Nước Mắm

Prompt: Write About A Time You Felt Out of Place

Nước mắm, also known as fish sauce in English, is a staple of Vietnamese cuisine. Fish sauce is a liquid condiment made out of fermented fish or krill. Fish sauce is added to practically every single Vietnamese dish and sometimes used to "enhance" American dishes. For instance, when my grandmother first taught me how to cook scrambled eggs she taught me to season the eggs with fish sauce and I didn't realize this was abnormal until years later. My mom cooked a traditional Thanksgiving this year and I remember she remarked that cooking American food was so weird because she didn't have to use any fish sauce. So when I say fish sauce is a staple of Vietnamese cuisine, that was actually a bit of an understatement. Fish sauce is everywhere in Vietnamese cooking. I'm not joking. When I was googling how to make fish sauce, I found this food blogging website that stated fish sauce is such an integral part of Vietnamese cuisine that it should be a "prerequisite" to being Vietnamese. And, I don't know how to put this, but they're both wrong and not wrong at the same time.

My mom always complains that I'm a picky eater and she's not wrong. When I was young, I ate a lot of fish sauce because the rest of my family did so. I don't remember when it happened, but one day I stopped liking the taste of fish sauce. Looking back I think my hatred of fish sauce stems from my hatred of condiments, in general (There's a special kind of hatred I reserve for mayo and ketchup). Nevertheless, refusing to eat fish sauce became a part of my identity. Every dinner my mom used to pass the fish sauce container and I would refuse. Eventually, my mom just stopped asking me if I wanted fish sauce with my food (Although I'm 100% certain that she sometimes sneaks fish sauce into my food). Looking back, I think my dislike for fish sauce was special in that it somehow embedded itself in my identity. I hate ketchup but my hatred for ketchup isn't a defining feature of who I am. My hatred for the fish sauce isn't an inherently defining trait of mine, rather my family's response to my hatred of fish sauce made my dislike of fish sauce into an identity.

Whenever I refuse to eat fish sauce my mom would always joke that I've become more American than Vietnamese. She would always say that phrase in a jovial tone but I could always hear the undercurrent of disappointment my mom hid underneath that phrase. On the flip side, whenever I did something "Vietnamese" my family would always act so surprised as if a miracle had occurred. I remember saying a Vietnamese idiom and how my parents stopped their conversation to congratulate me for speaking Vietnamese on a basic level. I remember stress eating chè đậu đen (which is a Vietnamese dessert that's basically composed of a sweet soup made out of black beans and covered with a sweet coconut sauce) at midnight. My mom walked into the kitchen and remarked that she was surprised that I knew how to eat chè đậu đen. She didn't say it aloud but I could read between the lines, my mom was surprised that I was "Vietnamese enough" to be able to eat chè đậu đen. So, in some strange way, my dislike of fish sauce represents some sort of cultural divide between myself and my parents. Somehow I'm not "Vietnamese enough" because I can't eat fish sauce or have a different palate than my parents. And I know it's stupid to base your cultural identity on what type of food you eat and there isn't any correct way to be Vietnamese, but sometimes the jokes still get to me. Sometimes I'll be eating dinner with my parents. We would be speaking Vietnamese around the dining room table but as I watch my parents dip their eggrolls into their fish sauce or season their noodles with fish sauce, I would still feel out of place. I would feel too American.

Even though I rarely eat fish sauce, I have vivid childhood memories associated with it. My family ironically stores fish sauce in one of those Kikkoman brand soy sauce containers. So even though the bottle's label still says soy sauce, trust me, there isn't any soy sauce in there. We've also never replaced our fish sauce container -- I'm pretty sure that bottle is older than me. I also remember that when we bought fish sauce from the store, my mom had to specifically buy this brand that had three crabs on the label. Usually, we buy fish sauce in bulk. I remember we once bought this entire cardboard box filled with at least ten bottles of fish sauce. And of course, I remember the distinctly pungent scent of fish sauce. So even though I rarely eat fish sauce, when other Vietnamese people make jokes about fish sauce I can still relate to them. I still laugh at my cousins' jokes about fish sauce. So ironically enough, while fish sauce still represents a cultural divide between myself and Vietnamese culture, I still use fish sauce as a common connection point between myself and the rest of my Vietnamese family. It's weird to say this but fish sauce simultaneously represents how I feel "too American" and "not American enough".

Thank You Caffeine

I am thankful for all things caffeinated — coffee, tea, soda, energy drinks, caffeine pills. I get it, we’re all stressed uni students substituting caffeine for sleep. I’m not going to lie, part of the reason why I’m thankful for caffeine is because without caffeine I wouldn’t be a functioning person. So thank you caffeine for giving me the motivation to not sleep through first period, for giving me just enough energy to do webassign, for jump starting my brain to awakeness. I’m thankful for caffeine because of the jolt of alertness caffeine sends through me. In junior year, I started my tradition of buying disgustingly sweet coffee from Einstein’s or Espresso Royale before any particularly hard exams. I didn’t drink coffee because I needed it to stay awake, instead I liked how coffee made me feel. I liked the hyperactivity. I liked how coffee made me tap my fingers quickly. I used to joke that I wasn’t funny but some unholy combination of sleep deprivation and caffeine made me funny. Sometimes when I drink coffee, I surprise myself — sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way. 

