Currently Reading...

This week, our reading recommendation comes from Emily Carman, who suggests PËre Goriot by HonorÈ De Balzac.

As an English major, I have found that once the semester begins, I do not have time to read books for pleasure. No, I am not suggesting that reading a book for a class cannot be fun. The difference between reading for pleasure and reading for school relates to the obvious fact that I do not have a choice in the latter. When my professor hands out a syllabus and informs me that I will be reading Balzac, I sit down and read Balzac. One of the great things, though, about being an English major is that I was exposed to Balzac. If not for class, Balzac would have forever remained on my mental list of authors to read one of these days.

I highly recommend PËre Goriot because it is a novel that incites a variety of emotions. Most of the characters that parade through the novel are both admirable and incredibly flawed, and their actions are both frustrating and depressing. At certain points in the story you may feel for a character, but eventually you cannot sympathize anymore because Balzac discloses something that makes you change your mind. Balzac is an ingenious writer who is able to make you respect and despise a character simultaneously, and never really explains which sentiment is the appropriate one. I most sympathized with the character Goriot, though at the same time I could not help but hold him accountable for perpetuating his own hard luck. In the dismal Parisian boardinghouse Balzac depicts, individuals are discarded by a society that is characterized as being noxious, alarming, and deceptive. Balzac’s world is haunting and incredibly moving, and I invite you to explore the intricacies of Balzac’s prose. I found it a stirring and stimulating experience - Balzac will prove worth your time!

Boylan Brief #74

Protesters Take on Police in Zimbabwe

Just weeks after the political sniping and resignation of Archbishop Pius Ncube (arch enemy of Robert Mugabe), there are signs that popular resistance to dictatorial rule in Zimbabwe can not be subdued.

Recently, that resistance manifested itself publicly against one huge symbol of the unchecked and corrupt power that rules Zimbabwe: The police. Zimbabwean police are famous for their brutality. So when an officer in the city of Harare demanded a taxi pick him up for a ludicrously low fare, it was no surprise to anyone in the crowd that gathered, when the policeman began to beat the driver. What was a surprise, however, was a voice from the throng screaming out, "This is a human right’s abuse!" A crowd formed to protect the driver and attacked the officer. When riot police were called in and the taxi driver was jailed, over five hundred people gathered in front of the abusive policeman’s precinct to protest.

This unexpectedly bold display by the public is the result of a new movement called "Restoration of Human Rights," started by two young Zimbabweans, one black and one white. Their organization is now 15,000 people strong and gaining momentum. The young founders tell citizens, "If you stand up alone you’re at risk; if five of you stand up, you’re at risk. But if we stand up in our thousands, they can’t do anything."

- Nicole Lebenson
Source: London Times

Beyond the Pale

In India, fairness has long been associated with beauty. Lighter skinner Indian women are more likely to get married younger, and to the most eligible bachelors. Beauty aisles in Indian stores are filled with competing brands of fairness creams and skin bleaches. Indian women begin purchasing these products when they are young with the hopes that daily use will make their skin fairer by the time they are ready to get married. International brands such as L’Oreal make and market skin bleaches in India, but the brand Fair & Lovely is advertised as India’s number one brand of fairness cream. On the box are five pictures of a woman’s face, her complexion growing progressively lighter in each take. The only picture in which she looks happy is the one in which her skin is unnaturally light.

In India, the desirability of a woman is based on her looks, but the eligibility of a man is based on his job, his family, and his character. Thus, women have long been the primary targets of fairness cream marketing campaigns – until now. Fair & Handsome, launched in 2005, is the first fairness cream ever created and marketed solely for men. A recent controversy has arisen in India over the Fair & Handsome cream. Actor Shahrukh Khan, one of Bollywood’s highest-paid, most attractive actors, is endorsing the cream. His commercial, a mere forty seconds, has had a huge impact on consumers both in India and around the world, as the magnitude of Khan’s fame extends to non-resident Indians around the globe. Anyone who follows Bollywood films recognizes Khan, and the commercial is filmed in true Bollywood style, with a song and dance sequence that recalls Khan’s celebrity.

Many Indians are outraged that Khan would lend his name to a product that resurrects age-old prejudices against darker-skinner Indians. Khan is famous for his looks and so the impact of his name is more powerful. Sunny Hundal, the editor of the website Asians in Media, explains the detrimental effect of Khan’s endorsement: "what [Khan] is essentially doing is confirming and promoting the condescending attitude that many Indians have towards dark-colored skin. His endorsement is completely immoral." In response, Manish Shah, a distributor for Fair & Handsome, says, "If people have an inferiority complex because of their skin color, then this product will really help. It does what it says. It makes you fair and handsome."

The consumer demand for fairness creams in India can be equated with the American interest in artificial tanning products. After long targeting women, Indian fairness companies are expanding their marketing focus to men. Is an American focus on men’s tanning creams and sprays far behind? How much would American men be swayed by the swarthy, tanned face of Matthew McConaughey, one arm around a beautiful woman and the other holding a bottle of spray-on tan?

- Krishna Sury
Source: BBC


What is in Store for Montenegro’s Future?

The recently independent, yet little-known state of Montenegro is slowly gaining greater and greater popularity among the world’s millionaires, tycoons, and celebrities. The mountainous country full of wild beauty and glittering seacoasts, even saw a spectacular concert from legendary rock group, The Rolling Stones this past summer. The event drew in thousands of people from around the world and provided great advertisement for Zarko Radulovic (the owner of the hotel at which the Rolling Stones stayed). Yet even with the growing success of his hotel, (which Radulovic started up with his own money and not with the help of the mafia as is mostly the case in Montenegro), the hotel-owner is worried because of the recent explosions that have taken place within the hotel and the shooting of the investigator, and claims, “The local mafia did it because this was the first big investment here by people who were not part of any lobby, and had no ‘protection’…”

Yet even with the threat of the local mafia, foreign investors and businessmen are doing anything but shying away from Montenegro. Russians are the primary investors in Montenegro today, along with Canadian gold miner Peter Munk’s project on transforming a shipyard into a 75 million Euro marina-complex for yachts! But while Montenegro will someday become flashier than even Monte Carlo, there is another side to the story… As the leader of the opposition put it best, “On one side of the coin Montenegro is yachts, flashy cars, fancy villas, and the other side is destroyed industry, no jobs in the north, people moving to the coast for work. It’s unsustainable, we have 200 miles of coastline and you can’t build a luxury marina in every village.” So what is in store for Montenegro’s future? The only conclusion one can draw so far is that the elite and corrupt individuals will only benefit from Montenegro’s success, and that they will probably only ruin its natural beauty rather than make it even more splendid.


- Alisa Kolenovic
Source: The Guardian


Studying the Universe in Order to Figure Out God's Ways

For many centuries, it has been Christian heresy to believe in science instead of God and the church. Controversies of magnanimus proportions have errupted: creationism vs. evolution, God vs. The Big Bang, etc. While many Christians cling onto their faith, many of them are also accepting the answers provided by science.

Yes, it's true: as time goes on, it is becoming a more and more acceptable to believe in the results of scientific research. In an attempt to show people that it is not afraid of scientific studies, the Vatican is hosting a scientific conference for astronomers. In answering many of the lingering questions of the universe through mathematical means, the Vatican hopes to unravel the mystery of how God has created all of existence. For those grappling with the task of balancing spiritual faith with science, believing that science explains God's methods seems just the right compromise.

- Maria Rubio
Source: BBC

Poem of the Week

This week, Nitzan Mager shares with us a poem by celebrated Jewish poet Yehuda Amichai.

Yehuda Amichai was born in W¸rzburg, Germany, as Ludwig Pfeuffer, to an Orthodox Jewish family. He immigrated with his family to Palestine in 1935 then moved to Jerusalem in 1936. He was a member of the strike force of the Haganah, which were the defense forces of Jewish settlements in pre-state Palestine. He fought in World War II (British Army Jewish Brigade) and the Israeli War of Independence as a young man. He also fought in several of Israel's other wars. He later became an advocate of peace and reconciliation in the region, working with Arab writers.

Following his time as a soldier, Amichai attended Hebrew University, studying biblical texts and Hebrew literature. After that, he taught in secondary school. He was "discovered" in 1965 by the poet Ted Hughes, who translated several of Amichai's books. Years later, it has been remarked with some truth that Amichai is the most widely translated Hebrew poet since the biblical King David.

This poem is an unabashedly honest ode to life. Throughout our lives, we are often told that there is a time for everything. However, sages know that time is our most elusive mistress. Just as we have found her, undressed her, prepared to make love to her, a vision or her, fully dressed, walks out the door. But our soul is with her, where our mind and hands and feet cannot go. Amichai offers us a most paradoxical and impossible solution of simultaneity, yet ultimately assures us there is none.

