Off the Wall February 2013 by Off The Wall

campus guide to fossil fuels 6

ernest hemingway, a self-centered dick no more 19

sexuality and snow 5

Katie Powell

otw

Off the Wall February 2013

Yuka Takemon

We hope, You enjoy. Thank You, Thank You.

Editorsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Note

Snow, Outside. Us, Inside. You, Reading. This, pieces of paper. With words. With pictures. With meaning?

Musings Where were you this evening, as snow softly fell? Hunkered down, wrapped in literary blankets, I suppose. KATE UNKEL

Talking Gender (The Beginning) BY ZABET NEUCOLLINS

was on the bus, hidden in a corner in the back. The title was covered so no one would know what I was reading: Cunt, A Declaration of Independence. A feminist manifesto urging my middle-school self to find a hand-mirror and some time. This is less a reflection than a revelation, a bunch of feelings taut from COA’s recent discussion about oppression towards women. I am a feminist, raised in rural Iowa. I know cornfields and Catholics like no tomorrow. My high school was a stereotypical American high school, one of those you see in the movies. Jocks, football, band-nerds. And let me tell you one thing, gender was not discussed at my school. Like most everyone, we were taught in co-ed classrooms, given the same opportunities as all the boys, and raised to believe that we were equal. The wage gap seemed trivial – not at all indicative of lingering antagonism towards women. To label yourself as a feminist literally meant to be a brazen woman, touting old resentments, hating men. Perhaps you understood why I taped the title? It bothers me, how my school, my town, and even on occasion, my family, perpetuated these social norms. In truth, it wasn’t until I came to COA did I begin to battle with these topics, question my own identity and the identity of others, and start engaging in discussions on what it meant to be a woman. One of these discussions happened last Sunday, and was the first in a series of events planned around

“V-Day”, a worldwide campaign to end violence against women. Heath Cabot and Anjali Appadurai facilitated a conversation about violence towards women on both a global and local scale. The discussion was widely attended – approximately 30 people, including three faculty members, were there. Topics ranged from the widespread protests in India that erupted from a recent gang rape, to personal experiences, to what it means to be called a victim, to how we can continue this dialogue. I can’t accurately describe what went on inside that room because there were so many powerful veins of thought running through that circle. I took notes, but looking back, they are a scatter of words, blotted here and there as I listened to a particularly moving, vivid, or thoughtprovoking point. The one thing that I can say is I’m grateful it happened. So many of us took the time out of our weekend to talk – just talk – even though we are, as Suzanne said, from College of the Frantic. We created a space in which we could both listen and share. Above all, that was the most important aspect of the afternoon. I’ve never been to a place like this one. I’m not trying to ring COA’s bell, to exclaim over its virtues, but it’s always surprising to me how completely different this is to my high school and hometown. I’ve never been a place where I can share and be comfortable sharing, and ultimately, I guess that is all I want to say – thank you. Thank you so much for coming and sending us all encouraging e-mails along the way. I hope to see you at the next discussion, this Sunday from 2 – 4pm. We will be discussing how to engage with violence and oppression in our own lives, especially with art, performance, and the written word.

Maggie Maiorana

BY KRISTEN OBER

Short Fiction

Quizás Llegaremos al Porvenir

La mujer me dijo que el porvenir no viene. Pero yo percibo que llegará en algún momento. Una bella mañana despertare y será mañana. Pero no hoy día, si no, mañana. Entonces ocurrirán cosas – cosas maravillosas. Quizás tenga un día para ser lo que quiera, sin que nadie este observando, aunque eso sería pedir demasiado del porvenir. Quizás se encuentra al final del recorrido del muelle, donde vagando, descubro que el camino curva como una culebra roja, donde creo yo, llega al final del mundo. Quizás la isla de la alegría este ahí. Estoy segura que la isla de la alegría esta en algún lugar, donde todos los barcos que no regresan están anclados, y los encontrare cuando llegue el porvenir. Cuando llegue mañana tendré un millón de perros y cuarenta y cinco gatos. Cuando llegue mañana caminare hasta esa estrella, un faro en la tierra de las hadas. Y en la noche veré un ángel caminar por el mundo… es un gran, colosal, ángel blanco, con alas plateadas… y canta a las flores y aves al reposar. Los pequeños pueden oírlo si saben cómo prestar atención. En el porvenir nos iremos en la luna nueva, un pequeño barco lleno de sueños. Mañana, las violetas son minúsculos cortes del cielo que han caído cuando los ángeles recortaron espacios para que las estrellas puedan brillar. Y bueno, si pudiéramos llegar al porvenir, quien sabe lo que encontráriamos. Ángeles en todas partes, quizás.

