In The Cask of Amontillado, Allan Poe creates a character, Mostresor, using the narrator’s first-person point of view to shape the whole thriller. This is a story happening in a gloomy and clammy vault. The narrator designs a perfect and delicate murder with using the weakness of his friend, Fortunato, to revenge him. We could only enter the narrator’s psychological world, following his trick step by step and being trapped.
It began in a carnival season, people wearing amusing dresses and masks. However, beneath them, something evil has been planned. Fortunatos’ characteristic is shaped by the motely, innocent and straightforward. Such dress style is contrary to vindictive mind of Montresor’s own. The hilarious carnival season is opposite to the damp and eerie vault. There is and excellent point saying that the reader can interpret the coats of arms (human foot crushing serpent whose fangs are in heel) in different ways. He and his noble family are like the foot crushing a serpent that has bitten them, or on the other hand is he and family are actually like the serpent. Even though Allan Poe uses the narrator’s viewpoint to describe and judge the scenes he sees, in fact Allan Poe indicates the Montresor’s twisted mental, moral and emotional character in an indirect manner by his narration. It is clever that the writer actually stands behind the narrater’s words to judge the narrator secretly.
Besides, what makes me impressive is that even if we read Montresor’s mental world with his own point of view and perhaps the scenes we see cannot be trusted, we can still hear a series of sound effects vividly. There are only the sound effects in The Cask of Amontillado making readers believe it is objective from reality. I think in Allan Poe’s works, he is fond of murdering people by burying people. For instance, in The Black Cat, the narrator buries his wife’s body and one of black cats which is alive. Obviously, he really enjoyed it.
2010/6/20
Journal
When I read the author’s name, Amy Tan, in the bookstore, I felt so familiar but I could not remember where I had heard about this name. After reading the short biography of her before the story Two Kinds, I finally recalled the title, the “Joy Luck Club.” I was surprised that the movie is based on Two Kinds. Therefore, I could hardly wait for reading it.
The narrator, in the first line of the first paragraph, directly points out the American dream in her mother’s mind, like most of people’s in the world. Besides, she quotes what her mother said to her in Pidgin English. We can determine that the narrator actually is influenced by her mother all the time. She could not banish her mother’s sayings from her thoughts; thus, she was almost controlled by her mother in the childhood. Not only manners and behaviors, but her own ideas were conducted as well. However, the thought she, of course, could do her best, she just did not want to be dominated by parents. The more her mother pushed her, the more she refused. Perhaps the narrator is a prodigy, and yet her mother always used the wrong way to demand her. We can perceive it from the narration in the story that her mother was so offensive, sudden, overbearing to make the narrator learn the good things. It is pathetic that even though these demands, without a doubt, were good for her, because of such rude way, her mother made them extremely unworthy; moreover, she made those good intentions become a serious malice between them. I think the problem is attributed to the narrator’s mother. First of all, it is quite obvious that her mother did not just want her to be what she should be innately; on the contrary, her mother wanted her to be what her mother had wanted to be when young but in vain. We always think what our parents look forward to is make their children become their own dreams which did never come true when they were young. So we usually feel we live in our parents’ dreams, or concretely, under their shadows. They never ask if we would like to be like this, and they just create, form, shape a blueprint of dream to demand us to accept it, follow it, fulfill it. It is interesting that perhaps our grandparents wanted them to make the dream come true and they refused it when young, but now they feel regretful so that they ask us to atone. Or perhaps our parents had wanted to do something which our grandparents didn’t allow, so that their dream could not come true. And now they demand us to help them to complete their dreams and refuse what we want to do. Both conditions are endless vicious circles from generation to generation. If people are always selfish to their parents and children, we will never find a good way to get along well with each other. There will be hostility and unforgiveness between parents and children. After our parents dying, some day we finally realize it is just a misunderstanding and we will hate ourselves, feel remorse, but it will be too late to compensate such poor relationship. We always complain that nobody understands us, including our own parents, but do we really understand ourselves? Or probably we just want to escape the pressure from them. We barely even know what we will do in the future, how it is important to learn some skills in our childhood. In fact, the most significant thing is that parents should know how to make their kids interested in learning skills. They have to use the clever method to communicate with kids to make them understand the meanings when training them instead of using the tough tone of voice or imposing them.