In reading this poem, I felt not a tinge of pessimism. In fact, the feelings it stirred within me were quite the contrary. I was left with an unabashedly passionate desire to live.


A Man In His Life

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather
them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.
A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.
And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.
He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.

At This Moment

This week, Alisa Kolenovic and Nicole Lebenson ask, "Disregarding the constraints of the time-space continuum, which two authors do you think should have dated or gotten married?"

Mark Twain and Audre Lord (a famous black lesbian author).
-Nicole Lebenson

John Milton had a total hard on for Edmund Spenser. He'd make blind love to him all night if he wasn't so religious. Spenser might not mind though, just look at the Fairy Queen, a whole lot of same sex relations going on there. So yeah, my choices are Edmund Spenser and John Milton.
-Michael Bronner

J. D. Salinger and Emily Dickinson, because both seriously needed to get laid.
-Zev Baranov

Albert Camus (really deep existentialist philosopher and writer) and Plum Sykes (really shallow chick lit author and Vogue contributor). That would be a fun trainwreck to watch.
-Maria Rubio

Dumas and Morrison—they both have such intensity and passion in their prose but they channel it into masculinity and femininity, respectively. Can you imagine Sula, or Denver from Beloved meeting Edmund from the Count of Monte Cristo? They might fight, sure, but with such passion! I also think if Frank O'hara had been friends (but not romantically involved) with Ernest Hemingway, there is a chance a suicide could have been prevented.
-Krishna Sury

Charlotte Bronte and Frank McCourt.
-Rebecca Khan

Dr. Seuss and Mary Shelley.
-Jeffrey Schachar

J.D. Salinger and Doris Lessing.
-Alex Perkins

F. Scott Fitzgerald and Sapphire (Ramona Lofton) or Charles Dickens and Nicole Krauss. (I would have said Jonathan Safran Foer with Krauss but they're already married which I was completely unaware of.)
-Joffre Molina

Jane Austen and Jimmy Buffet. She would love it. Move to the islands and trade in her corset for a hawaiian print, button down t-shirt.
-Margalit Haber

Hunter s. Thompson and Edgar Allen Poe
- John Luvett

Cicero and Pat Robertson, because there is nothing hotter than Roman-on-homophobe action!
- David Jochnowitz

Greetings!

After the industrial revolution altered the way in which writers and artists viewed the world, it became no secret that city life can take its toll on one's natural soul. Thankfully, there are still a few simple things that can replenish one's creativity: like the intake of new knowledge and the creativity of others.

Please take your time to enjoy the traditions, writers, and events that we have opted to share with you.

Announcements
The Poetry Club and English Majors' Office would like to announce the upcoming English Majors' Open Mic. It will take place on Thursday, Oct 25th, at 1:30 - 3:30, in the State Lounge of the Brooklyn College Student Center. Every semester, many talented and brilliant writers of the Brooklyn College community meet to share their work at this venue. Be prepared to either join the ranks by reading a piece, or escape via another's unique perspective.

*****

As the immigration debate grows more contentious by the day (or at least by the election season) it becomes increasingly important that we have a solid grip on the facts that are so often distorted by politicians, pundits and the press. With this in mind, Jane Guskin and David Wilson, authors of "The Politics of Immigration: Questions and Answers" will be hosting a dialogue on immigration reform at Brooklyn's Voxpop on Thursday, September 27th at 7 p.m.

The book is both wide ranging in its scope and specific in its approach: it takes on the hot-button issue with compelling arguments and loads of data, and is assembled in accessible question-and-answer format. The authors will seek to shed light on all aspects of the immigration debate, and hope to debunk long-held myths (such as "the immigrant workforce is a drain on social services" argument). Those in favor of restrictive immigration policies will find their reasoning challenged by Guskin and Wilson, while those undecided on the issue will have plenty of facts and reasoning to leave with an informed opinion. The authors hope their book will serve as a tool to combat myths and disinformation surrounding the ongoing immigration debate.

"As the immigrant rights movement grows in size and energy, we need quick facts and deep history. This book gives us both."
- Aarti Shahani, Co-Founder, Families for Freedom


Vox Pop is located at 1022 Cortelyou Road in Flatbush, Brooklyn.

More info at www.voxpopnet.net

Strangers on a Train

Strangers on a Train Screening and Interview with Farley Granger at Whitman Hall this Thursday.

Perhaps no other director working within the Hollywood system has been responsible for more classics than the master of suspense, Alfred Hitchcock. The man churned out so many critically lauded hits that it would be easy to overlook a masterpiece or two, and I don’t know if the same could be said for any other director in the past century of film. It would be a shame if his noir-chiller Strangers on a Train were forgotten in a flurry of praise for Rear Window or Psycho. Fifty-six years later, Strangers still packs quite a punch: it is tense, darkly funny, brilliantly cut, and perfectly acted.

There will be a free screening of the film at Whitman Hall on Thursday, September 27th, with a Q&A with its star, Farley Granger, afterward. Professor Foster Hirsch of the Brooklyn College Film Department and author of numerous books on film, including "The Dark Side of the Screen: Film Noir" will interview Granger, who had his biggest commercial hit with Strangers in 1951. "I never get tired of seeing it," Professor Hirsch told me. "I discover something new and engaging each time. He still manages to engage me at the level of plot mechanics."

Strangers on a Train kicked off an astounding run of classics in the 1950’s for Hitch, a run that culminated in perhaps the greatest three-peat of masterpieces to ever come from one director: Vertigo in 1958, North By Northwest in 1959, and Psycho in 1960. There is no better example in film of a director who could so flawlessly combine serious and thoughtful filmmaking with a purely entertaining thrill ride. No one straddles the line between art and entertainment better than the master of suspense, and Strangers on a Train may be the best example of a popcorn film that can be discussed and dissected for days. The story concerns deranged mama’s boy Bruno (a performance for the ages by Robert Walker) who proposes to "swap" murders with troubled tennis star Guy (a wonderfully complex Mr. Granger). Guy jokingly agrees to follow through with the ludicrous plan during their brief meeting on a train, but when Bruno actually fulfills his promise to murder Guy’s wife, his life quickly spirals out of control. A great and deceptively simple setup, but look just beneath the surface thrills and the film is teeming with homoerotic longing, a major Oedipus complex, and quiet complicity in Bruno’s murderous acts.

"It’s a great film," says Hirsch. "Hitchcock at his best. [It’s] wonderfully acted, has a wonderful plot… everything works. It has so many levels to it." Granger’s performance adds a whole other chilling dimension to the carefully constructed story. "He has the courage and intelligence as an actor to play the character as not entirely sympathetic," Hirsch says of Granger’s handling of the role of Guy. He is seemingly the good guy, but he’s a "social climber with murderous feelings toward his wife... and he plays it with an iciness and intelligence," notes Hirsch.

Professor Hirsch will be talking with the actor following the film about his experience on the film, his long career on stage and screen, and about his new book "Include Me Out: My Life From Goldwyn to Broadway," from St. Martin’s Publishing. Hirsch has been conducting interviews with Granger throughout the summer, and the appearance at our campus marks the end of a cross-country book-signing tour, which made stops at Manhattan’s Film Forum in April before heading to Chicago, Los Angeles, and Arkansas, to name a few.

Thursday’s screening will begin at 3 p.m. on the Brooklyn College campus, to be followed by the discussion with Granger. "He will be happy to sign copies of the book," Hirsch assured me. Strangers on a Train is a true movie masterpiece and an absolute must-see on the big screen.


- Nick Shimkin

Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur (Hebrew:יוֹם כִּפּוּר ) is a Jewish holiday, known in English as the Day of Atonement. With its central themes of atonement and repentance for sins against both God and one's fellow man, Yom Kippur is the most solemn of the Jewish holidays.

We here at the Brooklyn College English Major's Office felt it important to share a little of this holiday with the rest of the internet community.

Chapter 58
1Cry with full throat, without restraint;Raise your voice like a ram's horn!Declare to My people their transgression,To the House of Jacob their sin.

2 To be sure, they seek Me daily,Eager to learn My ways.Like a nation that does what is right,That has not abandoned the laws of its God,They ask Me for the right way,They are eager for the nearness of God:

3 "Why, when we fasted, did You not see?When we starved our bodies, did You pay no heed?"Because on your fast dayYou see to your businessAnd oppress all your laborers!

4 Because you fast in strife and contention,And you strike with a wicked fist!your fasting today is not suchAs to make your voice heard on high.

