So, This Is My Life: Volume III

Page 1

•

so , this is m y life .



•

so , this is m y life .



• an annotated bibliography a memoir a story

edited & compiled by Sarah Rocco



• “You know, we each create a story—a narrative, a picture, an allegory, a model—for what’s going on here, and then we fight, sometimes to the death, to make others, if not believe in that model, we fight to be able to keep believing in it ourselves. So we try to erase contradictory evidence to that model.” —douglas rushkoff



• in three parts volume iii


table of contents part I c h a p t er i

19

engl 412 |  early shakespeare engl 207 |  drama & film engl 326 |  victorian literature

c h a p t er ii

33

engl 396 |  russian literature arts   261  |  graphic design ii engl 345 |  critical reading

part II c h a p t er i

51

wgst 377 |  italian women writers

c h a p t er ii

61

79

89

outside r e ading |  fall 2013

c h a p t er iii

engl 242 |  american indian literature

c h a p t er iv

outside r e ading |  spring 2013

epilogue




• to Sancho Panza—for showing me the adventures in everyday life. —Dulcinea


14  /  15


part I SOPHOMORE. ROUTINE. CORTLAND. CHRISTMASVILLE. 24-HOUR. GUIDANCE. SILENCE.

pressure.



chapter i engl 412 |  early shakespeare engl 207 |  drama & film engl 326 |  victorian literature chapter ii engl 396 |  russian literature engl 345 |  critical reading



ch a p t er i engl 412 |  early shakespeare 3 r d semester, fall 2012 mwf 11:00–11:50 am engl 207 |  drama & film 3 r d semester, fall 2012 mwf 12:00–12:50 pm engl 326 |  victorian literature 3 r d semester, fall 2012 mwf 1:00–1:50 pm


20  /  21

a midsummer night’s dream w illi a m sh ak espe ar e


DE M ET R IUS

Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me That yet we sleep, we dream.


22  /  23

“Nothing’s lost forever. In this world, there is a

kind of painful progress. Longing for what we’ve

left behind, and dreaming ahead.

At least I think so.”


angels in america. tony kushner


24  /  25

The world of

books is still

the world.


aurora leigh elizabeth barrett browning


26  /  27

the mill on the floss “O yes, that is what prevents me from feeling

into my brain. Life seems to go on without effort,

sleepy. I think I should have no other mortal

when I am filled with music. At other times, one

wants, if I could always have plenty of music. It

is conscious of carrying a weight.” | george eliot

seems to infuse strength into my limbs and ideas





a midsummer night’s dream | william shakespe are , 20–21 engl 412—I’d always wanted to read this book, ever since watching de a d poets’ societ y freshman year of high school in Ms. Royer’s English 9A class. Neil’s portrayal of Puck and his enthusiasm for the role placed the play, somewhat arbitrarily I suppose, as close to my heart as the movie. As we read the play, I loved the little pieces of dialogue that seemed to contradict themselves on some level; they reminded of the whimsical nature of pure inspiration and joy, the same energ y that Keating tried to show his students.

angels in america | ton y

k ushner , 22–23

engl 207—This class was a dooz y. We read a play a week, many of which I did not like all that much, and a parallel movie every Wednesday night. We read this play towards the end of the semester, in fact it might have been the last play we read. I remember being stunned by how much I related to the struggles the characters faced and how beautifully those struggles were composed. Finals week is almost always hell for me—three or four papers to write, a handful of art projects to wrap up and print, and of course finding some time to sleep. I remember writing the final paper for this class on this play, and sitting in the second floor of the library—the quiet area where everyone decides to do their group work—and just having the best time goofing off with Lindsay amidst the stress that surrounded us.

aurora leigh | el iz a be t h

b a rre t t browning , 24–25

engl 326—I read an excerpt of this for my Victorian Literature class with Dr. Kaplin. I loved her discussion of books and literature, and her brief treatise on the cage in which women lived. Her thoughts on women’s identity during the Victorian Era were incredibly intriguing to me, and prompted further discussion and research through works by flor ence nightinga le and  john stua rt mill. Lauren, one of my teammates, read the novel not long after that project, but I don’t think she actually read the book—English classes aren’t really her thing. When her class was over, she surprised me with the book as a gift, and it’s probably one of my most cherished gifts.

