Meeting With Alan 7: Spring Festival

Alan and I had a bit of trouble thinking of what to talk about for our final conversation.  I think that both of us were feeling stressed and distracted by the end of the semester, and the whirlwind of work that comes with it.  We talked a little bit about summer break, and it seemed lie Alan does the same things with his friends at home that most people here do: hang out, listen to music, go see movies, etc.

We were both at something of a loss after that, until he asked whether he’d told me about Festival.  I was confused at first, so I asked what festival he meant.  He explained that he was talking about Spring Festival.  I still had no idea what he was talking about.  After a bit of confusion, I realized that Spring Festival is the celebration for the Chinese New Year. 

Alan told me that they get a break for Spring Festival instead of for Christmas.  This made sense to me, since Christianity is far from the majority religion in China.  That said, it’s difficult for me to imagine going through school without a winter break.  I also found it odd that it’s called Spring Festival, when it takes place anywhere from late January to mid-February.  To me, that time of the year is definitely winter.  But I suppose that the definition of seasons can be cultural as well.  Or perhaps it’s just a name and I’m overthinking.

People in China celebrate this holiday by eating special foods, cleaning the house to remove bad luck, and by decorating their doors with couplets printed on red paper.   One similarity to New Year’s celebrations here is that they ring in the new year with firecrackers.

Parting with Alan was an odd feeling, with him going back to China for the summer while I go back to Midland.  It’s pretty certain that, even though we’ll both still be at TCU, we won’t talk and may not even see each other anymore.  This assignment has been an interesting one, and it’s been fun to learn a little bit about a country that I previously knew very little about.

The Parten Family Dinner: An exercise in humor

Last weekend, I went home for the first time since Spring Break.  I know that that doesn’t sound like a long time, but the past few weeks have been so stressful for me that it seriously felt like months.  After I made the four hour drive back to Midland on Friday morning, I paid a visit to my dog, a 15-year-old blue tick hound named Daisy, in the backyard, and collapsed on the couch.  My family was still at school and work, so I did a bit of homework and waited.

Fast-forward a few hours.  My parents and brother are home, my dad’s made steak fingers and gravy (From scratch. Sorry, had to brag.), and we’re gathering around the table to eat dinner together.  This is how my family has always eaten, aside from nights when orchestra or sports have caused someone to be absent.  Growing up, I was always amazed to learn that some of my friends often ate in front of the television, or at different times than the rest of their family.  I consider myself incredibly lucky to have grown up with the tradition of sitting down and talking with my parents and brother every evening over dinner.

My favorite part of eating with my family has always been the conversation.  We typically start out by simply telling everyone how the day went, but as the meal progresses, things always get more fun.  This is where the humor comes in.  The atmosphere is completely informal, and the conversation turns into something of a free-for-all, with jokes and witty exchanges (usually at each other’s expense, but always in good spirit) flying in every direction.  At least once a week, I’ll find myself laughing so hard that tears are streaming down my face by the time the meal ends.

My all-time favorite memory of family dinner, however, is the time that my dad, my brother, and I had a food fight, much to my mother’s frustration.  Even though it happened years ago, many of the details are still fresh in my mind.  We were eating meatballs with potato dill sauce, and my dad had jokingly flexed the serving spoon back, threatening to fling some of the sauce across the table at me.  The fight began when the spoon slipped, and potato dill sauce splattered both me and my brother.  After that, and despite my mother’s protests, it was time for revenge.  I won’t bore you with all of the gory details, but suffice it to say that eventually, bananas that had gotten just a bit too soft to eat came into play.  Cleaning up afterwards was a relief, and my mother saw to it that we did so thoroughly.  We still all love to laugh about that night.

I love eating and talking with my family because they all share my sense of humor.  It’s always a good time because we all understand what sort of things make the others laugh.  Whether it’s everyday conversation or a food fight, dinner with my family is definitely one of my favorite things.

Mark Twain

“Loyalty to petrified opinions never yet broke a chain or freed a human soul.”

I chose this quotation to write about because I feel like it is still relevant today.  People often accept ideas without ever stopping to question them.  Change is what freed the slaves, gave women the right to vote, and got rid of segregated schools and restaurants.  If no one ever questioned the generally accepted ideas of their time, none of these changes would have taken place.  I try to constantly ask myself why I believe what I believe, and how those beliefs could potentially affect others.  I encourage those around me to do the same.  There’s nothing wrong with questioning what you believe.  It’s often one of the most effective ways of strengthening your beliefs.  And if your beliefs change as a result of this questioning, maybe it’s because they needed to change.  Maybe it’s for the better.  Politics, religion, social values…Do you know why you believe what you believe?