I don’t know where this quote from or where I heard first say it but years ago told me that, “Sleep was like little slices of death.” And that quote resonated with me, partially because the metaphor intrigued me, and partially because I could relate to it. I’m not thankful to caffeine itself. Rather, I’m thankful to caffeine because I hated sleep. When I was a kid, I used to hate nap time. Why would I want to close my eyes and sleep when I could just spend another hour playing around. I wanted to spend every minute of every day doing something. Now a days, I’m a little more worn down but my hatred of sleep still burns with the same intensity. Why sleep when you can grind out a few more pages of an essay? Why sleep when you can study just a little more for a test. I guess I started to prioritize grades over sleep and caffeine allowed me to do that. But my hatred of sleep runs deeper than that. 

Have you ever gotten home super tired then you spend all your time doing homework? And by the time you finished all of your work, it’s already dark outside? That’s happened to me multiple times and I’m always end the day feeling super frustrated. At the end of those types of days, I’m angry because I wanted a few hours of the to be devoted solely to solely me. I wanted time to relax or binge watch shows. I felt like sleep was stealing hours of the day from me. So when I’m feeling particularly rebellious on those nights, I’ll drink another cup of coffee and stay up a few hours longer. In some ways, drinking coffee felt like an act of rebellion. I refused to let my life be consumed by work, so I’ll make more time in the day for me. I’ll stay up a few more hours to watch cat videos on youtube or read one more chapter of a novel.

But now, even if somehow science eliminated my body’s need for sleep, I think I’ll still continue to drink my daily for coffee. I’m thankful for coffee, because drinking a cup of coffee has become a calming morning ritual to me. There’s something calming about scooping out fresh coffee grounds and smelling their rich and familiar scent. I’m comforted by the familiarity of the sound of boiling water being poured through the filter. The heat on my fingers from gripping a cup of fresh hot coffee calms me. I’ve made coffee so many times, that my body goes on auto-pilot. I could make coffee in my sleep. The routines of making coffee has engraved itself onto my schedule to the point where I can’t imagine waking up on a weekday morning and not making coffee.

Champaign and Urbana People

Have you ever met someone and just immediately got a gut feeling that they’re an Urbana person or a Champaign person? (And of course, there are the undergrad students who don’t seem to fit in any of these bubbles). It’s happened to me a few times. I don’t remember where I was or who I was talking to (perhaps at a friend’s birthday party?) when someone began talking about bats in Champaign Urbana. Apparently, someone was keeping track of the bats that visited their backyard. And then a friend of mine remarked, “That’s such an Urbana thing to do.” Factually that statement doesn’t make sense, but as a person who has lived in Urbana her whole life, it makes sense to me. I don’t know it’s just harder for me to imagine some person from Champaign camping out in their backyard at midnight, squinting at some trees in hopes of catching a glimpse of a bat. Champaign and Urbana just have different characters and vibes— Is this making sense to you?

To fully address the issue of Champaign and Urbana people, I need to give you some historical context. So here’s my super brief summary of the history of Champaign and Urbana. Urbana was first settled in 1822 (And apparently first called Big Grove). In 1833, the town was officially named Urbana after another town in Ohio with the same name. As you probably vaguely recall from Mr. Butler’s class, the creation of Champaign is entwined with the Illinois Central Railroad. Basically, the tracks of the Chicago Branch of the Illinois Central Railroad were laid to the west of Urbana. And of course, cities tend to sprout up near train tracks. And so West Urbana was formed and grew increasingly separate from Urbana. In 1861, West Urbana changed officially changed its name to Champaign and you probably know how the rest of the story goes from here. Consequently, Champaign has always felt like the busier more economically developed city while Urbana gives off more historic and natural vibes. Champaign feels larger, louder, and bustling compared to Urbana and that difference can be seen in the stark differences between downtown Urbana and downtown Champaign. And, I guess, sometimes I extrapolate that fact to the people of Champaign-Urbana. 

When I think of Urbana, I think of green trees. I don’t know why but my mind just jumps to that association. I also think of cobblestone streets and the sound your car makes when they drive over them. The historical touch the cobblestone streets bring just screams Urbana. And maybe it’s just me, but it’s hard for me to picture a quiet cobblestone streets with a bunch of green trees on the side of the road and a few squirrels running around in Champaign (Although, I’ll admit I’m saying this from a biased perspective — I spend most of my time in Urbana). To get a quick glimpse at the different vibes of Champaign and Urbana, just compare downtown Champaign and downtown Urbana. Downtown Urbana gives off a more historic feel — I vaguely remember sitting in the Courier Cafe once and thumbing through a pamphlet about the building that housed the Courier Cafe which apparently was built sometime in the 1800s, if I recall correctly. I associate downtown Urbana with the courthouse and the “dying” Lincoln Square Mall — which actually has some cool shops like the art coop and Common Ground Food Coop if you venture inside. In comparison, Marketplace Mall in Champaign is bustling and filled with shoppers. Downtown Champaign is just as busy and has less of a historic feel.

So I talked to this old law professor at the University of Illinois for the 2017 oral history project on refugees. He looked to be in his sixties, his hair was greying, his office was filled with pictures of his children (which he promptly showed to us after we exchanged greetings). He was a very blunt man — blunt almost to the point of rudeness. He cursed a lot but was also incredibly knowledgeable. He was the type of man who would be perfect for the oral history project except he’d probably scare the poor subbies who would have to interview him. Oh, and he absolutely hated Champaign’s government. I would say about 70% of the time he cursed, it was in reference to Champaign’s city council. I vaguely recall him saying that the Champaign City Council can go to hell. He talked about how the Champaign City Council tended to lean more Republican and were more resistant to Champaign becoming a sanctuary city than Urbana. Up to this point, all the differences between Champaign and Urbana felt pretty trivial and non consequential in my eyes. In some ways, while Champaign and Urbana have different characters, I always viewed them as dependent on each other — I always felt they would make the same choices. I guess, I didn’t realize how the differences in Champaign and Urbana could lead to two different city councils with opposing views on one issue. 