the mill on the floss | george

el iot , 26–27

engl 326—Another book for Victorian Lit, I didn’t think much of this book when I first started it. I didn’t realize how much I would latch on to the main character, Maggie, in her attempt to find her place in world with no room for adventurous and intelligent women. There was this one time in class, a few minutes before the period officially started, we were in the middle of the novel and we were sharing our opinions on how characters and their relationships had developed thus far. I remember Dr. Kaplin turning to me, and saying he thought I would really connect with and like Maggie’s character based on my writing. My favorite memories of these books are classroom discussions: where I could be a wallflower and absorb everyone’s perspectives on books I treasured so much.




ch a p t er i i engl 396 |  russian literature 4th semester, spring 2013 mwf 2:00–2:50 pm arts 261 |  graphic design ii 4th semester, spring 2013 tr 1:00–3:20 pm engl 345 |  critical reading 4th semester, spring 2013 tr 3:30–4:50 pm


34  /  35


•

anna karenina leo tolstoy

Is it really possible to tell someone what one feels?


36  /  37

“ we

sometimes encounter

people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest

us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once,

before a word has been spoken.


crime and punishment

�

f yodor dostoevsky


a 38  /  39

lways in life an idea starts

small, it is only a sapling idea, but the vines will come and

they will try to choke your

idea so it cannot grow and it will die and you will never know you had a big idea, an idea

so big it could have grown thirty meters through the dark canopy of leaves and touched the

face of the sky.

‘The vines are people who are afraid of originality, of new thinking. Most people you

encounter will be vines; when you are a young plant they are very dangerous.

‘Always listen to yourself, Peekay. It is better to be wrong than simply to follow conven-

tion. If you are wrong, no matter, you have learned something and you grow stronger. If you are right, you have taken another step toward a fulfilling life.


the power of one

|

br yc e c ou r t e n ay


40  /  41


PEOPLE LOVE TALKING, AND I HAVE NEVER BEEN A HUGE TALKER. I CARRY ON AN INNER MONOLOGUE, BUT THE WORDS OFTEN DON’T REACH MY LIPS. gone girl  |  gil li a n fly nn




anna karenina | l eo

tol s toy , 34–35

engl 396—This monster of a book was just that: a monster. Just kidding. But it was a tank of a book nonetheless. I started it on our locker room floor during preseason for indoor track. Dr. Kaplin had suggested if we jump-started any of the reading list, to start with the largest book on the syllabus. Oddly enough, I liked the second protagonist of the novel, Levin, best. I always found him much more relatable, and, frankly, a bit comical.

crime and punishment | f yodor dostoe vsk y, 36–37 engl 396—Another book for Russian Literature, I had been intrigued by this book since my friend Teigan did her author project on Dostoevsky. I had heard good things about it and the intense introspective nature of it. At the start of the semester, I had a picked a new semester table in the library. From the atrium, I moved to the row of tables right before that hallway, second or third down—depending on availability. I remember sitting there every Monday and Wednesday night, my Russian Lit reading nights, plugging in to my expanded  dustin o’h a llor a n playlist, and losing myself in the recesses of Raskolnikov’s harrowed mind.

. . . Asserts forcefully what all of court“UNBASHEDLY en ,UPLIFTING 38–39 us woulday like to believe: that the individual, armed with with spirit of independence–’the power of one’–can prevail.” –The Cleveland Plain Dealer

the power of one

the power of one | br yce

arts 261—I read this book for my gd ii class for our book cover project. I wasn’t expecting much and had picked it on a whim, but it’s one of the best books I have ever read. Lindsay and I spent a lot of time together in our dorm room doing homework, many times we wouldn’t talk for hours straight. She would sit at her computer, her old, outdated black headphones in listening to queen or c a k e; I would lie on my bed, plugged in to dustin o’h a llor a n absorbing passages from this book like cake—thinking how lucky I was to have this book shown to me and discovering the elegant words inside. Bryce Courtenay, AM was a South African novelist who also held Australian citizenship. He is one of Australia’s best-selling authors, notable for his book The Power of One. Born in Johannesburg, South Africa to Maude Greer and Arthur Ryder, Courtenay attended King Edward VII School where he met his future wife, Benita Solomon. They married in 1959 and had three sons: Brett, Adam and Damon. The Power of One is also available a young reader’s edition, and Jessica has been made into an awardwinning television miniseries. Courtenay passed away November 22 in his home in Canberra.

