THE SYCAMORE WELLS COLLEGE’S STUDENT MAGAZINE / SPRING 2013
THE
NIGHT issue
CONT features 9 24 IN THE DARK OF NIGHT
A look at a shadowy campus
FROZEN IN TIME
A study in long exposure photography
13 32 THE HORROR OF IT ALL
Examining what terrifies us
FEELING LIKE A CRIMINAL Defining crime in a greedy world
17 35 YOU ARE AFRAID OF THE DARK
Insights from an expert on everything
ADOPTING THE SITH CODE Come to the dark side
20 45 THE ART OF STORYTELLING
From campfire tales to the matinée
2 COVER DESIGN BY JILLIAN FIELDS
EVENING
A thirst for the nightlife
TENTS constants 5 50 DESIGN EDITOR’S NOTE A few opening remarks
ACADEMIC PAPER CONTEST
Peter Johnsen’s “Rhapsodies of Fire and Fire: An Argument for Imagination in ‘Evening Without Angels’”
6 53 FILM REVIEWS
Date night films you should probably watch
POETRY CONTEST
Fahad Rahmat’s “Sonnets on the Moon Float Away”
46 54 SHORT STORY CONTEST
Lindsey Wood’s “Another Sleepless Night”
PHOTO & STUDIO ART CONTEST Marissa Burns’s “A Night in Hawaii”
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THE SYCAMORE is Wells College’s student magazine. This is our tenth biannual issue. In keeping with our mission, we print on sustainably harvested paper and use nontoxic ink. Please see the corresponding Spring 2013 Day issue published issuu.com.
DESIGN EDITOR'S NOTE
A magazine is, in essence, a collaboration. At The Sycamore, this is true more than ever before. After listening to comments from the rest of the staff, the editorial board moved to make the process more collaborative. New content workshops, in which each staff member was invited to present their work to others in order to receive feedback or to be helped through a problem they found themselves faced with, proved to be an invaluable help as the presence of people from all areas of the magazine allowed for diverse feedback and ways of thinking that may not have occurred to a writer, or a photographer. This process only continued as we reached the design process. This semester, more people than ever before expressed an interest in learning how to assemble a magazine. Everyone who stopped by was able to comment on the designs and give their suggestions: Maybe the title should be moved to the left a little, perhaps that yellow could be darker, I think that font is too difficult to read— all of these little suggestions during the process are what lead to the fully polished product. Every person’s opinion is valuable. Which all leads to the point that this beautiful magazine you hold in your hands would not be possible without each and every member of our fantastic staff, all of whom are responsible for the final product. Keegan has once again provided us with a beautiful and imaginative photo spread (Night, page 41), Missy discusses the art of story telling (Night, page 20), and Gabrielle presents an impressive study in long exposure photography (Night, page 24). Both Abena and Ramona tackled social issues in their pieces (Day 32 and Night 32, respectively) and Paige provides the reader with a few tips and tricks to maximize daytime productivity (Day 26). Some of our staff members could not be contained to one side: both Hillary and Julie provide their work (film reviews and photography, respectively) in two parts, one on each side. As always, none of this could have been possible with out the magnificence of Judy, our Editor in Chief and Bekkah, our Chief Copy Editor. Bekkah has more than proved her dedication by retaining her responsibilities of copy editing while spending a semester abroad in Paris. Even though she was an ocean away, she was still ready and willing to give a second opinion or feedback on any aspect of the magazine at any time. I can never thank Judy enough for all of the support and guidance she gives to not only me, but the entire staff. She keeps each and every staff member focused and inspired, all while leading with an abundance of grace and poise. She is a pleasure to work with and I thank her for all of her help through the entirety of the process. Now, read on and enjoy! •
Date Night Movies By Hillary O’Grady
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FIGURING OUT SOMETHING TO DO WITH THAT SOMEONE SPECIAL CAN BE QUITE THE CHALLENGE. IF YOU’RE TRYING TO IMPRESS, CHECK OUT THESE MOVIES AND REMEMBER TO SHARE THE POPCORN.
Title: Cool Runnings (1993) Directed by: Jon Turteltaub Distributed by: Walt Disney Pictures When three athletes don’t make the cut for Jamaica’s Olympic track team, they do the previously unthinkable —create a bobsled team. In looking for a coach they come across retired Olympic bobsledder Irv Blitzer ( John Candy). Through hard work, and in the face of ridicule, the team makes it to the 1988 Winter Olympics. However, they don’t have a sled. Luckily, Irv pulls a few strings and manages to buy an old bobsled from one of the American coaches. Impressed by the Swiss team, the Jamaican team uses their tactics, thinking that this will improve their skills. In doing this, they realize that they are not representing Jamaica, which causes riffs and results in their poor scores on the first race. By the last race, the team finally comes together and bobsleds the Jamaican way. At the last possible moment, a bolt falls off of the sled and the team crashes. But this does not stop them, and they carry the sled across the finish line. Even though they come in last place, they learn the true meaning of victory. Although it is only loosely based on the first actual Jamaican bobsled team, it is the most socially conscious Disney film I’ve come across. It’s also the only Disney film that I know of where they curse. Cool Runnings is hilarious and full of nostalgia. So if you’re trying to have a good time and a few laughs, be on the look-out for Cool Runnings. Rating: 9/10
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Title: Almost Famous (2000) Directed by: Cameron Crowe Distributed by: DreamWorks Pictures Mature for his age, fifteen year old aspiring rock journalist William Miller (Patrick Fugit) gets the opportunity of a lifetime when the editor of Creem Magazine, Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman), gives him his first paying gig: $35 to cover a Black Sabbath concert. However, he is unable to get backstage and is forced to stay outside with the groupies, where he meets Penny Lane (Kate Hudson). Penny tries to sneak him in, but is caught by the bouncer and has to stay outside. A few moments later, the opening band Stillwater drives up in their rickety tour bus. Realizing this opportunity, William attempts to get an interview with them and after a few compliments, Stillwater warms up to William and brings him backstage. After their set, Stillwater invites William and Penny to their next show in Hollywood. A few days later William receives a call from the editor of Rolling Stone offering him $1,000 for 3,000 words on Stillwater. The rest of the film follows William’s journey while on Stillwater’s tour, giving laughs, highs and lows, and a great soundtrack. The star-studded cast gives an amazing performance. But the break-away star of this movie is Frances McDormand, who plays William’s overbearing New Age mother. Although it can seem to drag at various points, Almost Famous is definitely worth checking out—especially if either you or your date are fans of classic rock. Rating: 7/10
Title: Paris Is Burning (1990) Directed by: Jennie Livingston Distributed by: Miramax Pictures Paris is Burning is a three year project that provides a look into New York City’s Ball scene in the 1980s. The film gives insight in Reading, Shade, and the underground dance phenomenon “voguing.” The project follows several different Houses (“gay street gangs”) such as the House of Ninja, the House of LaBeija, and the House of Extravaganza. These Houses were formed in order to not only promote their legendary status, but also to create a family for the young adults whose biological families abandoned or disowned them, often because of their sexual choices. Paris is Burning gives a history of the Ball scene from the insights of older drag queens and ball walkers, illustrating the transformations this subculture has gone through. The film also addresses issues of homophobia, the Whiteness of popular culture and society, poverty, and hiv. In addition, Paris is Burning captures the last few years of Venus Extravaganza’s (of the House of Extravaganza) life. The film effectively portrays her struggles with transphobia, and wanting to move away from New York City. Another notable individual in this film is drag performer Dorian Corey who, after his death, was found to have a mummified body in his closet. Rating: 8.5/10
8 FILM
...In the Dark of the Night A photostudy by Julie Huang
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Oh, Imagine, the Horror of it All! By Michelle Lee
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onfession: I like to read the Wikipedia entries of horror movies. Let me be clear—I can’t watch horror movies. Even the commercials freak me out. I change the channel the second I hear the start of creepy piano music. Regardless of how poorly produced it may be or how ridiculous the acting is, I cannot sit through a scary movie. I also can’t stop reading their Wikipedia entries. Last Halloween, I was at a friend’s party and we ended up watching Grave Encounters in her basement. If you haven’t heard of the movie, just know it is hilariously awful. At one point, black arms come out of the walls and try to grab the protagonist and I’m convinced they just took arms made of jelly and glued them on the wall. But the fact that I found it awful doesn’t change the fact that, for a month after, every time I laid back to go to sleep, the entire movie played in my head. I don’t watch horror movies because when I do, I lose an inordinate amount of sleep. I have, however, read the Wikipedia page to Grave Encounters and the sequel, Grave Encounters 2. The difference is, reading the Wikipedia entry doesn’t make me stay up late. It doesn’t make my heart race or my palms sweat. I sleep just fine. I am not haunted by entries read the same way I am by movies seen. So the question is, why? Why do we react the way we do to horror? Well, blame it on the amygdalae. These almond-shaped neurons are all jerks. When you’re scared, the amygdalae release cortisol, a stress hormone. Too much of the stuff leads to weight gain,