Zuri de Souza

N/A OR "I DON'T LIKE LABELS" 6% "CREATIVE" RESPONSE 5%

ISN'T EVERYONE? 4%

NOT THAT I KNOW OF (YET) 7%

Survey

A Question or Two (or Three)? are you bisexual/ queer/sexually fluid/ etc.? “Gay Gay Gay” “Try-sexual. I try to be sexual.” “I wonder what you mean by etc.”

have you have spent a winter in bar harbor yet? THE FIRST 7%

should we (the college) divest from fossil fuels? NEED MORE INFO 5%

NO 13%

SURE/ PROBABLY 4%

NO 2%

“Absolutely. No pain, all gain.” “It is disgraceful that we haven’t done so already.”

BY EMILY HOLLYDAY, LUCAS BURDICK, AND BRONWYN CLEMENT

The Context Given the present climate crisis, divesting is morally and politically just. Divesting is also reinvesting and doesn’t mean we lose any money or raise anyone’s tuition. Currently one million, of our 35 million dollar endowment, is invested in three or four fossil fuel companies including Apache Corp., Noble Energy and Petrobas. This money could easily, and perhaps more profitably, be invested into companies unrelated to fossil fuels.

The Call To Action Like most everything on campus, it started with an email. One week before the winter Board of Trustees meeting, Lucas Burdick sent out a call to action to about thirty students he thought might join him in a last-minute campaign to convince the board to divest from fossil fuels. Expecting only a handful of responses, he was surprised to find twenty-one messages in his inbox. Another email was sent opening the idea to input from the rest of the student body and a whole rag-tag team assembled.

The Petition This group of students pooled their time and resources to research, discuss, petition, and educate the community about their proposal, all in a few days. To request the trustee’s support, they wrote a petition which stated, “We [the COA students] find it immoral to remain financially and symbolically invested in fossil fuel companies.” In a matter of days, signatures were collected from 216 students, representing roughly 75% of the student body currently on campus!

350.ORG

Campus Guide to Fossil Fuels

COA Divestment: The Play by Play of a Week-Long Campaign

The Board Meeting One week after Lucas’ initial e-mail, a subgroup presented the appeal to the Board of Trustees Investment Committee explaining that divestment is reinvestment in better alternatives and that fossil-fuel stocks are under-performing anyway. They presented the petition to help prove the student body supported the idea. There was a discussion about priority, about morality, about the college’s mission, and about the impact for the bottom line. Many trustees were enthusiastic about divestment and were ready to immediately approve the idea. Instead it was decided a smaller group would look into the idea and bring it to the full board again in April; let the idea percolate for a month or two. On Saturday, at the full board meeting, it was decided that it was important to have the chair of the board, Dan Pierce, present for the decision as well. Yet it is possible too that these things – such as a final vote – can happen electronically, and perhaps much sooner than April.

Responsible Investment While the campaign may have seemed brief and spontaneous, socially responsible investing is not a new conversation at COA. The Prudent Investing Group (PIG) has been critically investigating the college’s investment portfolio since the fall before last. The student group continues to advocate for socially and environmentally responsible investments. Of course, responsible investment (or divestment in this case) should not compromise our commitment to educate students and fairly compensate staff and faculty. Although divestment from fossil fuels is a terrific start, many students think we need to look holistically at our investment portfolio. We also need to ensure that divesting from fossil fuels means investing in ethical companies, perhaps in renewable energies. Hiring a money manager with a background in Environmental, Social Governance (ESG) is the next item on PIG’s agenda.

We Are One Of Many COA is one of 234 colleges working on divestment campaign and using 350.org’s “divestment toolkit” as a guide. Part of the toolkit is a list of the top 200 fossil fuel companies to recognize fossil fuel companies within our financial portfolio. We are far from the first college to join this initiative but we may be one of the first to completely divest from fossil fuels. A few colleges have committed to divesting yet due to the large amount they have invested in these companies, they will not fully divest for a couple of years. We can move quickly because we are a small college and because we have an administration open to student input in financial decisions. In an update for 350.org, Lucas wrote, “An amicable administration, thoughtful trustees, and good faith negotiations are seldom elements of the stories told by student organizers. What COA’s one week divestment campaign shows is that we are not demanding the impossible of our Colleges.”

