Okay, I've taken two Facebook quizzes this morning and find myself having difficulty in stopping. Oh dear. Please don't let me degenerate into one of those Facebook users who posts "When will you get married?", and "What kind of a relationship do you have?" on my page...thus far, I have only endeavored to find out which Twilight character I am (Bella, oh dear - stop me if I complain of an unhealable hole in my chest), which "bitch" I am (Sinead O'Connor. Probably the most flattering of the selection available, and the most accurate heritage-wise :p At least it wasn't Sylvia Plath), which Harry Potter character I am (I'm not even going to bother telling you that one. If you don't know, then you've gotten really bored and stumbled across a stranger's blog), what my dream job is (luckily, a teacher) and most recently, which stereotype I fit. Art Freak/Hipster was the concurrent response. Does that make me most like Jane from Daria? I always thought I was Daria. Is there a quiz to find this out? Argh! :p
Why am I doing these quizzes?! Extreme boredom, sadly, is not the answer. I have plenty of things to do today. I have merely opted instead to use my last day off this week to uncover deeply held truths about myself via Facebook. But looking through Facebook this week, I've noticed a few groups and things to become a fan of have popped up with intruiging specificity.
You can become a fan of Singing in the Car (for me, it'd be rapping to ridiculous Eminem songs in the car with my overly enthusiastic boyfriend, generally wearing his gangsta beanie at the time), Hot Showers, Massages, and "I Hate Stupid Stuck Up Bitches", a popular choice among many of my State High friends; our history as the "pretend private school" has led, for many of we alumni, to a predjudice against what Facebook so eloquently calls "stuck up bitches". However, I have refrained from joining that particular group, as I don't particularly want it on my page. However, I have participated in several anti-bad customer groups. My particular favourite is "I have worked in retail and thus have lost all faith in humanity". Perhaps a little overexaggerated, but you still get the general idea.
The cultural anthropologist would have a field day with the latest that has appeared online. What does it say about you if you take ten quizzes about your high school status ("How cool were you at school?", "Are you a Queen Bee?")? How about ten quizzes about various features of your body ("What is your sexiest feature?", "What does the opposite sex notice first about you?") ? Not to mention all the "When will you get married?" and "Is he your soulmate?" quizzes which you never see the boys do... Facebook garners more than 200 million users per day. How many of those users have not joined a group, become a fan of something, or taken a quiz? Facebook is the most successful procrastination tool in the world. ;)
I rank Wikipedia as a very close second, however. I've just learned from it that Facebook has its origins at Harvard University. Funny then, how the world's most prestigious university has played such a crucial role in the development of what is potentially the most damaging website to university performance...
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
The Secret History (Review)
The Secret History
Donna Tartt
The Secret History is about campus life, the power and cost of the intellect, the treasures and dangers left to us from archaic times, friendship, adolescence and murder. Underpinning the entire book is the concept of cost; to society, to the world, more spiritually, and to oneself. It is an ambitious read, but to be honest, I’ve read it six or seven times, and also have studied ancient Rome and Greece for two years, and am only beginning to feel like I’m skimming the surface of what this book means.