The narrator describes the relationship between her mother and her with first-person point of view, so that we can spy on the world in her mind. She uses the humorous tone to describe such relationship in the first half of story. We can see she is naughty, childish, determined and rebellious. The narrator takes everything as if she is reading fairy tales. But after she finds her mother gives up the hope when the conflict happens, she gets so startled and sensitive. The fact is that we keep escaping the pressure that we know it is worthy, and after shaking off the stress, we will suddenly feel empty, guilty and no one cares about us. We finally realize we are given up, feeling awful. I think the story is full of dualities, such as American culture and Chinese spirit, the mother and the daughter, the demonstration and rebellion, love and indifference, feelings and behaviors and so forth. Especially, when I read the part of the mirror scene, I believe the narrator wants to present the contrary between the surface and her mind. She perhaps doesn’t really want to rebel in her mind, but what she does is very extreme. She has a conflict, which is the dilemma between piety and resistance, in her mind. Nevertheless, after growing up, she finally realizes that the two sides of opposition can be in harmony as “Pleading Child” and “Perfectly Contented,” which are two halves of the same music she play when young and innocent.
The narrator, in the first line of the first paragraph, directly points out the American dream in her mother’s mind, like most of people’s in the world. Besides, she quotes what her mother said to her in Pidgin English. We can determine that the narrator actually is influenced by her mother all the time. She could not banish her mother’s sayings from her thoughts; thus, she was almost controlled by her mother in the childhood. Not only manners and behaviors, but her own ideas were conducted as well. However, the thought she, of course, could do her best, she just did not want to be dominated by parents. The more her mother pushed her, the more she refused. Perhaps the narrator is a prodigy, and yet her mother always used the wrong way to demand her. We can perceive it from the narration in the story that her mother was so offensive, sudden, overbearing to make the narrator learn the good things. It is pathetic that even though these demands, without a doubt, were good for her, because of such rude way, her mother made them extremely unworthy; moreover, she made those good intentions become a serious malice between them. I think the problem is attributed to the narrator’s mother. First of all, it is quite obvious that her mother did not just want her to be what she should be innately; on the contrary, her mother wanted her to be what her mother had wanted to be when young but in vain. We always think what our parents look forward to is make their children become their own dreams which did never come true when they were young. So we usually feel we live in our parents’ dreams, or concretely, under their shadows. They never ask if we would like to be like this, and they just create, form, shape a blueprint of dream to demand us to accept it, follow it, fulfill it. It is interesting that perhaps our grandparents wanted them to make the dream come true and they refused it when young, but now they feel regretful so that they ask us to atone. Or perhaps our parents had wanted to do something which our grandparents didn’t allow, so that their dream could not come true. And now they demand us to help them to complete their dreams and refuse what we want to do. Both conditions are endless vicious circles from generation to generation. If people are always selfish to their parents and children, we will never find a good way to get along well with each other. There will be hostility and unforgiveness between parents and children. After our parents dying, some day we finally realize it is just a misunderstanding and we will hate ourselves, feel remorse, but it will be too late to compensate such poor relationship. We always complain that nobody understands us, including our own parents, but do we really understand ourselves? Or probably we just want to escape the pressure from them. We barely even know what we will do in the future, how it is important to learn some skills in our childhood. In fact, the most significant thing is that parents should know how to make their kids interested in learning skills. They have to use the clever method to communicate with kids to make them understand the meanings when training them instead of using the tough tone of voice or imposing them.