Juha, Part 3

I think that the last third of Tales of Juha was actually my least favorite.  There was less variety in these anecdotes, especially in chapter seven (“A Witty Rogue”) and chapter nine (“Justice and Generosity”).  The tales in both of these chapters took place nearly exclusively in court, and though I thought that some of them were clever, I felt like it got redundant after a while, especially since many of them started similarly, either describing the judge or telling us that Juha himself was the judge.  A few started out describing the crime that led the people to go to the judge, but regardless, they all wound up in the same place.

A tale that I did enjoy was the one where Juha told the man to take his nothing and be off.  The whole situation was absurd, with a man going to court in order to get paid the nothing he had been promised.  It’s the sort of situation that can only be setting you up for a punchline.  When Juha had the man find nothing under the book, then instructed him to take it, the situation became even more absurd.  As far as I’m concerned, everyone wound up happy.  One man got his nothing, the other didn’t have to pay it, and Juha got an interesting story to tell.

My favorite chapter in the last third of the book was chapter six, “Boastfulness and False Pride.”  I enjoyed it because we all know at least one person who just can’t resist any opportunity to brag.  Because that sort of behavior can annoy us and grow very old, very quickly, we can’t help but laugh when someone like that gets knocked down just a notch (though they’re usually back to their original state in no time).  I loved it when Juha was building up a grand tale about his horsemanship, and a friend of his cut in and told Juha’s audience that Juha had actually fallen off of the horse.  I love the mental image of Juha getting the crowd excited, and preparing himself to put them in awe of him, only to be humbled by someone who knows him too well to fall for his tales.

Another false pride tale that I enjoyed was the one where Juha fell off of his donkey, with his foot still stuck in the stirrup, but tried to play it off as intentional nonetheless.  I’m pretty sure that most people have done something similarly clumsy and then (jokingly or not) said something along the lines of “Uh…I meant to do that” as they pick themselves up and/or gather their scattered belongings.  I can’t count the number of times that I’ve stumbled and then just tried to play it off as though nothing happened or laughed about it to try and appear confident in my walking abilities (despite the evidence that I could use some work).

The last chapter, “Critic of Despotism,” was even more political than the stories about corrupt judges.  I won’t lie; I had to do an internet search to find out who Tamerlane was.  Once I did, the tales started to make sense.  They were, perhaps, a coping mechanism for the oppressed people who lived under him.  I enjoy learning about how people use humor to deal with adversity, so it was neat to see that it was done even long ago.

Meeting with Alan 6

Alan and I met for the second to last time today.  We sat at Bistro Burnett in the library and talked about school.  We compared our experiences here at TCU, and we also talked about how our high school experiences differed.

As far as out TCU lives go, things are pretty similar.  We’re both really busy right now, and both sort of amazed that the semester’s almost over.  One thing he did mention is that his psychology class seems to be more difficult for foreign students than native speakers of English, because the reading is more difficult for them, and they have to look up more words.

When Alan talked about how high school is in China, my mind was blown.  I’d always heard that it’s more difficult there than here, but I don’t think I’d quite grasped it before.  He said that typical high schools start around six in the morning, don’t finish until about ten at night, and still assign homework every day.  I have days when I’m not even awake as long as Alan was in school on a usual day.  I’m not sure that I could have handled it without just collapsing from exhaustion.  Maybe if it were normal to me I would have just dealt with it without question, but I’m a product of Texas schools, so the whole idea just sounds insane.  In the end, we’re both at the same school, and I don’t feel like whatever advantage I may have gained from such intense prior schooling would have outweighed the costs, both in time and in sanity.

He also said that in China, universities are easier than high school, and are a time to relax and enjoy a lighter workload.  I thought this was interesting, as here it’s the other way around.  High schools are easier than universities, and are typically the stepping stone to them.