5 Is such the fast I desire,A day for men to starve their bodies?Is it bowing the head like a bulrushAnd lying in sackcloth and ashes?Do you call that a fast,A day when the Lord is favorable?

6 No, this is the fast I desire:To unlock the fetters of wickedness,And untie the cords of the yokeTo let the oppressed go free;To break off every yoke.

7 It is to share your bread with the hungry,And to take the wretched poor into your home;When you see the naked, to clothe him,And not to ignore your own kin.

8 Then shall your light burst through like the dawnAnd your healing spring up quickly;Your Vindicator shall march before you,The Presence of the Lord shall be your rear guard.

9 Then, when you call, the Lord will answer;When you cry, He will say: Here I am.If you banish the yoke from your midst,The menacing hand and evil speech,

10 And you offer your compassion to the hungryAnd satisfy the famished creature —The shall your light shine in darkness,And your gloom shall be like noonday.

11 The Lord will guide you always;He will slake your thirst in parched placesAnd give strength to your bones.You shall be like a watered garden,Like a spring whose waters do not fail.

12 Men from your midst shall rebuild ancient ruins,you shall restore foundations laid long ago.And you shall be called"Repairer of fallen walls,Restorer of lanes for habitation."

13 If you refrian from trampling the sabbath,From pursuing your affairs on My holy day;If call the sabbath "delight,"The Lord's holy day "honored";And if you honor it and go not your waysNor look to yours affairs, nor strike bargains —

14 Then you can seek the favor of the Lord.I will set you astride the heights of the earth,And let you enjoy the heritage of your father Jacob —For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.


Taken from Tanakh, The Holy Scriptures, (Philadelphia, Jerusalem:Jewish Publication Society) 1985.Used by permission of The Jewish Publication Society. Copyright (c)1962, 1992Third Edition by the Jewish Publication Society. No part of this textcan be reproduced or forwarded without written permission.Please visit the JPS website for more fine books of Jewish literatureand tradition.

Culture Corner

This week, Mohan Bell introduces us to Montserrat.

In 1995, when I was a young boy growing up in Jamaica, I watched T.V. and heard the word Montserrat streaming around the atmosphere. The news screamed about the loss of lives and properties occurring in this small Caribbean island, owed to a volcano erruption. I felt that the world was coming to an end, because of the malignant lava and cryptic tones that the newscaster used to describe the atrocity that had hit the island. It was the first time that I had really heard about Montserrat, though it was a country in the same region as mine. For the next years, the only thing I knew about Montserrat or even associated with it was the volcanic erruption that threw this island into devastation.

When I moved to America, I met a person from Montserrat; an actual Montserratian. She was a close friend of my family who boasted of the beauty of her island. Having only been exposed to the radio and T.V. reports of 1995, I used to wonder, "What beauty?" But still she boasted about her country.

After finding out more about this country, I realized that there is more to it than I had ever known.

Mountserrat is a small country in the lesser Antilles, named by Christopher Columbus in 1493. It was named after the Blessed Virgin of the Monastery of Mountserrat in Spain. It measures 102 sq km, considered to be 0.6 times the size of Washington DC. Arawaks and Caribs first settled there, but then it was opened up to the known world, after Christopher Columbus set out on his second voyage to the New World. In 1632, the English got control of the island, after Irish and British colonists moved there from St. Kitts and Nevis. African slaves came next. France and England fought over the island in the 18th century before the British officially put Mountserrat under the United Kingdom with the 1783 Treaty of Paris. Slavery was abolished in 1834.

In the 1970’s, the Beatles Producer set up a recording studio on the island leading to an influx of celebrity visitors and tourists. This and natural resources added to the economy of the country. However, in September of 1989, Hurricane Hugo devastated the island, leaving the country in ruin. It rebuilt itself, only to be hit by the volcano eruption in 1995.

In July of 1995, the Soufriere Hills volcano, though dormant for years, errupted, leaving half of the island uninhabitable. Many citizens fled the island. The capital, Plymouth, was destroyed. This left Mountserrat dependent on England for financial support. Many residents went to the United Kingdom. They were granted full residency in 1998 and then citizenship in 2002.

The country, which was called the Emerald Isle of the Caribbean (because of its history of Irish settlement and its stark resemblance to Ireland), is rebuilding itself with the help of United Kingdom support. It is still beautiful, with a new capital being built. It is also as green as always, and beautiful. The culture is reminiscent of English culture with the country participating in United Kingdom soccer competitions. But the volcano is still there, in this beautiful mountain country.

- Mohan Bell

Boylan Brief #73

Suing for Gun in School

The discussion over the right to carry guns in schools and universities has been opened up again, with a teacher suing an Oregon school district for the right to carry a firearm to work. The teacher claims that she needs to carry a gun to protect herself from her ex-husband. Yet, in a country still recovering from the tragic Virginia Tech shooting, allowing students and teachers the right to carry firearms to school is a very iffy matter. The Medford School District in Oregon prohibits teachers from bringing handguns to school. Nevertheless, the plaintiff cites her ex-husband’s abusiveness as the reason for her need of a handgun.

The school district comments that they have the right to regulate the behavior of their employees so that the students and staff will be safe. But the other side of the bench believes that state law gives the teacher the right to carry a gun. If the court grants a teacher the right to freely carry a gun into a school, what will this mean for the national discourse on gun control?

-Mohan Bell
Source: BBC


Printer Cartridges for Your Body

Computers aren’t only for surfing the internet about diseases anymore. HP is developing a new patch to distribute medicine to the body that is modeled after an ink cartridge for a printer. This new patch will have “microneedles,” tiny needles that will only penetrate the first layer of skin. HP has entrusted an Irish firm, Crospon, to develop these needles. Luck of the Irish, maybe?

The patch may be beneficial for those who cringe when they think of the pain typical needles bring. The microneedles will not pass through the layer of skin which feels pain, (the dermis). Additionally, it will be able to administer multiple medications at once. Those who would need to take multiple medications at one time will be eased of having to stick themselves with several needles or taking numerous pills a day. However, skeptics fear this new technology will be detrimental to a person’s health. They feel that creating microscopic holes in the topmost layer of skin will allow for bacteria to invade easily.This patch will take three years to create and then a few more to be tested. We will simply have to wait to find out if mini-printer cartridges will end up easing our fight against disease.

-Dominique Gauvard
Source: BBC


Gorilla Terrorists and Bananas

The Ohio based banana corporation, Chiquita, has agreed to pay a $25 million fine for giving protection money to the United Self Defense Forces of Colombia (AUC) and to the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). Both groups are considered terrorist groups by the US and the European Union, and have been responsible for massacres and assassinations, although they are currently involved in peace talks. Chiquita has claimed that they began making payments after some of their Colombian employees were threatened, and were only trying to protect them. Chiquita has since sold the Colombian division of their business.

- Emily Carman
Source: BBC

Poem of the Week

This week, Michael Bronner shares with us a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks.

I’ve chosen this poem because I love the bitter, loathing attitude towards class injustice which is presented by the author, Gwendolyn Brooks. The way in which Brooks describes these horrifically well-to-do “lovers of the poor,” their intentions to use their donation as a placard or medal of merit, and their reaction to being confronted with the harsh reality of the conditions which some people are forced to live under, screams with a shrill voice: society is wrong for allowing such abundance where others stand so bereft. Brooks also acknowledges the parallel between racial difference and economic status, weaving an image dripping with sarcasm and anger. The poem creates wonderfully detailed descriptions using indirect descriptions of the scene, allowing the reader to fully engross themselves within the world of the poem’s plot. In depicting a scene in which such injustice is allowed to exist and even further, that this injustice is exploited to garner laudation, leaves an imparting message that we as readers, and furthermore as human beings, should be ashamed and appalled and stopped immediately.

Born June 7th, 1917 in Topeka Kansas to Keziah Wims Brooks and David Anderson Brooks, Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks moved to Chicago, Illinois at the age of 6 weeks old. As a child, her parents nurtured her talent by taking her to many events where she met, among many poets, Langston Hughes. She was restricted from having contact with neighborhood children and instead spent her time imagining worlds in her own stories and writing poems. Brooks published her first poem in a children’s magazine at the age of 13 and by the age of 16 had acquired a portfolio of around 75 published works. In 1949 Annie Allen (a loosely-connected series of poems related to a black girl's growing up in Chicago) was published and received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1950. Brooks became the first African American to receive this prestigious award in poetry. In addition to the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize, Brooks was made Poet Laureate in Illinois in 1968. In 1985, Brooks became the Library of Congress's Consultant in Poetry, a one year position whose title changed the next year to Poet Laureate. In 1988, she was inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame. In 1994, she was chosen as the National Endowment for the Humanities’ Jefferson Lecturer, one of the highest honors for American literature and the highest award in the humanities given by the federal government. On December 3rd 2000, Gwendolyn Brooks died in her Chicago home.