All in all, I’m glad to live in Champaign-Urbana and experience the culture in both Urbana and Champaign. I appreciate the hyphen in Champaign-Urbana.   

Sources used: https://champaignil.gov/about-champaign/history/ 

Common App is Hell on Earth, Change my Mind

It’s October. It’s spooky month. It’s almost Halloween. So, in honor of Halloween, I’ll describe to you the spookiest thing known to seniors — The Common App. So for all the out of the loop, the Common Application (Common App) is a website where seniors can apply to many colleges. During the application process, seniors have to write essays, get teacher’s recs, write down their extracurriculars and other such things. In short, the Common App is hell on earth and you can’t change my mind. 

When I first googled, “Common App” the page that comes up fills me with dread. First off, there’s this huge picture of a smiling woman that takes up all of the screen. Her eyes are closed. She’s listening to music. She looks at peace. Normally I’d be fine with this smiling woman, but not when she’s plastered all over the Common App home page. I don’t hate the Common App home page because it’s scary but because there’s such a huge disconnect between the vibes the Common App homepage is giving off and the burning rollercoaster that represents my emotions throughout the month of October. Also, can we talk about the words on the Common App home page? “Your future starts here,” is displayed in huge white letters in the middle of the home page. And I get that these words are supposed to be inspiring but they just fill me with dread. The idea that someday I’ll graduate from high school, move out from my childhood home, and become an adult with some sort of “future” scares me. I don’t want my future to start yet, I just want to enjoy being an unstressed kid for just a while longer. 

What’s the scariest color? Red. R’s are red. Teacher’s grade with a red pen. Red lights are red. And you know what else is red? Common’s app cursed timer from hell. All of the schools you will apply to show up on the “Dashboard” tab of the Common App — like a checklist of sorts. In addition, the due date of applications along with a countdown is displayed on the “Dashboard” tab. And this year’s senior class has made the unfortunate discovery that two weeks before an app is due the countdown turns a bright red. So picture this mostly white page with a few accents of gray. Peaceful, right? Now imagine that same webpage but there’s now there’s this burning red text that says “7 days left until deadline”. And maybe it’s because my blood is 50% caffeine by now or because of the white background, but that red color is scarier than normal. There’s something about the saturation and hue of those words that makes me feel like I’m being judged. Whenever I see that countdown, I’m reminded of the fact that I’m not currently working on my essays. And each day you log on to the common app, this number keeps getting smaller and smaller and smaller. 

In the Common App tab, there’s another tab labeled “Writing” where your common app essay goes. Not gonna lie, this tab is the bane of my existence partially because writing essays is hard and partially because the interface just sucks. So after you scroll through a whole entire list of prompts that basically ask you to describe your entire personality and life experience in 650 words, you’ll see this tiny text box where you're expected to write your essay. The worst part of this text box for me is that it’s blank. I’ve spent hours staring at this little blank text box filled completely with unblemished whiteness, and I stress. The textbox’s blankness intimidates me. I type out one sentence in the text box. Then, after staring at the text box for a minute I delete the sentence. And so the cycle continues. And then there’s the interface. First off, when you copy-paste your essay from google docs to the common app, everything becomes bolded. I don’t know why common app does this but I hate it. Secondly, you can’t indent in Common App. Instead, you have to leave a blank line after each of your paragraphs or I guess you can just use the space bar if you’re really dedicated. And all of these little quirks are okay by themselves but by combining these quirks, Common App becomes hell on earth. 

So after ranting about Common App for a whole four paragraphs, I feel like I should complement the Common App for something just to be a little nice. Except I can’t think of anything to say so... .the Common App is hell on earth, change my mind. This essay/rant did help me feel less stressed though so everything’s not all bad. 

Disclaimer: I don’t know if the Common App counts as an object or animal but I’ve spent enough time on that cursed website that I can definitely write a detailed portrait of it. I’d also like to say that although I rant about Common App a lot, the current version of common app looks so much better than last year’s version, which looked liked it was made in the 90s.

stop asking me how to pronounce my last name -- I don't know how to pronounce it

The name on my birth certificate is Betty Nguyen. The name I write at the top corner of all my school assignments is Betty Nguyen. Betty Nguyen is how my name is displayed on the class roster. And, at least once every year, someone will ask me: "Betty, how do you pronounce your last name?" And my go to response to that question is, "I don't know." To be honest, this answer is a bit of a cop-out. I don't want to explain to someone how to pronounce my last name for the fiftieth time, and I honestly do not care how bad you mangle my last name. Why don't I care about my last name being mispronounced? It's a long story.

I know how to pronounce my last name . . . kind of. I pronounce "Nguyen" the same my parents pronounce "Nguyen" and my parents pronounce “Nguyen” the same way my grandparents pronounce it. So, from my perspective, there is a correct way to pronounce my last name and my pronunciation is correct. But the thing is, Vietnam has three very distinct regional dialects. As a result, there are some Vietnamese words that are pronounced differently according to which region of Vietnam you are from. According to which dialect you speak, certain syllables are pronounced differently as well. I think of the syllables “ch” and “tr” that are usually placed at the beginning of words. In some dialects these two syllables are pronounced differently. However, in the dialect I use, I can’t differentiate between the two syllables (And, of course, these syllables were the bane of my existence because I’d always use the wrong ones on spelling tests). And of course, the pronunciation of “Nguyen” is not uniform in Vietnamese. I remember watching a buzzfeed video where a Vietnamese woman was trying to teach people how to pronounce “Nguyen”. Except her pronunciation was wrong (according to me at least). So I decided to browse through youtube comments for validation, and that was the day I learned the word “Nguyen” had regional variants. So it’s hard for me to give people a definitive way to pronounce “Nguyen”, since there are variations in punctuation. So what I’m trying to say is, no matter how hard you try to pronounce Nguyen correctly, it will always be wrong according to someone. And even if there weren’t different but still correct ways to pronounce Nguyen, I would still be uncomfortable teaching you how to pronounce my last name simply because my Vietnamese sucks. Since I was born in America and English was my first language, I have a janky accent when I try to speak Vietnamese, and feel self-conscious when I have to speak Vietnamese. 

