Sedaris The Great

“That’s Amore” and “A Plague of Tics” both employ the unique voice, distinctive opinions, and superior style of David Sedaris. Two specific aspects that “That’s Amore”and “A Plague of Tics” have in common are Sedaris’s self-deprecating humour and his ability to help the reader relate to him in a situation that the reader may not have necessarily experienced. Sedaris’s self-deprecating humour is an important distinction within his writing, and Sedaris uses this genuinely to advance his theme. In “That’s Amore,” Sedaris is frequently insulted by Helen but he also allows himself to poke similar fun: “The woman unfurled a few thick fingers, the way you might when working on an equation: 2 young men + 1 bedroom – ugly panelling = fags.” No one said this to Sedaris to insult his own homosexuality; Sedaris purposely used an example that is offensive to his sexual orientation where he easily could have made the same point with an example that was not self-deprecating. Sedaris employs similar tactics in “A Plague of Tics” when describing his Obsessive Compulsive and Tourettic tendencies as a child: “It was a short distance from the school to our rented house, no more than six hundred and thirty-seven steps, and on a good day I could make the trip in an hour, pausing every few feet to tongue a mailbox or touch whichever single leaf or blade of grass demanded my attention. If I were to lose count of my steps, I’d have to return to the school and begin again.” Sedaris does not sugarcoat around the way he behaved, fully admitting the extent of his tendencies that some may view as odd. Sedaris’s self-deprecating humour creates a genuine tone that charges his essays with significant amounts of sentiment. Similarly, Sedaris helps the reader relate to him in situations where the reader may not normally be able to identify with his problems. Most of Sedaris’s readers have not had deep relationships with an old woman who constantly insults them, or have suffered through debilitating tics, but the general themes with which Sedaris applies to these issues are very much relatable. Sedaris allows his readers relate to the broader context of what he experiences, such as meaningful interpersonal relationships in the case of “That’s Amore” or fear of being different like in “A Plague of Tics.” Sedaris’s self-deprecating humour and relatability, both very prominent in “That’s Amore” and “A Plague of Tics” give him one of the most unique and fresh voices in contemporary nonfiction.

Anzaldua, Buckley, & Zinsser

Gloria Anzaldua, William F. Buckley, and William Zinsser all take on the very difficult task: determining and proving the proper way to use language when writing. The three authors take a very different approach, with Buckley and Zinsser taking approaches that directly clash that of each other and Gloria Anzaldua examining the issue from a cultural lense. While Buckley does not necessarily argue that one should definitely use large, obscure words while writing, he does state very clearly that he enjoys using them, and he contends that readers should not criticize such linguistic choices. Zinsser, on the other hand, claims that the usage of such words is unnecessary when there are much shorter, simpler, and more widely known words that convey the same message. Zinsser’s style is characterized by the use of active verbs and simple, Anglo-Saxon nouns, while at all costs avoiding the passive voice and complicated, Latin nouns. Both Buckley and Zinsser approach their contentions in a very sure of self manner, adamant that their conviction regarding effective linguistic choices is correct. Anzaldua however, does not make such claims. In fact, she begins much of her piece with internal oppression. She does blame some of her problems on institutional oppression, on the authorities that force her to speak a certain way, but she takes most of the blame for herself. She at first contends that her language is not widely respected within her culture, and for this reason, there is little unity amongst her fellow Chicanos in the way that is found in many other racial, ethnic, and national groups. However, Anzaldua does not make a claim regarding big, obscure words versus short and simple words: she simply believes that one should put their culture, their soul, into their writing. The theme of honesty to self arises, because Anzaldua hints that in thinking deeply about the word choices that one will use, one is being dishonest. Instead, Anzaldua implies, one should write the true word they feel, rather than determining the best one for their audience, in the way that Zissner does, or for their ego, in the way that Buckley does. In doing so, Anzaldua then embarks on a cultural journey of self-discovery, which ends with total fulfillment regarding her culture: an issue that neither Buckley nor Zissner can even come close to approaching because they are so focused on finding the “best” word.