Richard Papen is a Californian-born student who has elected to study at Hampden College, an isolated and small university in Vermont, because its very nature appeals to him. Once he arrives, Richard learns of the existence of a small, hand-selected class whose intensive studies of the classics have isolated them from the rest of the insulated campus life. After some difficulty, he is granted permission to join the class, and as he gets to know his fellow students a little better, it becomes apparent that their devotion to the classic teachings is more than ardent. His class members are a close-knit group; Charles and Camilla, fraternal twins, are orphans. Charles is entirely dependent on two things; Camilla and alcohol. Camilla, one of only a handful of girls in the entire novel, is understatedly enigmatic. Francis, a “trust fund baby”, is stylish, shrewd, gay, and incredibly rich. Henry is prodigious; an apparent genius, he reads in many ancient languages, slips into Latin speech without noticing, and is the embodiment of the archaic values of Rome and Greece. Central to the novel, in my humble opinion, however, is Bunny Corcoran. It’s difficult to describe his character in a sentence, for it is Bunny whose character resonates throughout the entire book. He is an outdated, American “old-boy”, who lives what appears to be the high life, but in fact simply uses others. He is irritating, seemingly stupid, and does not have the riches of the others. When the classics students, prior to Richard’s joining them, undertake a Bacchanal, Bunny is excluded from the proceedings for his lack of understanding and failure to take it seriously enough. The Bacchanalia involves ritualistic loss of oneself to divine ecstasy, a concept not fully experienced since ancient times; so, the successful completion of the Bacchanalia by the group of college students is a remarkable occurrence. However, during the course of their orgiastic ritual, the students mutilate, and kill a local Vermont man. The real trouble starts for them when the obnoxious, irritating Bunny uncovers this piece of information, and, affronted for his exclusion, begins to use it to his advantage.
The remarkable thing about this novel is that the murders – there are two, the farmer’s, and Bunny’s consequential one – are not the centre of the plot. Instead, the character’s reactions to the events of their own doing and Bunny’s are explored in grotesque, disturbing detail. Henry’s frighteningly cold and clinical deconstruction of the “options” the group is faced with to deal with Bunny’s blackmail and paranoia are deeply unsettling and upsetting. Richard’s self-inclusion in Bunny’s actual murder, despite not having participated in the first one, is a shocking example of the lengths young people may go to in order to fit in with an admired group. The revelation of the true nature of the relationship of twins Charles and Camilla – which, if you know anything about Greek history, will certainly not surprise you – reflects the level to which the group are disturbed.
The novel alludes to the social order of the ancient Greek world; the students are depicted as being fallen aristocrats, and the informed reader wonders if this is one justification for their actions. Interestingly, there is not a single redeeming feature of any of the characters in this novel. This is an ambitious ploy on the author’s part, as often books with unlikeable narrators are difficult to read. Do you agree?
But this is no excuse. Nothing can justify the actions of the students in The Secret History. My mother likened this book to watching a car crash in slow motion. You know it can’t end well, but you’re compelled to pay attention to see what the end result is. Something like a Chuck P book, but without the gratuitous gore (sorry, Chuck). After reading this book, I generally feel quite disgusted; it’s written in the style of a traditional Greek tragedy, which unfolds before your eyes at such a rate that you cannot register its effects until it’s entirely over.
Thankfully, The Secret History is now readily available as an orange-covered Popular Penguin. Now only ten dollars! When I first decided to read it, it was very hard to find, so I’m glad to be able to recommend it so easily now.
Enjoy...or perhaps don’t. ;)
Donna Tartt
The Secret History is about campus life, the power and cost of the intellect, the treasures and dangers left to us from archaic times, friendship, adolescence and murder. Underpinning the entire book is the concept of cost; to society, to the world, more spiritually, and to oneself. It is an ambitious read, but to be honest, I’ve read it six or seven times, and also have studied ancient Rome and Greece for two years, and am only beginning to feel like I’m skimming the surface of what this book means.
Richard Papen is a Californian-born student who has elected to study at Hampden College, an isolated and small university in Vermont, because its very nature appeals to him. Once he arrives, Richard learns of the existence of a small, hand-selected class whose intensive studies of the classics have isolated them from the rest of the insulated campus life. After some difficulty, he is granted permission to join the class, and as he gets to know his fellow students a little better, it becomes apparent that their devotion to the classic teachings is more than ardent. His class members are a close-knit group; Charles and Camilla, fraternal twins, are orphans. Charles is entirely dependent on two things; Camilla and alcohol. Camilla, one of only a handful of girls in the entire novel, is understatedly enigmatic. Francis, a “trust fund baby”, is stylish, shrewd, gay, and incredibly rich. Henry is prodigious; an apparent genius, he reads in many ancient languages, slips into Latin speech without noticing, and is the embodiment of the archaic values of Rome and Greece. Central to the novel, in my humble opinion, however, is Bunny Corcoran. It’s difficult to describe his character in a sentence, for it is Bunny whose character resonates throughout the entire book. He is an outdated, American “old-boy”, who lives what appears to be the high life, but in fact simply uses others. He is irritating, seemingly stupid, and does not have the riches of the others. When the classics students, prior to Richard’s joining them, undertake a Bacchanal, Bunny is excluded from the proceedings for his lack of understanding and failure to take it seriously enough. The Bacchanalia involves ritualistic loss of oneself to divine ecstasy, a concept not fully experienced since ancient times; so, the successful completion of the Bacchanalia by the group of college students is a remarkable occurrence. However, during the course of their orgiastic ritual, the students mutilate, and kill a local Vermont man. The real trouble starts for them when the obnoxious, irritating Bunny uncovers this piece of information, and, affronted for his exclusion, begins to use it to his advantage.