Alan went to a special program his last two years in high school in order to prepare him to come abroad for college.  I mentioned that several of my friends were looking to spend a semester abroad, and his response was interesting.  He wanted to know why anyone here would want to study abroad when the United States is the most powerful and has the best schools.  I feel like this gave me an insight into his worldview and his reasons for coming here to study.  It seems that the cultural aspect of living abroad isn’t nearly as important to him as the education itself, whereas most people here who study abroad do it for cultural enrichment.

We also chatted just a bit about summer.  He asked if I’m going to do summer classes, and I told him that no, I’m going to go home for the summer and spend some time with my family, especially since I’ll be looking to have an internship next summer.  He said that he’ll go home for the summer as well.  I think we’re both ready to spend a few months de-stressing.  It’s hard to believe how quickly this semester’s flown by, and that Alan and I only have one meeting left.

Tales of Juha: Wit and Wisdom

I feel like Juha is a “John Doe” sort of character.  Generic.  A blank slate.  It’s easier to tell a story about a man if that man has a name, and so Juha exists.  Though the introduction to the book mentioned that Juha takes on many professions and many attitudes, I was still a bit confused as I read the first few anecdotes.  I realized that my problem was that I was trying to make a character out of Juha, one with specific traits and habits.  It was only after I allowed myself to think of Juha less as a character, and more as a name that can be applied to a range of characters, that I was able to relax and enjoy the humor.

The humor itself, however, was also sometimes problematic.  While I thought most of the anecdotes were either funny, clever, or both, some left me a bit confounded.  I feel like cultural differences, the differences between now and the time that the tales take place, and translations may have contributed to this.  Usually, I could see where some people may find something funny, or where the cognitive shift occurred (even if I wasn’t amused myself), but a few times, I found myself somewhat mystified.

An example of this was the one about selling the donkey that had wandered off.  Maybe the humor was that he wound up asking a higher price than he had originally stated.  But since he was also selling the cat, I’m not sure that it would benefit him.  Part of the problem is that I have no concept of the money used in the tale.  And why is he selling the cat, anyways?  What did the cat do wrong?  I digress.

Another interesting thing that I noticed was that the cover of the book seems to depict a story I’ve heard before.  Since the introduction mentioned that some of these stories are similar to Aesop’s Fables, I think I might be right.  Time will tell.  :)

I think I’ll finish this post off with my favorite quote from Juha so far:

“And what, after all, does man take with him at last, when he dies?”

“Nothing.”

“…And this ‘nothing’ is the hard, high price people don’t gain until it’s too late.”

ZOMBIES - Meeting With Alan 5

This week, Alan and I met in the library once again.  At first, we were unsure of what to talk about.  We got through the usual small talk, asking how each other’s weeks were going.  Then there was an awkward pause.  Alan then told me that he’s doing a presentation over Chinese zombies for Toastmasters, and asked if I would like to hear about it.  It sounded fun and interesting, so I agreed that we could talk about it.

First, he gave me a physical description of Chinese zombies.  They tend to have skin that has a green or blue color to it, and are somewhat decayed but not gory.  They move around by hopping, but some can jump so high that they’re practically flying.  Their arms are stiff and stuck in an outstretched position.  They are blind and rely on their senses of hearing and smell to find prey.

Alan told me that there are three types, or stages, of zombie.  He referred to them by the color of their “fur,” but after a little explaining I realized that the word that he was looking for was “mold.”  The first type has white mold, and is pretty harmless.  It’s alive, but still in its coffin and not really causing any harm.  The next type has green mold.  These zombies still aren’t a threat to humans.  They eat small animals instead.  The final, most dangerous stage of zombification is the black mold zombies.  These are the zombies that can fly and prey on people.

Chinese zombies are difficult to kill.  Alan showed me a picture of a wooden sword, and told me that only peach wood through the heart would kill a zombie.  I thought this was interesting, because it reminded me of how a wooden stake through the heart is one of the traditional vampire-killing methods that I’m used to hearing about.

He said that part of his presentation was about American zombies and vampires.  He included vampires because Chinese zombies share some traits with them.  He was surprised that I wasn’t interested in Twilight or True Blood.  He thought that all the girls here loved them, or at least loved some sort of vampire…romance…stuff.  I told him it’s just not exactly my preferred genre.  I also found out that he watches The Walking Dead.

All in all, it was a fun and interesting talk.  I learned a lot that I hadn’t known about Chinese monster stories, and it was neat getting to see the similarities and differences between the Chinese zombie tales and the zombies that I’m used to seeing in popular culture.  It was also fun because it was a topic that we both had something to add to, and that we were both genuinely interested in.

