Mimicking Style

    It’s customary for him to buy flowers on his way home. He was a widowed merchant, and his three daughters were the suns in the sky. There was nothing special about that day. He took his routine route home. Though he was running late that day. In his hurry home, he forgot to purchase flowers for his daughters. It was then that he saw a wild rose bush. Its petals were uninhibited in their growth, and the resulting blossoms were rich in both fragrance and color. On impulse, he strode over and plucked one.

   A hissing in the background that had grown increasingly louder as the merchant plucked it finally climaxed as he reached to pick another. It was then, the merchant found himself in a bind. Only after he promised to give one daughter in exchange for the one rose was he released. He returned home safely, later than before and with a sullen face. For days he would not eat, repenting for his greed.

    His daughters were worried. They begged him to eat, but he would not. Eventually, they concluded that one of them must have displeased him and approached him one by one. The eldest and second daughter both went and returned, father’s predicament escalating with each rejection. It was then the youngest child’s turn.

    Approaching her father, her head knelt solemnly.

   “Father, have I displeased you?” She asked.

   “Do you love your father? Then hear me out, child. Upon my return from the long merchant trip, I picked a rose from the serpent’s garden to give to you. The serpent then asked for repayment after I told him of you all, and then insisted a ransom of a hand in marriage. But your sisters’ have already rejected this invitation and you are the only one left—“

   “If you eat your meals, and care for your health, then I will become the serpent’s bride.”

    Thus after, he ate. On the fifth day after his return home, servants of the serpent bothered for the bride. They bothered the family everyday until her family could not bear it and left to go to her groom. The wasps led her through the forest and brought her to a castle built for her reception. Spacious rooms were already furnished and filled with silk clothes and jewelry.

    Then I approached her and saw her shrink. This wound has rendered me undesirable, but I am accustomed to it. We sat at dinner that night and she told me she was grateful and would perform the duties of the house. The many next days, I made sure she was in comfort. If her joints were sore, rose water baths. If her head hurt, jasmine tea. Fondness developed in her gaze for me, and I knew she loved me.

   But she left. She could not stay. Where has she gone? I’m thirsty. Where is she? If only I wasn’t wounded.

(She late returned with water for our empty well. She found me lying, dying on the ground and ran to me crying out. My wounding curse was lifted and finally I am human with my beautiful wife once more.)

What is this feeling, so sudden and new?

note: I had to rewrite it..

I didn’t understand it before, and I don’t understand it still.

Every one belongs to every one else. The Savage has nothing to lose, so why is he so opposed to it? Is there something about me that’s so unappealing? Bernard rejected me at first as well, but finally relented after taking soma. Four pills, but nonetheless. And I thought for sure he was attracted to me before that as well, otherwise why would he invite me to the Reservation? Maybe it’s not something on my face, but rather my body..? Maybe I just have horrible taste in zippicamiknicks..

But more than that, why am I so stuck on John? Fanny mentioned it before, and I myself hadn’t been aware of it until she pointed it out. I don’t know why I can’t move past him. Although, …he is incredibly attractive has such a beautiful body on top of that. I can’t help but want him. I crave him. It’s a desire I cannot suppress even after his cruel reactions.

Every time he rejects me, strange unsettled feeling lingers in me. There’s a cold sweat in my palms when he walks away, and a pressure in my lungs. But it was never so serious that some soma couldn’t fix. Eventually it became a pattern. He would reject me or ignore me, and I would just take soma to wash it off. I tried again and again, over and over, to the point where Fanny told me to just rape him. I tried that too, and now he doesn’t even want to see me.

And it’s completely beyond me at this point! I have absolutely no idea what he needs in order for us to have sex! He told me he loved me, that I was beautiful. I blushed at this, he told me he really meant it too. But then he started uttering something smutty like dating and then marriage!

Marriage! A promise to live together for always? My Fordship, what an awful idea! Everyone one belongs to everyone else, first of all, and secondly, I enjoy sex with others. I could never reject sex with Henry, and imagine having to deny the Arch-Community-Songster! Having sex with the Director is standard as well.. In fact, Everyone one belongs to everyone else. That is that. Marriage? Preposterous. Smutty. It seems just like the barbarians on the Reservation.

But how can I convince John that it’s just his imagination? Our role to the community is more important than bonding between two people. Marriage could only harm our society and us. But he’s so convinced of his own ways! Just like Bernard. They both stick out in that way. Denying sex? Denying soma? Denying civilization? For Ford’s sake, why!