The remarkable thing about this novel is that the murders – there are two, the farmer’s, and Bunny’s consequential one – are not the centre of the plot. Instead, the character’s reactions to the events of their own doing and Bunny’s are explored in grotesque, disturbing detail. Henry’s frighteningly cold and clinical deconstruction of the “options” the group is faced with to deal with Bunny’s blackmail and paranoia are deeply unsettling and upsetting. Richard’s self-inclusion in Bunny’s actual murder, despite not having participated in the first one, is a shocking example of the lengths young people may go to in order to fit in with an admired group. The revelation of the true nature of the relationship of twins Charles and Camilla – which, if you know anything about Greek history, will certainly not surprise you – reflects the level to which the group are disturbed.
The novel alludes to the social order of the ancient Greek world; the students are depicted as being fallen aristocrats, and the informed reader wonders if this is one justification for their actions. Interestingly, there is not a single redeeming feature of any of the characters in this novel. This is an ambitious ploy on the author’s part, as often books with unlikeable narrators are difficult to read. Do you agree?
But this is no excuse. Nothing can justify the actions of the students in The Secret History. My mother likened this book to watching a car crash in slow motion. You know it can’t end well, but you’re compelled to pay attention to see what the end result is. Something like a Chuck P book, but without the gratuitous gore (sorry, Chuck). After reading this book, I generally feel quite disgusted; it’s written in the style of a traditional Greek tragedy, which unfolds before your eyes at such a rate that you cannot register its effects until it’s entirely over.
Thankfully, The Secret History is now readily available as an orange-covered Popular Penguin. Now only ten dollars! When I first decided to read it, it was very hard to find, so I’m glad to be able to recommend it so easily now.
Enjoy...or perhaps don’t. ;)
I'm enjoying my holidays so far, helped by the fact that again, I'm reading "The Secret History", my favourite book in the world. However, the harrowing, disturbing storyline was not aiding in my relaxation; this is one of two books (the other being Silence of the Lambs) which never fails to give me nightmares. I wake up thinking I killed Bunny Corcoran, without fail, every single time I read it. But that's just another reason the book's so fantastic! Although it's frightening that murder is so apparently easy...
Big week at work this week; my manager's taking a well-deserved holiday and I'm acting manager. So far, no big dramas, so let's hope that keeps up...our staff are fantastic, this is one of the best jobs I've had so far, so I'm looking forward to saving up a little more for our Europe Trip. Which, naturally, deserves capitalisation.
So, it's official. We're Going To Europe. Well, no plane tickets have been booked as yet, but my savings since I started at Famous Footwear have grown considerably, and I'm so encouraged by that that Szilveszter and I are thinking and planning (informally) our trip! Szilveszter, of course, thinks that the whole point of going to Europe is to re-enact the plot of the movie Eurotrip, and also to visit Sparta and announce to everyone (can you guess?) that this is, in fact, Sparta, and therefore that we are, in fact, tourists. He's a goober, but I love him, and I can't think of anyone else I'd like to experience the world with. Of course, it'd all be made even better if Jess comes for part of it too!