The narrator describes the relationship between her mother and her with first-person point of view, so that we can spy on the world in her mind. She uses the humorous tone to describe such relationship in the first half of story. We can see she is naughty, childish, determined and rebellious. The narrator takes everything as if she is reading fairy tales. But after she finds her mother gives up the hope when the conflict happens, she gets so startled and sensitive. The fact is that we keep escaping the pressure that we know it is worthy, and after shaking off the stress, we will suddenly feel empty, guilty and no one cares about us. We finally realize we are given up, feeling awful. I think the story is full of dualities, such as American culture and Chinese spirit, the mother and the daughter, the demonstration and rebellion, love and indifference, feelings and behaviors and so forth. Especially, when I read the part of the mirror scene, I believe the narrator wants to present the contrary between the surface and her mind. She perhaps doesn’t really want to rebel in her mind, but what she does is very extreme. She has a conflict, which is the dilemma between piety and resistance, in her mind. Nevertheless, after growing up, she finally realizes that the two sides of opposition can be in harmony as “Pleading Child” and “Perfectly Contented,” which are two halves of the same music she play when young and innocent.
Journal
This week I read a short novel called The Story of an Hour. The narrator reveals that Mrs. Mallard, the leading character in it, was afflicted with a heart trouble, so that the narrator has already hinted the orientation of this story cautiously. In the first paragraph, the narrator pointed out the fact of Mr. Mallard’s death. And then in the second paragraph, the narrator introduces the other main characters, Josephine and Richards, to make their identities and the reasons why they come on stage clear. After these two paragraphs, the narrator concentrates only upon Louise Mallard deliberately.
The narrator describes that Mrs. Mallard did not hear the story as many women have heard the same. On the contrary, she has an intense response, weeping at once, with sudden, wild abandonment. It seems that she has been strangled to death, and now someone’s hands loosen the neck to make her breathe fluently. She feels so relieved and delighted that she breaks into tears. However, Josephine and Richards in front of her don’t know what she is thinking; rather, they believe Mrs. Mallard is too grieved to put herself together. Mrs. Mallard, perhaps, wants to enjoy this rare moment alone, in secrete, so that she goes away to her room. Then, she begins to face her own consciousness. This part is the major idea of the story which the narrator tells. The narrator uses plenty of symbols to correspond with her feelings. For instance, the trees before the house were aquiver with the new spring life. The symbolic technique the narrator expressed Mrs. Mallard’s feelings with is brilliant, mordacious and felicitous. In this story, I think “air” and “window” are the motifs. Mrs. Mallard has had a suffocative life. She could not breathe the scent of freedom when living with her husband. Mrs. Mallard needs the air! She longs for the delicious breath of rain in the air as she was the leaf in the spring. She finally gets through the tedious and dreary winter. Before that she thought she was living in a confining chamber, like a jail without a window. But now, even though she becomes a widow, she gets a window to make her breathe and see the outside world. Mrs. Mallard, like a newborn baby, cannot wait for looking forward to the future filled with surprises and joys. Such vicissitude probably is her dream she has been waiting for her whole life to meet. She couldn’t keep pretending she is sorrowful anymore; thus, she unintentionally shows the bittersweet feelings on her face. Unfortunately, the happiness is like a zephyr. She cannot believe it’s a downright fraud that Mr. Mallard is totally safe and sound. The entire incident, obviously, is too much to her. Mrs. Mallard cannot stand it. It’s just like there are so many airs of joy and freedom coming to her, and suddenly all of them are brutally drawn off. If God takes the happiness, hope and blessing away from us, how can we live still? Such prank betrays Mrs. Mallard to her death.
The story is narrated by omniscient point of view, so the readers interpret Mrs. Mallard’s death is because of the attack of Mr. Mallard’s coming back to ruin her dream. But other characters in the story think that she is too joyful about her husband’s coming back to face the fact. It is tricky that the doctors said the joy that kill her. We know the fact is that her husband stops her joy so that she dies. And those characters believe that Mr. Mallard brings the joy to her but she couldn’t take it from previous miserable moment so that she dies. The author is wise to make the end ambiguous.
I like such sudden, unexpected and neat way to bring to a closure. It makes me recall the films in French New Wave. The filmmakers in that period preferred greater uses of symbolism and abstraction and dealt with themes of social alienation, psychology and sexual love. They loved to make a sudden climax and end the story, and they would leave an open ending to the audience to make them define it, continue it, or conclude it. Therefore, if Mrs. Mallard should live and tell her husband the truth, or she should live, keeping pretending she is fine like she did before. In my opinion, nothing is cleverer than the original one. If the author changed the end and kept writing the story, it would create an absurd anticlimax. It would ruin the whole story the author designs elaborately. Such French writing style could make readers taste again and again.If there would be anyone in Hollywood being considered for the role of Mrs. Louise Mallard. I think, based on Mrs. Mallard’s characteristics. Elizabeth Taylor in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” and Vivien Leigh in “Gone with the Wind” could be considered for this dramatic queen. If so, that would be fabulous!