A Pretentious Piece by a Pretentious Man

William F. Buckley’s “The Conflict Over the Unusual Word” argues that instead of scorning Buckley’s choice to use difficult, obscure words that are unfamiliar to many, his readers should either adapt to the usage of such words or stop reading his piece. Buckley cements his piece with the analogy of a pianist: when he goes to hear a pianist perform but hears many bizarre chords, he will not ask the pianist to cut them out. However, this analogy is flawed and Buckley’s piece is highly pretentious and misguided. If one wants to achieve success as a writer- something Buckley does not have to worry about because he already has- a person must write to their audience, rather than making the life of their audience more difficult and criticizing it. As a writer and journalist myself, I may want to write my pieces a certain way, but I have to put my egoism aside and write what I know my audience will want to read. Buckley fails to grasp this point. He believes that if people do not understand the words he uses, then they simply should not read his pieces rather than complaining about it. Buckley is able to make this bold claim because he is already a prominent writer with an active fanbase. However, his conviction breaks the general norms and ethics that writers should follow, and would certainly not pass if he was a novice in the field. Even worse, Buckley looks down upon the faction of his audience that he is criticizing, implying that they may possess a lower level of intelligence because they do not understand his words. In reality, however, Buckley is probably using very obscure words just for the purpose of seeming intelligent and complicated, rather than using equally effective, simplistic words that could be understood universally, as William Zinsser claims one should in his essay, “Writing English as a Second Language.” Buckley’s conviction that his readers should either adapt to his word choice or quit reading his material rather than complaining about the word choice entirely contradicts another one of his pieces: “Why Don’t We Complain?”. “Why Don’t We Complain” claims that people should not be forced to either adapt or leave when say, on a hot bus or in a movie theater in which the picture is out of focus, but instead that they should complain. So Mr. Buckley, why the change of heart? Did you have a true shift in opinion that warrants explanation? Or are you willing to apply a double-standard for your own convenience when your precious little ego is shattered by some literary criticism?

Words of Wisdom

“The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence.”

 

Description and Voice

The skies are purple as can be. The top layer is a very dark shade of purple, almost blue but definitely purple, something I know as a result of looking at the entire sky rather than this ribbon of it in isolation. A cloudy, marshmallowy, thick white color briefly interrupts the dark purple, but it is barely noticeable. The clouds emerge more between this ribbon of sky and the next, forming a zig-zag line of thick, white, marshmallowy cloud. The next ribbon is slightly smaller in length, for it is interrupted by a triangle of sunny sky that begins on the left of the second ribbon and gradually expands to the point where it constitutes more than half of the final ribbon. However, the second ribbon is a mixture. There is clearly a presence of the brilliant purple that will emerge later, but it is overshadowed by the dark purple from above that sometimes comes to interrupt it. What can be seen below the sky is a shocking yet appropriate contrast to the quiet and serene sky. Maybe it would be worse of the scene below was total chaos, but it’s not so it isn’t. Instead, there are just a few people- maybe a couple of kids, perhaps an adult- going about whatever they see fit. They are not directly acknowledging the magnificent sky above them, but they certainly aren’t unaware of it. The people are surrounded by man-made objects: a trashcan, a couple tables with benches surrounding them, some ugly white fencing far off in the distance. On the opposite end, there appears to be an ordinary building which seems to function as a bathroom. The people and objects are surrounded by an overbearing flora- some huge trees that in one spot actually seem to touch the sky. But the people, objects, and even the flora, undoubtedly mean nothing compared to the sky. After the second ribbon, the sky becomes quite confusing. The brilliant purple is certainly still to come, but it has not quite emerged yet. To the left, closer to the sunny triangle of light, the third ribbon seems to take on the very dark purple from before. However, in the middle, there is a patch of sun and sky and cloud, which gives way to the “brilliant” purple I have to describe that fully forms to the southeast of this patch. However, the right of the third ribbon is simply madness. It is almost a grey purple- it completely lacks the brilliance that is bursting through below. It is almost a dulled down, less magnificent version of the dark purple we started with. The third ribbon is quite white, and clouds interrupt it on multiple negligible occasions. However, it means nothing compared to the fourth ribbon of sky, which is what truly gives this sky and the photograph of it so much meaning. On the left, the triangular portion of the sky that is still white is disrupted by a congested spot of purple thickness that the light sky makes ugly. However, the light triangle still only makes up about a quarter of the sky and brilliance now occurs. The light gives way to a brilliant, bright purple, that is almost too shocking to fully absorb. It shoots upward into the fourth ribbon, and though it constitutes such a small portion of this image, it defines it. It is so priceless, yet so worthless, and it is almost intangible due to its lack of consistency. On the right, it is finished by an ugly patch of grey cloud, something thick and saturated. This is where the sky’s magical beauty ends and realisticality begins. The fifth ribbon of the sky is tiny- the light, triangular portion on the left has so expanded by the final ribbon that it takes up more than half the sky. On the other side, the final ribbon is blocked by the highest trees, the ones that tickle the sky with their dark green furry leaves. The light on the left is so brilliant at one point that it touches the sky and forms a tiny path of orange, that becomes a nice but overly agreeable pink to finish off the beautiful sky. This sky sounds magnificent, as if it occurs in the most beautiful or noticeable place on earth. This is not the case. The people below- while experiencing something special for various reasons- are ordinary people enjoying an ordinary, yet upbeat life. The trees and buildings and tables and benches and trashcans and fences that are so hard to see due to the shocking sky are in truth, their reality, while the sky is just a fantastical remnant of the beautiful day that has occurred. A pole far off in the distance gives off a bright green light that seems to be in the middle of the tree. Unnatural light. Shit. The unnatural light, while not an inherent problem, seems to take away from the brilliant natural light that should dominate the scene. This unnatural light is more tangible, more real to the rushed busybody with his or her eyes only half-open. However, the other individual- the individuals appreciative of beauty- will ignore the unnatural light, recognizing it only as the man-made interruption of beauty it is. He or she will instead stare at the beautiful, purple sky that is starting to fade. This light is harder to understand than the green light and certainly harder to use to guide one’s way. But since such beauty can occur in such a normal setting, the individual who uses the sky to guide his or her way is the one who achieves the most fulfillment that evening. This individual has a sense of purpose and knows not to shy away from a challenge because the experience will be more rewarding in the end. Nature wins.