Still Don’t Get It? Divestment 101 To help run an institution, a college for example, investments are made – in stocks, bonds, etc. – in the hopes of making money. Divestment is the opposite – it means getting rid of stocks, bonds, and all other invested funds, usually those that are unethical or amoral. Divesting from fossil fuels means taking our money away from Big Oil companies such as, in our case, Apache Corp. and Noble Energy Inc. Most famously, divestment was used as a technique to weaken the apartheid government in South Africa in the mid 1980s. It has also been used against big tobacco companies and other types students believe don’t deserve our dollars and cents.

We Don’t Want Pipelines! BY BECCA HAYDU

ast weekend, I was among a group of College of the Atlantic students who, along with some 1,500 others, gathered in Portland, Maine to rally against the proposal to reverse an existing pipeline to bring tar sands oil from Montreal to Portland. This 62 year old pipeline, which currently transports regular crude from Portland to Montreal, would reverse the flow to bring tar sands oil east. One of the main concerns is the effect on waterways: the pipeline hugs many rivers in northern New England, passes the shores of Lake Sebago – Portland’s source of drinking water – and end’s in Casco Bay. Not only is there concern that the bitumenoil mix will quickly corrode the out-of-date pipeline, Exxon doesn’t deny that spills will happen, they just claim they will be small enough to effectively deal with. It was my first experience at a rally like this, and it was wonderful to see so many come out to show their support. The event began with music from members of the Penobscot Nation followed by a series of speakers representing groups from across New England, including farmers, students, politicians, and environmental groups. After gathering at Monument Square, the march headed to the docks. As we moved through the streets of Portland holding signs and chanting against the tar

sands, people peered out from shop windows, watched and took photos of us from the sidewalks. If nothing else, the event did something to raise awareness. One of the highlights of the day was meeting Jill Stein, the 2012 Green Party presidential candidate. Stein spoke at the opening of the rally to show her support for a green energy future and a Tar Sandsfree Northeast. The Green Party presence at the rally was strong, and it was exciting to see a presidential candidate marching along in an environmental protest. After spending hours marching in the bitter cold surrounded by like-minded folks, my first environmental rally came to an end. Despite the environmental destruction at stake, and the freezing temperatures in Portland that day, there was no shortage of smiles, positivity, and humor among students at the rally. I was left with a motivation to continue learning about and exploring the world of environmental activism, as well as some questions about what our place in this mess really is. Overall, I felt fortunate to have participated in this event with passionate people of all ages. I hope that the efforts of this day, in combination with activist work across the globe, helps more people to question the way we treat our planet and each other, and to shift their focus towards creating a more just and sustainable world.

Rachel Wells

Reprinted with Permission

Uccupy North East

After Rally ... BY BEN HITCHCOCK

s the speeches on the pier were coming to an end, and most of the crowd had dispersed, I left with a couple of other folks who were headed to Local Sprouts (Portland’s Organic Worker’s Cooperative Café). We meandered through the streets that we had just marched down and watched as they returned to their normal state of flowing traffic and open storefronts. We discussed the “pluses” and “deltas” (ups and downs) of the march and rally: impressed by the turn out of 1,500 protesters in the bitter cold, disappointed by the lack of better media coverage or a more cohesive voice. Upon entering Local Sprouts we were greeted by so many familiar smiles of fellow activists from across New England: acquaintances from the Common Ground Fair, Occupy Mainers, Jill Stein and her cohort of Greens. The café was transformed into a post-rally space for recovery and reflection. I walked over to Jill’s table and, within a single minute, we had a rapid-fire conversation about drones, campus organizing, student debt, the failure of electoral politics and what seemed like a dozen other things. I invited her to Occupy New England’s impromptu regional assembly that afternoon with no expectation that the former presidential candidate would actually come. The rag-tag group of friends, acquaintances and comrades made its way over to the Sacred Heart Church where Food Not Bombs had kindly agreed to cater the gathering. As 4pm approached, the church basement swelled with one hundred occupiers (plus Jill Stein) representing assemblies in Vermont, New Hampshire,