The narrator describes that Mrs. Mallard did not hear the story as many women have heard the same. On the contrary, she has an intense response, weeping at once, with sudden, wild abandonment. It seems that she has been strangled to death, and now someone’s hands loosen the neck to make her breathe fluently. She feels so relieved and delighted that she breaks into tears. However, Josephine and Richards in front of her don’t know what she is thinking; rather, they believe Mrs. Mallard is too grieved to put herself together. Mrs. Mallard, perhaps, wants to enjoy this rare moment alone, in secrete, so that she goes away to her room. Then, she begins to face her own consciousness. This part is the major idea of the story which the narrator tells. The narrator uses plenty of symbols to correspond with her feelings. For instance, the trees before the house were aquiver with the new spring life. The symbolic technique the narrator expressed Mrs. Mallard’s feelings with is brilliant, mordacious and felicitous. In this story, I think “air” and “window” are the motifs. Mrs. Mallard has had a suffocative life. She could not breathe the scent of freedom when living with her husband. Mrs. Mallard needs the air! She longs for the delicious breath of rain in the air as she was the leaf in the spring. She finally gets through the tedious and dreary winter. Before that she thought she was living in a confining chamber, like a jail without a window. But now, even though she becomes a widow, she gets a window to make her breathe and see the outside world. Mrs. Mallard, like a newborn baby, cannot wait for looking forward to the future filled with surprises and joys. Such vicissitude probably is her dream she has been waiting for her whole life to meet. She couldn’t keep pretending she is sorrowful anymore; thus, she unintentionally shows the bittersweet feelings on her face. Unfortunately, the happiness is like a zephyr. She cannot believe it’s a downright fraud that Mr. Mallard is totally safe and sound. The entire incident, obviously, is too much to her. Mrs. Mallard cannot stand it. It’s just like there are so many airs of joy and freedom coming to her, and suddenly all of them are brutally drawn off. If God takes the happiness, hope and blessing away from us, how can we live still? Such prank betrays Mrs. Mallard to her death.
The story is narrated by omniscient point of view, so the readers interpret Mrs. Mallard’s death is because of the attack of Mr. Mallard’s coming back to ruin her dream. But other characters in the story think that she is too joyful about her husband’s coming back to face the fact. It is tricky that the doctors said the joy that kill her. We know the fact is that her husband stops her joy so that she dies. And those characters believe that Mr. Mallard brings the joy to her but she couldn’t take it from previous miserable moment so that she dies. The author is wise to make the end ambiguous.
I like such sudden, unexpected and neat way to bring to a closure. It makes me recall the films in French New Wave. The filmmakers in that period preferred greater uses of symbolism and abstraction and dealt with themes of social alienation, psychology and sexual love. They loved to make a sudden climax and end the story, and they would leave an open ending to the audience to make them define it, continue it, or conclude it. Therefore, if Mrs. Mallard should live and tell her husband the truth, or she should live, keeping pretending she is fine like she did before. In my opinion, nothing is cleverer than the original one. If the author changed the end and kept writing the story, it would create an absurd anticlimax. It would ruin the whole story the author designs elaborately. Such French writing style could make readers taste again and again.If there would be anyone in Hollywood being considered for the role of Mrs. Louise Mallard. I think, based on Mrs. Mallard’s characteristics. Elizabeth Taylor in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” and Vivien Leigh in “Gone with the Wind” could be considered for this dramatic queen. If so, that would be fabulous!
Journal
Entering a café near my house, I found a seat in front of the counter, which could make me observe people, including clerks and the customers. I ordered a cup of Tazo, spending my whole afternoon on completing the people watching assignment.
There were 5 customers when I came here. Two of them seemed a couple, sitting in an interior recess of this café, under the romantic light, holding each other’s hands beneath the coffee table. The young guy kept talking to his girl, and the girl listened, nodding with an attractive smile.
