The Redefinition of an Undefinable Word

Happiness, yes, my entire class probably detests the word now thanks to its fervent over usage in discussions, writings and homework as of late. The word itself so seemingly bland and overdone yet so inherently inexplicable. Not a single person could paste a concrete and universal definition to those three syllables. However, I find solace in Albert Camus' take on the elusive noun: "You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life". Although Camus may seem a hopeless pessimist based upon this quote, I can not help but find this cynical outlook on happiness...eye-opening. Oddly enough, it makes perfect sense: if one plagues themselves with searching for happiness, how could they know when they finally obtain it? Unfortunately, I have absolutely no possible answer to that question, at all. And more importantly, why should I? The way I see it, nobody should possess the ability to answer such a conundrum. To give happiness a criteria parallels the absurdity of giving fun a strict set of rules. Thus, happiness itself must remain untethered. However, people do not seem to like such ambiguity when it comes to emotions, as far as society concerns themselves they either come in black or white. And, therein lays the problem, in order for society to feel comforted they must have the ability to categorize themselves as happy. For some it could come with a new car, for others something as simple as going for a walk around the block on a warm night. Yet, both extremes seem to always long for what the other has that makes them happy. The wealthy man, sitting in their new Porsche may see the walker with his kids strolling the block, on that warm summer night, smile on his face, and then long for that, just wanting to lay low and take a walk with his own family. On the contrary, those who find joy in a warm breezy night walking, hand in hands with their kids may long for the delicacies of life, maybe that Porsche that just drove by. Evidently, happiness comes differently for each and every one of us, and we must relish in what we know we have that brings a smile to our faces, not longing for what brings a grin to the faces of others. As Mr. Camus might agree, one must cherish their own treasures in life as opposed to wishing to experience the bounty of others, not in a selfish way but in revolutionary way, rewrite what happiness means to society, and tailor it around what it means to you.

An Examination of the Specimen Known as: "The New Kid'

The new kid, we all can picture him: quiet, shooting quick grins at his new peers who still appear so foreign. You know, the kid aspiring to find his place, working diligently to play it cool,  fit in, yet always managing to make an utter fool of himself. Ah yes, the wonders of the ever elusive new student, an interesting specimen, one that I have a special familiarity with, after all, I walked through the front doors of Chagrin Falls middle school as one myself not too long ago. Switching schools does not come with ease, as I discovered quite rapidly. Packing up my belongings, trading familiarization for uncharted territories. Free falling took on a whole new meaning when I dove into the abyss and  left behind my closest comrades while embarking on a new and furtive chapter in my life to the "bubble" of Chagrin Falls. My journey only entailed a 20 minute drive from Shaker Heights, but to me, I might as well have crossed an ocean. Yes, I will admit it, I whined, complained and wanted to return to my roots on Van Aken Boulevard, however my displacement in no way trumps that of the amiable Joseph in Roddy Doyle's 2008 short story New Boy. Whilst we did in fact share the same label of a "new boy" at one point in our lives that seems to act as the only similarity myself and the African Refugee share. However, when reading about Joseph's predicament's on his first day of school I found myself humbled by the way he handles his predicaments. While I did not exactly come to face death threats from obnoxious bullies on my first day of school down at the "prestigious" Chagrin Falls Middle School I did manage to stumble with pronouncing my last name for some profound reason, nerves I suppose. Although a menial mistake, I let it wrench at my inner consciousnesses  For the next four days I convinced myself everyone thought I rivaled that of a dunce, an overreaction of course but what could a thirteen year old do to tell himself otherwise? I still look back upon that first week and think that there existed no better way to have handed that situation, even though I handled it poorly, until the humble and naive Joseph proved me otherwise. When confronted with a situation, exponentially more dire than my own, a simple "you're dead" from the class bully Christian Kelly, young Joseph simply brushes it off thinking "all men must grow and...die" (82). A profoundly simple thought, all men must grow up, and all of us will eventually die, although his naivety obviously plays a role in his oddly unconcerned reaction he did in fact teach me a valuable lesson. While I fretted over a matter so simple , yet so ludicrously complicated thanks to my worry over what others think, Joseph simply takes matters where they stand, not over analyzing, just an innocent interpretation of an empty threat. I now realize, although five years too late, that through the same innocence and simplification, nobody even knew the right way to pronounce my name, and more importantly, nobody cared. Thus, Joseph left me with a clear understanding that sometimes a tinge of naivety fused with a little simplicity, can make the first day of school's problems, and life in general a little more bearable for us new kids.