Whenever I explain how to say my last name to someone, I never expect them to get it right in the first try or the tenth try. Here's how my last name is spelled in Vietnamese: Nguyễn. See that little squiggly thing (the tilde) on top of the e? In Vietnamese this accent is called “dấu ngã” and it represents a certain tone. Tones are essential in Vietnamese and messing up a tone can completely change the meaning of a word (Trust me, my parents have laughed at me for messing up tones and completely changing the meaning of sentences multiple times) There aren’t any tones in English, so it’s really hard for me (an already crummy Vietnamese speaker) to explain how to pronounce the accent in my last name. The best way I can explain tones is to compare it to a question mark. Compare the words dog and dog? It’s technically the same word but both versions of dog don’t sound exactly the same. Tones kind of work like that except, in Vietnamese except there are five tones. Anyways, the squiggly line/tilde in Nguyễn signifies that your tone should rise then fall, kind of. Most Americans mispronounce Vietnamese and my last name because of these tones. (Heck, even, I mess up on my tones all the time). Because of this linguistic divide between English and Vietnamese, I kind of expect people to mispronounce my last name. When anglicizing my last name something is literally lost in translation — since there are no accents, you have no idea what tone goes where. 

I’m going off on a bit of a tangent here, but this’ll make sense, I swear. Even though literally everyone in my family has the last name Nguyen, I’ve never felt like I was part of some “Nguyen” gang. And I’m not exaggerating by saying everyone in my family is named Nguyen. I never learned what maiden names were until I was fourteen, because my mother’s last name was already Nguyen before she married my dad even though they aren’t related. (You can’t judge me too hard for not knowing what maiden names are because I’m 99% sure my dad thinks maiden names are just janky middle names). People constantly ask me if I’m so and so’s brother or sister since we both share the same last name, but, usually, I’ve never seen that person in my entire life. What I’m trying to say is, for me personally, there isn’t a strong sense of community around the last name Nguyen. I’ve always been fascinated by genealogy and the idea of finding your ancestors’ family history. But the issue is, I can’t just look up my last name because thousands of people have the same last name as me and none of us are related in the slightest (except the fact that we all have Vietnamese ancestry). There’s a historical reason why so many unrelated people have the last name “Nguyen”. I know because I googled my last name for a fifth grade project once. The last dynasty that ruled Vietnam had the surname Nguyen. After the Nguyen dynasty took power, many Vietnamese people changed their last names to Nguyen because they were forced to or because changing your last name Nguyen was a sign of loyalty to the emperor. So there isn’t some grand family story or history behind my last name. My ancestors were probably some rice farmers who decided to change their last name to Nguyen out of loyalty to the emperor or something. So when people mispronounce my last name, it doesn’t feel like an attack on my identity, because I don’t attach any strong sense of identity to my last name, especially since I’ve lived in America for all my life. 

What I’m about to say is going to sound cheesy, but for me, I don’t care about people’s pronunciation of my last name because it’s the thought that counts. As long as you make an effort at pronouncing my last name, I couldn't care how bad you butcher it. Part of this fluidity around my last name stems from me living in America for my whole life. As a person who has lived in America for my whole life, I’ve probably heard the mispronounced version of my last name more time then I’ve heard the correct pronunciation. I’ve grown a little attached to the bastardized mispronunciations of my name (And I’m really fond of the Nguyen-Win puns even though that pronunciation’s wrong). Even, I’ve started to code-switch a little by saying my last name differently when I’m around vietnamese or non-vietnamese people. Most days it’s really hard to differentiate which parts of me are Vietnamese and which parts or American and the pronunciation of my last name is a reflection of that. Of course, all of this is just my opinion and you might meet someone who’s a stickler for pronouncing Nguyen correctly.

And if you still, for some reason, want to know how to pronounce my last name just google it or something.

Ugly Christmas Sweaters

If I had to pick an article of clothing to represent me, I'd pick an ugly Christmas sweater, like one of those gaudy sweaters composed of two extremely saturated and unflattering colors. I'm thinking highlighter green so bright it sears your retinas and red so burnt it's basically mud brown. Maybe one with a super tacky Christmas pun on it and the sweater has to be knitted, of course. Why an ugly Christmas sweater, specifically? Well, I have a list.

So here are three reasons why I identify with ugly Christmas sweaters.

1. It's just for kicks

Why do I want to wear an ugly Christmas sweater? Simple. It's because I can. Not every action needs an explanation. There's a part of me that wants to justify everything I do. There's a part of me that wants to link all my experiences to one cohesive narrative. All of these thoughts are intensified by my kinda low-key toxic mentality toward looming college apps. I think thoughts like: Why am I studying so hard? By doing this activity? Does this activity strengthen my college apps? Why am I taking this class? Does this class relate to my future major which will relate to my future career? And sometimes these thoughts keep me organized but other times they just give me stress. So sometimes, I just want to do things for kicks. I want to stop assigning meanings to everything. I want to stop believing that there's some sort of divine plan that my life adheres to. 