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depression, and high blood pressure. Too little has connections to chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia. The amygdalae are all about emotion and motivation, especially if it has to do with survival. Unfortunately, our bodies cannot tell the difference between something we should actually be afraid of, like a cheetah running towards you, and non-life-threatening scares, such as something popping up on a movie screen—still waiting for natural selection to get rid of that. The physical or biochemical reaction to fear is pretty universal: sweaty palms, racing heartbeat, and increases in adrenaline, cortisol, and other hormones. All humans (barring genetic disorders) experience this physical reaction to fear. It’s the individualized reactions that are fascinating. Consider the people who seem to thrive off of their fear. They go to every summer horror flick, play survival horror video games, and spend the year preparing for Halloween. Why do they do it? There are three popular theories used to explain the popularity of horror movies. The first postulates that a person is not afraid of the movie, but excited. The second claims people are willing to sit through being scared for the rush, the sense of relief at the end. However, the third and most recent theory suggests, “The assumption of people’s inability to experience positive and negative affect at the same time is incorrect” (University of Chicago Press Journals). What does that mean? Some people are happy being unhappy. It’s not a foreign concept. We do things all the time that make us miserable. Checking your ex’s Facebook,
“Some people are happy being unhappy. It’s not a foreign concept.”
obsessing over something bad said about you, procrastinating on an assignment handed out a week ago. People choose to do these things, knowing what kind of reaction they’re going to have. The film genre of “horror” began in 1896 with French director Georges Méilès’ short film La Manoir de Diable or The House of the Devil (Harris). The most influential horror films came from Germany during their Expressionist movement, which produced works like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Nosferatu in the 1920s. America is able to boast producing the first novel-tofilm adaptations from both Frankenstein and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, written by Mary Shelley and Robert Louis Stevenson, respectively. Now, “horror” is an enveloping term made of different subcategories like thriller, psychological thriller, slasher, etc. The Saw franchise is at seven movies and has been dubbed as “torture porn,” a subcategory also known as splatter or gore film. So, my question is—why can I read the Wikipedia entries of horror movies, but not watch the actual film? Other than the obvious, what’s the difference between reading a horror novel and watching a horror film? As Rosenberg writes in “The Superheroes: Allowing Our Imaginations Free Reign,” reading “requires us to use our imagination. We immerse ourselves in the world we are reading about.” When we read, we build our own worlds following the descriptions given to us. Our minds fill in missing details, and, as Rosenberg notes, we are allowed to go our own pace. No one admonishes you for rereading a portion or skimming the less
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interesting parts. Movies don’t allow for such a privilege. They also fill in more gaps than reading because of the visualization components that are inherent to the nature of films. People have been scaring themselves since way before films were around, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to be stopping anytime soon. Freak shows were essential during the Victorian period in Europe and America, usually exploiting people with disabilities or different racial communities. Hollywood continues to remake past blockbusters (see: The Amityville Horror, Black Christmas, The Hills Have Eyes) and make adaptations of international horror films (see: The Grudge, Let Me In, The Ring, The Uninvited). One thing is clear. As long as horror movies are produced and Wikipedia entries written, I will be there reading them. • Works Cited Beil, Laura. “The Science of Fear.” Women’s Health. 29 Oct 2011: n. page. Web. 22 Mar. 2013. Rosenberg, Robin S. “The Superheroes: Allowing Our Imaginations Free Reign.” Psychology Today. 1 Oct 2012: n. page. Web. 22 Mar. 2013. University of Chicago Press Journals. “Why Do People Love Horror Movies? They Enjoy Being Scared.” ScienceDaily, 31 Jul. 2007. Web. 22 Mar. 2013.
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You Are Afraid of the Dark Expert on Everything, Mike Lynch, Analyzes an Epidemic
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ou’ve just finished your warm glass of milk, put on your footy pajamas, and snuggled into bed with your favorite teddy bear. Mommy comes in, kisses you on the forehead, and tucks you in before turning off the lights. But wait, what’s this? She has forgotten to plug in your nightlight, and in seconds you’re surrounded by absolute and complete darkness. As panic begins to set in, your imagination is unleashed. A creak of the floor boards here, a sigh there, the pounding of your heart breaking the silence. You hide under your blankets hoping to find some sort of comfort, but instead you realize that you are even more vulnerable in that state. So you take a quick peek here or there, and as your pupils finish dilating, you can make out the light switch across the room. And at first you think you can make it, but as you start to climb out of bed, you hesitate—remembering Mommy didn’t check for monsters. So now you are forced to risk your life based on whether or not you believe that something is out there in the dark. So what do you do? Nyctophobia. It’s real, scary, and you have it. It sounds quite serious; in fact, the word itself seems to diagnose you with some profound disorder. But disorder isn’t really the word for it—try something along the lines of affliction…or derangement. Life threatening? Possibly. But who knows. If you’re not shaking in your boots, this whole thing is obviously a big joke to you—or your lack of knowledge has blinded your sense of rationality. My guess is the latter, so I’ll break things down for you one measly step at a time. What you have is nyctophobia, also known as the absolute pantshitting fear of being surrounded by complete and utter darkness. Had you thinking that you had some life destroying condition for a second there, didn’t I? Go ahead. Laugh it off.
Oh, But It Is
Easily considered to be one of the most common phobias among humans, many of us believe nyctophobia to be completely trivial, and absolutely ridiculous. Millions of people worldwide suffer from this affliction, and it’s not just children like most of you are
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thinking—it plagues adults as well. As you age, untreated fears develop and progress until they are able to cause severe mental damage. As a child, the monster under your bed turns into the fear of being mugged on the street or the government trying to kidnap you as an adult. All of these situations are completely rational to a normal person, but to those suffering from nyctophobia, anything is possible. That monster wants to use you as an appetizer for his fancy dinner party. That mugger is an escaped convict who likes to pull teeth. And the government is trying to kidnap you. Everything is exponentially worse to nyctophobiacs. Through the sensory deprivation of sight, the “real” world is torn down and the nyctophobiac’s imagination rebuilds their surroundings, making any thought that flies through their mind a potential reality. Not much different from The Matrix—except all the characters are played by Keanu Reeves. But that seems absolutely normal, right? Spending your time in the fetal position in the corner worried that a large man with a chainsaw is coming to kill you? Or maybe it’s a small girl with a chainsaw. Who knows? It’s your imagination. Either way, you’re about to be cut into pieces. One thing that bothers me is this idea that hiding under a comforter will protect you from whatever it is out there that is trying to kill you. As if that blanket is somehow made out of some recently discovered titanium alloy that can withstand nuclear bombs. If that’s the case, please let me know where you bought it. I’d like to purchase one for myself. But I’m pretty sure it’s not. If whatever out there was real, it could carve through that blanket in seconds. So you’re screwed anyway you look at it. And, to me, that is the most tragic thing about nyctophobia. It isn’t being afraid of nothing or being afraid of something absolutely absurd that gets me—but the belief that your blanket has extraordinary protective capabilities. As a grown adult, that is not okay on any level.