Maine, and Massachusetts. Many folks introduced themselves by their multiple identities, such as “Hey, I’m Dave, I’m from Rising Tide Vermont and the Burlington General Assembly” or “I’m Lisa, and I’m from Occupy Maine and 350 Maine.” After some mingling and embracing we decided to break out into smaller working groups to discuss everything from local food sovereignty, to how to build a stronger regional network, to solidarity with Idle No More, social media, anti-Nestle organizing in southern Maine, crafting a more populist climate message and how to bring some direct-democratic energy to the mainstream environmental movement. Email lists were generated, future actions were planned, and any frustrations I had with the weak points of the rally had been overcome by the active and positive energy that filled that church basement. Nightfall set-in and I caught a ride back to the island with Micaela, a single mom, union nurse and MDI occupier. As we drove north through the dark, she reflected on her life as an activist from her involvement in civil rights, to feminism, anti-war, occupy and the environmental work. She told me that for the first time in her life she couldn’t imagine what the next decade looked like, not just in her personal life but in our globalized world of ever pervasive technology and a rapidly changing climate. I sat and chewed on that thought for a long time... So anyway, to answer the question that has so often been posed to me: that’s why I missed the Aurora Ballealis for the second year in a row!

Enbridge BY NIMISHA BASTEDO

he Portland rally on January 26th does not and cannot stand alone. While we try to prevent Tar Sands oil from entering the Northeast, and the battle against the Keystone XL continues, the Alberta tar sands still show no sign of defeat. Over a million barrels of the world’s dirtiest crude oil continue to be extracted every day. Even if Canada can’t send its oil south to the US, there’s still the option of exporting it west to Asia. The Conservative government continues to push for Enbridge’s grand proposal: The Northern Gateway Project, a 1,170kms pipeline to take tar sands oil to the north coast of British Columbia for export. Like many other proposed (and existing) pipelines, this project is not a gateway to ‘prosperity for all’ as Enbridge suggests, but merely a gateway to more environmental, social, and cultural destruction. The Gateway project would have devastating environmental impacts. If the project goes ahead, there will be approximately 30% more dirty oil being extracted that the current daily average. According to the Pembina Institute, this increased demand would require 460 km2 of forest would be converted to toxic wasteland over the course of the project. Species such as the caribou and the whooping crane are already at risk in the area,

Rebecca Haydu

increased habitat destruction could push them to extinction. Additionally, oil extraction and processing requires vast quantities of water and in Alberta most of this water supply comes from the Athabasca River, a crucial source of fresh water for many ecosystems and communities. The project has huge environmental consequences at the ‘receiving end’ as well. The Queen Charlotte Straight is known globally for its important marine animal habitat. To export the oil, supertanker ship traffic off BC’s coast would increase dramatically, exposing the area to serious risk of oil spills. This is a scary thought, especially since Transport Canada and the Canadian Coast Guard haven’t reviewed their ability to respond to an oil spill for over ten years. The Straight is also crowded with islands and the channels are far too narrow and winding to accommodate tanker traffic (Enbridge is currently in a lawsuit over plan maps which excluded hundreds of islands to make the channel appear more navigable). For members of the many west coast First Nations, the Gateway Project not only endangers their environment, but also their social and cultural integrity. The words of Ernie Hill, Chief of the Gitga’at Nation, are similar to those from Native American groups all along other proposed pipeline routes:

...cont. “Even with sophisticated safety precautions, shipping accidents still occur. Mechanical failure or human error, the outcomes are the same for our culture and our territory. The oil spills over our elders, our children, our spirit bears and killer whales.” The route that is planned for the pipeline crosses through the territory of eight different First Nations groups. Although Enbridge promises to employ local people, the long-term negative impacts for the communities outweigh any short-term gain. Fishing, for example, is an essential aspect of their livelihoods and the pipeline would only intensify ongoing habitat loss. For the local First Nations, the animals are their brothers and sisters and they represent aspects of creation in the people’s oral history. Putting habitats at risk is therefore a direct insult to their culture. Many Canadians and our beloved government falsely believe that developing the tar sands is essential for the Canadian economy. The Northern Gateway pipeline

would allow access to the growing Asian and Pacific Rim markets, which, according to Enbridge, would boost Canada’s GDP by $270 billion over the course of the next 30 years. But is it worth it? Like the rest of the pipeline plans that are sprouting up across the continent, barging ahead with Enbridge’s Northern Gateway Project would have more than just a local impact; it should have the rest of the globe concerned as well. The company boasts it will pump 525,000 barrels of oil through the pipeline per day. Once the oil is burned, that’s an extra 6.5 megatonnes of greenhouse gas emissions into the atmosphere each year – the same as putting 1.6 million more cars on the road. If the government of Canada continues to throw its doors open to Enbridge (or ExxonMobil, or anyone else for that matter), it is like setting out the welcome mat for disastrous climate change. And so this battle must continue – from coast to coast, New England to British Columbia, and everywhere in between.