And maybe this is just some facet of teenage rebellion. Maybe I've finally digested all those ideas from 21st Century Novel, and subconsciously decided that Camus and those existentialist dudes were right -- the universe is meaningless and it's up for the individuals themselves to derive meaning in an absurd and indifferent world. Maybe I'm just tired of always trying to explain my actions to myself. All I know is that just once, when someone asks me about college or my future or adulthood, I just to be able to say, "I don't know" without any shame. 

2. It's a fashion statement

Not gonna lie, ugly Christmas sweaters are, well, ugly. But it feels freeing to wear something ugly in public and not care at all about how people perceive you. Stressing over how people perceive me is an issue of mine. I'm worried about looking ugly or answering a question wrong and being thought of as dumb. I'm worried about not being smart enough for Uni and being thought of as an imposter. And so it's super freeing to be able to wear a sweater and declare, "I look ugly and I don't care." It's freeing to say, "Here are my unfiltered thoughts and I don't care if they make me seem dumb." By wearing a Christmas Sweater, you're throwing away societal expectations and norms of beauty and embracing ugliness. I want to be brave enough to openly speak about my insecurities and fears. I'm tired of letting my metaphorical ugly Christmas Sweater fester in the closet. You need a certain amount of self-confidence to wear an ugly Christmas sweater and one day I hope I'll be that self-confident.

3. It's a joke

So yeah, wearing an ugly Christmas sweater both embraces the ugliness in life and is apparently, possibly an existentialist statement??? (I'm still a little skeptical and worried about my 12 p.m. jumps in logic, but hey, I personally derived meaning from an ugly Christmas sweater so what are the existentialist dudes gonna do? Say I'm wrong?) But one of the best things about ugly Christmas sweaters is that they're jokes. At the end of the day, if you get a negative reaction, you can always just claim that it's a joke. And you know what, it's easy to use humor as armor. I make jokes about being bad at math or failing a test but underneath that veneer of light-heartedness, these are reals concerns of mine. In that situation, I want to talk about failure but I'm scared of being thought of as a failure. So, I make a joke about failure. Because, at the end of the day, you can still revert back to the status quo. After the holidays, you can easily take the ugly Christmas sweater off. Similarly, I'm not forced to commit to being some sort of existentialist, ugly Christmas sweater wearing confused teenager. I can just claim that this entire blog post is a shitpost and thus meaningless. 

tl;dr I'm scared of committing myself to my ideals.

So there you have it. There are my thoughts on ugly Christmas sweaters. They might seem a little dumb and crazy but sometimes you just have to get the words out of your mouth. 

Disclaimer: I've never owned an ugly Christmas sweater (I've owned some unflattering sweaters but I've never owned An Ugly Christmas Sweater tm). 

Here is The Beginning of My Posts For Non-Fiction Writing

Everything after this post is for Coming-of-Age Novel. You can read it if you have any particular love for confused teenagers/young adults trying to find their place in life, I guess.

Nostalgia and Memory (feat. Housekeeping)

In the chapter "Tonight We Improvise" Benji comments on the unreliability of memory. In particular, Benji walks through his old house with Melanie while reminiscing about his time there. Benji says, WLNG made Benji reminisce about a particular memory where everyone in his family was happy and together. Elena was home, Benji and Reggie were still a unit, his mother seemed young, his father was barbecuing, and barbecue was still the best thing in the world. Everything was perfect except the fact that the memory might have been fabricated and never have existed in the first place. Something about this chapter reminded me of Housekeeping (possibly it was Benji's musings about the unreliability of memory or it might have been Benji's experience revisiting a house that's no longer his).

I was amazed at how Benji seemed to remember little details from his home and the stories behind them from the creaks the house made to the horse shoe crab nailed on the wall. I was especially amazed since I've never moved but I don't think I could describe the house I lived in all my life the same way Benji did. It's not that I don't have any childhood memories associated with my home like Benji, it's because those memories aren't on the forefront of my mind. I think part of the reason I don't view my own home with the same mindset as Benji is because I still live there. For me, my home is an object that exists firmly in the present and not the past. Benji also didn't quite described the beach house he currently lives in quite the same detail as his childhood home even though I'm pretty sure he also has memories associated with that house.

Benji's reminisces on his childhood home reminded me of Ruth's thoughts on memory and loss. I remember Ruth commenting on how her memory of her mom was shaped by the fact that her mom left her. Ruth muses on how, "Memory is the sense of loss, and loss pulls us after it, " (194). Memory and loss are entangled and consequently, once you've lost something your memories of that thing become more potent. Ruth mentions how because her mother left her, Ruth's memory of her mother became transfigured. Ruth vividly remembers her mother buying Lucille and her ice cream and how quiet and calm her mother seemed. However Ruth says, "if she had simply brought us home again to the high frame apartment building with the scaffolding of stairs, I would not remember her that way," (197). If Ruth's mother had stayed she would have seemed permanent and thus have seemed like a different person in Ruth's memory. Similarly, because Benji's stay in his old house was temporary, his experiences at that house are transfigured. For Benji now, that house symbolizes his childhood when his family was still together. It's because Benji's time at Sag Harbor is temporary, that Ben remembers Sag Harbor so well and can describe the effects of that time on him.

I feel like it would be wrong to write about Housekeeping, without addressing the matter of houses, especially since this chapter talks about a house that Benji did not keep. Houses are also symbols of permanence. However moving to a new home disrupts that illusion of permanence. Therefore, when Benji sees his own home, he's reminded of time's passage. This time Elena, Reggie, and his parents aren't in the house with him. Instead, someone new lives there and Benji is sneaking in with Melanie. Even if the house is physically the same, Benji has changed. This effect heightens Benji's feelings of nostalgia.