No Turning Back
At what point does this condition begin to become serious? When you’re crying in the fetal position over something that is happening purely in your mind. Statistically speaking, 35 percent
Nyctophobia. It’s real, scary, and you have it.
of brutally violent deaths and kidnappings occur in movies, while 11 percent happen in real life. The remaining 54 percent occur in your imagination, and those are the most terrifying. Because there, anything is possible. You aren’t limited to the creativity of the director…or actual murderer. And do you now how many of these imaginations-gone-wild deaths occur each and every year? Too many. Too damn many. If the thought of your imagination heartlessly digging your grave isn’t enough to make you reconsider how dangerous nyctophobia is, then maybe you can fear the fact that, if given enough time, it will turn you into a zombie. Now you’re probably thinking, “Really, a zombie? Come on now. Everything else you’ve said has me shaking in my boots, but now you’re just being ridiculous.” Sadly, I’m not. You see even the mildest cases of nyctophobia will deprive the body of sleep. I mean, why turn the lights off in your room if you’re just going to end up dead. So days upon days go by and the now-sleep-deprived nyctophobiac slowly loses control of most bodily functions. They just mindlessly wander around attempting to perform even the most basic tasks. Anyway you look at it, most of their lives are in shambles at this point.
F inding a Cure Trying to quell the symptoms of nyctophobia is no easy task. You can’t just open up someone’s head and rearrange parts of their brain to make them think differently. Believe me, I’ve tried, and the outcome was not pretty. Almost positive I created a mass murderer there. But there are remedies out there designed to supposedly combat your fear of the dark, and return you to being a semi-functioning member of society. One of the most common methods, one used heavily in most parts of Texas, is “the closet.” Sound simple? Because it is. They quite simply lock the subject in a closet for six to eight days and hope that—if the poor thing comes out—he was able to fight whatever it was that was inside. But I wouldn’t consider it the most reliable method. Subjects tend to come out missing a limb or two, screaming about horned creatures. One six-year-old even
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came out with a necklace of wolf teeth. No one’s sure how that happened. In Western Europe, a common approach is to blindfold the nyctophobiac and force them to spend one month going through their daily lives in complete darkness. Though it did cure most patients, some cases resulted in loss of sight, increased sensitivity to sound, or serious head wounds from benders. Personally, I don’t see how it’s supposed to work. But it never gets old watching them attempt to find their way to work. However, due to the decreased productivity of the sightless workers, a new popular method has recently surfaced. You just sit in a room and are forced to watch all three Star Wars prequels in a row. The thought behind this is that after you’re done, there is no possible way your imagination could come up with anything worse. A similar approach is taken by the Scandinavians, who bring their victim (err… subject) to the top of a mountain and place them in a bathtub. The nyctophobiac is then pepper sprayed and shoved down the mountain. However, I’m not entirely sure as to whether this is a common Swedish prank or an actual cure. In the less civilized parts of Africa, South America, Asia, and Maine, the fear of the dark is believed to be a spiritual disorder— one that stems from within the soul rather than the mind. In the Savannahs of Africa, medicine men ritually paint nyctophobiacs with blood and send them out to the plains. There, they must stay for one night alone in the darkness. They believe that any evil will be expunged from the body, and if you are unable to let go of your fear, then you are eaten by a beast. In Maine, you are forced to stand in front of a bull moose in the dead of night. It is said that during the full moon, the moose will judge the purity of your fear. If it deems you unworthy… it will charge. Are some of these methods ridiculous? I mean, sure, how can you believe that squeezing lemon juice in your eye would ever rid your imagination of evil? Or sleeping in a car with a tiger? Completely absurd. But these methods here—they’re all you have if you want any chance of returning your life to normal. Otherwise, you’re basically fucked. •
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The Art of Storytelling “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story within you.”~ Maya Angelou
By Missy Brewer
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torytime—a promise that parents, grandparents, guardians, aunts, uncles, and babysitters around the world make to their kids, just so that the little ones will get through the bedtime routine and into their cozy beds. And then, once they are all tucked in and have their favorite stuffed animal next to them, the stories commence. Monsters and princesses and magic come alive at night, time after time. Some kids hear them straight from the books, while others listen as the storyteller recites it from memory, perhaps adding new details and embellishments. And— if storytime does its job—the children are content, entertained and sleepy by the time the story concludes. Their heads are filled with other worlds, nestling into their minds as they sleep. These first encounters with stories are key. As kids, we learn an appreciation for storytelling, an appreciation that grows and develops and transforms itself into new forms throughout the years. Stories teach us morals and lessons. They create characters that we become attached to until we don’t want to let them go when the story ends. Being told stories at a young age shapes our lives, opens our imaginations and brings families together. As we grow older, storytime grows with us, becoming more sophisticated, but also staying in the realm of night. People stay up into the wee hours of the morning watching late night television. Crowds flood theatres for night performances of their favorite productions. Couples go on dates to see a movie. The best ghost stories are told around a campfire with a group of friends. This tendency may never be fully worn out. Maybe we like the thrill of a new world—a new story—being created in the mysterious
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darkness of night holds endless possibilities, and is just right to house a brand new world. There are endless ways to tell a story. We most often think of storytelling through books. We start with children’s picture books, in which the illustrations help us to see the scene and we don’t have to complicate our lives of playing on swings and eating cookies with the task of fully creating someone else’s world in our heads. Kids, of course, have their own ways of telling stories, and do so beautifully. The imaginations of children are extensive and often more intricate than we realize. They can dream up a whole kingdom from one tiny dragon toy. So, we start storytelling when we’re young. Our books gradually have fewer pictures, smaller font and more pages, but book lovers never stop being thrilled by the story contained within the pages of a book. However, there are many other forms of storytelling beyond books. Film is another fantastic medium. The scripted stories of movies and television shows are brought to life on screen, and we no longer need to visualize the stories ourselves. No two movies or television shows are alike, just like no two stories are alike, making storytelling through film a beautiful and highly artistic form of storytelling. Even if a story has been done over and over again—Snow White, for example—each version tells a different story or adds another layer. We have the classic 1937 Disney animation—the one that is arguably the most well-known. But the story has been revamped, especially in recent years, to portray Snow as a stronger female character, the Evil Queen as having some misplaced good
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intentions, and the dwarves as not the merriest bunch of miners. Two movie adaptations have been released in the last three years—Mirror, Mirror, which is geared more towards children, and Snow White and the Huntsman, which is geared towards an older audience. Both of these revamps of the classic fairy tales have featured more of the Evil Queen, given Snow White a stronger, more self-sufficient character and have put prince Charming on the backseat in terms of having to save Snow. The television show Once Upon a Time also retells Snow White’s story, along with other classic fairy tales. In this version, the viewers are given a chance to feel sympathy for the Evil Queen because she does her evil in order to win her son’s love and to get revenge on Snow for a mistake she made as a child. In accordance with the recent film adaptations, Snow White is an independent young woman, who actually ends up saving Prince Charming. Why has Snow White evolved? Because of the times. We no longer live in a society in which there are damsels in distress tied to railroad tracks that need to be saved by a dashing swashbuckler. Society has realized (finally) that women are self-sufficient, so we have stopped buying into the classic stories. But they have a special place in our hearts, so we’ve modernized them—adjusted the stories so that the women and men work together to defeat the big bad villain, and fall more believably in love at the end. As this shows, any story can be changed to accommodate for changing roles, and then these stories can be told in any number of ways.