Becca Haydu

a snail Poetry

i read that a snail can secrete a special mucus that acts as a storm door, sealing it up for months or even years rolling a rock over the entrance to its cave, and its heart beats just a few times each minute. i wonder, does time itself then slow down? does each circuit of blood bring its internal seasons to a crawl, thus tricking the seconds into blinks, held down by bottomless glancesâ&#x20AC;&#x201C; how long, i wonder, does it take for an eye to close with sleep? - ELOISE SCHULTZ

Laura Sieger

Fifty-Three Minutes until Two Thousand and Thirteen I sit on a washboard, my hands reaching for the crawfish that Frances scooped out from the creek. remember that? years back, ages, eras. Once, my father took my hand in his and said he never thought heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d make it to now. One day, he said calmly, with a twitch in his palm, I would look back at my age, and realize that time drifted through. But Frances and I -we were imprinted and rippling, mirrored from the ocean, crashing on the shore, our translucent bodies shivering from the waterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d stream. When we dried, we sat on the banks of a river and went fishing. Her skin freckled in the sun as we soaked our mouths with questions, and my skin turned brown when she looked the other way. But that was a different time. I am on the washboard now, my hands creaking for salt water, needing that oil to move to bleed. remember? years back, I watched her, Frances, plunge her hand into the water, emerge triumphant, A struggling crawfish threaded in her jaws. - Z. B. NEUCO

Rachel Wells

untitlted there is no “next winter” there is no more dust and sand to take our places no more bunk beds no more waiting until everyone else is asleep just colder-than-usual mornings no headaches this time no tobacco maybe some cottage on a barren island maybe icy steps in Montreal until then I’ll write my number on these matches and hope you’ll take up smoking - BOGDAN ZYMKA

One moment She feeds on the tea of attachment and fear Steeped in waters of this borrowed moment, We flutter thinking we own our path. She sees child broken Irak, The ants bathe, feast on his blood, Mothers wail like wounded tigers, dignity stripped. In Washington they cry: Freedom! Freedom ran and hid, We think we own They think they own Seeking constantly, find, capture Tea will evaporate before we can catch the smile Suffering for love is like suffering for having the sky. We can only be certain that love is owned by this moment, And this moment hugged the ant as she tasted love. - JULIAN GIGME

Yuka Takemon

Goodbye They yell at the wind They cry to the wind Chaos, chaos, chaos The voices disappear The sirens continue It rings and rings Looking around, smoke from the chimney Now they are gone Ashes, ashes, ashes - ANONYMOUS

Presence What I have to give, I give LARGELY, with passion Ever desirous to shift that evolutionary paradigm NOW Not in time This life is short.

Tender Spirit Skipping rope one summer night, Catching stars within my arc, I spot a plane twinkling silently â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;cross the heavens, And feel my nubile tenderness wishing Untold mysteries of exotic realms. - KATE UNKEL

Unknown

Winter Happiness Snowy days of stunning beauty. Food of the soul they satisfy me. Fill in the cracks left by absences and disappointments. Vivid sunsets of HOT purple orange red pink and yellow.... The stark crystalline black branches Dividing the sky from the white meadow below Amidst the snow coated evergreens the many flakes wink their history. Only their whispers and the sound of my skis to keep me company. Simple pleasures, exactly what I need. - CARLY SEGAL

Months to Midnight No one writes of these solemn times When the night from without falls down On doors once guarded with life, now cold From fire’s slow-fading glow Illumination falls one shadow, dust, and dirt A life’s worth of photographs – with smiles and tears Now blurred and lost to us for evermore And saddened eyes look down upon (and try their best to discern) A person, true and true, whose spark is gone but whose body Rises anew

- KRISTEN WEGNER (inspired by her work as a CNA)

12 Hour Play Production

Andre Tufenkian

Ernest Hemingway, A Self-Centered Dick No More (director’s title) BY KRISTEN WEGNER AND IAN MEDEIROS

DIRECTED BY KATE YOUNG ACTED OUT BY ANOUK DE FONTAINE, CHLOE CEKADA, GINA SABATINI, AND MARISSA GILMOUR

Act 1: In the Morning HEMINGWAY: [goes to the window and takes a long HEMINGWAY: [shouting, a bit drunk] Is that cake done yet? PAULINE: [from the kitchen] No! We don’t need it until this evening.

drink from a wine bottle] Hemingway would have published something by now if you hadn’t made us move to Maine. The weather here freezes any ideas before they’ve had time to dry on the page.