Beside my right hand, there was a very charming female talking to her fancy red cell phone; however, she didn’t look delighted. She seemed to be complaining something, rolling her straight long hair with her fingers. One minute she shrugged her shoulders; the next minute she shook the head to emphasize her disagreement and anger.
Before this fancy lady, a young and handsome foreigner typed his laptop, drinking a glass of Frappuccino coffee. His brown hair under the soft light turned blond, and the rows of eyelashes were dense and long like a pretty doll’s, and they almost covered his blue eyeballs when he looked down on the screen. His tall and straight nose made a triangular shadow by the low-key light on his left cheek. The two fleshy lips pat lightly with each other when he murmuring the contents on the screen. He looked afar, thinking about something, and then he kept typing again. Suddenly, he raised the head, glaring at the fancy lady, who was talking loudly to her cell phone in front of him. The lady’s behavior obviously interrupted this young foreigner’s train of thought; then he stood up, walking toward her table and bent the body to express himself. The young foreigner put his right forefinger on lips gently and made his left palm downward to gesture the meaning of low voice. The lady immediately shrank her shoulders and bowed the head down, feeling embarrassed. She waved her palm lightly to show the motion that she apologized. Then, the foreigner went back to his table, drawing Frappuccino a little bit, sitting down and continued his work; unforeseeably, he stared here. I was stunned so that I diverted my attention, pretending I was focusing on the outside behind him; he, however, was still staring. I stole a glance and found that he was smiling at me. I felt awkward, giving him an ambiguous smile as a feedback, and then we both scratched our head at the same time, smiling again.
The wind bells hung on the glass door ringing, an old man wearing a dirty yellow shirt and a sordid pair of slippers entered, carrying a huge backpack and taking amount of plastic sacks in hands. He seemed like a homeless man. He hobbled toward a counterman and saying something I couldn’t hear. The counterman politely pointed his finger at me. After that, the old man walked haltingly. I astounded the destination he tempted to go to, because he was on the way to me. The young foreigner saw my odd countenance so that he turned his head to find out what was going on. He at once stood up a little, starring at the old man with wide eyes. Wondering what if this old man would say something to me, I took off my headphone, standing up as well with panic, and I holding my breath in order to his stink. In a moment, he passed by my right side and went into the bathroom behind me. I felt uncomfortable so that I got out of the café right away.
There were 5 customers when I came here. Two of them seemed a couple, sitting in an interior recess of this café, under the romantic light, holding each other’s hands beneath the coffee table. The young guy kept talking to his girl, and the girl listened, nodding with an attractive smile.
Beside my right hand, there was a very charming female talking to her fancy red cell phone; however, she didn’t look delighted. She seemed to be complaining something, rolling her straight long hair with her fingers. One minute she shrugged her shoulders; the next minute she shook the head to emphasize her disagreement and anger.
Before this fancy lady, a young and handsome foreigner typed his laptop, drinking a glass of Frappuccino coffee. His brown hair under the soft light turned blond, and the rows of eyelashes were dense and long like a pretty doll’s, and they almost covered his blue eyeballs when he looked down on the screen. His tall and straight nose made a triangular shadow by the low-key light on his left cheek. The two fleshy lips pat lightly with each other when he murmuring the contents on the screen. He looked afar, thinking about something, and then he kept typing again. Suddenly, he raised the head, glaring at the fancy lady, who was talking loudly to her cell phone in front of him. The lady’s behavior obviously interrupted this young foreigner’s train of thought; then he stood up, walking toward her table and bent the body to express himself. The young foreigner put his right forefinger on lips gently and made his left palm downward to gesture the meaning of low voice. The lady immediately shrank her shoulders and bowed the head down, feeling embarrassed. She waved her palm lightly to show the motion that she apologized. Then, the foreigner went back to his table, drawing Frappuccino a little bit, sitting down and continued his work; unforeseeably, he stared here. I was stunned so that I diverted my attention, pretending I was focusing on the outside behind him; he, however, was still staring. I stole a glance and found that he was smiling at me. I felt awkward, giving him an ambiguous smile as a feedback, and then we both scratched our head at the same time, smiling again.