Jason, Personas, and the Hall of Mirrors Scene

During the chapter “Goose Fair” Jason wanders into the hall mirrors and sees multiple reflections of himself distorted by the mirrors. Throughout the novel, Jason struggles with his alternate personas Unborn Twin and Maggot. Much of Black Swan Green, Jason is worried about his identity and how he is perceived by others. He’s constantly self editing himself to fit in with the cool kids at school whether that be hiding his poetry or hiding his stammer. As such, the scene in the hall of mirror is important to Jason’s development because it addresses the issue of Jason’s personas.

I think it’s important that Jason is alone in the hall mirrors. Since Jason’s alone he isn’t self-editing himself to fit in. The Jason alone in the hall of mirrors is the true Jason. One of the insights Jason gets from his reflections is that a person can’t truly change into someone else. One of Jason’s reflections notes that “You can only change superficial features. An Inside-You must stay unaltered to change the Outside-You.” (249). As such, it’s impossible to change yourself. You can only change how others perceive you. However even if you make a superficial change and build an Outside-You, you’re true self will still exist and that true self will be in conflict with the persona you’ve built. Just like a mirror, you can curve and bend the glass to get the reflection you want but that won’t change how you look in reality. Jason can act like one of the members of Spooks, can act like he doesn’t have a stammer, that he isn’t an artist, but, that in the end, is just an act that doesn’t fix any of Jason’s problems. And now, Jason needs to be worried about maintaining his personas and lives in fear that he’ll be caught and someone will see his true self which seems like a pretty unhealthy way to live.

The next reflection Jason sees is Maggot. Maggot says that the kids at school pick on Jason because he doesn’t blend in and that popularity “is about following weather forecasts” (249). However, if popularity is like following weather forecasts that implies that the weather and what’s popular changes. Blindly following what’s popular is pointless since what and who’s popular could change the next day.

The Fourth Reflection is upside down Jason who suggests that Jason make a “One-You” that matches his inner self instead of trying to win people’s approval for his outer-self. Upside down Jason says that Jason is weak because he’s constantly trying to win other people’s approval. We can see that Jason’s desire to be cool makes him a target to Wilcox and his gang. In comparison, it’s less satisfying for Wilcox to bully Dean who doesn’t care about getting approval. As such, Jason learns that he shouldn’t try to self edit himself. Rather, Jason should just show the world his true self and not worry about how others will perceive.

Ruth's Coming of Age

To the eyes of modern society, Ruth seems to have failed her coming of age since she has become a transient. The grandmother told Ruth and Lucille to keep the house and the title of the book is literally Housekeeping yet Ruth and Sylvie burnt down the house and left Fingerbone. Although Ruth’s coming of age may have failed according to society, it’s successful according to Ruth.

One important aspect of one’s coming of age is independence whether it be from society in general or one’s parents. Throughout the course of Housekeeping, we see Ruth distancing herself from her family. At the beginning of the story Ruth and Lucille are one unit. At the end of the story, Ruth has left with Sylvie to live a life of transience while Lucille has not fully accepted the transient nature of life. Lucille “smears her initials in the stem on her water glass” (219). These initials of Lucille’s will eventually fade away but Lucille still writes them anyway. Nothing in life is permanent and Lucille and Ruth deal with this fact in different ways. Ruth doesn’t put down roots while Lucille continues putting down roots despite their impermanence. I think that by making decisions independent from Lucille, Ruth becomes more mature. Ruth starts to make decisions for herself. In another world, I could see Ruth and Lucille growing up to be similar to Lily and Nona. However, Lily and Nona feel more like a unit than two individual people and as a result don’t feel like good coming of age role models.

Ruth also crossed the lake, which was a life-changing event for her. The lake symbolizes a lot of things for Ruth.  Many of Ruth’s family have died in the lake. Her grandfather’s train crashed into the lake and her mother sailed into it. Ruth seems to follow in her family’s footsteps. She too crosses the lake and is presumed dead by society. Also, by leaving the lake, Ruth leaves her family history behind. From a young age, Ruth was aware of the impermanence of family since her mother and grandmother died and Lily and Nona left them in Sylvie’s care. As such, Ruth leaves her family history behind because she’s aware of its transience. However, Ruth does still form a connection with Sylvie. Throughout her life, Ruth has been expecting her family members to disappear yet Ruth is still close to Sylvie. Although, Ruth lives completely in the present she still formed a connection with Sylvie even though Ruth must know Sylvie won’t be around forever. Ruth doesn’t let the transience of life stop her from making meaningful connections with at least one person. I don’t think Ruth uses transience as a coping mechanism to protect herself from future loss.

Also this is completely off topic, but I find it amusing to consider Ruth writing or narrating the story of Housekeeping. The story and book itself although not completely permanent will still exists for a long time after Ruth and Sylvie are gone. Also, Sylvie talks about how transients are an invisible class of people and how many of them could have died in the train crash that killed Ruth’s grandfather but no one would no. In a sense, Housekeeping shines a bit of light on transient people.

Joan as a Mirror to Esther

Joan may be a relatively minor character in The Bell Jar but I thought she was an interesting mirror to Esther. They both came from the same hometown, dated Buddy, and went to the same mental hospital. However, while Esther survived and is on course to leave the mental hospital, Joan committed suicide. I also think that Joan helped Esther realized that other women also had their own bell jars. Joan, like many of the characters in The Bell Jar, feels like a caricature as a result of Esther's portrayal. Joan is repeatedly associated with horses and Esther comments on her big teeth and eyes which are like grey pebbles. Something about this depiction of Joan makes her feel not completely human. As a result of this distorted portrayal, Joan doesn't feel like a person but a cartoon character. This warped image of Joan signifies how Esther finds it difficult to connect with other people.