HEMINGWAY: That guy from the Islander will be here by five! What’s his name again? Melville, Milton....

PAULINE: Maybe you would have published something if every manuscript wasn’t the same thing. Nobody wants to read about sex and alcohol any more! Ain’t nobody got time for that.

PAULINE: Morton! And you’d better sober up before he gets here! I don’t want this to be like the last time.

HEMINGWAY: Hemingway does! And what do you know about writing, anyway? You are, after all...

HEMINGWAY: [missing the second part of her statement] Oh, that’s right. Morton. His writing is the worst.

PAULINE: I’ve heard this before

PAULINE: [interrupting him] And you need publicity for the new book.

[A smash can be heard from the kitchen. Pauline storms out.] HEMINGWAY: Don’t tell Hemingway that there’s been some disaster in the kitchen...

20 [Hemingway walks towards kitchen.] HEMINGWAY: [sniffs the air] Pauline, tell me you’re not making a vanilla cake. Hemingway has told you that Hemingway prefers chocolate. PAULINE: What’s wrong with a vanilla cake? You’re just trying to be a big fat Hemingway, aren’t you, you little Hemingwaying sack of Hemingway. You treat me as if I am nothing but a Hemingway, Hemingway... All you ever think about is Hemingway. You know what? Hemingway you! Hemingway you to Hell! HEMINGWAY: (laughs) Those are some harsh words. Get them all out before Morrison arrives. It won’t do for the reporter to see you... deranged. PAULINE: Derangement? That is what you think this is? HEMINGWAY: Hemingway can’t see any other reason for this outburst. It’s ridiculous. PAULINE: [Her anger having receded, but still with strong will] Ridiculous, you say? You’ve never, ever stopped to suppose that perhaps its Hemingway that’’s ridiculous, have you? You’re a ridiculous, pathetic Hemingway, and I have borne all I can of you. [Pauline begins to exit] HEMINGWAY: Your coquettish behavior begins to bore Hemingway. You know Hemingway can have Hemingway’s choice of any woman after you. With any luck, she’d be smarter... And better at cooking. [Looks into the kitchen to see cause of initial crash, a broken vanilla bottle.] HEMINGWAY: God, Hemingway hates that stuff. What is that? Fair-trade and organic vanilla? Hemingway doesn’t care about trade’s fairness. Why should Hemingway give a Hemingway about people in Madagascar pollinating orchid flowers with bamboo paintbrushes? FEMALE VOICE FROM THE KITCHEN: Well I do! [Hemingway and Pauline both turn]

XANATH: I’m an ancient Mesoamerican goddess. Who are you? [They stare blankly at her.] XANATH: A long time ago I was transformed into the vanilla plant. Every so often, though, I live in my human form for a while. It keeps life interesting. PAULINE: I’ve had enough of this! [She walks out the other door] [An errant shell approaches with a screech. It explodes outside. Hemingway looks out the window.] HEMINGWAY: That’s unfortunate. She was as courageous as any woman can be. XANATH: You didn’t answer my question. HEMINGWAY: [ Sits. Takes another long drink. Sets the bottle down, then reconsiders. Takes another long drink. Takes another long drink.] Hemingway. You’re pretty hot. [He passes out in the chair.] XANATH: Oh... Oh. Hemingway...

Act 2: Afternoon of the Same Day [Hemingway wakes up and sees Xanath reading.] HEMINGWAY: Have you made lunch already? XANATH: I can scarcely say you’ve been hospitable enough to deserve that sort of treatment... HEMINGWAY: A goddess, you said? Perfect metaphor. Well then, I am a god. Perhaps I can demonstrate... XANATH: You are no god. You are an Ernest Hemingway who smells like whiskey and cigars. HEMINGWAY: Yes. Well, let’s not talk now. Hemingway is hungry. Thirsty, too. Hemingway saw some wine left in the basement. There’s a bullfight in Bangor tonight. Pauline was to go with Hemingway. Pauline is now in pieces on the lawn. You may come.

PAULINE: You didn’t even wait for me to leave before you brought another woman into my house?... into my kitchen!

XANATH: Bullfight...? I am a vegan.

HEMINGWAY: [startled] Hemingway... Hemingway really doesn’t know who that is. This time.

XANATH: I don’t believe you know what a vegan is...

[A woman in a green dress open the kitchen door]. PAULINE AND HEMINGWAY: Who the Hemingway/Hell are you?

HEMINGWAY: Then you should enjoy it.