The wind bells hung on the glass door ringing, an old man wearing a dirty yellow shirt and a sordid pair of slippers entered, carrying a huge backpack and taking amount of plastic sacks in hands. He seemed like a homeless man. He hobbled toward a counterman and saying something I couldn’t hear. The counterman politely pointed his finger at me. After that, the old man walked haltingly. I astounded the destination he tempted to go to, because he was on the way to me. The young foreigner saw my odd countenance so that he turned his head to find out what was going on. He at once stood up a little, starring at the old man with wide eyes. Wondering what if this old man would say something to me, I took off my headphone, standing up as well with panic, and I holding my breath in order to his stink. In a moment, he passed by my right side and went into the bathroom behind me. I felt uncomfortable so that I got out of the café right away.
Journal
“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.” the poem which is composed by the greatest English poet—William Shakespeare is pretty easy to literally understand. Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more,Men were deceivers ever,One foot in sea and one on shore,To one thing constant never.Then sigh not so, but let them go,And be you blithe and bonny,Converting all your sounds of woeInto hey nonny, nonny, nonny.Sing no more ditties, sing no moreOf dumps so dull and heavy,The fraud of men was ever so,Since summer first was leafy.Then sigh not so, but let them go,And be you blithe and bonny,Converting all your sounds of woeInto hey nonny, nonny, nonny.Then sigh not so, but let them go,And be you blithe and bonny,Converting all your sounds of woeInto hey nonny, nonny, nonny.
At first, after reading, I thought the poem was quite adorable and naughty, but I was sure I took it as a simple work. It’s not just as superficial as I thought at all. I was afraid that I barely even understand it. I have to realize the master’s work or I would never read it well. Even though the poem seems easy literally, I don’t know what kind of situation it was when dear Shakespeare composed it. I thought it is important that I need to know the background, the story behind this poem back or the moment of making it; thus, I may entirely appreciate it. It is just like when we appreciate a painting or some work of art, if we know the life experiences or trivia of the author, and we will understand his work better. Otherwise, it will be just a personal, subjective and narrow statement. This way might make people have different kinds of thoughts. What we do is not appreciate. What we do is but makes a wild guess, talk about our own feelings or misconstrue the work. Because we don’t know the fact behind the master’s work, we always judge it by its one-sided cover. It is a little bit shallow to me. On the other hand, people say we can appreciate the art to make it show the different reflections of various viewers, because art itself is like a mirror. People have plenty of types of life experiences, personal feelings and tastes so that the work of art is an object. Like some filmmakers and directors say that there is no determined and conclusive idea in one good cinema, it is always in the audiences’ minds. Therefore, I think I should do the both ways, knowing the background of the poem and presenting our feelings and thoughts cautiously. Appreciating a poem takes time. Perhaps we can express ourselves right away after reading it at first time, but I think it will be too hasty and risky. It is like when we taste a glass of wine, a cup of coffee or a drop of perfume, we need some time to feel them. And probably we will have completely different thoughts of them in the next morning, in the next year or in the last period of our life. I think there is an ironic tone in Sigh No More. I like the smell and the style in Shakespeare’s works. I don’t know if I twist his works. Because I think Shakespeare likes to write the plays and compose the poems with females’ standpoint. He always reproaches the males in his plays to stand out in contrast the females’ elegance, wisdom and charisma. I usually feel Shakespeare might think females are qualified as men to lead the society. He is fond of extolling women in his works. Moreover, he loves to make his women in his plays pretend to be males. Even, those women, who pretend to be males, could allure and attract other men and women. They are the beautiful young boys. I, sometimes, think William Shakespeare had at least bisexual orientation after reading his plays, such as The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Cymbeline, Macbeth, Twelfth Night, Romeo and Juliet and so on. He often puts some plots about cross-dressing or sex disorder in plays, or maybe I think too much after seeing the movie called “Shakespeare in Love.” No matter which one is true, I believe his works are avant-garde in that period. Perhaps, he just wanted to please the ladies whom he had loved. That’s all.