At first, Joan seems pretty successful, she's president of her class, college hockey champion, and a psychics major. However, she later goes to the same mental hospital Esther does. When Ester finds out that Joan is at the mental hospital she thinks, Joan, "engaged a room at the asylum on pretense, simply as a joke" (195). And when Joan begins explaining how she ended up at the mental hospital, Esther thinks that Joan is either crazy or "she must be trying to see how crazy I was, believing all that" (195-196). Even though Joan might have gone through similar experiences as Esther, at this point in the novel, Esther doesn't realize so because of her distorted view of people. However, Esther does eventually realizes that Joan and her have some similarities. When Joan shows Esther the marks on her wrists, Esther thought "For the first time it occurred to me Joan and I might have something in common" (199). Here, Esther meets makes a connection with another person which is important to her because throughout the novel Esther has always felt isolated.

However, Esther soon becomes jealous of Joan because she had more privileges and moved to Belsize. Esther thought "Joan was the beaming double of my old best self, specially designed to follow and torment me" (205). To Esther, Joan seems like a mirror of herself. Later Esther thinks "Her thoughts were not my thoughts, nor her feelings my feelings, but we were close enough so that her thoughts and feelings seemed a wry, black image of my own" (219). I think Esther's feels unnerved by the similarities between herself and Joan. So later, when Joan committed suicide, Esther probably felt particularly unnerved that someone she considered a mirror image successfully killed themselves while Esther is still alive. Joan serves as a reminder for what could have happened to Esther. In addition, Joan's struggle were viewed with respect to that of Esther's. However, when Joan commits suicide she's no longer just Esther's mirror image since her and Esther's paths diverged. As a result, Esther can no longer view Joan's struggle as just a mirror to her own. And while Joan's death could still "follow and torment" Esther, I think Esther is also forced to view Joan as her own person and not just a caricature or a double of herself. 

I still feel like I haven't completely discussed all aspects of Joan, such as her sexuality and Joan's feelings for Esther, or why she committed suicide and how all of that affects Esther. And honestly, Joan's character still confuses me so I would love to here other thoughts and interpretations of Joan. 

Holden's Coming of Age

I really liked the ending of The Catcher in the Rye because I think it accurately shows the end result of a coming of age. If we examine Holden at the beginning and end of the novel, we can see some development, especially in the carousel scene with Phoebe. Phoebe gets on the carousel but Holden doesn't, signifying that Holden recognizes he's not a child anymore. However, Phoebe says that she's too big for the carousel. Holden isn't depicted to have any strong negative response at the thought of Phoebe aging but instead urges Phoebe to go on the carousel and he would watch. I think that Holden still isn't completely okay with the concept of aging but instead of being angry, he cherishes the moments he does have with Phoebe while acknowledging that Phoebe won't always be a young girl who rides carousels anymore.

Additionally, I think Holden wants to become a mentor figure to Phoebe which would fit with Holden's dream job to be the catcher in the rye. Phoebe begins to resemble Holden. She wants to recklessly run off with Holden to live in a new state. In addition, Phoebe starts to physically take after Holden when she drags her suitcase around and wears Holden's red hunting hat. However, when Holden sees Phoebe start to take the same path that Holden does, Holden attempts to stop Phoebe or stop Phoebe from falling off the same cliff Holden did. Holden changes his mind and decides to not leave town so Phoebe would not follow him. I think that Holden recognizes that Phoebe sees him as a role model and as a result changes his behavior. I think that Holden's views his actions in a different light whenever his actions are related with Phoebe. For instance, Holden recklessly spends his own savings on cabs, alcohol, tickets to see movies. Holden doesn't budget his money at all and just spends it recklessly. However, when Phoebe gives Holden her money, Holden actually budgets the money. For instance, after Holden runs away from Mr. Antolini's house, Holden doesn't want to book a hotel and spend all of Phoebe's money. Just like how Holden doesn't want to waste Phoebe's money, he doesn't want to hurt Phoebe's future, and as a result, begins to reforms his spending habits and himself in order for Phoebe to have a good role model.

I also liked how Holden never finishes coming of age. On the last page of the novel, a psychoanalyst asks Holden if he'll apply himself in school next year. Holden, however, tells the reader, that he doesn't know what he'll do until he does it. I like how, by the end of the novel, Holden hasn't fully developed as an adult but has just taken the first steps to reform his life. I also liked how Holden is still unsure about what he wants to do in his life, since I can relate to that. The novel doesn't end with Holden planning to go to college and choosing to pursue some traditional career like a lawyer or teacher. I like that Holden's future is still somewhat vague and unclear, since that how growing up can sometimes feel to a teen.

Examining Stephen's Epiphany

The epiphany Stephen has at the end of chapter 4 is important since it kickstarts Stephen's development as an artist and leads to the Stephen we see in chapter 5. Therefore, I thought it would be useful to carefully analyze the moment Stephen's see the woman at the beach, especially with the knowledge we have from finishing the book. Just before Stephen sees the woman he notes how alone and free Stephen feels. "He was alone and young and wilful and wildhearted" (185). I didn't notice it at first, but this is the ideal state Stephen believes the artist should be -- detached and free from soceity's constraints. 