The Ethical Divide: An Inquiry Upon Justification Versus Meaning

The discussion which our class shared over "The Second Bakery Attack" by Haruki Murakami still weasels its way into my thoughts every now and then, particularly concerning the subject of whether or not the robbery the couple partakes in constitutes necessity. For the most part my class stood on fairly even planes regarding the issue, around half of us, including myself, contending that the robbery saves their still infantile love, others leaning back upon robbery's immoral values. I however could not let go of the highly blurred moral line between the two, and how my peers and I seemed to support something so inherently wrong with such vehemence  The illegality of armed robbery does not ever come into mind as something that deserves further inquiry, yet, the severity of the robbery in the case of the troubled lovers does not seem comparable to that of such a crime. Therein, lays the point of contention. The issue with the discussion rests within the fact that the author wrote the story under the genre of fiction, fiction represents a theme, a lesson learned behind the story, and that seemed to have escaped the thoughts of those who only saw the robbery as illegal. These contenders kept retreating to the grounds of robbery's horrid nature, the illegality  the sheer horror! Yet, the author obviously did not intend to pen a short story with the purpose of simply condemning robbery. I believe the sincerity behind the robbery that arose thanks to their adventure breeds a new found intimacy among the two lovers. Thus, the author intends for the immoral characteristics of robbery to take a spot on the back burner and for the reader to simply look at the profound change within the couple's relationship and not spend so much time focusing on the crime itself. Accordingly, some of peers could not seem to grasp that concept over the injustice of the couple's misadventure. Therefore, I think that the author raises an interesting assertion by simply leaving the story open for the reader's discussion as so happened in my class. The assertion that the justification of right and wrong trumps the freedom of thought to interpret the meaning of what lays between the two. The salvaging love versus the robbery's ethical wrongness falls into this grey area and presented it's relevance to his assertion in our discussion. Thus, I can reflect on the confliction between the two standpoints as a prime example of how the author's assertion demonstrates itself in the minds of my generation. The sharp contrast between the two camps of thought among my peers, proving just how differently our synapses fire when it comes to justifying something so concrete as robbery, to something to abstract as love.

The Case of the Missing Theme

If I had a chance to sit down with the Pulitzer Prize winning author Elizabeth Strout I would have several inquiries in which I would like to see answered. However, one such question regarding her 2008 novel Olive Kitteridge has meddled itself into my thoughts since finishing the book and even during the story itself. "What is the overall theme of your novel"? It seems such a basic, shallow, and unspecific question however I can not seem to pinpoint an overall purpose for the story. The brunt of the issue lays within the way Strout writes: thirteen separate stories within themselves each with ostensibly little to no underlying connections with one another. Aside from basic plot developments connecting from one story to the next unearthing a carrying over theme seems nearly hopeless. Given, each story has its own set theme which presents itself without much need for analyzation. For instance, the theme of Ship in a Bottle: "sometimes one has to sacrifice what they think is right choice for the betterment of others". Strout proves this theme when Winnie's sister runs off with her boyfriend instructing Winnie not to tell anyone. Consequently, Winnie "almost cried" due to her yearning to tell her parents, and second guessed herself thinking "they could still do it [get her sister], she was still here" (197). However, Winnie does not give it up until her sister had already left, validating the theme. Likewise, other passages have their individual themes, take A Different Road  for example, Strout includes an individual theme of how "One needs to cherish everyday because anything can happen". This exemplifies itself in how quickly a normal day turned into a life or death situation for Olive. When at the hospital for a surprise check-up "A tall man holding a rifle" and a "person in a blue ski mask" take her and her husband hostage (113). They end up making it out alive but not after they have guns pointed at their heads and threats made, this external conflict supports the theme associated once more exemplifying how each story has its own theme. However, therein lay the problem for me. I could not help but search for a connection, a vague similarity, I expected that the last story would provide some sense of closure. Unfortunately the last story seems to posses its own theme as well. Not to mention no connecting of the characters or events took place at the end either which I could bear, but still the question keeps nagging me. Without a universal theme, however ambiguous, how can there be a true purpose? So please Elizabeth Strout, drop me a hint here, what did you intend for the universal theme? Unless each individual theme somehow harnesses a purpose which I have yet to ascertain.

Ovations for Olive

During the first third of Elizabeth Strout's 2008 novel Olive Kitteridge I harbored a slight resentment towards the pseudo main character Olive due to her seemingly insensitive behavior. For example, when in the presence of company, her husband Henry accidentally knocks ketchup over, and she sneers: "Leave it alone, Henry. For God's sake" (7). Olive's derisive tone through the commanding diction of "leave it" makes for quite an uncomfortable situation for her guests. Not only does this spout of anger leave her one guest "looking stricken" but it also indirectly characterizes Olive as spastic but it also forms a slightly menacing persona for her (7). Likewise, my disdainful feelings towards Olive arose once again when at her son's wedding a sobbing sister-in-law asked Olive if she cried at weddings to which olive replied "I don't see any reason to cry" (67). The juxtaposition of a seemingly crass Olive against her emotional counterpart furthers Olive's seemingly cold and inhumane persona. Thus, I could not help but hold a standoffish  mentality against Olive and her sheer apathy for others . However, further on in my reading I began to notice my feelings for her evolve into more of an appreciation for her cynical tones and realistic outlooks on life due to signs of her not being so tough and insensitive after all . For instance, when Olive finally spends time with Chris in New York City she could "not let go of a certain happiness inside her" (220). Strout indirectly characterizes Olive as upbeat, dare I say, jovial and she has finally began to shed her persona of a dispassionate hermit. Olive's dynamic character delves into so many levels, but through this "happiness inside her" she seems to embody a characteristic which every other character has had from the beginning: emotion. I can not help but crack a smile knowing Olive finally has something to smile about herself.  Likewise, the unfamiliar personality of Olive arises again when Rebecca recollects that Olive had told her "If you ever want to talk to me about anything", she could (242). The reassuring tone via the friendly diction of "anything" shines Olive in a light unlike any before, Strout interestingly reveals Olive's gentle and compassionate side through another characters story instead of through Olive's own dialogue. Furthermore, Strout indirectly characterizes Olive as benevolent, a characterization which I had never expected to associate with her, especially back during her days as a school teacher. I am now beginning to believe that Olive has a tough exterior but under her thick figure and allegedly horrid dresses lies a warm, wise person enduring a struggle to uphold her facade as a resilient and tenacious woman.