THE LOVERS OF THE POOR

Arrive. The Ladies from the Ladies' Betterment League
Arrive in the afternoon, the late light slanting
In diluted gold bars across the boulevard brag
Of proud, seamed faces with mercy and murder hinting
Here, there, interrupting, all deep and debonair,
The pink paint on the innocence of fear;
Walk in a gingerly manner up the hall.
Cutting with knives served by their softest care,
Served by their love, so barbarously fair.
Whose mothers taught: You’d better not be cruel!
You had better not throw stones upon the wrens!
Herein they kiss and coddle and assault
Anew and dearly in the innocence
With which they baffle nature. Who are full,
Sleek, tender-clad, fit, fiftyish, a-glow, all
Sweetly abortive, hinting at fat fruit,
Judge it high time that fiftyish fingers felt
Beneath the lovelier planes of enterprise.
To resurrect. To moisten with milky chill.
To be a random hitching-post or plush.
To be, for wet eyes, random and handy hem.
Their guild is giving money to the poor.
The worthy poor. The very very worthy
And beautiful poor. Perhaps just not too swarthy?
perhaps just not too dirty nor too dim
Nor--passionate. In truth, what they could wish
Is--something less than derelict or dull.
Not staunch enough to stab, though, gaze for gaze!
God shield them sharply from the beggar-bold!
The noxious needy ones whose battle’s bald
Nonetheless for being voiceless, hits one down.
But it’s all so bad! and entirely too much for them.
The stench; the urine, cabbage, and dead beans,
Dead porridges of assorted dusty grains,
The old smoke, heavy diapers, and, they’re told,
Something called chitterlings. The darkness. Drawn
Darkness, or dirty light. The soil that stirs.
The soil that looks the soil of centuries.
And for that matter the general oldness. Old
Wood. Old marble. Old tile. Old old old.
Not homekind Oldness! Not Lake Forest, Glencoe.
Nothing is sturdy, nothing is majestic,
There is no quiet drama, no rubbed glaze, no
Unkillable infirmity of such
A tasteful turn as lately they have left,
Glencoe, Lake Forest, and to which their cars
Must presently restore them. When they’re done
With dullards and distortions of this fistic
Patience of the poor and put-upon.
They’ve never seen such a make-do-ness as
Newspaper rugs before! In this, this “flat,”
Their hostess is gathering up the oozed, the rich
Rugs of the morning (tattered! the bespattered. . . .)
Readies to spread clean rugs for afternoon.
Here is a scene for you. The Ladies look,
In horror, behind a substantial citizeness
Whose trains clank out across her swollen heart.
Who, arms akimbo, almost fills a door.
All tumbling children, quilts dragged to the floor
And tortured thereover, potato peelings, soft-
Eyed kitten, hunched-up, haggard, to-be-hurt.
Their League is allotting largesse to the Lost.
But to put their clean, their pretty money, to put
Their money collected from delicate rose-fingers
Tipped with their hundred flawless rose-nails seems...
They own Spode, Lowestoft, candelabra,
Mantels, and hostess gowns, and sunburst clocks,
Turtle soup, Chippendale, red satin "hangings,"
Aubussons and Hattie Carnegie. They Winter
In Palm Beach; cross the Water in June; attend,
When suitable, the nice Art Institute;
Buy the right books in the best bindings; saunter
On Michigan, Easter mornings, in sun or wind.
Oh Squalor! This sick four-story hulk, this fibre
With fissures everywhere! Why, what are bringings
Of loathe-love largesse? What shall peril hungers
So old old, what shall flatter the desolate?
Tin can, blocked fire escape and chitterling
And swaggering seeking youth and the puzzled wreckage
Of the middle passage, and urine and stale shames
And, again, the porridges of the underslung
And children children children. Heavens! That
Was a rat, surely, off there, in the shadows? Long
And long-tailed? Gray? The Ladies from the Ladies'
Betterment League agree it will be better
To achieve the outer air that rights and steadies,
To hie to a house that does not holler, to ring
Bells elsetime, better presently to cater
To no more Possibilities, to get
Away. Perhaps the money can be posted.
Perhaps they two may choose another Slum!
Some serious sooty half-unhappy home!--
Where loathe-love likelier may be invested.
Keeping their scented bodies in the center
Of the hall as they walk down the hysterical hall,
They allow their lovely skirts to graze no wall,
Are off at what they manage of a canter,
And, resuming all the clues of what they were,
Try to avoid inhaling the laden air.

At This Moment

This week Michael Bronner and Emily Carman asked BC students and staff, "If you could be famous for one thing; anything at all, what would you want it to be?"


“I'd want to be famous for being me, because I think I’m pretty awesome lol. umm... I dunno. Maybe for having a great mind and writing spectacular novels because I'm trying to write a book and I want to be recognized as one of the great writers like Dickens, or Bronte, or Austen, or ppl like that.” - Amna Abdus-Salaam

“My singing. Finding a cure for war. Or, holding my breath under water for Aa really long time.”
- Dominique Gauvard

“I'd want to be famous for either what I've done for people, what I've done in the name of adventure, or, in music.” - Will McAndrew

“for being an honest politician who actually delivered on her promises” - Krishna Surry

“I'd really enjoy being famous for writing something great or doing something spectacular for humanity or at least some portion of humanity. I'd want to be known for bettering the world or contributing something to it in some way. That would be the greatest fame, for me.”
- Alisa Kolenovic

“doing something that really made/makes a difference in society. I mean I don’t ever want to be famous, because fame doesn’t mean anything, if what your famous for something that didn’t make a meaningful difference in peoples lives.” - Sandra Bruno

“As a famous novelist” - Tony Mauroudis

“For being wrongly convicted, and set free” - Nicole Lebenson

“Finding a cure for cancer” - Mariella Millien

“I'm already famous” - Oleksiy V.

“A famous philanthropist” - Natalia P.

“As the most successful woman in the world” - Emily Singer

“Slam Poetry and Basketball” - Jacob Victorine

“For helping people by opening a homeless shelter” - Sophia Yevdayeva

Greetings!

If you're like us, your schedule is clogged with all sorts of responsibilities, and the start of another academic semester only intensifies the need to exhaust every moment's potential.

Thankfully, scenes like the relaxing sunset above serve as reminders of life's vast beauty. It is in this vein that we'd like to share with you a few nuggets of beauty that we've discovered via the written word. For it is the job of the writer to encapsulate in a few phrases the relevance of a subject, and the writers we have profiled do so wonderfully.

Announcements
The Poetry Club and English Majors' Office would like to announce the upcoming English Majors' Open Mic. It will take place on Thursday, Oct 25th, at 1:30 - 3:30, in the State Lounge of the Brooklyn College Student Center. Every semester, many talented and brilliant writers of the Brooklyn College community meet to share their work at this venue. Be prepared to either join the ranks by reading a piece, or escape via another's unique perspective.

In Memoriam of Grace Paley

In Memoriam of Grace Paley
By: Melanie Kaye-Kantrowitz

Grace Gutseit (later changed to Goodside) was born in the Bronx in 1922. She always wrote, but her first book was published almost by chance (mother of her child's playmate showed a story to editor-husband). Her work was adored, and though publication and all sorts of honors came to her, she always sounded uniquely like herself.

In writing as in activism she was brave. In Trarist Russia her uncle had been shot out in front with a flag. "Don't carry the flag," they had warned Grace, but she always did. She grew up a fierce socialist who discovered non-violence, a chutzpahdik visionary for more than 50 years, a steadfast feminist against militarism, against racism, working in Greenwich Village with neighborhood peace groups or traveling to Hanoi, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Chile, Isral/Palestine - she was perhaps the original "think globally act locally" person.

I first read Grace Paley's work during that explosive period of second wave feminism. She had been there but I had not known to look for her, and then the title of her first book, The Little Disturbances of Man put me off. (Man?) I was in graduate school at UC Berkeley, trying to unlearn my Brooklyn Jewish accent - and there was that language in a book! But what was happening? Plot? Structure? Ring form? As far as I could tell, voice was everything. Thus I and a whole cohort of New York Jewish women were given permission to speak not in Grace's voice, but in our own.

She was inspiring as a writer because of her precision, her courage, her kindnesss. Has anyone ever been so herself? At a time when it wasn't done, Grace took seriously in her writing and her politics, the lives of women. Thus we have three thin books of stories, a collection of poems, and some essays. In "The Poet's Occasional Alternative", the poet explains why there wasn't more, choosing to make a pie instead of a poem.