We have accomodation in England (London and its outskirts), Ireland (Dublin and Kildare, in the country) and Hungary (thanks to Szilveszter's family ties) already, so those are definite stops on the trip. I desparately want to see Rome, Tuscany and Athens; a classics degree will do that to you. Since I've attempted to teach myself Hungarian - and I've been more successful than I thought I would be, thank you very much (kichi - small. Wow. I'm pro.) - I'm excited to see Budapest's ancient sites and elaborate and intricate buildings, as well as where Szilveszter's from.
I've never actually been to either London or Dublin, directly where my parents are from, so I can't wait to get there either. Both cities will be fantastic.
So, in anticipation, I bought a Lonely Planet guide today with a birthday Borders voucher from Gracie and Jason, thanks so much guys. :) Europe on a Shoestring. I'm so excited to sit down with a cup of tea later on and have a browse, if not an intensive read, of it! It's my first one, and I can already see that I'll be getting more in future; definitely a London, Dublin and Hungary one at the very least. Oh Borders. Could you pay your rent if I wasn't a customer? :p I kid, I kid.
I know that a lot of people around us are saving for houses, or attempting to. But I really want to see these places, and experience some of the things I've learned so much about in the last eighteen months at uni. Szilveszter and I aren't sure of our postings and things like that, so when he's a police officer and I'm a teacher, we may get posted rurally (although I'm not sure I want that) when we are qualified, so buying a house might actually be a while down the track. I know Szilveszter wants to see Hungary again, and given his intense admiration of Eurotrip, he's always wanted this too. :p Haha. Well, updates again soon, I'm thinking of posting a review again quite soon.
Currently reading: Lonely Planet's Europe on a Shoestring, Donna Tartt's The Secret History, and Claudia Gray's Evernight, which is slowly developing into another addiction for me...
Hm, just discovered bleached-in, cat-shaped footprints on my slippers. Looks like Murray fell into Mum's bleach again and walked on my shoes...sorta looks cool though. :p Oh Muzz. What next.
Big week at work this week; my manager's taking a well-deserved holiday and I'm acting manager. So far, no big dramas, so let's hope that keeps up...our staff are fantastic, this is one of the best jobs I've had so far, so I'm looking forward to saving up a little more for our Europe Trip. Which, naturally, deserves capitalisation.
So, it's official. We're Going To Europe. Well, no plane tickets have been booked as yet, but my savings since I started at Famous Footwear have grown considerably, and I'm so encouraged by that that Szilveszter and I are thinking and planning (informally) our trip! Szilveszter, of course, thinks that the whole point of going to Europe is to re-enact the plot of the movie Eurotrip, and also to visit Sparta and announce to everyone (can you guess?) that this is, in fact, Sparta, and therefore that we are, in fact, tourists. He's a goober, but I love him, and I can't think of anyone else I'd like to experience the world with. Of course, it'd all be made even better if Jess comes for part of it too!
We have accomodation in England (London and its outskirts), Ireland (Dublin and Kildare, in the country) and Hungary (thanks to Szilveszter's family ties) already, so those are definite stops on the trip. I desparately want to see Rome, Tuscany and Athens; a classics degree will do that to you. Since I've attempted to teach myself Hungarian - and I've been more successful than I thought I would be, thank you very much (kichi - small. Wow. I'm pro.) - I'm excited to see Budapest's ancient sites and elaborate and intricate buildings, as well as where Szilveszter's from.
I've never actually been to either London or Dublin, directly where my parents are from, so I can't wait to get there either. Both cities will be fantastic.
So, in anticipation, I bought a Lonely Planet guide today with a birthday Borders voucher from Gracie and Jason, thanks so much guys. :) Europe on a Shoestring. I'm so excited to sit down with a cup of tea later on and have a browse, if not an intensive read, of it! It's my first one, and I can already see that I'll be getting more in future; definitely a London, Dublin and Hungary one at the very least. Oh Borders. Could you pay your rent if I wasn't a customer? :p I kid, I kid.