quickening, pauses and solos in an instrumental piece can all work together to tell the listener a story. The story is more easily interpreted, of course, when there are lyrics for the song. The lyrics can be literal and easy to follow—“There’s an old voice in my head that’s holding me back/Well tell her that I miss our little talks” (Of Monsters and Men’s “Little Talks” )—or they can be abstract and require some individualized interpretation by the listener—“Seven devils all around you/Seven devils in your house/See I was dead when I woke up this morning/And I’ll be dead when the day is done” (Florence+Machine’s “Seven Devils”). Now, both of these songs are fantastic in their own ways, and in the long run, it doesn’t matter if the lyrics are obvious. It doesn’t matter if listeners have a deep, resonating connection with the song or if they simply like the beat. What’s important is that there is a connection with the music, a pure enjoyment that comes from listening to the song. Different forms of storytelling morph into one another and with each new version, we are taken on different emotional journeys. Each new writer, director or actor puts his/her own spin on the story, and it continues to grow and grow until the revisions have offered new perspectives and tales. Take, for example, L. Frank Baum’s original series about the Land of Oz. The tale of Dorothy and her companions, officially named The Wizard of Oz, began as a book, and was then made into a beloved movie that featured the death of the Wicked Witch of the West at the end. This version also made its way on stage as a musical.
“...we’ve modernized them—adjusted the stories so that the women and men work together to defeat the big bad villain, and fall more believably in love at the end.” The stage is a medium of storytelling that I personally love, and it can be used in so many different ways. As in film, a theatrical production is based off of a script, and brought to life by the actors on stage and the set around them. Live performance is a unique form of art that is under-appreciated today. Each performance of a show is different—actors change their movement on stage, the way they say a line, their facial expressions, maybe a costume malfunction occurs or a prop breaks and the actors always have to work with it. Each performance is improvisation at its finest, because each performance is new. A story that is told on stage is truly present to the audience, so much that it is nearly impossible for an audience member to remain detached from a piece. The story is actually happening right before your eyes and—if the production is good—you won’t be able to tear your eyes away. Music is a highly independent form of storytelling. One individual can write the words to a song, accompany it with an instrument of some sort, and record it. In order to tell a story, music doesn’t even need words, but can instead take a listener on a journey through the instrumentals. The rises, falls, slowing, 22 FEATURES
Baum’s story was again adapted in 1978 as a modern story set in Harlem in a film called The Wiz, which also was transformed into a musical to be performed on stage. Author Gregory Maguire continued to transform the classic tale when he wrote Wicked— which told the stories of Glinda, the good witch, and Elphaba, the wicked witch—and gave fans the chance to learn more about the “villain’s” life, and even view her as the true protagonist of the tale. Musicals seemed to be a popular way to retell stories, as Wicked was outfitted with songs and put on stage in 2003. This past March, the movie Oz was released and depicted the Wizard’s adventure in the Land of Oz. One small story has been adapted, modernized, and revised so that it has gone on as large of a journey as its characters have. The books give readers the original tales, the movies help fans to visualize a mystical land, the musicals make the story really alive, and the adaptations create depth and background for characters that lacked it. When writers collaborate, masterpieces are created. Stories are a part of everyone, and so everyone can contribute to another person’s creative work. Sure, Henry David Thoreau could isolate
himself in the woods for two years and produce his best work, Walden. But most people aren’t Thoreau. We need people to bounce ideas off of and to work with in order to get a story published or produced. One small, unprofessional movie needs at least one actor, a director, a producer, a lighting technician and an editor at the bare minimum. One person could try to do all of these jobs, but to make the story the best that it can be, outside eyes need to review it and give feedback to the creator. Telling a story, whether it’s your own or not, takes patience, suspense and a good sense of timing. You can’t just jump straight to the end of a story and expect it to have the same effect. If the first Harry Potter novel had been condensed into ten pages and Professor Quirrell had simply walked up to Harry and started shooting spells right then, the franchise would not have succeeded or even existed. Yes, it would have saved a forest of trees and sure, we would still have known what happened to the boy wizard, but we wouldn’t have cared. Effective storytelling creates a connection between the audience and the characters. We can’t wait for the conclusion of a story because we want to know what happens to our beloved fictional brothers and sisters, not because we simply want the story to be over. One of the goals of a storyteller is to keep the audience wanting more. That is the indicator of “good storytelling.” The reader, viewer, or listener, always wants more. I believe that I have a story to tell. In fact, I believe that every living, breathing person has a story to tell, but not everyone knows how to tell it. I love being able to tell stories. I write, I act, I direct, I edit. Telling stories—whether it’s of my own creation or whether I’m helping to tell someone else’s—is what I enjoy doing the most. I could be the most active storyteller of the process— the writer, for instance—or I could be passively assisting in staging a story—pushing a button to make the lights on a stage come up. I have far too many ideas as to how I want to spend my life, but I know that I will be telling stories. And I want to help other people tell their stories. Finding the right medium for a story, capturing the right atmosphere, can be challenging, but every story fits somewhere. Every story can be told in some fashion, and every story deserves to be told. •
“I believe that I have a story to tell.”
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frozen in time
A STUDY IN LONG EXPOSURE PHOTOGRAPHY BY GABRIELLE UHRIG
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30 MODELLING BY NORMA VALDEZ AND COURTNEY WEIN
FEELING LIKE A CRIMINAL By Ramona Reed THE SYCAMORE / SPRING 2013 31
C
riminal: what does this word evoke for ordinary American citizens? Did you think about a song, a specific perpetrator of crime made famous by the news, or perhaps someone you know—someone who lives life “on the edge”? Or did you think of people that live completely submerged in the underworld—someone who exploits opportunity in order to survive? What is criminal? Why do I feel completely comfortable buying bootleg dvds? The argument against these actions is that it takes advantage of hardworking people; the people that produced the film don’t benefit financially from these transactions. Were these items made in sweatshops? The truth of the matter is, however, that most of the things we buy now are the product of labor conditions similar to slave-labor. According to Charles Fishman, a reporter from Fast Company, Wal-Mart’s demands for low prices from its suppliers leads to shipping more jobs overseas—leading to exploitation of Chinese workers. Our food systems exploit land and animals for cheap cost and push small farms out of business. This brings about the question: what is crime? In the pursuit of the American Dream or because of personal inclinations to greed—arguably one and the same—some do entertain crime as a way of life. Is crime the manifestation of a cultural preoccupation of greed or a better way of living, or is it merely deviation? Is crime natural, or is it only present in communities that rush forward to “prosperity,” leaving many behind to be poor and underserved? In Brooklyn, where I make my home, I can go into a public Laundromat any day of the week and have a woman ask me if I would like to buy a bootleg dvd for $5. The latest films are out: Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2, Les Miserables, and The Hobbit. I can expect the same thing in my local diner: every now and then, a woman will come in to sell her wares. The dvds are in a plastic bag, so it is obvious what she is selling. She greets the café staff and the waitresses all smile at her. Some of the women working behind the counter stop their work to see what movies she has, while most customers say, “No, thank you,” when she walks by. The small business man: that is who I see when someone is peddling their wares out of alleys and plastic bags. Movies, belts, bags, hats, glasses, and watches; they are all merchandise for cheap. You want that Gucci belt that costs $500, but how about a knockoff for $20? Why are these types of crimes punished so severely by our government when the lawful greed on Wall Street is only an hour’s train ride away? Some crimes are weighted differently than others, but our conviction of those we deem to be criminal depends on our perceptions of why they commit those crimes. Most of us would differentiate between the crimes of bootleg dvd salespeople, thieves, and murderers. The perception of a dvd salesperson, for example, could be someone who is “just making a living.” A thief could be supporting his family, but there are “good and bad thieves.” I interviewed four people and asked them to rank a bootleg salesperson, a thief, a banker and a murderer on a scale of one through four, four being the worst. They then told