At the 25th anniversary celebrating the end of the Vietnam was, Grace read a piece caled "Inherit the War". I asked her to send me a copy, and a few weeks later, there it was, an envelope addressed in her large, generous hand. "It's up to you, kiddo," she would say.

Here it is:

A Story by Grace Paley, "Inherit the War"

The father had been preparing a war for his son's birthday. He started long ago. You have to, you know. People who decide on a war and expect it to happen the minute or week or month they want it to are often disappointed. You also cannot do it alone. The father has a few friends from his war who are willing to help out. They have sons too. There are quite simple ways to begin - probably in childhood. For instance, help the boy develop an easy dislike for your neighbor's daughter. Mild prejudice will then rest contentedly in his little breast. As time goes on, it can appear as nothing worse than sleepy contempt for their daughter.

The father remembers his war, how long it took for his father to get it right. He was almost too old. (The father and his friends are now called the Great Generation. This isn't exactly fair. Theirfather had fought in an equally famous way and luckily had survived to provide a war for the father and his friends.)

This father does need more preparation, and quickly. His son is growing beautifully, but he's reading too much. Some of his ideas seem to come from leftish media - the schools are also bad, even treacherous.

But he's sure, the father is sure that he can find the old newspapers that he's kept of the right pages of the history book, which are clever about enumerating insults to our national soul and natural hegemony. The recollection of historial insult is important in the life of great nations, as well as their stunning victories.

The father would like his son to be an airman. Of course anxiety about civilian deaths - women and children - always undercuts the enthusiasm of sentimental citizens and tender-hearted boys.

He's talked to many other fathers. They're nearly ready. They've begun their letters to newspapers, their articles on the wimps in Congress and the administration. Most important, they've selected the enemy and are very clear about it.

He has only one year left - before his son's eighteenth birthday. His son is not unaware of what is coming. He has that boyish excitement, that intensifying patriotism - his own war at last.

Currently Reading...

Throughout our academic careers, we are forced to read books that we'd otherwise never encounter. Some of these books are breezed through, barely having a chance to make a scratch on our subconsciouses. Others, however, are fully digested and leave an indelible imprint on our hearts, our minds, and our spirits.

Currently Reading... is a new section of the Boylan Blog which seeks to spotlight the latter. We hope to pass a passion for good literature to you, our reader, and to broaden the palates of those who already possess a hunger for the written word.

This week, Mohan Bell tell us about the book he has just finished reading, Breath, Eyes, Memory, by Edwidge Danticat.

This summer, I went on a reading expedition. This was supposed to be my vacation: a vacation into the world of literature, my chance to sweep through many cultures and ways of life. In the thickets of my expedition, I came upon the novel Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat. I read it in one day. One reason for this is that it is a small novel. However, the other reason is that I was held in the grasp of Danticat’s magical prose, which is charged with deep pain as well as an exploration of Haiti's deep cultural magic. This is a story about healing. It shows that healing is not easy, but a thing that takes time and pain. It is also a book about memories, and the haunting realities of them.

Breath, Eyes, Memory tells the story of a Haitian who immigrates to America, Sophie, and the connections she has with the women in her life. It takes us on a journey from her life in Haiti, to her move to America, and then her return to her homeland, where she has to go to find healing. One also can see it set in the backdrop of the political and cultural turmoil of Haiti.

One thing that intrigued me greatly about this book was the rich and thick storytelling that the reader encounters. One can sense the wisdom of the Haitian women who recount their stories, carrying on tradition. The main nucleus of this novel, though, is sexual humiliation and what it does for the mind of the women in the novel - be it rape or cultural methods of testing female virginity.

Readers can still summate that this is a first novel, because there are weak moments, especially in the final parts. However, these weak moments can only be caught with careful reading. If you are just reading and enjoying the richness of the story, as well as the cultural wealth that is being exuded, you will not catch the holes, but instead find yourself lost in a world unlike your own.

This is a novel that will definitely be recommended to friends over and over as a fast-paced and moving read.

Mohan Bell

Boylan Brief #72

The Silent Sins of Soy

Attention all self-proclaimed health nuts: soy isn’t what it has been cracked up to be. Many of us, including myself, have been persuaded to believe that soy products are an ideal way to get protein, as well as countless health-benefiting nutrients.
Unfortunately, like most things blown up in the mainstream with a torrent of advertisements and a plethora of promises, soy is a disappointment. More disturbingly, it is a real danger to your health.

In 1999 the FDA approved labeling soy products with the statement: "Diets low in saturated fat and cholesterol that include 25 grams of soy protein a day may reduce the risk of heart disease."

Generally, claims such as these must be substantiated by scientific studies. And these claims were. But, can they be trusted? "There are a lot of problems with these studies," says clinical nutritionist Kaayla Daniel, adding that the 1999 heart health claim was actually an industry-funded initiative.

Naturally, this 4 billion dollar industry doesn’t want you to know that there have been many more studies— for years now— that disclose the dangers of soy. Here are a few:
1) The processing required to hydrolyze soy protein into vegetable protein produces excitotoxins, which cause brain-cell death.
2) Antinutrients in soy block enzymes needed for digestion, and naturally occurring phytates block absorption of essential minerals.
3) Isoflavones found in soy may also block the body's estrogens, which reduce the risk for breast cancer or uterine cancer before menopause.
4) In men, soy has been shown to lower testosterone levels and sex drive.

There are healthy forms of soy, however these are generally not the products you will find on the shelf. Soy milk, soy protein bars, and dozens of other soy by-products that have infiltrated countless foods pose great health risks. Risks that far outweigh benefits.

- Nitzan Mager
News Source: Utne


Indian Men Strip to Catch Rapist

Recently, the body of a thirty-five year old married woman was found in Rajasthan, a state in west India. Upon examination of her body, it was discovered that she has been raped before she was killed. Though the country’s legal system will take time to deal with the matter, the local village council took immediate action. They ordered every man and boy in the town to strip and undergo examination to see whether their bodies showed signs of struggle. No one was found guilty. No male ordered to strip has complained, and it seems that the village residents were more appalled by the atrocities inflicted upon the dead woman than a temporary loss of their clothing.

Local and state police have voiced their dissatisfaction with the actions of the village council. India’s law enforcement operates much the same as the United States’, and cases such as this one often stay unresolved for years. Many villages, especially in Rajasthan, have village councils in which they invest the authority to handle local affairs. Convinced that no man in their town committed rape and murder of a married, respected woman, the people in the village can move on and mourn the dead woman without fear or suspicion. Although officially frowned upon by national officials, Indian citizens largely approve of the village council’s methods. It is interesting to wonder: if such methods were employed by American townspeople, would the majority of US citizens approve of action on a local level? Or would they rise up, in angry opposition?

- Krishna Sury
News Source: BBC


Methane Gas Emissions Should Not Be Underestimated!

Certainly a growing concern internationally has been global warming and its effect on our future generations. The media has been increasing its coverage of this issue over the past few years, focusing on how carbon dioxide emissions trap heat in the atmosphere, and how the earth is gradually getting warmer and warmer. As a result, weather has become increasingly strange, leading to worries about ice caps melting as well as the future flooding of whole towns.

But a recent development has given us a better understanding of what is going on. It concludes that methane gas emissions, which are often overlooked, are actually 23 times more powerful than carbon dioxide! Therefore, this gas is way more efficient at trapping heat. Many scientists are worried that the global warming situation is actually far worse than already speculated. Their fear is based on several facts: thawing ice caps release methane, temperatures are rising, and methane emissions have never been carefully studied. Katey Walter, a limnologist, is one of the first people to measure methane emissions (specifically in North Siberian lakes), and says that, “…methane is being released from lakes in the far North—Alaska, Siberia, elsewhere—at a far greater rate than anyone has estimated.”

- Alisa Kolenovic
News Source: NPR


Russian Says: Have a Very Merry Reproductive Holiday

China might be known for its restrictions on family size, but now Russia is making waves with its own set of reproductive woes. Population rates have plunged since the perishing of the Soviet Union, and now a region of Russia is offering couples incentives to have children. Sergei Morozov, the governor of the Ulyanovsk region of Russia, has declared his desire for couples to take a day off on September 12th to cohabitate - and, hopefully, reproduce. The reason for this auspicious date? Nine months to the day - June 12th - is Russia's national day.

The program, which has been in effect for the past three years, seems successful since the population rate has increased 4.5% in the last year. However, given the innate sensitivity of the domestic social structure, one has to wonder about the ethics behind such a program. In a world of increasing commodification, is it okay to pay people for increasing the population?

- Maria Rubio
News Source: BBC


Zimbabwe's Archbishop Resigns After Breaking Celibacy Vow
Archbishop of Zimbabwe Pius Ncube resigned his position on September 12th, after it was revealed that he had broken his vow of celibacy with several women.