I know that a lot of people around us are saving for houses, or attempting to. But I really want to see these places, and experience some of the things I've learned so much about in the last eighteen months at uni. Szilveszter and I aren't sure of our postings and things like that, so when he's a police officer and I'm a teacher, we may get posted rurally (although I'm not sure I want that) when we are qualified, so buying a house might actually be a while down the track. I know Szilveszter wants to see Hungary again, and given his intense admiration of Eurotrip, he's always wanted this too. :p Haha. Well, updates again soon, I'm thinking of posting a review again quite soon.
Currently reading: Lonely Planet's Europe on a Shoestring, Donna Tartt's The Secret History, and Claudia Gray's Evernight, which is slowly developing into another addiction for me...
Hm, just discovered bleached-in, cat-shaped footprints on my slippers. Looks like Murray fell into Mum's bleach again and walked on my shoes...sorta looks cool though. :p Oh Muzz. What next.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Finally, the semester is over for me. I sympathise with those students still battling through their final exams, and I'm glad that I only had two, and that they were scheduled early. Thankfully, and surprisingly, my first exam went quite well. It was History of Germany, Bismarck to Hilter (a topic to be waded through, if ever there was one...), and, happily, I think I might have done rather well. My second exam I was more stressed about. It was a mulitiple choice, and it was at 8am last Wednesday. I was studying for it all night and I reached the Homer Simpson-esque stage where nothing was remaining in my head and each piece of new information pushed the old out. So I decided to go to bed at about 10.00pm in the hopes that I'd wake fresh the next day. Sadly, that was not to be the case, as a social problem (for lack of better descriptive words?) kept me up until 1.30am. I was stressed, upset and exhausted, and so naturally couldn't fall asleep easily. So I think I had about an hour of sleep before my second exam, and I was sick, stressed and tired. But I think I did okay in the end. I'm just not one of those people who can study into the small hours; I find I have more ability and strength in an exam if I just get enough sleep the night before, lazy as that may in fact sound.
After my exam, though, I caught up with a few friends, and felt much better. It's funny how one sentence uttered in a malevolent context can entirely shake up your beliefs about yourself. It took the assurance of several to bring me back to the state I'd been in before the exam (which wasn't even a very stable one, anyway).
The other thing this all had me considering was the way in which non-students sometimes seem to have difficulty understanding exactly what exam time means. It's difficult to tell someone who doesn't study exactly what they're interrupting without sounding as though you're talking down to them with your academia, and your university and your general attitude of I-know-better-than-you, but the reality is this; your success or failure at a subject, something you've been working away at for the past six months, is quite often all dependant on the two hours you spend seated in a large hall, silent except for the fervenet scratching of pens on paper, ekeing out any and every piece of information relevant to what's written on the page in front of you. It seems silly to talk about the pressure, but it seems to me that it's something that's difficult to understand unless you've been there. ANY exam is difficult. Grade ten, or university level, or driver's test, or assessment times at work.
I really just wish that people would just think for a moment about what you might be trying to accomplish or achieve, whether it's the memorisation of the plot, characters and literary devices of a novel or simply eight hours sleep, before an exam before they go right on ahead and divert your attention to something much less important.
But at last, relief is here for me! I'm finished. Thank goodness. To wake up on a day when I'm not working and wait for the onslaught of things to do today to come - and then find that it doesn't - is the greatest relief! Hope everyone else enjoys their holidays as much as I am thus far!
claire.x.
After my exam, though, I caught up with a few friends, and felt much better. It's funny how one sentence uttered in a malevolent context can entirely shake up your beliefs about yourself. It took the assurance of several to bring me back to the state I'd been in before the exam (which wasn't even a very stable one, anyway).