On Joking

This reading was extremely funny.  As I read it, I frequently found myself laughing out loud, and then sharing what I found funny with my roommate.  A few pages in, I realized that what I was doing proved a point that the author was trying to make: jokes are important to us, as is the sharing of them.

Why had I never realized this before?  Why had I never stopped to think about why we joke?  Perhaps it’s because joking is something I have always taken for granted.  I've always been surrounded by jokes.  Some of my earliest memories are of annoying my parents with knock-knock jokes.  As I grew older, I discovered stand-up comedians, who make an entire career of joking.  Jokes are everywhere, constantly being told and retold, constantly evolving as people come up with their own variations. While I was reading On Joking, I was amazed that I had never truly stopped to think about joking itself, what purpose it may serve, or why we even joke at all.

One interesting point that the book made was that when we hear a joke that we enjoy, we save it in our memory, and immediately think something along the lines of “Oh! So-and-so would love this!”  As I mentioned earlier, this desire to share jokes was exemplified by my showing portions of the reading that I found especially funny to my roommate and reading some of the little jokes at the bottom of the pages to her.  We do store jokes away in our minds.  We either put them away with a future recipient in mind, or we simply save them for a rainy day.  When we pass a joke on, we get a little amusement from the joke itself, but most of our enjoyment comes from making the other person laugh.

I think that I’m done with my not-quite-philosophical rambling for now, and I’d like to take a closer look at how On Joking differs from Morreall's book in its interpretation of the theories of humor.  The authors of this reading seemed to view the three theories as more of a spectrum than as three separate entities.  While Morreall sought to find one theory to explain all of humor, this reading showed how each can be used in examining a joke holistically.  A joke or instance of laughter may be caused in part by all or only one of the superiority, incongruity, or relief theories.  These reasons for laughter can be experienced one at a time, or simultaneously.  I feel like this way of looking at the three theories allows one to paint a more accurate picture of how humor is used in our everyday lives.

On Joking was both amusing and thought provoking; it forced me to step back and take a closer look at an aspect of my life that I’m not always consciously aware of.  It also gave me tools with which I could (assuming that I wanted to) accurately assess a joke and what exactly makes it funny to me.

Meeting With Alan 4

This Wednesday, Alan and I tried a change of pace, abandoned the library, and met in Market Square instead.  I was optimistic, hoping that a change of setting would help the flow of conversation.  I was surprised when he had two of his friends along.  After introductions, I learned that one of his friends was originally from Taiwan, and the other was also from China.  Though the shy side of me was quaking in fear just a bit, I decided to make the best of the situation.

The main topic that I wanted to discuss was how humor in China is different from humor here.  To this end, we spent a lot of our time exchanging jokes.  Most of Alan and his Chinese friend’s jokes were actually riddles.  The first one they told, which I’m pretty sure I’ve heard sometime before, went like this:

“Nathan’s father has three sons.

The first is named Son One

The second is named Son Two

What is the third son’s name?”

Of course, the answer is Nathan.  Most of their joke-riddles were like this, requiring an answer from the person hearing the joke.  I’m definitely not used to that.  To me, jokes are fairly simple.  They may be clever, but they are usually told by one person to another.  I've always tended to put riddles in a separate but related category.

The most surprising thing that happened, by far, was when I asked, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” and neither Alan nor his friends knew the answer.  Before this, I had thought the joke was completely universal, and had never met anyone aside from small children who had never heard it before.  I must admit, my shock made me a bit slow in getting around to telling the punchline, but when I told them, they all laughed fairly hard, and I was astounded once more.  I don’t even remember the last time I got a laugh out of that joke, because it is so overused here that it is really just a springboard for variations.

This experience actually made me think a bit more about the joke.  The punchline is so obvious that it makes the listener feel silly for whatever guesses they had been making.  I suppose that this is an example of a downward cognitive shift.  I’m still trying to come to terms with people thinking of this joke as genuinely funny.  I wonder if Alan has told any of his other international friends this joke, and if so, whether they had heard it before.  I hope that he has been able to get a couple chuckles out of it, at least.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

To get to the other side.