Why should anyone care about yet another high ranking member of the clergy caught with his pants down, especially one thousands of miles away in Africa? In this particular case, one should care because Pius Ncube, the now former Archbishop, was a fierce – in fact, the fiercest - public opponent of Robert Mugabe, President of Zimbabwe and dictator extraordinaire.

Mugabe, a figure who came onto the political scene of Africa alongside the likes of Ghana’s Kwame Nkruma, was a charismatic young man who rose through the ranks to eventually become President in 1987. However, like so many other African leaders, he gained power through strongman tactics and has held power using strongman tactics ever since. Mugabe is responsible for the ethnic massacre of 20,000 civilians, rigged elections, land and agricultural reform that has caused mass starvation and the highest currency inflation rate in the world today. The lifespan of the average Zimbabwean is between 34 and 37. Mugabe, due to his reputation (Prince Charles had to issue a public apology after accidentally shaking his hand), has been banned from traveling within the E.U and the United States.

The President has many critics, but none as outspoken or powerful as Pius Ncube. Ncube’s illicit affairs were discovered after a camera was hidden in his bedroom by a “private investigator” who, in reality, was a government official. Essentially, although he is guilty of breaking his vows, the Archbishop is yet another victim of the Mugabe regime’s efforts to bring down the opposition.

Ncube’s resignation was not requested by the Pope or any superior. Rather, he gave it so that he can fight Mugabe in court without sullying the name of the Catholic Church in Zimbabwe. It is a shame to see that after twenty years in power Mugabe is still able to so easily suppress his opposition. Was Ncube wrong? Yes. Does it take away from all he’s done to fight Mugabe? No. Hopefully, Ncube will be able to carry on his struggle for the people of Zimbabwe outside of the Church and remain a voice for change in the public sphere.

- Nicole Lebenson
News Source: UK Times

Poem of the Week

This week, Maria Rubio shares with us a poem by David Kirby.

I discovered David Kirby on the website of an up-and-coming doctorate creative writing program. My logic told me that the best writing programs would have the best writers on their staff. I set out to read Kirby’s work and evaluate it for myself.

The first piece that I read by Kirby, “Ode to Myself as a Rough Draft”, blew me away with its Whitmanesque lyricisms and thoroughly engaging wordplay. I felt as though every thread of existence were combined and connected by his work, and that I could find everything – myself, philosophy, politics, play dough – in his utterance. If poetry is the highly charged medium with which we document our experiences, Kirby’s poetry, I was sure, is the parchment on which all poems interconnect.

Having graduated from Johns Hopkins University with a PhD at the age of 24, Kirby set to work right away at Florida State University. His prolific writing spurred an incredibly vast array of reviews, articles, essays, and poems. To date, he is credited with authorship of twenty-two books, and has garnered praise and distinction via such notable awards as the Guy Owen Prize, the Kay Deeter Award, the James Dickey Prize, and the title of Robert O. Lawton Distinguished Professor at Florida State University.


Ode to Myself as a Rough Draft

The key to today’s New York Times crossword puzzle is
a Miles Davis quote that turns out to be “When you hit
........ a wrong note, it is the next note that makes it good
or bad” and not the only other Miles Davis quote I know,
........ which is "If somebody told me I only had an hour to live,

I'd spend it choking a white man,” which makes me think—
the first quote, that is, not the second—about the time
........ the librarian asks me if I’d like to donate my papers
to the library and I say, There aren’t any, and he says,
........ I’m talking about the poem drafts, mainly, the first drafts

as well as the second and third and fourth ones you wrote
as you worked such and such a poem up into its publishable
........ state, and I say, Yeah, that’s what I’m saying, there aren’t any,
and he says Oh, that’s too bad, because your colleague
........ So and So donated her papers and got a $600,000

tax deduction and I say, Hold on a sec, give me
a weekend or two and I think I can locate those things,
........ but the truth is I really have destroyed my first drafts,
although “destroyed” is too bombastic a word:
........ it sounds as though I took off my coat and loosened my tie

and turned my sleeves back and took everything I’d been
saving for years in an ornate teakwood chest and made
........ a heap of them in the garden and struck a match
and then hesitated for a moment before the destruction
........ of so much beauty, such value, and then bent to the task

with grim determination, touching the flame to a sheet
at the bottom of the pile and then standing back
........ as the fire roars upward, smoothing my mustache
with the back of my hand as decades of careful work
........ turn black and then ashy as they float off into

the evening sky. But that didn’t happen, because
I never thought once of preserving my infantile
........ scrawlings, my dirt-dauber smears and scratches
that looked as though they’d been made by someone
........ who didn’t know how to hold a pencil, my half-witted efforts

to gin up something good, something semi-permanent,
which I did, but only after taking every word out and putting another
........ in its place and then removing that one and substituting
a third—writing “boomerang” and then “kangaroo”
........ and “Aussie hat,” only to have “kangaroo” become

“I don’t know” and send my stanzas in a wholly new
direction—until what I ended up with, what I abandoned,
........ really, bore no more resemblance to the scraps
from which it sprang than a baby does to the monkeys
........ and salamanders and jellyfish who either roamed the earth

or floated in its seas in the days before they decided
to evolve so that they, too, could have flat-screen TVS
........ and internet pizza delivery. True, there are a couple
of first drafts worth saving: in 1958, the pre-Beatles
........ Quarry Men (John, Paul, and George along with Colin

Hanton on drums and Duff Lowe playing honky-tonk piano)
recorded Buddy Holly’s “That’ll Be The Day” as well as
........ an original composition called “In Spite of All the Danger”
in Percy Phillips’ soi-disant recording studio, a tiny airless room
........ where, since they couldn’t afford to tape first and then transfer,

they went “straight to vinyl” and produced what became
the Rarest Record in the World, a fragile shellac disc
........ that was passed around Liverpool to anyone who asked
to take it home for a day or two and then disappeared until 1981,
........ when it was rediscovered by Duff Lowe and bought

by Paul McCartney for an undisclosed sum, because
it’s a lovely souvenir of more innocent days, yeah,
........ but also probably so nobody could hear how crappy
they sounded back then! I like the idea of being wrong,
........ how being wrong can lead you to something better,

whereas being right might just lead you to something
that’s merely good. “Poison’s not bad,” says Keith Richards;
........ “it’s a matter of how much.” And I believe it was
the great Oscar Wilde who said, in his preface to The Picture
........ of Dorian Gray, in which case who else could it have been,

unless there are two books by that title, which I somehow
seriously doubt, that when critics disagree, the artist is in
........ accord with himself. Only sometimes the critics are ourselves,
Oscar! For each of us is genius and stumblebum, each wizard
........ and pinhead like Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle

Emmanuel Ambrose Diggs, who combined the first letters
of his first two monikers and went by “Oz” instead of the name
........ the other initials spelled. When Toto reveals that it is he, Diggs,
who pulls the levers and twists the knobs to create his spectacle,
........ he shouts in the wizard’s voice, “Pay no attention to that man

behind the curtain!,” but by then it’s too late. And when
his balloon takes off before Dorothy is in the basket, she shouts,
........ “Come back! Come back!” and he says “I can’t come back—
I don’t know how it works!” But it does work:
........ well, for him, at least. Poor Dorothy is left to figure things

out on her own, but that may not be all bad, either.
Here’s Tennessee Williams, in his story “The Resemblance Between
........ a Violin Case and a Coffin”: “And it was about then,
about that time, that I began to find life unsatisfactory
........ as an explanation of itself and was forced to adopt the method

of the artist of not explaining but putting the blocks together
in some other way that seems more significant to him.
........ Which is a rather fancy way of saying I started writing.”
And he, Tennessee, should know! Now as we move those blocks
........ around and put them together in new combinations,

it might help if we had one or more of the dozen “plot wheels”
that Erle Stanley Gardner used and I saw recently at
........ the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center
on the University of Texas campus. Gardner cheerfully admitted
........ his Perry Mason novels were formulaic and, eager to provide

his readership with what they already knew they liked,
hand-lettered his cardboard wheels with every possible plot permutation
........ under headings from "Acts of Villainy as Story Base"
(such as “Villain Murders a Beautiful Woman and Tries to Hide
........ the Body”) to "Wheel of Solution" (“Meets Trickery With Logic”)

as well as "Wheel of Hostile Minor Characters Who Function
in Making Complications for Hero,"the choices here including "Gossip,"
........ "Meddlesome Friend," and "Hick Detective."
My own start in the department of moving the blocks around
........ and making new connections begins when I am six years old

and a first grader at Sacred Heart Academy and decide
one day to rake my lima beans, which are mushy
........ and flavorless and not at all like the one Miss Josie makes
at home, into a planter in the school cafeteria, in which act
........ I am caught by Sister Mary Agnes, who tells me

that wasting is not a venial sin, such as pinching your baby
brother or talking back to Sister Mary Agnes, but a mortal one,
........ like murder or blasphemy. Let me get this straight,
I say to myself: I rake my lima beans into a planter and,
........ before I can go to confession and be absolved, I am hit

by a speeding car on my way home and wake to find myself
sitting on a rock in Hell, and Judas Iscariot is on the rock
........ next to mine, and he puts out his cigarette and says,
“What are you in for, kid?” and I say, “Raking my lima beans
........ into a planter in the school cafeteria – you?”