(Please click on the picture, the bigger version does it much more justice).

REFLECTION/GOALS

I THINK I HAVE DONE A GREAT JOB OF RESPONDING TO YOUR ESSAY FEEDBACK SO FAR THIS YEAR. LOOKING AT THE CORRECTED DRAFTS AND COMMENTS, THE SAME COMMENTS RARELY COME UP ON MY FIRST DRAFT AS ON SUBSEQUENT ONES. ONE WEAKNESS THAT HAS APPEARED FREQUENTLY IS REMAINING OBJECTIVE. IN THE NEW JOURNALISTIC ESSAY, I SOMETIMES LET MY PERSONAL VIEWS ON THE DEATH PENALTY INTERFERE WITH THE STORYTELLING AND I USED THE OBJECTIVE THIRD PERSON NARRATOR TO INFILTRATE MY VIEWS, WHERE I SHOULD HAVE USED THE BIASED FIRST PERSON NARRATORS TO DO SO MORE SUBTLY. IN MY ARGUMENTATIVE ESSAY, I SIMILARLY LET MY INTENSE PASSION ON THE ISSUE ENTER THE ESSAY, AND SOMETIMES THAT CAUSED ME TO SPEAK TO MY AUDIENCE IN A CONDESCENDING WAY, RICH WITH ASSUMPTIONS. LUCKILY, I FOR THE MOST PART ALWAYS ADDRESSED THESE ISSUES THOROUGHLY. ANOTHER COMMENT THAT HAS COME UP A COUPLE TIMES REGARDS MY ORGANIZATIONAL SKILLS, SUCH AS PARAGRAPH BREAKS IN THE NEW JOURNALISTIC ESSAY AND LONG PARAGRAPHS IN THE ARGUMENTATIVE ESSAY. I HAVE IMPROVED ON THIS MOSTLY, THOUGH SOME OF MY PARAGRAPHS REMAINED PRETTY LONG IN THE FINAL DRAFT OF THE ARGUMENT ESSAY. HOWEVER, I ALSO THINK THAT YOUR COMMENTS HAVE ENABLED ME TO MAKE STRIDES AS A WRITER. I HAVE ACHIEVED MANY STRENGTHS, OFTEN RELATING TO THE GOAL OF THE ESSAY. FOR EXAMPLE, IN THE NEW JOURNALISTIC ESSAY I SUCCESSFULLY APPLIED MY KNOWLEDGE OF NEW JOURNALISM TO CREATE COOL PERSPECTIVE SHIFTS AND IN THE ARGUMENT ESSAY, MY DATA DID A GREAT JOB OF WARRANTING MY CLAIM. FOR THIS REASON, I BELIEVE I HAVE SUCCEEDED IN THESE WRITING STYLES. ANOTHER STRENGTH CONTINUES TO BE MY POLISH: I HAVE A VERY STRONG COMMAND OF THE VERY INTRICATE RULES OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. MY PRIMARY GOAL FOR THE SECOND SEMESTER IS TO MASTER OTHER STYLES OF WRITING: I HAVE DONE WELL WITH FLASH FICTION AND PERSUASION, BUT I AM EXCITED TO EXPLORE DESCRIPTION AND VOICE, AND ALSO MAYBE EXPLORE NEW TYPE OF ANALYTICAL ESSAY. ALSO, I WOULD LIKE TO WORK ON PICKING A VERY SPECIFIC AUDIENCE AND ADDRESSING SAID AUDIENCE IN THE MANNER MOST APPROPRIATE TO CONVEY MY POINTS. FINALLY, I WOULD LIKE TO USE MY ADVANTAGES AS THE SPAKER MORE TO MAKE MY ESSAY AS EFFECTIVE AS POSSIBLE. I BELIEVE THAT IF I ACHIEVE THESE GOALS, MY WRITING CAN CONTINUE TO CAPITALIZE ON MY STRENGTHS WHILE ALSO IMPROVING MY PRESENT WEAKNESSES.