Senseless Acts of Comedy

After a long week of classes, and before a long weekend of homework, my brain needs a break.  This is why, on Thursday nights, some friends and I make a habit of going to see Senseless Acts of Comedy (SAC), where we can sit down, relax, laugh for an hour, and temporarily forget about the everyday stresses brought on by classes, tests, papers, and homework.  Senseless Acts of Comedy is a student improve troupe, and they use several different types of humor that I especially enjoy.

A form of humor that is commonly used in SAC, though not present in every game, is physical humor.  A particularly good example of physical humor is a game called “Puppets,” which was played last night.  In this game, the improvisers are permitted to say whatever dialog they please, but each is assigned an audience member to move them by positioning their arms and legs.  Each improviser may not move themselves, and must find ways to work the position their audience member puts them in into the scene.  I think this game is especially funny because the actions of the improvisers are disconnected from their words, which causes an incongruity that is often amusing.

Senseless Acts of Comedy members are also good at setting up the audience to expect one thing to happen, and then making the opposite happen.  The cognitive shift from expectation to a different reality results in laughter.  An example of this sort of violation of expectations occurred last night.  Two improvisers were on stage, one sitting on the floor and one standing, and another improviser was narrating the scene.  The narrator told the audience that one of the characters in the scene was half dog.  The audience, of course, expected the improviser on the floor to play the half-dog character, and so we were surprised when the improviser who was standing up made a barking sound.  We were wrong, but it wasn’t a disappointment; instead, it was only funny.

The improvisers also get laughs through irrational reactions and exaggerations within scenes.  A game that they often play that makes use of this sort of humor is called “stunt doubles.”  In this game, two improvisers portray characters struggling with an everyday task, such as laundry, and whenever the characters need help, they call in their stunt doubles, who expand the everyday task into an epic struggle, and solve the problems in a bigger way than necessary.  For example, they might use a fire hose to put out a candle.  This is an unexpected, irrational, and exaggerated response to an everyday situation.  We laugh both because we know better and because the concept itself is funny.

Some of the jokes heard at Senseless Acts of Comedy toe the fine line between what is humorous and what is offensive.  Some of these jokes are funny because they push boundaries.  Others, however, may not seem as funny in any other situation.  I believe that the social importance of laughter plays a huge role in how funny the SAC shows are.  As we have discussed in class, people are generally more likely to laugh out loud in a social setting.  This is why the jokes are funnier with an audience of a couple hundred people than later if you try to repeat them to a friend.  It is also why I, as an audience member, sometimes find myself laughing at jokes that I may not usually thing are amusing.

I, personally, think that Senseless Acts of Comedy is hilarious, and a great way to de-stress each week.  I also believe that everyone should give it a try at some point during their time at TCU.  Some shows are better than others, but they’re all fun.  Through physical humor, wacky characters, and exaggerated movements and actions, they make me laugh every time.

Success: Spring Break Blog 7

Slaughterhouse-Five: Chapters 7-10 and Overall Impression

I think that, at some point, I would like to pick a day and read this book in its entirety, all in one sitting.  I’m curious about how I would feel about it after reading it that way.  I’d have to wait a few years first, and let the details of the story fade.  Even then I would still be influenced by my memories of the first time I read it.  Nonetheless, I feel like I may appreciate it even more that way.  Though I understand that breaking it up into pieces was a necessity for this class, I can’t help but feel that the first few and last few chapters need the middle three to be complete, and to have the impact that they were meant to have.  That said, I still quite enjoyed Slaughterhouse-Five.

The last four chapters in the book fill in the remaining holes in our knowledge of the life of Billy Pilgrim.  The bombing of Dresden occurs at last, and Vonnegut lets us see the impact that it has on Billy later in life, connecting the dots between his symptoms and his wartime experiences.  Reading this part of the book was simultaneously satisfying, in that I finally knew the whole story, and depressing, in that the story itself isn’t a happy one.  At one point, the book briefly switched back to Vonnegut’s perspective and told a bit more about his trip back to Dresden.  I think that this is important because, otherwise, one could easily become too wrapped up in the tale of Billy Pilgrim to remember that the story is connected both to Vonnegut’s life and to our world in general.

Slaughterhouse-Five could have been a very difficult book to read.  Had it been a straight autobiography that only told of the horrors of war, I probably would have cried through most of it, and then promptly tried to forget as much of it as I could.  I don’t like to read sad things.  I can’t think of many people who do.  This is where comedy and the absurd come in.  I think that Vonnegut understood this, and so he wrote a book that people could enjoy reading without losing the core message.  By interspersing the images of war among absurd alien stories and unrelated events, Vonnegut was able to create something that people would want to keep reading, without losing sight of what he really wanted to say.