HEMINGWAY: Tell me. XANATH: I don’t believe in harming animals. [Hemingway is confused. He hurt himself in his confusion.]

Maya Critchfield HEMINGWAY: There is no glory without bloodshed. In the end, I believe Pauline understood that. XANATH: [impatiently] We can discuss this later. I think I do have some food for you... [Xanath walks away and retrieves a bowl, into which she secretly pours something from a vial.]

HEMINGWAY: Why, yes, I think so... XANATH: And which is of more worth, my mind or body? HEMINGWAY: Your mind is greater. What sort of question is this?... Why are you asking? XANATH: You’re not the Hemingway they think you are at home. Oh no, no, no.

XANATH: [to herself] This ought to do the trick... [Knocks heard] [Hemingway eats.] HEMINGWAY: This is pretty good food, though it’s missing something. Where’s the meat? [He passes out. Again.]

XANATH: I believe the reporter is here... Pity you didn’t get to brush your teeth or change out of your puke-soaked attire. Hurry, answer it!

Act 3: A Few Hours Later [Xanath exits; Morton enters.] XANATH: Hemingway, your interview is in only a few minutes; wake up... [Hemingway grunts and rises up from the table.] HEMINGWAY: Interview? Oh, that... XANATH: I think you may find that there will be more to speak of during it than you expect. Do you feel.. Odd at all? HEMINGWAY: No. XANATH: Are you sure?... Tell me, quickly: am I intelligent?

HEMINGWAY: If it isn’t for whom the doorbell tolls! MORTON: (alarmed at Hemingway’s appearance) Uh... Good evening, sir. I thought we had an interview appointment? HEMINGWAY: We do. MORTON: (Cautiously) I.. I am glad I was not mistaken. May I sit? HEMINGWAY: Yes. MORTON: Mr. Hemingway, please tell me of your new work.

22 HEMINGWAY: Don’t ask about that. That book is a crying shame.

HEMINGWAY: I see that even small-town media holds the deep prejudices and utterly unjustifiable suspicion characteristic of the world at large.

MORTON: Why ever not? [Hemingway pauses to think and grows worried.] HEMINGWAY: The biography I plan upon writing will be much better. MORTON: A new book already slated? Who do you plan to write about?... Jack Daniels or Jim Beam? HEMINGWAY: Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony? MORTON: You can’t mean the suffragette!?

HEMINGWAY: Xanath, are you still here? Please tell me what’s happened to me! Why, I’m no longer talking in the third person, I am nearly sober and have no urge to imbibe more alcohol, and I’ve only smoked four cigars in the last hour. I find myself cooing at pictures of wild animals and bunnies. But most of all, I feel a great urge to help equalize the opportunities existent in the world for woman and for men. I... I don’t know what this means!

HEMINGWAY: Of course I mean her. MORTON: That’s very.. Out of character. HEMINGWAY: I don’t know about that... Nothing really matters anyone can see nothing really matters no nothing really matters nothing really matters to meeee MORTON: What?! Hemingway: I meant to say that her contributions towards the glorious and selfless struggle towards equal rights for all people are inestimably great. Women, you know, are just as capable as we... MORTON: Why, uh, yes... HEMINGWAY: And I cannot see how it is that society continues on in its current patriarchal form. The evil of our system has poisoned everything: from it stems war, that terrible and utterly avoidable thingMORTON: You really must be kidding, Mr. Hemingway. HEMINGWAY: (Working himself up) How could I jest of such things? We send our young men to die and to learn violence and allow our women to be denied the privilege of full realization of their intellect and skills. We want so terribly to view them only as pretty dolls, though not too pretty, lest they be slatternlyMORTON: Mr. Hemingway, please! Tell me of something else. What about fishing? Hunting? HEMINGWAY: Again, these violent tendencies of our society! I have given such things up and recant of my ever partaking in them at all. Have you heard of veganism, Morton? Did you know that my going vegan, you can save over one hundred chickens a yearMORTON: I cannot take this, Mr. Hemingway. I see you refuse to take this seriously! And the blown-apart carcass on your drive is very suspicious, I might add! Good day! [Morton leaves.]