I got Bernard to have sex with me after giving him soma.. Perhaps this would appease John as well. But he refuses it so harshly. And now he’s on some abandoned reservation to live out a barbaric life like those primates from his Reservation. But why? It’s obvious to all of us he is suffering. Why, his movie is a blockbuster! If I didn’t know him, I’d laugh along and call it merry to come watch and have game with him.

But he’s suffering. He’s confused with all those knots and vacuums and “Shakespeare.” For his Ford’s sake, who is that? What does any of that have to do with having sex? He’s always leading the topic astray, and I just want to tell him to shut up! But none of that matters anymore. He’s alone and hurting himself to be…what. Happy? No, it’s clear as day he’s suffering! What does he want, what does he need?

But it’s not just him, I know. Something has changed in me, and I know it. The prolonged period without sex for the sake of courting him into bed. The tightness in my chest, the overhanging that seems to cloud my head when he rejects me. My quickening pulse when I see his face, and the flush of heat that flows into me after.

There’s something new about it. I know. There’s just…a different feeling now that I see him like this. The prickling in my chest is sharper now as I watch him like this, suffering and humiliated. I have to press my hand over it to alleviate the throbbing. It hurts to breathe and my lip is quivering without end. I don’t understand. Warm liquid stings my eyes and drips down my cheeks. What is this?

I don’t know, but--

I don’t want to see John like this. I think I--

Works Cited
Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. New York: Harper & Bros., 1946. PDF.

MY REACTION POST IS GONE? T_T

I tried to publish the post yesterday, but it wouldn't go through, and then my internet went down for a while, but when I checked my blog it wasn't there this morning! T_T I used bloggr to write the post, but the final draft wasn't saved, only the topic..?? T_T_T__T__TT__TT

wWHYY

Technology pass, please.

The Appeal of Contradictory Conflict

      Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was clearly a Gothic-Romanticist novel--however, elements of Enlightenment are present as well. It's especially interesting noting that the main protagonist, Victor Frankenstein, distinctly belongs to the Enlightenment movement. Victor boasts that as a child "the world was to me a secret which I desired to divine" (Shelley 25). "Curiosity, earnest research to learn the hidden laws of nature … are among the earliest sensations I can remember," Victor claims (Shelley 25). By sharp contrast, when the monster initially awoke "a strange multiplicity of sensations seized [him]"  (Shelley 87). While Victor earliest memories are clear in a seemingly fundamental "eager desire to learn," the monster's earliest memories are "confused and indistinct" (Shelley 26, 87). Victor is adamant in distinguishing that he, unlike children, was not interested in "childish pursuits," but rather in "the secrets of heaven and earth" (Shelley 26). As other Enlightenment partisans, Victor is convinced that all secrets of nature can be discovered and revealed.
       On the other hand, the monster, the creation of Victor's Enlightened philosophy, goes against everything he believes concerning beauty and appearance. Such an ugly creation, brought to life, could not possibly be human or alive, but only a monster. However this monster, although not nearly as rational or scientifically interested as Victor, is extremely on humans. Humans with their feelings and language,"[the monster] looked upon them as superior beings" (Shelley 98). The monster is deeply influenced by a novel he read while watching De Lacey's cottage, Paradise Lost by John Milton, and compares himself to both Adam and Satan in a comparison that reveals the deeply emotional nature of the monster. He is both unwanted and unloved, and pure anger can take him by force in a swooping and fatal action as it did when he killed Victor's brother, William.
       Noting that the monster himself is an evident representation of the natural, emotional ideology of Romanticism, the conflict between him and Victor reflects the competition between the rising movement of Romanticism in the early nineteenth century and the older, natural philosophy-focused Enlightenment. Victor's death by the indirect attacks of the monster represents the gradual and slowly dying Enlightenment philosophy. The deaths of Victor's friends and family symbolizing the death of all of the Enlightenment's figureheads; seeing that, in Mary Shelley's reality, they are dead at this point.
       The appeal of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein lies in that she put into words a characteristic of humans we all know, but don't necessarily explicitly recognize--duality. Frankenstein's monster is a spearhead figurine in the recognition of human's dual nature. Compared to both Adam and Satan after reading Paradise Lost by John Milton, the monster reveals of himself the kindness and humane nature of his soul and the social inflexibility and pressure that molds his existence. The good and godly nature of Adam, but the unwanted and sinful nature of Satan coexist in him. This dual nature is something that we, as humans, disregarding our religion and race and all the labels that categorize us, all can relate to. This ubiquitous and indiscriminate acknowledgement of intrinsic human nature is what draws the appeal of human society in all ages in our eternal struggle of overcoming our differences to come together in peace.

Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. New York: Bantam Dell, 2003. PDF.