The other thing this all had me considering was the way in which non-students sometimes seem to have difficulty understanding exactly what exam time means. It's difficult to tell someone who doesn't study exactly what they're interrupting without sounding as though you're talking down to them with your academia, and your university and your general attitude of I-know-better-than-you, but the reality is this; your success or failure at a subject, something you've been working away at for the past six months, is quite often all dependant on the two hours you spend seated in a large hall, silent except for the fervenet scratching of pens on paper, ekeing out any and every piece of information relevant to what's written on the page in front of you. It seems silly to talk about the pressure, but it seems to me that it's something that's difficult to understand unless you've been there. ANY exam is difficult. Grade ten, or university level, or driver's test, or assessment times at work.
I really just wish that people would just think for a moment about what you might be trying to accomplish or achieve, whether it's the memorisation of the plot, characters and literary devices of a novel or simply eight hours sleep, before an exam before they go right on ahead and divert your attention to something much less important.
But at last, relief is here for me! I'm finished. Thank goodness. To wake up on a day when I'm not working and wait for the onslaught of things to do today to come - and then find that it doesn't - is the greatest relief! Hope everyone else enjoys their holidays as much as I am thus far!
claire.x.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Invisible Monsters, by Chuck Palanhiuk.
This book is definitely not for the faint-hearted. In fact, I wouldn't even attempt it unless you're already schooled in the disturbia associated with Palanhiuk. Personally, I was enamoured with Fight Club from a very young age, and every time I read it, I understood it in a different way, existential nihilism and all. However, this did not prepare me for Invisible Monsters and its force.
Invisible Monsters centres on Shannon McFarland, a one-time supermodel whose life is churned over when an accidental gunshot leaves her without a jaw. From hereon in, Shannon acclimatises to life as a self-proclaimed monster, invisible to others who refuse to acknowledge her presence.
The juxtaposition between Shannon's former life as a model restricted by her beauty and her current, and future one, as someone disfigured and unable to talk, is an extreme one. Welcome the entrance of the novel's secondary lead, Brandy Alexander, a transexual one operation away from a complete transformation. Brandy coaches Shannon in her reinvention, and teaches her not to move from the past, but to live each day only for the secods as they fly past.
The novel ends with a shocking conclusion, wherein unexpected identities are uncovered, and revenge is enacted in hideous ways undeserving of the original crime.
I think that the confronting aspect of this novel is that Palanhiuk is entirely unsympathetic toward Shannon's disfigurement. While this is, in a way, justified by the concluding revelations (and there are a lot of them), it still makes the novel feel somewhat wrong. Shannon herself, the narrator, takes a tongue-in-non-existent cheek view of her disfigurement, which is, at first, difficult to read.
...if this review is complicated, and all over the place, it's because the book itself is, also. I reccommend it to you if you're acquainted with the "transgressional horror" which Palanhiuk has developed in style, but if you aren't, be prepared for a horrifyingly confrontational read.
Invisible Monsters centres on Shannon McFarland, a one-time supermodel whose life is churned over when an accidental gunshot leaves her without a jaw. From hereon in, Shannon acclimatises to life as a self-proclaimed monster, invisible to others who refuse to acknowledge her presence.
The juxtaposition between Shannon's former life as a model restricted by her beauty and her current, and future one, as someone disfigured and unable to talk, is an extreme one. Welcome the entrance of the novel's secondary lead, Brandy Alexander, a transexual one operation away from a complete transformation. Brandy coaches Shannon in her reinvention, and teaches her not to move from the past, but to live each day only for the secods as they fly past.
The novel ends with a shocking conclusion, wherein unexpected identities are uncovered, and revenge is enacted in hideous ways undeserving of the original crime.
I think that the confronting aspect of this novel is that Palanhiuk is entirely unsympathetic toward Shannon's disfigurement. While this is, in a way, justified by the concluding revelations (and there are a lot of them), it still makes the novel feel somewhat wrong. Shannon herself, the narrator, takes a tongue-in-non-existent cheek view of her disfigurement, which is, at first, difficult to read.
...if this review is complicated, and all over the place, it's because the book itself is, also. I reccommend it to you if you're acquainted with the "transgressional horror" which Palanhiuk has developed in style, but if you aren't, be prepared for a horrifyingly confrontational read.
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