XANATH: Hemingway, in your first of many vegan meals, I gifted you the beautiful burden of conscience and of caring; above that, though, I gave you feminism. HEMINGWAY: Feminism?.. Is that what this feeling is called? XANATH: Yes, Hemingway. HEMINGWAY: Why me? XANATH: From the plant world, I have received the ability to transform in a pinch of time any I so choose. Hemingway, I knew you to be a great writer, but while your works thrilled me, they also brought about in my bosom a great desire to kill both you and I via drowning in a sea of immeasurable gloom. HEMINGWAY: I understand now, Xanath. Please, stay with me! I love you, not for your smokin’ body, but for the inner parts of you which one cannot fornicate with! XANATH: I am not of this world, Hemingway. I came and have fulfilled my purpose. HEMINGWAY: Xanath, I don’t want to live to become like the old man and the sea, alone and intent upon killing a singular whale. I want to volunteer with you at an animal sanctuary. I want to bake vegan cookies with you. I want to camp with you and wake early to see the sun also rises. I want you here with me... I don’t want to live without you! Xanath: Yes, well, neither did Maria wish to live without Robert Jordan, HEMINGWAY: Well, yes... XANATH: or Josh Barnes wish to live without Lady Brett Ashley... HEMINGWAY: Again, I can agree... XANATH: or Henry wish Catherine to perish... But some things can not be changed. HEMINGWAY: So... Is this truly a farewell to arms?

23 XANATH: If you wish to bade my arms farewell, you may... HEMINGWAY: (Grasping her arm, whispering towards it) I shall never forget you, O arm of the one who taught my heart to feel! I shall remember the shape of you always, and your light green color, and the hair texture, and this small freckle, and the percentage of body fat carried in the bicep, and the shape of this one sort of bulgy vein, and.. XANATH: That is quite enough, Hemingway. Farewell! HEMINGWAY: (Falling to ground) Xanath! I shall champion this cause, this feminism, that you instilled within me always! PAULINE: [Looks like she’s been crawling through the mud.] Oh you will, will you? Is that why you never went outside to confirm my demise?

Katie Powell

[Hemingway looks at the audience, speechless.] END

Announcements GALLERY OPENING: Friday, Feb. 15 from 4:30-5:30 p.m. Collected Prints: A Selection of Works on Paper from the collection of Catherine Clinger. Woodcuts, engravings, etchings, and lithographs from the 16th to the 21st centuries. Exhibit runs Feb. 12 through Mar. 1. Blum Gallery.

be followed by a discussion with filmaker Nancy Gherner and her husband, John, a leader in the Greater Rochester Coalition for Immigration Justice. Lecture Hall.

ONE BILLION RISING DANCE PARTY: Friday, Feb. 15 at 8:30 p.m. In celebration of V-Month. Gates.

GALLERY TALK: Thursday, Feb. 21 at 4:10 p.m. Catherine Clinger talks about the work in her collection on exhibit in the Blum.

DANCE BAND: Saturday, Feb. 16 at 8 p.m. Gang of Thieves. Gates. MORNING KUNDALINI YOGA SADHANA: Sunday, Feb. 17 (and subsequent Sundays throughout the term) from 6 to 8 a.m. Join Lauren Rupp, for a set of yogic exercises and more. Followed by a potluck breakfast. Deering Common, South Entrance, second floor. V-DAY DISCUSSION: Sunday, Feb. 17 from 2 - 4pm. “Personal Exploration of Oppression; Art as Activism.” To continue this month’s conversations about gender and violence, join Jodi Baker, Catherine Clinger, and Karen Waldron as they faciliate a discussion of how art, as political and personal, can become a form of resistance or activism to violence and oppression. FILM SCREENING: Monday, Feb. 18 at 7pm. Screening of the feature-length documentary, “After I Pick the Fruit: The Lives of Migrant Women.” The screening will

HEF: Tuesday, Feb. 19 at 4:10 p.m. Nicole Vicente speaks on “Forests and Farms: Biodiversity in Brazil.”

HEF: Friday, Feb. 22 at 4:10 p.m. Mexico Solidarity Network’s Claudia Torres, a human rights organizer coordinating solidarity with Zapatista communities in Chiapas and working with women to resist gendered violence and promote women’s health, education, and dignity, speaks on “Clearing the path: Resisting repression and building solidarity in Mexico.” Lecture Hall. V-DAY PERFORMANCE: Friday, Feb. 22 at 7 p.m. “The Bar Harbor Monologues” an informal, open mic production organized by COA students. YMCA. HEF: Tuesday, Feb. 26 at 4:10 p.m. Allister Stanton, COA grad student who has recently taught English communication skills in Rwanda as a Peace Corps volunteer. Lecture Hall. DUO: Tuesday, Feb. 26 at 8 p.m. Tall Heights, guitar and cello. Turrets.