And then Stephen see the woman. He notes that she was "alone and still, gazing out to the sea" (185). I think part of the reason the woman drew Stephen's attention was because she was alone. Throughout, Portrait, Stephen has always been a little detached from others whether that be through his desire to cultivate a brooding persona or because he's at a new school. I think that perhaps, Stephen views the woman as a model which he should strive to be. Stephen doesn't want to be like his childish friends who play around on the beach but rather wants to be like the lone woman wading in the water. Also, the fact that the woman is looking at the sea instead of into Dublin could symbolized Stephen's desire to get out from the constraints of Ireland. In addition, the woman is described as a "strange and beautiful seabird" and Joyce evokes other bird references, such as the "dovetailed" skirts. The bird imagery fits with the idea of escape and flight. According to Stephen, he wants to escape the cultural constraints of Dublin and his religion which fits with the bird imagery. In addition, birds when they're flying, are detached from the land but, as a result, gain a larger and more cohesive view of the world from their position. In that sense, the imagery of the bird meshes perfectly with Stephen's theory that by being detached the artist becomes better at representing people. 

Also, when Stephen's refers to Emma on page 235 he asks, "Her heart simple and wilful as a bird's heart?" which might connect the birdlike woman on the beach with Emma. Indeed, the encounter with the woman at the beach seems like something straight out of teenage Stephen's dreams. Stephen literally runs into a girl at the beach and he passively has an epiphany. Perhaps, that connection to Stephen's past makes this encounter even more personal and meaningful to Stephen. I'm a little unsure if there's any connection to Emma and what that connection would be (Other than that both women are treated by Stephen more as a concept or symbol than as a person. Also, just a thought, but perhaps the woman at the beach works as a "better" symbol because Stephen doesn't know her and is detached from her, whereas Stephen is directly effected by Emma's actions which doesn't allow him to be perfectly unbiased toward her). 

Stephen then begins to to describe his epiphany in more religious terms. He described the woman as "a wild angel" and Stephen describes how his soul reacts (186). The religious terms could be a reference to how although Stephen may be detached from his culture it still influences him through his language and world view. He's still Irish and Stephen's religious background doesn't just disappear. Also, when the woman is described as an angel, the entire encounter feels a lot more biblical. An angel appears to Stephen and as a result Stephen gets an epiphany and a calling to the vocation of being an artist. Perhaps, this is another way Stephen's religious background never leaves him. I'm still a little unsure about the meaning of biblical atmosphere of this scene however. I feel like it adds a bit of drama to the scene which you could regard as ironic depending on your view on how legitimate Stephen's epiphany is. After rereading the paragraph, I noted Joyce's word choice. The woman's eyes called Stephen "to live, to err, to fall, to triumph" (185). The woman is a "wild" angel. She would "throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory" (185). I found it interesting how even though the woman is called an angel she doesn't represent how Stephen should be holy and never sin. In fact, the angel represents how Stephen would fall and succeed. I thought there also might have been something Milton like in the description of the woman as an angel. "error and glory" are two things I associate with Satan and the fall in "to live, to err, to fall, to triumph" evokes Milton. Perhaps, this is another way that Stephen steps beyond the restrictions of the church and religion in Ireland, and because of his detachment is able to portray religion in a different light. 

stephen but edgier

In chapter 2, we are introduced to a transformed Stephen who broods, is purposefully detaches, reads scandalous and heretical poetry, and is obsessed with the idea of Mercedes. Stephen believes that if he wanders the streets enough he'll run into a girl that will transform him. This transformation as a result of meeting a woman would be a kind of "coming of age" for Stephen. And indeed, chapter 2 does end with Stephen encountering a woman, but Joyce frames the encounter in an ironic way that punctures Stephen's character. Actually, many of Stephen's transformation in this chapter feel hollow.

First off, Stephen sleeps with a prostitute which degrades the encounter. Sure, the prostitute might be showing a little interest in Stephen but the encounter itself was transactional in nature. Stephen doesn't mention any of the transaction (which is probably because the narrative is a reflection of Stephen's consciousness) but I think it's safe to assume that he pays the prostitute. The mere fact that the encounter was a transaction cheapens Stephen's actions. Stephen doesn't transform because of his own merit or work but instead pays money in order to have a transformative encounter. As a result, Stephen's "transformation" as a result of his encounter with the prostitute feels a little artificial. The prostitute isn't truly interested in Stephen (aside from his money) and Stephen has no emotional attachment to the prostitute. So although, Stephen narrates the encounter as if it was particularly emotional for him, the scene feels hollow because the reader knows there's no real connection between the prostitute and Stephen.

My second point pertains to the majority of Stephen's actions in chapter two, not just his encounter with the prostitute. A lot of Stephen's changes and actions in this chapter seem to stem from the reading he has done. Stephen feels like he resembles the main character in The Count of Monte Cristo and views Lord Byron as a role model of sorts. Which is all well and good, but sometimes I feel like Stephen tries to hard to be like his romantic heroes. Sometimes, it feels as if Stephen isn't trying to be his own person but Lord Byron 2.0. The poem he writes is in a similar style to that of Lord Byron's. He refers to Emma as E C, just like Lord Byron does. Stephen has sketchy encounters with women just as Lord Bryon does. As a result, Stephen's transformation is undermined and becomes a little more artificial. Stephen isn't transforming into his own person and developing his own views but merely imitating someone else.

I don't want to attack tween Stephen too hard though since most people go through a stage similarly to Stephen (or at least I did). Stephen does grow. He learns to question authority figures like when he talked to the Rector about the prefect's behavior. I think we all go through a stage like Stephen does where we imitate someone we admire. I think imitation is also an important phase too. For instance, the first poem we see Stephen write feels heavily based off an Lord Byron's poetry (Stephen calls Emma EC because that's what Lord Byron does) but this is one of the first poems Stephen writes and its still an important part of his development as an artist. It still gets the ball rolling.

As a result, although Stephen thinks of himself as an old soul who is more mature than the other children his age and his parent's, readers don't necessarily share this sentiment.