The Power of one tells the story of a tormented boy, his unusual best friends—Granpa Chook, Doc, and Morrie)—and the life lesson of letting go. Peekay, born in South African, speaks the wrong language: English. This brands him as an outsider from the beginning, turning fellow schoolmates into bullies that inflict life changing torments. Peekay’s battle to combat racism and prejudice with his own self confidence parallels his ultimate goal: to become welterweight champion of the world. In his struggle to meat his goal, and through all the adversity and hate Peekay faces boxing becomes his sanctuary and the power of one is his greatest weapon.

“MARVELOUS”

–The Washington Post Book World Visit Bryce on Facebook: facebook.com/BryceCourtenay

BRYCE COURTENAY

“TOTALLY ENGROSSING” –Los Angeles Times Book Review

gone girl | gil l i a n

m y book cov er →

$14.00 U.S.A. $14.38 Can.

the

Other Works by the Author:

p wer of

one

The African Books Tandia The Night Country Whitethorn The Australian Trilogy The Potato Factory Tommo & Hawk Solomon’s Song The Nick Duncan Saga The Persimon Tree Fishing for Stars Other Fiction The Family Frying Pan Jessica A Recipe for Dreaming Smoky Joe’s Cafe Four Fires Matthew Flinders’ Cat Brother Fish Sylvia The Story of Danny Dunn Fortune Cookie Non-fiction April Fool’s Day Upcoming Books Jack of Diamonds

bryce courtenay

f ly nn , 40 –41

engl 345—This book blew my mind on so many levels. Usually I am pretty adept at picking out the plot twists before they happen, just ask my dad, but I was completely fooled by this narrative. If you’ve ever talked to anyone about this book while reading it, almost everyone’s first question is, “Have you gotten to the pa rt yet? // What pa rt? // You’ll know when you get there.” My friend Anna asked me that exact question. And she was right. We read this book right before spring break of my sophomore year, right after the dreaded 24 hour review, right in the middle of my interview for ry l a. Anna said she was biking in the g ym when she found out; I was sitting on the second floor of the Williams Center by the windows overlooking the pathway to the quad.




part II DEAN MARTIN. PANCAKE NIGHT. EXECUTIVE CHAIR. POST-IT NOTES.

strength.



chapter i wgst 377 |  italian women writers chapter ii outside reading |  fall 2013 chapter iii engl 242 |  american indian literature chapter iv outside reading |  spring 2013



ch a p t er i wgst 377 |  italian women writers 5th semester, fall 2013 tr 2:00–3:20 pm


52  /  53

M


history elsa morante


54  /  55

“Sometimes excavators dig

up centuries-old roots cling-

ing to one another like hu-

man bodies.” — giulianna

mor andini


be rli na ng el




history | el s a

mor a n t e , 52–53

wgst 377—This class was incredibly interesting and was right after my internship with Leapfrog. I remember walking from Leapfrog on Holmes Street, always a little worried I would be late for picking up a spoon to eat my leftover yogurt from lunch, eager to delve into another culture’s history. There really is no better way to understand a time, a place, or a people than to read their thoughts and stories. Ida’s struggle is a universal one, unique to her time, but not trapped within the shackles she felt throughout her life.

berlin angel | giul i a nn a

mor a ndini , 54–55

wgst 377—This was part of a short story collection we read for ita li a n women w r iter s. It was interesting to read from so many different styles, all women and all Italian. Up until that point, most of my English education had been male-author dominated, at least those classes that focused on literature in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. But this story in particular has stuck with me. It’s one of the shorter stories out of the collection, but her words have long-lasting grip.




•

ch a p t er i i 5th semester | fall 2013 outside r e a ding


S 62  /  63

omeone once asked me which parent I hated the most. It was

a provocative question and an interesting one,

because it suddenly became apparent to

me which one I loved with all of my

being . . . and that was my father.

