Monthly Archives: November 2013

What to name this post?

Today in lecture we talked about Aphra Behn’s various names and what they might mean, which led me to ponder on the subject of naming.

I love studying the names of literary characters because names authors choose are often relevant to the role a character plays in the work. A few examples of these from this semester’s selections would be the names Adam (from earth), Caliban (anagram for cannibal), Miranda (wondrous) and possibly Gulliver which sounds like “gullible”.

As an aspiring writer, I love naming characters for my stories (finding names for locations and titles are much more frustrating and annoying though). I often spend way too much time looking up names in baby books and on the internet. But I never feel like picking the perfect name is a waste of time because to me it is a meaningful task. I wonder how many readers actually search up the origins of names to see if they reveal a trait about the characters.

In reality names are very interesting too. For example, when I look at a picture of a stranger, sometimes, for an inexplicable reason I will just feel like she is an “Eleanor” or a “Jennifer” etc etc. and I know I am not the only one who says “she looks like a [insert name]” since many of my friends act the same way. I think that part of the reason why this phenomenon occurs is because certain names have been associated with certain images throughout the years. The name “Jane” and its connotation as a plain name is probably the most well-known example of this tendency, having been started by the Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre (I love this book). Since we have been discussing the idea of canonization, I want to note that in a way many names have been canonized by literature. It will be interesting to see if Katniss and Peeta will become familiar names in the years to follow.

Confusion @_@

While reading The Tempest, the character of Prospero confused me to no end. I just didn’t know what to make of him. He is disillusioned about his right to rule, a puppeteer who treats his slaves horribly, but yet has this wonderful “art” (at least wonderful to me) that can enchant and mesmerize, creating spectacular shows for his audience.

I personally love the idea of Prospero as a representation of Shakespeare, especially considering the epilogue he gives, bidding his long-time audience farewell. However, if the playwright really intended to write himself into this character, how then are we supposed to interpret Prospero’s self-centered demeanor and actions throughout the play? Like the introduction found in our Oxford editions of the play notes, The Tempest has “…been used to support radically differing claims about Shakespeare’s allegiances” (pg.11).

Ambiguity certainly is a defining trait of this play, causing confusion and mayhem not only for the characters but for the audience as well. In that aspect I am reminded of Midsummer Night’s Dream (which is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays) where the characters get in huge mix-ups. However, at that play’s conclusion everything is resolved whereas in The Tempest I am left with questions such as what happened to Caliban and does Prospero really give up his art?

I feel like this is one of those literary works that can be viewed a hundred times from different perspectives but still have some nugget of thought hidden in it. I wonder if I will ever be able to see Prospero and his story in a definitive way in the future.

An Epiphany Thanks to Beowulf (that I kind of forgot about until now…)

I actually wrote this post at the end of September but it just sat in a rather lonely folder on my desktop screen because I never got around to making the actual blog. But here it is. FINALLY. So behold, the musing of a two month younger Grace.

An idea that came up in lecture the past few days really resonated with me, the idea of impatience while reading. When I first read Beowulf during first-year, I remember not loving it at all because the plot dragged too much and I didn’t find the fights/quests very interesting. I never once considered the text as having a slow pace on purpose to emphasize the importance of speech on equal terms with (or perhaps even more than) action.

Our recent discussions on the way how the Geat’s society centers on not just masculine feats of strength but also on community bonding through tales has changed my opinion of this text for the better. As Beowulf demonstrates, words have a binding power. The action seems to take a supporting role here, its purpose being to exist so that there is something to “tell” about. Words become what are inherited. Take the swords that are passed down for example, they are only significant in correlation with their stories. Being a firm believer in the necessity of literature and language in the world, I cannot help but appreciate the ideas presented in this text.

I think that I am a reader who unfortunately has been influenced by the 21st century to read quickly, without properly digesting the material that is streaming into my head, which is why I underestimated Beowulf’s merit. One would think that after studying literature for all my high school years and devouring countless books I would have already learned to be an attentive reader. My recent epiphany (I really do think I had a light bulb moment during class when this came up) just shows how much more my brain needs to work.

(From the present Grace: I definitely still need to work on this attentive reading thing. Maybe it was good that I posted this late because it just reminded me of this epiphany.)