At first, after reading, I thought the poem was quite adorable and naughty, but I was sure I took it as a simple work. It’s not just as superficial as I thought at all. I was afraid that I barely even understand it. I have to realize the master’s work or I would never read it well. Even though the poem seems easy literally, I don’t know what kind of situation it was when dear Shakespeare composed it. I thought it is important that I need to know the background, the story behind this poem back or the moment of making it; thus, I may entirely appreciate it. It is just like when we appreciate a painting or some work of art, if we know the life experiences or trivia of the author, and we will understand his work better. Otherwise, it will be just a personal, subjective and narrow statement. This way might make people have different kinds of thoughts. What we do is not appreciate. What we do is but makes a wild guess, talk about our own feelings or misconstrue the work. Because we don’t know the fact behind the master’s work, we always judge it by its one-sided cover. It is a little bit shallow to me. On the other hand, people say we can appreciate the art to make it show the different reflections of various viewers, because art itself is like a mirror. People have plenty of types of life experiences, personal feelings and tastes so that the work of art is an object. Like some filmmakers and directors say that there is no determined and conclusive idea in one good cinema, it is always in the audiences’ minds. Therefore, I think I should do the both ways, knowing the background of the poem and presenting our feelings and thoughts cautiously. Appreciating a poem takes time. Perhaps we can express ourselves right away after reading it at first time, but I think it will be too hasty and risky. It is like when we taste a glass of wine, a cup of coffee or a drop of perfume, we need some time to feel them. And probably we will have completely different thoughts of them in the next morning, in the next year or in the last period of our life. I think there is an ironic tone in Sigh No More. I like the smell and the style in Shakespeare’s works. I don’t know if I twist his works. Because I think Shakespeare likes to write the plays and compose the poems with females’ standpoint. He always reproaches the males in his plays to stand out in contrast the females’ elegance, wisdom and charisma. I usually feel Shakespeare might think females are qualified as men to lead the society. He is fond of extolling women in his works. Moreover, he loves to make his women in his plays pretend to be males. Even, those women, who pretend to be males, could allure and attract other men and women. They are the beautiful young boys. I, sometimes, think William Shakespeare had at least bisexual orientation after reading his plays, such as The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Cymbeline, Macbeth, Twelfth Night, Romeo and Juliet and so on. He often puts some plots about cross-dressing or sex disorder in plays, or maybe I think too much after seeing the movie called “Shakespeare in Love.” No matter which one is true, I believe his works are avant-garde in that period. Perhaps, he just wanted to please the ladies whom he had loved. That’s all.
2010/6/14
Journal
I couldn't be absorbed in listening test this morning, being nonstop distracted by music of Carrie, Child's Play, Paper House, the Bride of Frankenstein, Baxter, and Nosferatu, stuck into my brain one after another. I closed eyes, trying to pull myself together, avoiding getting carried away, and then in coma... darn, I shouldn't spend 2 hours on music while waiting for the test to start. Thus, I think I blew it.
2010/6/10
Journal
In In House, there was another dapper waiter called 小鈞, Gloria's fave. He was the most civil and diligent server there. Funnily, he gave us the check and said "不好意思," but when he saw we were checking the original book I just bought, he sunnily said "sorry" with an impressive accent right away. After we made the whole table cloth become our own graffiti board, a slim, tall waitress showed us the counter. When she stretched her right arm to point at it, sweeping off a wine glass held in another waitress' hand. Everyone could hear the sharp and loud smash beside our toes. Obviously, we indirectly created a completely unnecessary chaos in In House last night...
Journal
For alcohol's sake, I went to In House again... with my friend, Gloria. And now, I have to tell those who fancy the waiter, described so fancily by my another friend, Amy Lin, on her Facebook, the fact. She didn't keep her eye on him precisely at first sight. Last time we saw him wearing a long face so that he seemed neat, seductive to Amy. Yet, this time Gloria and I found that if you guys see him wearing a drama queen's smile, I believe you'd change your mind ASAP even though he's wearing indelible Kenzo cologne(90% sure) when passing by. Still, I unwittingly drew a rough sketch of his right face on the table cloth when chatting with Gloria and he noticed that.
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