Saturday, March 29, 2014

#20 "Spoken Dish" Memoir: Lemon Soup for the Soul

            “Some people think the most precious gift you could inherit is healthful, delicious food.” (Smith, Heirloom Foods).  The summer of my seventh grade year, I took a trip to my grandmother’s family house on the Greek island of Ikaria and learned just that. It was the hottest summer they’d seen in fifteen years. Islanders couldn’t stop sweating; both in the air conditioning and in the sea.  So, obviously my grandmother decided to make her famous, piping hot lemon soup.

A steady, hundred degree heat radiated off my grandmother’s tile and into my sweaty palms.  I caught a glimpse of the crystal ocean outside. Crashing waves mixed with the hum of the kitchen sink.  The cracking of an egg. Peeling the ponytail from my dripping neck I readjusted to feel the fan’s cool air.
             “Koukla mou!”  A slight moan. I was finally comfortable. “The avgolemono is hot and ready!” 
            “But it’s ninety-seven degr…”  A wrinkled hand grabbed me from the waist and hoisted me to standing. 

 
            She didn’t even feel the Greek, afternoon heat.  Her eyes were fixed on the stove in the next room and her manicured fingers were wrapped around my wrist like a serpent.  I heard her begin her lecture on not letting any ingredient go to waste. I had heard it so many times I wasn’t even annoyed.  Growing up during the Depression, she had learned to live in a way far different from my American upbringing.  Unlike my littered dinner plates, hers were spotless.  Whereas I had made a personal decision to loathe green beans, she loved every food equally.
            “I want you to give these chicken scraps to the birds by the fence.”  She handed me the meat, ignoring the look of horror on my face.
            “But…that’s cannibalism.”
            “Birds deserve a nice dinner too.”  She gently pushed me out the door and closed it.
            The next part of the story is too painful for me to reiterate but I can tell you that it involved a parade of unknowing chickens eating their siblings. The craziest part is that when it was over, I felt a deeper love for my grandmother and her beliefs about food.  Even today, she never leaves the table without giving a few noodles to my dog.  Her affection towards humans is equal to that towards every other living thing. In his series on Culture, Food, and Identity, Mervyn Claxton says that “eating together is an important social act […] a recognition of fellowship and mutual social obligation”.  For my grandmother, this social act is extended towards all.  A stereotypical Greek “yiayia”, she never turns someone away from a meal, is always cooking, and constantly finishes her sentences with, “you’re too skinny.”

 
According to Foster, eating together says, “I’m with you, I share this moment with you, I feel a bond of community with you.” (Foster 11)  As it relates to those poor chickens, this statement is all but too true.  As it relates to the entire world, I believe that this belief needs more followers. I’ve learned that food is, in some ways, the greatest equalizer.  In her novel, You are What You Eat, Claudia Cornejo asserts, “Culinary skills and choices often reflect social and personal identity.”  One of those choices being, “the ingredients considered edible”.   Sure, my grandmother’s version of edible often seems a bit extreme.  But it’s that unwavering spirit that has allowed her to open her arms to all different types of people and invite them into her life. Since that summer in Greece and in my continuous run-ins with avgolemono soup, I have come to realize that food isn’t just keeping our bodies running; it’s keeping our souls alive.
    
Works Cited

Claxton, Mervyn. "Culture, Food, and Identity." Series on Culture and Development.
            Vol. 6. N.p.: n.p., n.d. N. pag. Normangirvan.info. Web. 17 Mar. 2014.

Cornejo, Claudia A., H. "You Are What You Eat: Food as Expression of Social Identity." Home
             Cooking in the Global Village. Oxford: n.p., 2006. 176. Cromrev.com. Web. 17 Mar. 2014.

Smith, Brad. "Heirloom Foods." PBS. PBS, n.d. Web. 17 Mar. 2014.

Foster, Thomas C. How to Read Literature like a Professor: A Lively and Entertaining Guide to         
             Reading between the Lines. New York: Quill, 2003. Print.