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me what words or terms they associated with them and why they ranked them where they did. The results were as follows: Bootleg dvd/knockoff salesperson—1, 1, 2, 2 Thief—2, 2, 3, 3 Banker—1, 1, 3, 3 Murderer—4, 4, 4, 4 This poll was just to find out people’s perceptions of different groups of people, not to say all bankers are evil. Although murderers were given four’s by everyone that I spoke with, their associations with murderers all differed slightly. One interviewee said, “There’s never right to take someone’s life.” Another friend took a different approach: she thought of “war, … a killer or murder for ‘justice,’ and the death penalty.” A dictionary definition states that murder is “the crime of unlawfully killing a person especially with malice aforethought” (1Murder, noun). Another interviewee thought of a “serial killer, a homicidal maniac or sociopath.” The general consensus is that a murder is probably a “heartless bastard. He is the worst because he took a life. He could be murdering for justice, but I think there are better ways to go.” The most contentious debate during the group interview concerned the bankers. One person called them “evil devil spawn. The way I was brought up, and what I’ve been shown and exposed to, I don’t approve. They ruin people’s lives.” The perception of bankers was automatically of “a big Wall Street-get-away-witheverything kind of banker.” Two other interviewees mentioned the “people in my hometown. Small town people in small banks —they’re just doing their jobs;” “He’s not making up [taxes]; the job is just for money.” By conducting this interview, I was able to examine how our perceptions of someone’s place in society influence how we judge them. Even without being accused of a specific crime, the banker has his or her place in society questioned because of the actions of Wall Street dealers. We can pass judgment on these different types of people because we think we understand them. One interviewee said she had never even met or seen a bootleg dvd salesperson, but she took her perceptions from the television and conjured up an image of “a sketchy man in a trench coat on a street corner.” I have lived in New York City most of my life, and I have yet to meet this salesman. He’s not hiding dvds in the inside pockets of his coat; he has a store—a hole in the wall or a small stand nestled between well-known stores. Critics of what I might consider petty crime say, “Legitimate sales are being replaced by sales of counterfeit goods, and the people who create, package and legally sell music [which is as available as dvds] are paying the price. The damage is real and demonstrable and undercuts the economic foundation of the most creative and vibrant music industry in the world” (Piracy: On the Street). The best conclusion as to why I wouldn’t think about that when I buy bootleg products was summed up by an interviewee who said that bootleg dvd salespeople are “capturing
a market. It’s a minor crime because the people that they are hurting earn millions of dollars. I don’t think of this as hurting somebody.” The functionality of these crimes is that people get to participate in American material culture at a cheap price. The top-tier of our class system think that bootleg dvd salespeople take advantage of others’ hard work just to make a buck and the rest of us look at the upper class as exploiting a lot of people and the earth’s resources recklessly in order to make their livings. Everyone is pointing fingers at the other guy because they don’t want to take the blame for what they’re doing. We don’t want to see the people hurt by illegal video and music downloads, and the manufacturers of legal goods don’t want to care about the people earning cents on the dollar to what they deserve to make material goods. American culture is driven by material culture, and our perceptions of one another are influenced by how each one of us goes about getting those goods. Some people are just trying to survive and others are trying to stay on top. Our system increasingly revolves around material culture in the “haves” and the “have-nots.” Our perception of what is acceptable and unacceptable in crime—Wal-Mart’s exploitations as opposed to the bootlegger— changes over time. There was a time where exploiting goods and services were considered in a much worse light than they are today, but the years have taught us the complications of judging each perpetrator in the same way. As the lines of legality and morality begin to blur, we see that things are not so black and white. Each person might not perceive an action in the same way, but they can all form judgments on criminals. The ways in which we perceive crime and criminality matter just as much—if not more than—the things that have been written into law. We judge things based on our own upbringing and sometimes, we recognize someone’s efforts as “just trying to make a living.” In a world where our whole livelihood is dependent on money, it is difficult to generalize certain crimes; instead, we find that we need to judge each crime according to its circumstances. The crimes that we thought were being perpetrated in the night—the “man in a trench coat on a street corner”—have been brought to light. • Works Cited Fishman, Charles. The Wal-Mart You Don’t Know. Fast Company: 1 December 2003. Web. Accessed March 2013.
“Some crimes are weighted differently than others, but our conviction of those we deem to be criminal depends on our perceptions of why they commit those crimes.”
Fair Farm Rules: Enact the gipsa Rules. Food and Water Watch: n.d. Web. Accessed March 2013. Murder, noun. Merriam-Webster: n.d. Web. Accessed March 2013. 1
About Piracy: Piracy: On the Street. riaa: n.d. Web. Accessed March 2013.
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ADOPTING THE SITH CODE the ethics of the dark side by jeremiah miller
O
ur media thrives on assaulting us with debates including but not limited to: whether or not Justin Bieber’s chest hair was Photoshopped or how many ounces of liquid a disposable cup may hold within New York City limits. However, I’m always dismayed because never does Anderson Cooper and his silver mane tell me how to live a rewarding life. Fortunately, there is one company that is brave enough to bring these sorts of discussions into the home. Now, what sort of company is stirring up controversy and asking its viewers to ponder the meaning of life? Put your latte down because this may be shocking, but it happens to be the wholesome Disney and their Star Wars franchise. In this legendary science fiction franchise, viewers are faced with choosing between a number of different factions all with their own philosophies and politics for living. Jedi or Sith, Rebel Alliance or Galactic Empire, and—if you acknowledge the prequel trilogy—Republic or Trade Federation. Since the 1970s, the Sith have acquired the reputation of being evil, but I believe that genuinely good people can value and apply the Sith code without having to bring about the destruction of worlds. As Yoda might say, only once, you live, so join me as I provide an interpretation of the Sith code that allows for free living. What is the Sith the code? In its simplest form, the Sith code is an ethos for living one’s life. Now before you think, “Oh great... more cryptic musings from an extremist cult,” I’ll have you know that, unlike the stodgy, old masters of the Jedi Council, we Sith have shaped our code in a way that encourages our followers to carve their own path to a fulfilling life. The code goes as follows:
“Peace is a lie, there is only Passion; Through Passion I gain strength, Through Strength, I gain Victory, Through Victory my Chains are Broken; The Force shall free me.” (Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic)
What does this mean? At first glance, it may appear to suggest that a Sith cannot be peaceful, but that suggestion is only an illusion. The code does not discourage peace but rather recognizes that people (along with other life forms that adhere to moral codes) are creatures filled with impulses and emotions, and thus encourages its followers to acknowledge that passions are a present force in their lives. More than just acknowledging passions as a
powerful presence, the Sith code promotes the use of extremes in emotion—or passion—as fuel to draw motivation and inspiration from. Love, anger, anxiety, hate, and compassion are emotions that can—and often do—exist in extremes, but they should not be suppressed. Instead, through acknowledging, accepting and directing their passions, a Sith gains strength. To clarify, what strength may include is more than merely a measurement of physical ability. A Sith can find strength in a myriad of tactics— be they diplomacy, cunning, kindness, or any route that a Sith has—or makes—available to themselves. By using their passions to motivate the cultivation of other skills, a Sith gains power. To use an example Palpatine fans would enjoy, our passions are like electricity. Undirected electricity can cause raging wildfires, but if channeled properly, it can power civilization. Some may argue that passions such as anger cannot be used positively. The notion that one must be tranquil in order to live a happy life is absurd. The Jedi fear what lengths one will go to if they use their passion, and certainly it is a scary road, but in following the Jedi’s strict code of ethics, an individual is rendered incapable of being true to themselves. Now some may ask, “What about Anakin? He uses his passions as motivation and look what that got him.” Yes, Anakin Skywalker used his passions and that got him a lava bath on Mustafar, some of the Empire’s finest prosthetics, and a dead Padme. Anakin’s problem—while yes, he used his passions—was that he failed to evaluate the outlets that would have allowed him to accomplish his goals. More than that—Anakin, while passionate, allowed his self worth and happiness to be quantified by what others value, instead of what he as an individual valued. The problem with Anakin—and what prevented him from living an authentic life—is that the thought of his own death never occurred to him. Both of Anakin’s most passion-driven moments were at the thoughts of his loved ones dying. Now, why is the recognition of one’s own mortality important? As Thomas E. Wartenberg puts it, “The impetus to conformity is the denial of death” (Wartenberg 134). In denying death (or not acknowledging your own as a possibility), an individual readily conforms to the wants of others. Anakin’s status as the chosen one prevented him from being confronted by his own mortality. By not having to confront the possibility of his own death, Anakin never had the chance to realize he, for all of his life, had been living according to the norms of others. Martin Heidegger
