Water, Water, Water

Chapter 10: It’s More Than Just Rain or Snow

          Rain, well just water in general, is weird to me after reading this chapter. Think about it:

-         Drowning is one of our biggest fears yet we are fascinated by water

-         We watch water dance from fountains, it’s a leisurely activity

-         We drink water to survive, but too much can drown us

-         We use it clean, human body  is made up of 75 % water

-         Water gives life but also can cause death

-         We baptize our children in “holy water”

-         Noah’s arch in the flood; water was the monster and the savior

-         Water boarding as form of torture

-         Hurricanes, storms, tsunamis

-         Give plants water give them life

-         Only element we cannot create

So when I see rain or snow in literature, many things come to mind but it mostly depends on what context it is presented in. For example, let’s say there was a murder in a dark alley behind a CVS, a drug deal gone south. If it had rained before the drug deal, it would be a foreshadowing of the bad events in the near future. If it rained during the drug deal, it would suggest something is suspicious about the transaction and could also be a foreshadowing tool. Now, if it rained after the murder, it could serve as closure, as the rain carried the blood into the street drains, the scene and the body are now “cleansed” and the story can continue.

I read A Wrinkle in Time in fourth grade for an English project and I remember the famous Edward Bulwer-Lytton opening to the book. That’s the only book I’ve read so far that has a distinct rain reference. Anyway, it opens with Meg waking up from a nightmare, going up to the kitchen to talk to her brother, joined by their mom and their new neighbor Mrs. Whatsit, who mentions seeing a tesseract. Meg’s curiosity about the tesseract basically drives the rest of the book so by using rain to set up a mysterious eerie vibe around the situation, the author can foreshadow upcoming events. I mean think about it, they’re in the kitchen, in the middle of the night, during a thunderstorm and their neighbor just popped in to tell them about a strange thing called a tesseract, sounds pretty mysterious to me.

As for snow, it’s a little bit different. Snow, because of its clean white color, we don’t usually associate it with death or bad things, plus we’re not afraid of drowning in snow. Snow could mean peace, quite, a new beginning or a fresh start. If something happens to the snow, like let’s say there is a field covered in a clean blanket of powder white snow and a group of teenagers come and attack it, it could represent the destruction of innocence or purity. I guess snow could be seen as terrifying as well because of its bitterness and strength. In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the White Witch was bitter and unforgiving to her enemies, much like the snow is to its surroundings. She turned her enemies to stone and the snow kills its people through frostbite and hypothermia.

Dinner on a Baseball Field

Chapter 2: Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion

          I think this chapter would have to be one of my favorite chapters in the book so far, although I’m only two chapters in, mostly because I can relate in the sense that I understand the struggle of making a communion scene a useful part of the story. The chapter elaborates on the literary affects of communion, when people eat together or drink together. When people eat together, it is a share of their space, time and attention. We don’t eat with strangers nor people whom we don’t enjoy. Eating is such an intimate occasion; we eat to nourish our bodies, to get energy. Both eating and sleeping are human necessities, we don’t eat with just anyone and we surely don’t sleep with just anybody.

          Now back to how I relate to this chapter, well in freshman year, our playwriting teacher challenged us to incorporate food into a scene. So automatically, my mind gravitated to a typical dinner table scene. I had seen plenty of these types of scenes before, the idea seemed simple; bring people together with food. It was the execution that I was questioning but nonetheless, I set off.

          I set the scene: 70s family dining room in Lansing, Michigan, middle class family, Mom, Dad, little brother (Charlie) and two evil twin sisters (Haley and Heather) all sitting around a table of pot roast, green beans, mashed potatoes and steamed carrots (little brother despises carrots). So after I set the table and the characters, the scene begins; Mom asks kids about their day, Charlie begins to talk, sisters snicker, Dad tells them to be nice and so on. Now this goes on for a good three to four pages, just pure exposition, but as I entered the fifth page, the story became dull, I mean there’s only so much exposition you can give in the situation so I decide to add conflict.

          I needed a conflict bigger than the steamed carrots, bigger than the evil sisters. Without conflict my scene would have gone endlessly into exposition abyss. So I thought, I could always reveal something about one character that the others didn't know. Maybe the sisters are dating the same boy without knowing it, maybe Charlie has a bully or maybe Mom is cheating on Dad with the Spanish pool boy who comes every Wednesday at three. Any way that I approached the conflict, it always seemed to end up with the family members hurling mashed potatoes across the table. I couldn't figure out a way to keep the scene lively yet civilized. If the family just sat, talked about their day and ate in peace, it would be an unnecessary scene with no drive or direction. If the family fought, the food would lose its power of bringing people together and the dinner is no longer a shared experience.

          Also as I was writing the scene I found it extremely difficult to keep the food in the scene. The dialogue was so heavy that it drowned out any mentions of the food. In the sentence “Haley glared at Dad while she reached for a spoonful of steamed carrots,” the “while she reached for a spoonful of steamed carrots” seems so unnecessary to me but without it you lose the dinner image. Without constantly referring to the food, I feel like you might as well just set the scene on a baseball field. 

Frodo, Harry, Haskell, and Batman

Chapter 1: Every Trip is a Quest (except when it's not)

In almost all the quest driven books and movies I've read or seen, there always seems to be a quest-er, a place to go, a stated reason to go there, challenges along the way and self knowledge, While I was reading this chapter, there was one book that kept popping up in my head, "The Lord of the Rings." Its majestic quests with dangerous trail and tribulations made it the perfect "quest driven" book in my library.

 To begin, the questers are Frodo and his loyal gardener Sam. The place to go is the kingdom of Mordor, the stated reason for their quest is to find and destroy the ring. Along the way they face many challenges ranging in size and difficulty. The most memorable would have to be Gollum, a once sane Smeagol who fell under the rings control, banished into the mountains and transformed into an obsessed, corrupted creature. As they finally get the ring, they immediately begin fighting over it, almost killing each other. They realize the true power of the ring and its potential to override the brain. If they had gone alone, they would have never made it out alive so friendship, being a main theme in the series, is considered self knowledge. Also Sam's loyalty is highlighted in his hours of heroism when Frodo gets into sticky situations. By doing so, both the characters develop a strong appreciation and almost brotherhood towards each other. 

The Harry Potter books are structured the same way as well. The quester; Harry and two friends, a place to go: various ominous destinations, stated reason: to defeat some viscous monster, challenges: the travel, wizards, obstacles and limitations along the way, and in every adventure, the three friends become closer and discover more about each other than they knew before. Okay, take any superhero story, let's do Batman. The quester: Batman, a place to go: wherever danger arises, stated reason: to save Gotham city, challenges: fan’s disloyalty, personal issues, and in the end he either saves his lover, kiss and the movie ends, restores his fans' loyalty in him or he discovers something about himself or one of his friends that he didn't know before. We could even go as far as to examine a play in this sense. I recently designed a show called The Immigrant by Mark Harelik. It’s about a Jewish-Russian man who moves to the all catholic Texas town of Hamilton and struggles to assimilate to American life. The quester: Haskell (the Jewish-Russian), a place to go: a Jewish community, stated reason: to “find his people,” challenges: hatred from community for his beliefs, and finally he realizes that in the midst of trying to become an American, he lost all of his beliefs and essentially lost himself.

Essentially these stories are all the same. They are structured the same exact way, just exchange a wizard for two Jewish-Russian hobbits place them in Gotham city and you've got an epic quest!