Mark Ruffalo.(the ex-boyfriend looks nothing like him).

I watch his amused, somewhat surprised face, but always smug smile. His eyes are silvery blue, just like I remember, and I melt. But I don't let it show. I play it casual, pretending it was a big coincidence. We exchange pleasantries, nonchalantly. It is there that I find my luggage.

I say "I guess I'll see you later," and he replies, "I guess so." I turn around and try to work it as I strut away. As I make my way back through the yard, I have to pass through a series of little gates, one right after another. I open one, then shut it behind me. This goes on for awhile. During all of this I feel that it is some significant symbolic episode.

I found Jean Rhys's Wide Sargasso Sea an intoxicating and poignant companion to the more formulaic, yet thematically complex Jane Eyre. Reading Bertha’s story enhanced my reading of Jane’s story. With the parallel themes of passion, the imagination, and identity, both books illuminate each other, especially in our discussion about dreams. With the inclusion of Mr. Rochester’s experiences in Dominica, I got a clearer picture of why he fell for Jane. I would have liked to see a passage from Christophine’s point of view (kind of like Dilsey’s section from The Sound and the Fury), but maybe that would destroy the mysterious, ominous mood.

Joseph Noel Paton. Titania, 1850.

This wood engraving is based on a drawing by J. Paton. This picture accompanied a passage from A Midsummer Night's Dream:

"Come, sit thee down upon this flow'ry bed,
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy."
(IV.i)

I found this picture portraying Nebuchadnezzar's Dream on the DeviantArt website. It's from an artist nicknamed "Joseph Art"