Now it has taken me until now to tell this story, because,
as Thomas Merton says, prayer is “a raid on the unspeakable,”
........ and is not poetry an assault on the unspeakable as well,
and what is more unspeakable than one’s self? And I mean that
........ in both sense of the term, folks! Of course, after one has

spoken, then it’s revise, revise, revise: you write “jelly:
grape” and then “sup knot” and say to yourself, “What the hell’s
........ a sup knot?” and think “supper” and “Last Supper”
and see the apostles’ hands criss-crossed in a knot or “sup knot”
........ as they partake of the “grapes,” though not in “jelly” form.

I say let the poet be a rough draft, and let that draft
never be completed. And I say let the poem be many drafts,
........ and may even the final draft be a rough one, even though
we give it another name or no name at all. Revision’s fun:
........ in Paris, Monsieur Marcel Vatelot the violin restorer

has grown too old to do the delicate work required by his trade,
and so he has turned his business over to his son Etienne but still comes
........ to the workshop on Rue Portalis every day and sits in
his overstuffed chair saying, “I want to die gazing at the restoration
........ of violins.” Also, revision’s the only way to get the poem

to where it speaks for someone other than yourself. So now
you’re wondering, “Dave, who is that other person I’m speaking for?”
........ Well, reader, I’ll tell you: you’re speaking for Pancho Villa.
That’s right, he who was born José Doroteo Arango Arámbula
and rose from beginnings that were humble, to say the least,

to became provisional governor of the state of Chihuahua
as well one of the foremost leaders of the Mexican Revolution
........ (1911-1920) and who, at the end of his life, was ambushed
and shot dead by rivals, but not before saying to his companion,
........“Don’t let it end like this. Tell them I said something.”

At This Moment

This week Mohan Bell and Dominique Gauvard asked BC students and staff, "When most of us read we imagine ourselves within the text. If you could live in any novel, what book and author would you choose?"

"I would have to say, The Unbearable likeness of Being by Milan Kundera"
- Aisha Douglas

"Mansfield Park"
- Vicktorya Buchanan

"Alice in Wonderland"
- Jeffery Schachar

"Timeline by Micheal Crighton"
- Thelia Abramowitz

"The Life and Times of Hugh Heifner"
- Marc Hahn

"Invisible Cities by Giulio Einaudi"
- Vadin Kureatov

"Pride and Prejudice"
- Dr. Lisa Schwebel

"By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept"
- Simone Herbin

"If I had to pick one novel in particular, I think it would have to be The Wonderful Wizard of Oz."
- Christina Landy

"I think I'd want to be Jane Eyre or Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice, they're strong female characters and they end up happy in the end. And, I like to think of myself as a strong female and I'd like to find true love before I die."
- Amna Abdus-Salaam

"Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. Who wants to grow up?"
- Christine Bronner

"Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan, because it's a world in which things are changing for the positive."
- Professor David P. McKay

"Memoirs of a Geisha. It's a time where things are flipped, women had power. It was empowering. The culture was focused on art; the first snowflake, the running water. It's aesthetically pleasing. We live in a world that's so rushed we can't enjoy a loved ones touch. We're so detached, we don't embrace simple things."
- David Fraser

Greetings!

Welcome to the first blog of the 2007-2008 school year! We hope you had a restful, productive summer!

As many of us forge ahead with our academic and literary goals, we'd like to continue our ongoing dialogue with you, the reader. Please feel free to peruse our posts on poetry, news, and burning questions via our "Poem of the Week", "Boylan Briefs", and "At This Moment" segments. In addition to our regular entries, we have additional installments to the blog, including "Culture Corner" and "Currently Reading..."

So read up, expand your mind, and good luck with the fall semester!

Announcements

The BC Riverrun Club will be holding Elections on this Tuesday, September 11 in 3416 Boylan Hall at 1:30. The Riverrun Club is responsible for the annual English Major's 'Zine. Those interested in assisting in the 'Zine's production should definitely attend the elections.

Culture Corner

Once upon a time an Englishman, named Captain John Fearn, passing through the South Pacific Ocean saw an island in the distance and made the fateful decision to stop and explore. No more than eight square miles in size, the island was so lovely with its dense coastal ring of coconut trees, blue water and friendly natives, that Fern called it “Pleasant Island.”

That was 1798. Pleasant Island is now called Nauru and, although the natives still have the reputation of being friendly, their situation is far from pleasant. The story of tiny Nauru, one of the world’s smallest independent republics, is a tragic tale of imperialism at its worst. What once looked like an emerald dot (0.1 times the size of Washington D.C) in the vast blue of the enormous ocean now looks, from the air, “like a moth eaten fedora”(The Economist 2001).

The transition from tropical paradise to ecologically devastated island happened in the historical blink of an eye. When John Fearn landed, the island was home to twelve tribes (less than 1,500 inhabitants), all of whom spoke a language completely unique to the island and unlike any other in the South Pacific. The natives lived in grass-roofed huts on stilts along the fertile land and beaches that ring the coast of the little island, eating coconuts, pandanu fruit and fish, which they caught in canoes or by using tamed frigate birds (similar to huge seagulls). They believed that two spirits had created the island and were represented by natural pillars of rock (which have since been destroyed due to phosphate mining). Their existence was a bucolic one; islanders lived in relative harmony with nature and each other.

In 1878, the arrival of European guns and liquor divided the twelve tribes and sparked a ten-year period of intense internal warfare, in which the population went from 1,400 to 900. In 1888, Germany formally annexed the island and in 1900 the English discovered phosphate in the center of the island. Phosphate was the beginning of the end for Nauru. It is a mineral used mainly in farming and warfare, and it would prove to be a terrible curse on the island. During WWII the phosphate deposit made Nauru a prime target of Japan, which began its take over the day after Pearl Harbor and held it until the end of the war. The Japanese were brutal; 1,200 Nauruan were shipped off to labor camps and over half of them died there. For twenty years after the war, Nauru would exist as a trusteeship of the U.N., with foreign nations exploiting its resources left and right.

In 1968, Nauruan managed to buy out foreign stock in their national mining corporation, thereby gaining economic and political independence. The success of the mines (which employed the majority of islanders) momentarily gave the island the second highest per capita income in the whole world, just behind Saudi Arabia.
Phosphate deposits, unlike diamonds, aren’t forever. Due to a century of intense and irresponsible mining, the land has been completely stripped and this year the phosphate supply finally ran out. The implications of this cannot be overstated; the phosphate mines were the only source of income the island ever had and now they are completely gone. What was once tropical forest is now 90% barren wasteland in the middle of the South Pacific. Fourteen thousand people live there with potentially no way of economic survival. Everything, with the exception of water that is desalinated on the island, has to be imported, making the diet of the natives unhealthy and expensive. They have the highest rate of diabetes in the world. To make matters worse, the government of Nauru has mishandled the few assets the nation does hold. In an effort to increase on island banking, they decreased money regulation and made the island a safe haven for Russian money launderers. Nauru is in such debt that its finances are now being handled by Australia. At this point, their income is derived almost entirely from international refuges turned away from Australia, a controversial way to make money.

And yet, although things are dark both economically and environmentally for the people of Nauru, they have a deep sense of pride in their culture. Nauri is still spoken (even though English is used for business and government and there are other ethnic groups living on the island). Ten of the twelve original tribes still remain intact. Every Nauruan is identified at birth as a member of his mother’s clan and they continue to celebrate a holiday called Angam, which commemorates the various occasions when the island population grew over 1,500. The people of this island have lost a lot but they have not yet lost their sense of who they are. The future of Nauru is unclear, but hopefully they will somehow survive. Nauru should stand as an example of the crimes of imperialism past and an inspiration for responsible action in the international community.