Towards the beginning of Slaughterhouse-Five, Vonnegut promises that it will be an antiwar book.  In my last blog over this book, I mentioned the backwards war movie as an example of these sentiments.  Now, however, I think that Professor Rumfoord, Billy’s hospital roommate, illustrates Vonnegut’s feelings towards war even better.  I think that Rumfoord is intended represent the wartime state of mind, or something to that effect.  His opinion that “people who are weak deserved to die” is harsh and unsympathetic, and causes the reader to dislike him instantly.

This book is, in my opinion, filled with great quotes.  So, to conclude my last blog about it, I’ll just leave you with this:

“Still—if I am going to spend eternity visiting this moment and that, I’m grateful that so many of those moments are nice.”

Spring Break Blogging Challenge: Blog 6

Wild Wild West

I must say, when it comes to movies and music, I love things that can’t be classified into just one specific genre.  This is why Wild Wild West, which has been classified as a steampunk western action-comedy film, is right up my alley.  It has both physical humor and clever wordplay.  It is, however, very unique and doesn’t appeal to all audiences, hence its 21% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, a website on which a perfect movie would be rated at 100%.

For those who are unfamiliar with this movie, have a link to the trailer.

The general idea is that the characters of Will Smith and Kevin Kline are forced to team up and overcome their differences in order to stop Dr. Loveless, the evil, legless ex-Confederate general played by Kenneth Branagh.  Absurd steampunk technologies appear, and awesomeness ensues.

Physical Humor

Kevin Kline plays an eccentric inventor, and much of the humor in the movie stems from the unexpected use of his gadgets.  Everything from a flying machine to a pool table trap to a closet full of disguises lead to amusing antics. 

Banter

Jim West (Will Smith) exchanges clever banter with Dr. Loveless throughout the movie.  Much of the humor comes from subtle puns and jabs, rather than outright insults.  In my opinion, this makes the banter even funnier than if it had been comprised of overt insults.

Comic Relief

In an alternate universe, Wild Wild West is a serious movie.  Fortunately, we don’t live in that universe.  The constant joking, banter, and physical humor keep the movie light.  Suspension of disbelief is definitely necessary to enjoy Wild Wild West.  Fake science abounds, and there is a lot of joking in situations that would otherwise be very serious.

Wild Wild West is a unique movie that combines several genres and several types of humor.  Between the technology that the viewer wishes really existed and the jokes that don’t stop coming, it keeps me interested and amused from start to finish.

Spring Break Blogging Challenge: Day 5 (belated)

Meeting With Alan 3

As usual, Alan and I met in the computer section of the library.  This was a pretty short meeting, but I’ll relay what I can.  This time, we talked about famous Chinese tourist destinations.  Some of them were similar to things we have here in the United States, but others were different.

One thing that surprised me was that China, too, has a Grand Canyon.  It is very different from our Grand Canyon.  The climate is much greener, unlike the desert in Arizona.  He also showed me pictures from Crown Cave and Reed Flute Cave, which reminded me slightly of Carlsbad Caverns.  The lighting in the pictures of these caves, however, is multicolored, and gives the caves a surreal look.

A city that Alan has visited is Guilin.  The area around Guilin is known for its scenic views.  In fact, the picture on the back of the 20 Yuan bill is a drawing of scenery from the surrounding area.  Note to self: ask more about Chinese money in the future.  I realize now that I know very little about it.

Alan has also visited the island of Hainan, a very popular tourist destination for those who live in mainland China.  It has many things to do, including nature reserves, beaches, ports, and historical sites.  It reminds me somewhat of how Hawaii is seen by much of the United States; a getaway from the ordinary.

I promise that I’ll get back on schedule and have seven blogs by the end of break!  Speaking of which, I hope everyone is having a great spring break and had a great Pi day (3/14)!