 

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

#19 The Rainbow


Part I:  From the beginning of time, men have relentlessly contemplated the battle between strength and wisdom, brawn and brains.  For centuries, there has existed a war between the two ideas- for at first glimpse, brawn seems to bear the most obvious power, yet upon further examination, knowledge wins out.  In D.H. Lawrence’s The Rainbow, this dilemma is debated in the mind of a woman.  Through his utilization of contrasting tones and metaphoric comparison, Lawrence characterizes the woman as both a thoughtful observer and a universal truth, emphasizing the paradoxical struggle that exists between man and beast, where often times, wisdom becomes brawn and man becomes animal.

            As suddenly as it began, this prose passage shifts in tone.  After characterizing the Brangwen men and their “blood intimate” nature (16), Lawrence creates a stark contrast by recycling previous diction in giving it new meaning. Whereas “warmth and blood” initially describe a positive element of the land, the phrase “pulsing heat of creation” sheds a more negative light on this lifestyle (6,24).  Through the eyes of the woman, the men aren’t really as free and powerful as they feel, they’re caged and weak, like their animals, looking only inwards, instead of beyond, which Lawrence describes as the woman’s “deepest desire” (36).  By contrasting these two views, the woman’s inner wants and dilemmas are realized.

            This use of contrasting diction, along with the passage’s later metaphor begins to uncover a less obvious opinion held by the woman, one she may not even realize she obtains.  As she is contemplating the power the vicar holds over her husband, the comparison that exists between man and beast arises.  “What is it about the vicar,” she questions, “that raised him above the common man as man is raised above the beast?” (54) It’s Lawrence’s metaphor and rhetorical question that prompts us to follow the woman’s logic.  The woman has realized that the life of the Brangwen men limits them from looking outwards and attaining the wisdom of the world.  It is working with the beasts that makes them the beasts.

            By the conclusion of four short paragraphs, Lawrence has managed to take the woman through a complete journey, beginning with a dilemma and ending with resolution.  Contrasting diction, tone shifts, and metaphoric language allows the ambiguous character of the woman to come to life and raise the question between strength and wisdom, man and beast, and what really constitutes the role of the master.

Part II:  My initial essay score for The Rainbow prompt was a 7.  I believe that my essay clearly offers a “reasonable analysis” of the prompt and does it with “clarity and control.”  Trying to remember what I failed to grasp first trimester, I focused more on the complexity than the actual prompt, and feel like I improved in that specific area, yet for this reason, may have lacked examples of literary devices. I do however, feel like I did a better job at “referring to the text for support” instead of just slapping a bunch of quotes down on the paper.  I consciously focused on elaborately on the quotes and using them as less of a crutch.

            After learning about D.H Lawrence’s concept of “blood knowledge”, I feel like I have gained a more concrete understanding of the complexity that exists within the text.  Instead of honing in on the “man vs. beast” aspect of the passage, I wish that I had addressed the irony involving Lawrence’s own belief system.  I would have discussed the industrial revolution as well as the anger the author held towards the value placed on wisdom in Anglo-Saxon society.  Now I realize that I could have used literary devices, such as Lawrence’s repetition of “blood” and “knowledge” to support this assertion.

            Another element of my prose passage essay that I see needs improvement is the ability to “make a strong case” for my interpretation.  The fact that I could have mentioned personification and anaphora seemed to completely escape me when I was initially reading and annotating the text.  I should have discussed the personifying elements in the first paragraph such as the earth opening up to the men as a way to further my case for a tone shift and contrast in diction.  I addressed these topics, but didn’t go far enough in supporting them with concrete evidence to receive an 8 or a 9. 

            Of course, after these literary devices and complexities are pointed out to me, I see what I could have done to include them in my writing the first time.  However, my essay didn’t just lack these pieces of information, it also lacked in style.  After reading some sample essays on the same prompt, I’m trying to lock in my brain the keys for stylistic success in a prose passage essay.  Next time, I’m going to focus on completing a solid argument, outlining it, and then crafting my argument in a more convincing manner. I can tell that the most convincing essays (those who deserve 9s), don’t only address the prompt and the complexity, they use high-level diction in such a way that their argument isn’t camouflaged, it’s strengthened and sounds more intelligent.