My mother was terribly important

to me and I know how much I

yearned for her in my youth, but I don’t

think I truly trusted her.


ju lie andre ws

|

ho m e


64  /  65

jimmy stewart: a biography m arc eliot


And I thought, that’s the wonderful thing about movies. Because if you’re good, and God helps you, and you’re lucky enough to have a personality that comes across, then what you’re doing is, you’re giving people little... tiny... pieces of time... that they never forget.




home | jul ie

a ndre w s , 62– 63

fall 2013—Another recommendation of my dear friend Emily, I have loved Julie Andrews for years. I am told that as a child I watched m a ry poppins almost daily—well, that and  ba r ney, but that’s not important—sometimes I wouldn’t even watch it, I would just ask for it to be put in so I could listen to the music. And her memoir is just as magical as her movies. I always buy used books because, as Kateri once guessed, they have a story of their own. A few chapters into Julie Andrews’ memoir, I came across a flower petal pressed within the pages. spit spot.

jimmy stewart: a biography | m a rc

el iot , 64– 65

fall 2013—Some of my friends joke that I had a sheltered childhood growing up. I didn’t have l egos; I played with colorful blocks. I miss a lot childhood tv show references, and I never had lincoln logs. But what I was given was an appreciation and knowledge of movies, actors, and music. Jimmy Stewart was one of my favorites, Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant. h a rv ey, it’s a wonder fu l life, r e a r w indow, to c atch a t hief, nort h by nort h w est, the list goes on. This book was a Christmas gift from my dad. A token, as I’ve come to see it, to the days and memories of watching old movies together, of listening to music while playing monopoly ( yes, I had that game) in a thunderstorm, of answering all of my silly questions. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. hot dog!




ch a p t er i i i engl 242 |  american indian literature 6th semester, spring 2014 tr 12:30–1:50 pm


72  /  73


the in  conve  nient indian “History may well be a series of stories we tell celebrated events. We throw in a couple of about the past, but the stories are not just any

exceptional women every now and then, not

stories. They’re not chosen by chance. By and

out of any need to recognize female eminence,

large, the stories are about famous men and

but out of embarrassment.” | thomas king


74  /  75

from my high I am broken as much as any native ground, my roots tap a thousand migrations. My daughters were never born, I am as much the invader as the native, as much the last day of life as the first. I presumed you to be as bitter as me, to tremble and rage against alien weight. Who should blossom? Who receive pollen? Who should be rooted, who pruned, who watered, who picked?


itch like crazy women like me wendy rose


76  /  77


T

“ hough we have instructions and a map

buried in our hearts when we enter this world,

nothing quite prepares us for the abrupt shift to the breathing

“ realm.

CRAZ Y BRAVE j oy h a r j o


78  /  79


Ceremony leslie m ar mon silko

I will tell you something about stories, [he said] They’re aren’t just entertainment. Don’t be fooled. They are all we have, you see, all we have to fight off illness and death. You don’t have anything if you don’t have the stories.


80  /  81

“I

f you let people into your life a little bit,

they can be pretty damn amazing.”


the absolutely true confessions of a part-time indian. sherman alexie




the inconvenient indian | t hom a s

k ing , 72–73

engl 242—I signed up for this class because I had read a poem by Louise Erdrich, c a pti v it y, in a mer ic a n liter a ry roots my sophomore year. But I had no idea what I was getting into. From the first book to the last, this class and Dr. Iovannone were amazing. This book opened my eyes to so many cultural identity issues I didn’t even know existed, conflicts that still plague my psyche. I remember sitting on the second floor of Willy eating dinner trying to write my first response paper for this class, trying to form a coherent thought about how much I had bought into the construct of the  de a d indi a n and the even more troubling issue of land. It was a book that opened my eyes to a world I didn’t know existed, and a class that would expose me to literature I didn’t want to live without.

itch like crazy, women like me | wendy

rose , 74–75

engl 242—A book of poetry from a mer ic a n indi a n liter atur e, this was just as enriching as the first story we read. I read the majority of these poems in a hotel room in Lewsiburg, Pennsylvania awaiting a track meet. The author was searching for her father, her family identity, through poems; I was trying to create her family tree from clues within her poems. I was shocked by how much I felt her pain, how much I emphasized with her search for answers. No one likes to read stories like these, of broken histories and families, of pain that sees no end. But these are stories we have been ignoring for years, a people that we have reduced down to treaties and committees. And I don’t have the answers.

crazy brave | joy

h a r jo , 76–7 7

engl 242—I was not prepared for how much I would relate to these books. It may not sound like a big deal, but to have each page, each chapter shed light on an aspect of my life was both incredible and terrifying. Having a third party speak to and react to similar moments in your own life is a unique gift. Dr. Iovannone wanted us to keep journals while we read, write down our questions, our thoughts, our ideas about each section of reading. Initially I hated this idea; I am a highlighter through and through, and, honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit my thoughts about this book to paper. But what I realized was that Joy Harjo already had. Her words were my thoughts, and her bravery was my courage.