Seeing

The tinted color you spark while under the light sends a message of innocence, maybe even beauty. You bind together so flawlessly, and emphasize your images that are inviting, so as to say “come inside,” and maybe even fun. However, the snowcapped mountains and sunlight depicted on you along with the fancy names and credentials do not fool me. I know what you did, do, and will continue to do. I know that you mercilessly torture millions of people and that you are unable to feel any emotion after you do this. I do not see regret or sympathy, but at the same time I do not see merciless enjoyment from the pain you cause. The latter is hidden, I cannot see it, but I know it is there. You hide it so well with everything else I see: the calligraphy is nothing short of divine. Is it intentional, how the yellow so beautifully contrasts the blue, and the blue slowly fades into the white, avoiding an abrupt transition? Of course it is. I see that, I see through you. I see hints of brown, undoubtedly a result of overuse. Maybe people should just stop using you; I see what you promise to offer, but I cannot see the terrible expense at which that offer is made. But from experience, from seeing what is actually inside you rather than just on the glorified outside, it is there. At the top I see even bigger wear and tear, and some scribbles. However I have not yet truly ventured inside. As I enter, I see all of the glorified colors and calligraphy on the outside, and now they are gone. On the inside, I see a lot- but I cannot make out what I see. Sometimes I see items similar to what I see on the outside, but these are not as glorified; the colors are not as radiant and are not inviting. Then again, they do not need to be, because you have already accomplished your goal by inviting me in. I now see mostly black and white, and everything is better aligned, more organized and crotchety. Although you have not managed to fool me, you have managed to torture me like you tortured everyone else, just because of what I have seen, and the contrast between what you depict on the outside and what truly lies within.

Extended Metaphor in “Total Eclipse”

The extended metaphor of mining plays a significant role in Annie Dillard’s “Total Eclipse.” Dillard’s essay describes her experience watching a total eclipse in Washington, and the events both leading up to and following this experience. Throughout the essay, Dillard uses various extended symbols and metaphors to describe her experience and one of these is the concept of mining. On page 87, Dillard describes an article about mining that she reads in a magazine while in her hotel room the night before the eclipse: “The gold mines extend so deeply into the earth’s crust that they are hot. The rock walls burn the miners’ hands…when the miners return to the surface, their faces are deathly pale.” This article paints a picture of the mining life characterized by hardship and danger, which is a symbol of some of the emotions she is feeling regarding her plan to watch the eclipse. If not viewed properly, eclipses can be very dangerous, and they also provide a very emotional journey for many witnesses. This journey is made manifest later in the essay when Dillard lets the reader into her emotions and thoughts while viewing the eclipse. Dillard is about to endure a major event, often described as life-changing, and it would be unnatural if she did not feel some fear beforehand. The second mention of mining is reflective, described on page 93 after Dillard has revealed her experience with the eclipse: “Why burn our hands anymore than we have to? But two years have passed; the price of gold has risen. I return to the same buried alluvial beds and pick through the strata again.” Mining is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as “the process of digging a tunnel under a wall, fort, etc., so as to cause its collapse; (in later use chiefly) the science or industry of extracting metal, coal, etc., from a mine.” Dillard’s reference to gold implies real mining, as when Dillard returns to the eclipse sight she wishes to pick through the stone and other natural elements of her setting. However, her wish to “pick through the strata” also represents her desire to reflect on her experience and receive some answers as to what truly happened while she was viewing the eclipse. Dillard’s discussion of mining not only represents her fear preceding her eclipse experience, but also the whirlwind of emotion and confusion that she experiences afterward and her desire to return a few years later, when it would seem as though her experience was over, to “pick through the strata” again and get a new perspective on her journey.