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calls this “the dictatorship of They” (Wartenberg 129). Anakin derived his happiness by garnering the approval of others: pod racing fans, the Jedi Council, and even Chancellor Palpatine. In essence, Anakin never did anything authentic. One could argue that Anakin’s passions got out of control, but that is just a lack of accountability. In placing the blame of one’s actions on their passions, they assert that their passions are a force outside of their control. Now, a Sith recognizes the power they possess over themselves and acknowledges that any decision they make is within their realm of control, and thus is authentic. One could look at Anakin and say that as Lord Vader it is very possible that every decision he made—mostly his decision to kill almost everyone—was authentic. If we stare into the authentic Vader’s death count, it may stare back and confront us with a chilling idea: that an authentic Sith may be nothing but a selfinterested sociopath. What do we do? It appears that Simone de Beauvoir is our only hope. In Ethics of Ambiguity, Beauvoir argues, “Every man needs the freedom of other men and, in a sense, always wants it, even though he may be a tyrant” (Wartenberg 142). Why is the freedom of others necessary? Essentially, because humans are social beings, we need to interact with others whose freedom we support to ensure we are truly free (Wartenberg 144). For example, Vader’s choice to assist in the execution of Order 66 (The plan where they kill all the Jedi) firmly established him as a foe of the Jedi. In doing this he was met with opposition and continued to kill Jedi. In doing this Vader, with every Jedi he killed, reinforced the idea that he was Sith lord; however, by being constantly associated with a label he contradicts his nature as a free being. Simply, a Sith must recognize the freedom of others in order to be free himself. A curious Sith may want to know what kept Yoda going for some 900 years What do Shane and the Jedi—or as they call themselves, the “light” side (they got to pick which side of brightness scale they were on, and we got to design a logo first)— have to offer? The Jedi have been parading around the galaxies
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promoting the dream of living a meaningful existence through conforming to a set of norms prescribed by a governing body. First, I would like address the values that the Jedi adhere to. The Jedi encourage living a moderate life. For example the craving, or impulse, a person has to go to a dive and get greasy food with their friends would be suppressed by a Jedi. A Jedi would argue that through acting on that impulse, we are only seeking to derive happiness from an external source. The Jedi may convince his peers that the grease will make them feel bad about themselves, if not outright physically ill from what is being ingested. Now imagine going to a party with this guy. Everyone gets to a point in the evening where they are pleasantly in whatever state they choose to be. The Jedi may force pull away the bottle from the guy in the corner double fisting and say, “Our minds shan’t indulge too much.” In other words, fun is fun but now the fun is done. The problem is, in the Jedi’s world, fun is always done. And sure this Jedi may not be so bad to hang out with, but deep down he feels a rewarding life is gained through tempered emotions, and —assuming he cares for his friends and family—he will want to share that philosophy of tempering emotions. Now, from the alleged dark side of the room, I do not think the Jedi fully consider the consequences of tempering emotions —any 13-year-old boy will tell you that tempered emotions lead to a soggy, sticky bed. The Jedi would have this developing boy feel conflicted about his urges rather than take care of them or sublimate them into other activities. For examples of how the Jedi treat their adolescent boys, look no further than when Anakin —and this is more serious than pubescent urges—fears losing his mother. Yoda says that fear leads to the dark side. Instead of admonishing Anakin, Yoda could have taken the time out of his day to explain that our lives in this universe are temporary and that while we can have our feelings and doubts, dwelling on them does not make our interactions with one another better. Instead, Yoda tells Anakin to let go of everything. One not need let go of everything to be happy, but they must ensure that they are
engaging in what actually makes them happy rather than what “They” would like you to be content with. Now, Shane asserts that “when we let our passions run wild, our identities become partially defined by the objects of our passions.” The response I can provide is this: so long as our passions are rooted in experiences that make our life fulfilling, it matters not if they are external to us, so long as we acknowledge that ours is the most important role in choosing what makes us happy. Through observing the ways of the Sith, you will find yourself living a life filled with authenticity, but if you follow the Jedi not only will you fail to be true to yourself, you will also be denying yourself many of the simple pleasures of life. All I can say for certain is that the Sith code provides for a life filled with intention and uniqueness—search your feelings, you know it to be true. •
works cited Ansell-Pearson, Keith. How to Read Nietzsche. London: Granta, 2005. Print. Bioware. Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. LucasArts, 2003. Xbox. Wartenberg, Thomas E. Existentialism: A Beginner’s Guide. Richmond: Oneworld, 2008. Print.
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E vening
By Keegan Evans
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42 MODELLING BY JEREMIAH MILLER, BECKY WIND, FAHAD RAHMAT, CASEY JAMIESON, AND NICOLE BERGMANN
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Another
Sleepless
Night
By Lindsey Wood
I
knew the war would not be easy for anyone and that my family in particular would have many sleepless nights until it was over—though I never dreamed of anything like the night of April 26th, 1776. When Father became colonel of the Fredericksburg militia fighting against the most powerful army in the world, we all knew it meant things would become that much more dangerous. And then when General Howe put a price of three hundred English guineas on his head, any hope of a quiet life even in the safety of our home vanished. Fredericksburg, New York was not like the British-occupied New York City, but there were still some in the area loyal to the crown, especially if they stood to gain three hundred guineas for their services. So Rebecca and I started making nightly patrols around the farm. Mother had not been pleased with the idea of two girls marching around the property carrying rifles but our brothers were not old enough for such a task and she was just as worried as we were. So she had been forced to accept our decision as the best chance our family had at even a little peace of mind. It meant staying up a little later and working harder to finish our chores but it was worth it. Besides, at least that was doing something which seemed better than lying awake afraid that snapping twig or rustle in the woods was a bounty hunter approaching the house. Though to be honest, I still did a good deal of that too. We had finished our patrol for the night—a very unpleasant one as it started to rain towards the end of our rounds. My shoes THE SYCAMORE / SPRING 2013 45
had a fresh coat of mud along their bottoms, forcing me to take them off at the door rather than track it through the house. It would be easier to clean them when the mud was dry in the morning. After peeking into the boys’ room to see they were all in bed, I went to the weaving room to sweep up the scattered strands of wool and fiber as well as any dust that had settled on the floor. As the oldest child at sixteen, caring for my siblings came naturally to me now. Rebecca went to blow out the candles in the parlor, Mother was already upstairs with little Abby, and Father was in the sitting room, most likely working on plans for his gristmill. Once the weaving room was completely tidy, I went to the room I shared with Rebecca and Mary. Mary was already in bed—though she must have only finished her chores a few minutes before I did—and Rebecca was in her nightgown, about to get into the bed. Looking forward to nestling under the warm blankets, I was just about to untie the stays of my stockings when there was frantic knocking at the door. Mary sat bolt upright and Rebecca practically leapt out of the bed as I spun around. “Stay with Mary,” I told Rebecca, not waiting for a response as I rushed out of the room. My heart was pounding as images of attacking Loyalists flashed through my mind. Mother came down from the second floor just before I passed the staircase, and I could hear the faint sound of little Abby crying in Mother and Father’s room—probably woken by the noise and frightened by Mother’s reaction to it. Father had already opened the door and a young man stood in front of him. The first thing I noticed was the stranger’s posture, slumped and breathing heavily—not the stance of an assassin. The pounding in my chest eased, though every muscle remained tense. Beside me, Mother seemed to relax as well, though her eyes never left the man in the doorway. He was drenched from the rain—he could only have stepped inside a second ago but there was already a puddle forming around his feet. “Colonel Ludington…the British…they’re burning Danbury!” The man panted, not wasting even a moment to catch his breath before delivering his message. Father gave a curt nod and gestured for the man to go to the sitting room and dry off by the fire. We all followed him and watched as he collapsed in the wooden chair beside the fireplace.