ceremony | l e sl ie

m a r mon sil ko , 78–79

engl 242—During my freshman, the final project for  mystery & detective fiction was a research paper or a creative project with an author memorandum or analysis of our choices, inspirations, and the place we saw for  m&d fiction in modern literature. I chose the creative option, drafting a short story, she, based on characters from a is for a libi and  w ith no one a s w it ness. My second semester, we had the same option for my a mer ica n liter a ry roots final: a research project or a creative piece. I chose to write another chapter of my story building off the captivity narrative genre we had studied through m ary w hite row l a ndson and the poem by louise er dr ich. My fourth semester, the third chapter of  s h e became my final project for cr itic a l r e a ding, based on the literary theorists a ntonio gr a msci, louis a lt husser , and  michel fouc ault. And then the sixth. My final project for a mer ic a n indi a n literat ur e required both a creative and a research component. The creative part became the fourth chapter of  she. After reading cer emon y, I was fixated on the idea of the necessity of stories. I had always valued them, but never drawn the literal, direct parallel to cultural and personal identity.

the absolutely true diary of a part-time indian sher m a n a l e x ie , 80 –81 engl 242—This seems to be a theme, but I wasn’t too expectant picking up this book. In fact, I was behind on the reading the day we started the book. I probably had an art project or another paper due, but I didn’t make it a priority. I quickly made up the difference and finished the book in days. It was a beautiful story, filled to the brim with satire and undiluted adolescent wisdom. Junior has the same views that we do, but he was able to say them in striking honesty, a way that most adults can’t.

To my friends­—who waited for me to let you in. •




•

ch a p t er i v 6th semester | spring 2014 outside r e a ding


90  /  91

“”

t h e p r e s t ig e christopher priest


The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you’re looking for the secret... but you wont find it, because of course you’re not really looking. You don’t really want to know. You want to be fooled.


92  /  93


•

no matter the wreckage

e x t ended de v elopmen t

sar ah k ay

One day some towers fell.

And the house near the park became a house under ash, so they escaped in backpacks, on bicycles, to darkrooms.

But the loft on Wooster Street was built for an artist,

not a family of pigeons. And walls that do not reach the ceiling

do not hold in the yelling. So the man with basketball hands put his weapons out to rust.

He could not go to war, and no maps pointed home.

His hands did not fit his wife’s, did not fit the camera, did not fit his body.

The Sweet Potato Boy mashed his fists into his mouth

until he had nothing more to say, and the Girl Without Freckles

went treasure-hunting on her own.




the prestige | chris topher

prie s t , 90 –91

spring 2014—Another book read after the movie, I watched  t he pr est ige based on a movie recommendation from my friend Alex. This might be on of those instances where I like the movie better. I kept a character list while I was reading just to keep myself straight, but the whole time I was reading, I was comparing it to the movie and what they changed. It was interesting, especially for this story, to know the huge plot twist beforehand. I’ve always wondered if the clues appeared as obvious to new readers as they did to me; although, I did have the upper hand.

no matter the wreckage, extended development s a r a h k ay , 92–93 spring 2014—I first discovered Sarah Kay in high school. My senior year in English we had a spoken word poetry unit, and while researching I discovered her. I found Sarah’s spoken word performance of  b, and it was beyond incredible. I think I watched it four or five times in a row after I discovered it. And I shared with my friend Rachel because I wanted the world to know about it. Sarah used language and words in such a powerful way, and I couldn’t stay away. I would look her up every once and again, watchig  b again when I did, trying to find any documentation of her poems, her words. When I found out she was publishing a book of her poetry I was over the moon. She used poetry to find her way; I used words to find my voice.






epilogue

“Read a few sentences or pages and lo! the air swims with life; the front of heaven is full of fiery shapes; secrets of magnanimity and grandeur invite us on every hand; life is made up of them. Such is our debt to a book.” —ralph waldo emerson


• Designed by Sarah Rocco. Compiled, edited, and typeset in Fredonia, New York. Type set in Garamond, designed by Claude Garamond & Meta, by Erik Spiekermann. First edition: March 2015.

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