Life of Pi (pages 1-30)

So, I greatly enjoyed "Cloud Atlas" so far, but the other day I came upon "Life of Pi" and remembered how I've always wanted to read it. I put Cloud Atlas on hold and have decided to read this instead, nontheless. So far it's very insightful. The introduction is basically the author telling the reader how he has had some trouble writing for a while and went to India for inspiration. Just as he was about to give up, he tells, he meets a man in a Pondicherry cafe who tells him he has a story that will make hiim believe in god. Skeptical, Yann, the author of the book, invites the man to continue. Apparently, Yann is gripped by the true story and immediately seeks out Piscine Molitor Patel, the main character of the story and transcribes his telling of the tale into what becomes the actual book. The story thus far is an autobiography of Piscine "Pi" Patel, who is now telling stories of growing up in India. What really got me interested is how he talked about zoos and the animals living in them. Though I still don't believe animals should be kept in zoos, his thoughts have made zoos seem less evil to me. They aren't horrible places, zoos. I love animals enough that going and seeing them in person helps reassure me that not all captive to humans are being tortured or eaten. Many do understand the necessary compassion we should have for them, and in turn provide food and shelter for them in return for their presence. I've kept reciting the lyrics of "Animals" by Cocorosie in my head these past few weeks. I recommend it.

Action List 3.22.11

1000 Awesome Things: This site is really cool! How fun it would be to create a list of similar situations in life. The first one to catch my eye was "Opening a new can of Tennis Balls and smelling them." aaaahhhhhhhh that's a great moment. "When all the Blood rushes to your foot after it was asleep" is another awesome one. I want to write a song about that feeling.

Favorite Daily Poem so far: I think, if I had to choose one, that "Those Winter Sunday's" is one of my favorite poems we've had this semester. I think it invokes more senses than others do upon reading it. The "blueblack cold" gives me the image of the gray-blue light that comes through my bedroom window when I accidentally wake up at 4 or 5am before the sun rises. The part in which the dad makes a fire gives me the familiar sensation of sitting before the fireplace in early December with the heat on my face and a itchy blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Though the author seems to remember the mornings when he got up early for church, unlike any specific memories I have, I feel I can still easily relate.

Children's Book assesment

Most of the picture books made before the 1900's are pretty trippy, in my opinion. I wouldn't doubt that many kids back then were haunted by characters like 'Struwwelpeter' or that lady with the point chin. My favorite illustrations are by Arthur Rackham, 1867. My most memorable by far is "The Carrot Seed" by Ruth Krauss; I almost forgot about how my mom read it to me back in the day.

Cloud Atlas p. 1-44 (AKA my first post in forever)

Phew! OK, I'm sorry that I haven't been able to post anything in a while; I've been really busy with work and such. I'll be sure to make this one lengthy and detailed.

But anyway, the book I'm reading now is Called "Cloud Atlas" by David Mitchell, and so far, it's suuuuper interesting. From what Mr. Hill has told me, it seems to be a collection of six stories, all intertwined in some way and all from different viewpoints and styles of diction. The first story, or chapter I guess, is a series of entries in the 'Pacific Journal' of one Adam Ewing. Written in the early 1800's, this journal is Ewing's rosary of adventure, or maybe more like scribblings of his stressors. In his somewhat Cavalier accounts of living in South America, for reasons unknown, he uses a dialect I find strikingly obscure. For example, he says "His pidgin delivered his tale brokenly, so its substance only shall I endeavor to set down here."
Once you get used to his style, the journal is pretty gripping. When the journal ended with... "& morning watches so both starboard & port shifts might" (it cuts there and begins the next story of the book) I was kicked with a sense of confusion and even laughed a bit. The ending of Ewing's journal is one of those instances in a book that humors me and keeps me reading. I paused a bit after reading that and thought about why it might have stopped so abruptly. My favorite of my theories is that maybe the boat he was on hit a huge rock or a sandbar. Or maybe he was just axed in the back of the head in mid sentence. Take your pick. Heh, that reminds me of the mystery behind the "Fall Be Kind" album cover (seen here). My friend Miqueas and I spent like 10 minutes staring at it and trying to make something out. I think it's a super-close up of a dog's eye whose watching as his master is about to axed unknowingly. Strange, indeed.

3.1 diction thingy for "At north farm"

A) traveling, toward, you, goes, sky, speed, thing, has, piled.

B) Elevation: Medium, imminent.
Connotation: Poetic
Sound: More musical than harsh, almost sounds like an airplane flying at top speed low to the ground.
Concreteness: About in the middle.

C) I feel that John Ashbery, in his poem "At North Farm", is using routine and mellow diction to inform about the imminence of life. By this, I mean that one decision someone makes on the other side of the world can make its way here and affect you. His use of imagery in the second half of the poem describing the farm almost stings the reader's mind into a sanguine and accepting mood. The first half seals your own fate while the second helps you forget about it.