Conservative Charazterization

The main characteristic that makes Elizabeth Strout's 2008 novel Olive Kitteridge shed the visage of a painfully average book would undoubtedly be the vast amount of characters present in the story. Not only does Strout introduce fresh new characters each chapter but she also paints the characters in their own unique image abstractly detailing them within sometimes just a few sentences. Thus, Strout provides the reader with an opportunity to make accurate assumptions about the characters without spending countless pages describing them all. For example, when introducing Henry Kitteridge Strout simply states that he "Retired now" and how he "wakes early as though the world were his secret" (3). Whilst this may not seem like much Strout says so much about Henry's character which I can easily interpret. For instance, the direct characterization of Henry as a retired man indicates he has quite a few years under his belt  which could give me the sense of him as a decrepit old man. However, by including the simile about Henry's mornings seving as "his secret" Strout gives the apparent husband to Olive Kitteridge a slightly whimsical and friendly charm. Furthermore, Strout indirectly characterizes Henry as innocent and almost child-like through having his own little "secret" time alone with the world. Although this might all seem like an opinion, it holds true later on in the story when Henry exemplifies his inferred friendly and innocent persona by  inviting his employees over for dinner, or having the "need to keep everyone content" (4). Likewise Strout's ability to  inadvertently describe a character furthers itself when first discussing how Christopher's new wife Suzanne "will take over...coming from money the way she does" (63). On the surface Strout seems to only indirectly characterize her as wealthy. However by saying this through the often accusatory tone of Olive Kitteridge I am led to infer that she posses the qualities of a spoiled brat. Furthermore, the foreshadowing of Suzannanne "taking over" Christopher's life led me to believe she will act as more of an omen to Olive and Henry rather than a loving daughter-in-law. Again, my inferences thanks to Strout's open-ended characterization of Suzanne as a control freak prove accurate once more when Chris tells his mom that "Suzanne and I are moving to California" (142). Through Strout's ability to develop a persona through only a sentence or two I have come to appreciate the vast amount of characters that I would otherwise detest due to the prospect of memorizing them all.

A beautiful end to a book about, well, a beautiful end.

The end of Kurt Vonnegut's 1963 novel Cat's Cradle left me feeling content but wanting more, not in the sense of the story missing something, but the longing for more of Vonnegut's writing. The story stayed true to it's thematically ironic approach and overall lighthearted yet cynical tone. However, the frequently foreshadowed Apocalypse due to the chemical meant to free soldiers from mud in WWII played out beautifully, entertaining my always high expectations. The description of the world covered in the "poisonous blue-white frost" of ice-nine actually seemed like slightly pretty imagery if you take away the fact that frozen corpses litter the ground (189). Honestly, the place sounds pretty peaceful to me, I would not mind a little scenery change, or some peace and quiet, Vonnegut manages to make the demise of the planet Earth eerily serene. Unlike the modern pop-culture references to a bloody, fiery, damning end to a pathetic humanity which so many movies and books depict, Vonnegut, who even wrote during a time where this outcome could certainly happen, took a different approach, dousing the fear of those reading it by making the end of the book, and the end of the world itself, seem slightly tolerable. Furthermore,  the tone the speaker Jonah uses seems consistently accepting of the doom, and keeping in stride with the book, cynical. For example, Jonah declares that life with the few survivors left on the frozen rock called Earth "had a certain Walt Disney charm" (198). The allusion to the jovial childhood filmmaker gave me a sense that living in a post-apocolyptic wasteland really gets a bad rap and that in Vonnegut's eyes, it can have a "carefree" feeling to it. Thus, the nontraditional depiction of the end times appealed to me in a way that made me want to go hang out with Jonah and his rag-tag gang of misfit survivors, however crazy that may seem. But all in all the ending of the great saga known as Cat's Cradle turned out perfectly. Vonnegut keep the visage of a book centered around mocking the turbulent days of the Cold War and the apocalypse which everyone feared, coloring the then unpredictable and frightening future with a tinge of humor.