Death of a (not the) Moth

Where Virginia Woolf discussed the death of the moth, Annie Dillard writes a similar piece detailing the death of a moth. The title of Dillard’s piece is paradoxical: it implies singularity, yet the piece itself actually discusses many moths. However, her decision to use “a” rather than “the” resolves this paradox. Woolf focuses on one specific moth: hence becoming the moth. However, Dillard’s decision to discuss many different moths gives the moths a sense of obscurity, or irrelevance in that “more is less,” which is why these moths are not important enough to be “the” moths and instead are each “a” moth. Dillard’s theme, like Woolf’s, is the temporality of life. Each of the moths Woolf describes dies so quickly, yet they leave no legacy. No one seeks to learn about the moths that die, because moth death is such a common occurrence. Dillard employs a strategy to convey the meaninglessness that follows a moth’s death that, in my opinion, backfires. Woolf details life’s fragility by exploding a moment, in which she takes five pages to describe the quick yet ultimately meaningless death of one moth. It is likely that Dillard read Woolf’s piece and was inspired, and felt as though another way to convey the meaninglessness that is associated with the deaths of these moths would be to describe repeated moth deaths. Within one piece, Dillard watches and details the deaths of so many moths, yet none of them receive any recognition or focus apart from what Dillard provides. Dillard feels as though by detailing so many moths, she conveys how often moths die yet leave no legacy, feeling as though she expanded upon what she felt to be Woolf’s brilliance. However, her plan backfired. Because Woolf described the death of one moth in so much detail, she proved her point. While the reader grows attached to this one moth because it is described so much, it dies and will likely never be thought of or recognized by anyone ever again. However, because Dillard describes so many different moths, none of the moths’ stories leave an impression on me and her piece truly ends up feeling like a collection of anecdotes with no purpose, even though this is not what she was aiming for. I disliked Woolf’s piece when I first read it: I cited the language as beautiful but said I could not relate to or become engaged by the exploded moment. However, Dillard’s trainwreck of an argument made me appreciate Woolf’s piece. Woolf beautifully traces the story of one moth, which I feel attached to by the end of the story. At the same time, Woolf was able to make her point with the one moth, because although I was attached to it, no one else ever will be. Dillard on the other hand, had an easier storyline to follow yet bored me by the end, and gave me the impression of both having an inflated sense of self-importance while also trying to be “artsy.” The moth wins over a moth, or more appropriately stated, many moths.

The Death of the Moth

Virginia Woolf’s “The Death of a Moth” explodes a moment, describing the process by which a moth dies. On the surface, the subject of this piece is very specific and limited: a moth dies a quick, meaningless death after being unable to fight a large plough. However, the moth and its death are symbols for something much greater: the temporality of life. So many individuals take life for granted, and they do not realize that it can be gone within a moment. Although the moth’s death seems like a slow and drawn-out process because of Woolf’s writing, the moth truly dies within a matter of seconds and this can and often does happen to humans in the same way. The essay initially appears as a creative, descriptive piece, however one could argue that Woolf has a purpose for writing, that she is making an argument. Woolf is making an argument: she uses the moth as a symbol for life and uses the moth’s death as a catalyst for proving to the reader how short and fragile life is. Some believe that life is long and practically endless, but Woolf successfully proves that life is short and can be destroyed within seconds.