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I took a deep breath and pushed my worries aside. He would never agree if he detected even a hint of fear in my voice or expression.
He was still breathing heavily and his muddied clothes were torn in a few places by twigs and branches, suggesting he had been riding hard and long. Father looked from the messenger to the fire deep in thought. I knew why such news, coming now, was especially distressing. The idea of a city being burned was terrible enough, but Father’s men were scattered throughout Fredericksburg having been given time to manage their farms. Riding out to gather them himself was not an option as he had to be at our house and ready to lead them the moment they had all arrived if there was to be any chance of saving Danbury. I knew what needed to be done, so I took a deep breath and pushed my worries aside. He would never agree if he detected even a hint of fear in my voice or expression. “I’ll go, Father,” I said, stepping forward. “Sybil, it’s dangerous.” Mother said placing her hand on my shoulder. “I’ve gone with you to the men’s houses often enough, I know the way,” I persisted. “That was in the daytime and with me,” Father replied seriously, his stoic manner making it impossible for me to guess whether he was at least considering the idea. “I know I also told you about the sort of people who prowl through these woods, not to mention the natural dangers.” Men known as Cowboys and Skinners had been roaming the woods in our area since the beginning of the war. Officially, Cowboys aided the British and Skinners helped the Patriots but generally it was best to avoid both groups whenever possible. Regardless of whichever title they claimed, the people of Fredericksburg had come to consider the majority of them thieves who took whatever they pleased from any traveler. They had been known to claim to suspect any travelers as an excuse to rob them. “I doubt they will be very active in this storm,” I said—in truth, I really had no idea if the weather would deter them but I hoped it would. “Besides, there is no other option. You must be here to meet the men if you are to reach the British in time, Archibald is too young for such a ride, and this gentleman is in no state to ride again.” Father paused a moment as we made eye contact. I held his gaze, not letting myself think of anything other than how this had to be done for our country. It only took him a second or two
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to decide, though it felt like hours. We were all painfully aware that time was precious if he was to do anything to help Danbury. “Get a cloak and hat,” he instructed. “I’ll have Star ready for you outside.” Everything after that went by so fast. I remember Mother fastening my cloak as I tied a broad brimmed hat on, making sure it would stay in place on top of my hooded cloak. She told me to be careful, giving me a tight embrace before I hurried out the door and to the stable. Seeing the heavy rain and how it dampened my cloak just in going the distance from the house to the stable, I braced myself for the hardest journey I had ever made and silently vowed to give Star some extra treats this week for what I was about to put her through. I helped Father finish saddling her and mounted her the second that everything was ready. Father held me back for just a moment to tell me to be careful. He must have known Mother would say that too, but I suppose he needed to as well. Then I was off, urging Star on at full speed. The rain had soaked through my cloak before I reached the first house but I ignored it, intent on completing my task. I was riding faster than I ever tried before but it still seemed to take too long. All I could think about was Danbury in flames and Father counting on me to get his men to him in time to help fight the British off. I only dismounted when there was no way Star could get close enough to the houses; I pounded on doors, struck bells with a stick I had picked up early on, and shouted as loud as I could the news about Danbury and that the regiment was to meet at the Ludington farm. I had to tell some of the men to go to a few other houses on their way because even though it meant they would have to make a slight detour, they and all the other men would still get to our house sooner than if I individually stopped at each house. Forty miles later, the sun was beginning to rise. I’m not sure how long I had been riding but when my home finally came into sight all the men were gone, though the churned up mud was an unmistakable sign that the regiment had all been there. Someone must have been waiting for me by the parlor window because Mother, Rebecca, and Archibald came running out as soon as I slid out of the saddle. I was soaking wet and covered in mud splatter but Mother did not even tell me to take my shoes off.
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Instead, she ushered me into the house as Rebecca and Archibald went to tend to Star. The other children were clustered in the hall; Tertullus was bouncing with excitement as he told me about how he woke up in time to see Father’s regiment. I smiled at him; it was a rare occurrence to see the four year-old pleased to have been woken by anything. Henry tugged on my sleeve. “What happened on your ride?” I tried to answer but found my throat so sore that the first syllable scratched against my throat and made me grimace. “Sybil can share stories later,” Mary chided the boys as she rocked little Abby in her arms. Derick stood groggily beside her, too sleepy to ask questions. “Come dear; let’s get you out of those wet things and into bed,” Mother told me as she guided me towards my bedroom and Mary ushered the children back into the kitchen. “I’m cooking breakfast soon,” she informed me as she helped me change into a new shift. “Your father wanted you to know how proud he is of what you did. Now, you’ve more than earned a good rest. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.” “So the men got here in time?” I asked just loud enough for her to hear as I climbed into bed, ignoring the pain in my tired throat in my need to be certain. I was grateful for the soft mattress and blankets as what felt like every muscle in my body suddenly became aware of how tense they had been all night. “Yes, you’ve done wonderfully,” Mother assured me, “now ‘tis up to the men to deal with the British.” She kissed my forehead before adding, “And I’m so very glad you came back safely.” She drew the bed curtains closed, blocking out most of the sunlight, and left me to fall asleep almost instantly. Later I would think about what I did and smile at the thought of helping the cause of liberty, but this morning I was just happy to be home in my bed. I knew I would spend many nights awake during the war but I never expected that one such night would be spent riding through the woods in pouring rain to gather my father’s regiment. That was the most satisfying sleepless night I ever had. •
Lindsey Wood is a Senior History Major.
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“RHAPSODIES OF FIRE AND FIRE” The Argument for Imagination in “Evening Without Angels” by Peter Johnsen
W
allace Stevens’s work is as consistent as the world’s daily movement into night. It’s frequently rhetorical and concerned with the relationship between reality and imagination, also often arguing against theism. His poetry repeatedly suggests that it is not God but imagination that gives our lives meaning and that we should accept and embrace the absence of divinity. Stevens’s poem, “Evening Without Angels,” like his famous rhetorically-minded “Sunday Morning,” is an appeal for atheism and imagination. These poems are highly didactic and rhetorical. They’re arguments against God and against the association between atheism and nihilism. The form, diction, and imagery used in “Evening Without Angels” construct a convincing case for the exaltation of human perception and imagination and against finding meaning through religion. In this poem, Stevens celebrates the experience of an evening without angels; one in which we may gaze on night’s beauty with eyes uncorrupted by the set and immovable associations provided by religion. For Stevens’s speaker, evening’s miracles are made more true and beautiful by the absence of angels than they ever were clouded by visions of divine providence. The poem is broken up into an epigraph and five stanzas. The epigraph by Mario Rossi establishes the focus of the poem’s 50 ACADEMIC PAPER CONTEST
exaltation, that is: “The great interests of man: air and light,/the job of having a body, the voluptuousness/of looking.” These lines introduce the poem and make it clear that it will be exploring our sensory experience of the world. Its implication is that simply experiencing the world—raw and unfiltered—can bring joy. The first stanza builds on this sentiment by asking, “Why seraphim like lutanists arranged above the trees?/And why the Poet as eternal chef de’ orchestre?” The speaker is asking why we must populate the sky with angels, and why these fictional beings should be the preoccupation of art. Here, the angels are described as “lutanists.” This seems to be a misspelling of Lutenist, someone who plays a lute. But, it may actually be an intentional misspelling meant to invoke images of other religious entities with less positive associations, like Lucifer and Satan. In this image, the angels are the orchestra and the poet is the conductor, reflecting Stevens’s consistent theme of poetry as a way to organize and order the world. It also introduces the argument that beings like angels are inventions of the imagination, which may be arranged and directed by it like a conductor arranges his chorus. The next two stanzas make it clear that angels are not a part of reality but are actually creations of the imagination. The second stanza begins, “Air is air/its vacancy glitters around us everywhere.”