Sources:
Big Tasks for a Small Island. BBC News, 30 April 1999.
CIA World Factbook: Country Profile https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/nr.html
Republic of Nauru Permanent Mission to the United Nations

“ Tiny Island in Big Trouble.” The Economist, December 21, 2001
Wikipedia.org. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nauru

Boylan Brief #71

Sharp Pain

A woman named Luo Cuifen went to a hospital in China complaining of blood in her urine when doctors discovered over two dozen needles embedded in her body. Doctors suspect that her grandparents implanted the needles when Luo was an infant because she was not male, but this cannot be proved because her grandparents are no longer living. The needles have penetrated her lungs, liver, kidney, and have punctured her brain as well. She is in desperate need of surgery, and will receive the first operation at no cost. She requires a series of complicated surgeries, and will raise money to cover the remaining costs.

- Emily Carman
Source: BBC News


The Crucible

In South Africa, two women were burned on a stake after their fellow community members charged them with witchcraft. Charges against the women arose after the students from Manhlenga High School started suffering from crying fits. The students held a meeting where the women were blamed for the laughing fits and ultimately, labeled as witches. Community members and the students took matters into their own hands by dragging 60 year old Msaba Zungu and Thabitha Thusi out of their homes to a sports field, where the torching occurred.

- Mohan Bell
News Source: BBC News

Obituary of an Opera Singer

Though Pavarotti should be celebrating Italy’s love for the portly tenor, he unfortunately passed away early in the morning of September 6, 2007. The beloved vocalist was born in Italy on October 12, 1935. The maestro began his studies in 1955 and had his professional debut in 1961. He played Rodolfo in La Boheme, which gained him critical acclaim. Like most in the music business, his big break came when his role model, Giuseppe Di Stefano, fell ill. Pavarotti was chosen to fill his position at the London Palladium. This performance was viewed by millions and he was signed to Decca after. Then, in 1966, he became the first to play Tonio in La Filled du Regiment to sing the nine high C’s of the first aria. In 1990 he became a household name with his friends Placedo Domingo and Jose Carreras, better known as The Three Tenors. In the 1990’s he went through a bitter divorce and despite the negative aspects of life, he found the time to start a benefit concert, Pavarotti and Friends. This concert included stars like Bono and the Mariah Carey. Over the years his weight became an issue and caused him to develop a pancreatic tumor. Eventually he developed pancreatic cancer. Though going through chemotherapy several times, the treatments, regrettably, did not work.

-Dominique Gauvard
News Source: BBC News

Poem of the Week

This week, Emily Carman shares with us a poem by Andrew Marvell.

Biography:
Andrew Marvell was a 17th Century English metaphysical poet who lived from 1621 to 1678. He was the son of a clergyman and schoolmaster, and received his education at Trinity College, Cambridge. He was a traveler, a tutor, an advocate for constitutional liberties, and an assistant to John Milton. Although some of his poetry was published during his lifetime, the majority of his work was published after his death in 1681. Oddly enough, his publisher was his housekeeper Mary Palmer, who was merely trying to claim that she was Marvell’s widow in order to collect money.



The first time I read Marvell’s “A Dialogue Between the Soul and Body” I was immediately taken with his clever use of metaphor in this poem. At a time when it was commonly believed that the soul and body coexisted in harmony, Marvell brilliantly envisioned a conflict between the two, each desperately seeking freedom from the other. Although his poetry is obviously religious in nature, I do not believe that you have to be spiritual in order to appreciate his talent.

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND BODY
By Andrew Marvell

Soul. O, WHO shall from this dungeon raise
A soul enslaved so many ways ?
With bolts of bones, that fettered stands
In feet, and manacled in hands ;
Here blinded with an eye, and there
Deaf with the drumming of an ear ;
A soul hung up, as 'twere, in chains
Of nerves, and arteries, and veins ;
Tortured, besides each other part,
In a vain head, and double heart ?

Body.
O, who shall me deliver whole,
From bonds of this tyrannic soul ?
Which, stretched upright, impales me so
That mine own precipice I go ;
And warms and moves this needless frame,
(A fever could but do the same),
And, wanting where its spite to try,
Has made me live to let me die
A body that could never rest,
Since this ill spirit it possessed.

Soul.
What magic could me thus confine
Within another's grief to pine ?
Where, whatsoever it complain,
I feel, that cannot feel, the pain ;
And all my care itself employs,
That to preserve which me destroys ;
Constrained not only to endure
Diseases, but, what's worse, the cure ;
And, ready oft the port to gain,
Am shipwrecked into health again.

Body.
But Physic yet could never reach
The maladies thou me dost teach ;
Whom first the cramp of hope does tear,
And then the palsy shakes of fear ;
The pestilence of love does heat,
Or hatred's hidden ulcer eat ;
Joy's cheerful madness does perplex,
Or sorrow's other madness vex ;
Which knowledge forces me to know,
And memory will not forego ;
What but a soul could have the wit
To build me up for sin so fit ?
So architects do square and hew
Green trees that in the forest grew.

At This Moment

This week, Maria Rubio and Krishna Sury asked BC Students the following question:

"Wages aside, what profession would you want, purely for the experience of that job?"

"School bus driver"
- Beatrice Koehler-Derrick

"It would have to be fighting against inhumanity. Fighting against things like sweatshops and human trafficking. Fighting against exploitations. Trying to create unions, decent living and working coditions for all workers, including immigrant guest workers. Workfare workers like the WEP workers and even prisoners and those doing community service. I would want a job fighting against oppression, exploitation, making sure the hungry are fed and so on and so forth. I don't have much experience in any job. However, aside from wages and benefits and anything that I get out of a job I'd have to look at the moral obligations I have to other people. In any case, my main concern is to be able to support myslef. Especially, once I get the master's degree."
- Gabriel Engel

"Batman. Seriously? I'm planning on going into museum programming and direction because I really love art, and I love showing people new things about it. Museums' can be amazing places if they're run right, I'm hoping to be able to do some cool stuff in a few years. And in about 30 I'll make real money."
- Leah Golubchick

"Bounty Hunter. Astronaut. Detective. Marco Polo's occupation."
- Nicole Rios

"Honestly though, I'd love to get the experience of being a writer.

An accomplished writer sitting at a desk writing with a pen and a looseleaf notebook because I'd love the organic feel of creation rather than the impersonal work of the computer. I'd dream worlds beyond recognition and then tame them to the limits of what readers would deem acceptable."
- Felix Colon

"Being a professional sports analyst."
- Erick Blasco

"A professional singer. There's something about creating and performing your own music for the masses that's appealing. The freedom of expression, beautiful melodies, and the power to convey that whenever and however I choose is an amazing oppurtunity I would love to have."
- Dominique Gauvard

"A Communications Executive for the NFL's Giants or MLB's Yankees
A U.S. Diplomat in China, HK, Singapore or Taiwan
A English Professor Teaching English in China, HK, Singapore or Taiwan
A Stand Up Comedian
A Late Night TV Host,
A Rock Star
A Vagina Warrior or
The Columnist of This Girl's Life in the BC Kingsman ;-)"
- Ezra Rich

"Assassin. Purely for the experience of seeing how eliminating certain people on this planet would improve the planet. How could I possibly assassinate anyone though!? I'd have to make it all seem like self-defense. But what about my conscious, my karma or the perpetuation of the vicious cycle!?

"Educator. I'd love to be able to teach anybody willing to learn. If enough people had enough information, oh what a world it would be...instead of assassinating the bad-intentioned they would be neutralized because there wouldn't be enough ignorant people to be fooled by them."
- Javier Genao

"Believe it or not, I would still want to be a doctor. If I was going into medicine for the sake of money, I would have to look really hard at my motives and see if they were still right. With all the stress and difficulty in medicine as a field, you need another sense of reward beyond your pay check every other week"
- Gregory Perrin

"Gigollo."
- Jesse Atwood

"i want to be a columnist in a publication well circulated amongst people ages like... 13-25, realistically pointing out problems in society regarding education/sex/home/etc, and listing obtainable suggestions to help.. places where they can find shit based on readership Q&A, suggest adult dyslexia courses (or ask people to explore themselves for the possibility of dyslexia, seeing that a lot of minority populations are semi-illiterate and go through life thinking they're stupid when they're not [thanks leah], etc). Or I want society to be able to see problems from the root up, so that they know what to fix or where to begin, shit like that. spoken in real language. quelling myths that cause people to have less faith in themselves -- maybe college ISNT that expensive, etc etc etc."
- Jessica Song

"a pilot, a scholar of all the world's religions,a musician, a singer, a basketball player(although I probabaly would need a little bit of magic as well as money to make this last one come true)...hells I wanna be a badass doctor!!! If money is not the issue then I would probabaly wanna do doctors without borders for life. that sounds pretty cool today. Ask me tommorow...."
- Alinea Noronha