“Let this be clear that we are men of sun And men of day and never of pointed night” —Wallace Stevens (1879-1955) The sky does not house heaven or angels, but its vacancy ‘glitters.’ It is beautiful in and of itself. The stanza continues to say that, “Its sounds are not angelic syllables/but our unfashioned spirits realized more sharply/in more furious selves.” This image suggests that the phenomena we attribute to deities are simply projections of our own imaginations. The answer to the question of what the poem’s “sounds” might refer to is hinted at in the diction of these lines. The words “unfashioned,” “sharply,” and “furious” may suggest the sound of thunder, a natural phenomenon that’s frequently attributed to the movements of deities. Thunder itself is impersonal, but we project ferocity onto it through our imagination. After addressing the vacancy of the sky, the speaker moves on to the other subject of Mario Rossi’s quote—light. Here, the speaker questions whether the sun was made for angels or men. At first, he acknowledges the idea that light bathes angels in radiance, makes them beautiful as if it was made for them. However, he immediately discounts this, saying, “Sad men made angels of the sun,/and of the moon, made their own attendant ghosts,/which led them back to angels, after death.” He is explicitly stating that people made up angels when they sought to order and understand the world, life, and death. Light was not made for angels. If light was made for anyone, it was made
for humanity. We observe light and, through it, we observe the world—then filter our perceptions though the imagination. In this way, we take reality and create the unreal, like angels. Although angels are a product of this celebrated process, the poem argues that such pre-established figments actually bring us father from the truth and grandeur of the imagination. In the fourth stanza, the voice of the speaker briefly changes, offering a counter argument. The lines “Let this be clear that we are men of sun/and men of day and never of pointed night” seem to be the introduction to a defense of the “sad men” of the last stanza. Stevens often uses the day and the sun as symbols of reality, with the moon and the night representing imagination. In this context, it is as if the sad men are claiming that their beliefs are true and their subjects are real. The lines “Men that repeat antiquest sounds of air/In an accord of repetitions” indicate that this argument is about to be refuted. “Antiquest” is a superfluous word for antique. These sad men who still imagine angels have imaginative lives that consist of nothing new or unique. Their imaginative revelry is only repetition, antique and stale. They all agree, and seem to think the world also gives its assent. They say, “If we repeat, it is because the wind/Encircling us, speaks always with our speech,” an argument that is intrinsically and intentionally flimsy. In previous lines, this kind of life is THE SYCAMORE / SPRING 2013 51
established as antique and repetitive. The meaning between these lines is that the air speaks with their speech because they heair their own words in it that they have for so long repeated. Simply put, they’re projecting their imaginations on the world and taking this as proof that their ideas are reality. Although religion is a product of the imagination, it is unoriginal, stale and repetitive. It actually restricts the imagination by prescribing what it should see and is farther from the truth than what we see in the world un-coerced and uncorrupted. The stance of this poem is that the imaginative lens through which we interpret the world should be clean and not muddled by pre-constructed ideas. The next stanza makes explicit the process described earlier, in which reality is interpreted through the imagination. It is particularly significant in terms of its effect on the tempo and movement of the poem. The stanza begins by continuing to address light and the rising sun in the East, then it moves to evening, darkness, and rest. While the meter and punctuation of the poem has remained fairly constant to this point, the second half of this poem introduces a change. As the discussion of the light and day moves into the desire for night, silence, and rest, the tempo slows. The speaker beings: “… Evening, when the measure skips a beat/And then another, one by one, and all/To a seething minor swiftly modulate.” The ellipsis that introduces the last stanza marks a pause in the poem, skipping a beat. The musical language of these lines creates aural images that mirror the poem’s change in rhythm, which itself reflects the way people begin to slow down in the evening and prepare for rest. Thus, as the discussion of night progresses, the poem’s pace slows and the intensity of the argument recedes. It “skips a beat,” and then settles into stillness. This final stanza marks he arrival of evening in the poem, and after its music fades, it begins anew by resetting the poem’s focus and tempo. These final lines show the reader the worth of what remains in an evening without angels and provide a counterpoint to the description of the sun people’s repetitions in the third stanza. Here, the speaker says, “Bare night is best. Bare earth is best. Bare, bare,/Except for our own houses.” This cryptic message
52 ACADEMIC PAPER CONTEST
is meant to convince the reader that a bare, unfiltered perception of reality is richer than one muddled by religion in which the forms of the cosmos have already been shaped and set by human imaginations of the past. For the speaker, the only thing better than bare reality is “our own houses”: our minds’ unique and individual imaginations. This appeal for originality and individuality contrasts with the sun people’s mantric repetition of their echoes in the wind. Instead of the staleness of that wind in the third stanza, in the final stanza the night is ablaze with beauty. The sky is “bangled” with stars that seem consumed by “rhapsodies of fire and fire.” Without angelic associations, the stars’ raw beauty can shine through. The poem ends by associating the true self (or human soul) with these uncorrupted minds, huddling beneath these rhapsodies of fire and sky: “Where the voice that is in us makes a true response, Where the voice that is great within us rises up, As we stand gazing at the rounded moon.” The clear and uncorrupted imagination is capable of bringing beauty to an evening and meaning to our lies that neither God nor angels ever could. In this poem, an evening without angels is the more sacred approach of night—it is only without co-opting our imaginations with antiquest ideas like religion that we can truly experience the power and the glory that’s alive in the world. Far from embracing nihilism, this poem’s denial of God’s existence exalts us and imbues us with God’s own generative power. As the epigraph suggests, beauty and meaning are things sculpted from air and light; truth is wrought from the generative dynamos of our own imaginations. •
Work Cited Stevens, Wallace. The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens. New York: Vintage, 1990. Print.
Peter Johnsen is a Senior English Major.
Sonnets on the Moon Float Away
One, dull of senses, shines bright in a crowd like how a single cent in a score of dimes rolls proud. Brows furrow and, it’s true, backs sweat. Eyes with the cute girl next to me are not even once met. Heads ache and dully throb as the muses sit, sigh, and sob; reflective poems on the moon are quickly cut short,
By Fahad Rahmat
while ruminations on Helen have no new report, nor quick retort.
Thinking about night, and then of day leave me with little novelty to convey. Then naturally, come dusk and dawn to which clichéd parallels are constantly drawn. If this poem doesn’t help me get laid, just like the last twenty years—everything will have stayed.
Fahad Rahmat is a Junior English Major with a minor in Physics.
THE SYCAMORE / SPRING 2013 53
PHOTOGRAPHY CONTEST WINNER MARISSA BURNS IS A SENIOR STUDIO ART MAJOR.
54 PHOTO & STUDIO ART CONTEST
THE SYCAMORE WELLS COLLEGE’S STUDENT MAGAZINE / SPRING 2013
Day the
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