Spring Break Blogging Challenge: Day 4 (belated)

Slaughterhouse-Five, Chapters 4-6

The first three chapters of Slaughterhouse-Five introduced me to a few segments of Billy Pilgrim’s life, and piqued my interest.  The next three have exceeded my expectations; as the pieces come together, I find myself more and more engaged in Billy’s adventures.  One particularly interesting aspect of Vonnegut’s storytelling is that, since Billy time travels, the reader learns of many events before they actually occur.  I find myself, every now and again, thinking “Spoiler Alert” about something that has been mentioned in passing but not yet fully explained.  I would like to use this blog to discuss a few moments that have especially stood out to me, some of which are humorous, and some of which are not.

Backward war movie

Vonnegut states in the first chapter of this book that it is an anti-war book, but I believe that this is one of the most effective anti-war scenes thus far.  Billy sits down to watch a late-night movie about war, only to come unstuck in time and watch the movie backwards.  He describes things such as the Germans using miraculous machines to suck all of the shrapnel and bullet holes from American planes, and Americans taking fires from German towns, putting them into capsules, and shipping them back to the US to be dismantled, “so they would never hurt anybody ever again.”  This scene is somewhat painful to read, as the sheer innocence of it contrasts so sharply with the realities of war.

Tralfamadorian books

All in all, I feel like Vonnegut’s description of the Tralfamadorian books are something like what he was aiming to accomplish in writing this book.  The “brief clumps of symbols separated by stars” in the Tralfamadorian books parallel the short sections in this book, which are separated by dots.  Furthermore, the alien books are supposed to be comprised of many unrelated moments that, when put together, form something greater than the sum of the book’s parts.  I believe that, although all of the moments described in this book are related (in that they are all taken from the life of Billy Pilgrim), they too are supposed to form something greater than the sum of their parts.  This is the real reason that Billy is unstuck in time.  Vonnegut needed to be able to jump around, to juxtapose joy and sorrow, peace and war, solemnity and absurdity.

“It will never be bombed.”

A British prisoner assured the Americans, who were to be sent to Dresden to work, that Dresden was of no military significance, and that the Americans need not worry about bombs.  This example of dark irony is somewhat chilling, as the reader knows the fate of Dresden—that it will be bombed, and that many will die.  The optimism instilled in the American prisoners by the Englishman is merely false hope.  It is humorous in that the reader knows something that the characters do not, but it is hardly the sort of humor that one would laugh at.

These are only a few of my favorite moments in the book so far.  I found myself making note of page numbers and quotes often as I read, and I paused several times while reading to simply reflect on what Vonnegut was really saying through a given scene.  I am looking forward to reading the rest of Billy Pilgrim’s story.

Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.

Spring Break Blogging Challenge: Day 3

Slaughterhouse-Five Chapters 1-3

So far, most of our readings for this class have been fairly lighthearted.  Even if not everyone found them funny, they were still fairly light readings that weren't too deep in nature.  Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five is definitely breaking this pattern.

Most of the humor in the book so far comes from irony, with a bit of the absurd sprinkled in.  After the first chapter, which jumped between random events in Vonnegut’s life that led up to the publishing of this book, the story follows a character named Billy Pilgrim who, as we learn, is (or at least believes that he is) “unstuck in time.”

In World War II, Billy is a chaplain’s assistant who is assigned to a regiment that is destroyed before he even meets the chaplain he was supposed to assist.  In the aftermath, he is left wandering behind German lines with a few other survivors, and is eventually taken prisoner.

Interspersed with the story of Billy’s wandering and imprisonment are scenes from his life before and after the war, which he seems to relive at random.  This is the reason that Billy thinks himself to be “unstuck.”  We also find that after the war and an airplane accident that caused him head trauma, Billy began to tell papers and radio stations that he had once been kidnapped by an alien race, the Tralfamadorians, and shown the secrets of life and time.

Every time someone dies, or someone dead is mentioned, Vonnegut uses the Tralfamadorian phrase, “So it goes” as something of a sidenote.  I believe that there is a bleak, weary sort of humor in the use and overuse of this phrase.  The redundancy of the expression highlights just how much death is in this book, while also making it seem mundane.  The implication that the depressing is also the ordinary causes a slight shift in understanding that is too sad to be considered especially amusing, yet too incongruous to be overlooked.

The irony of Billy’s story is similarly dark.  There are several points at which he should logically be the one to die, but someone else winds up dying instead.  One example is when the two capable and seasoned soldiers abandon him and another incompetent man behind enemy lines, Billy and the other are taken prisoner, while the two soldiers are soon discovered and shot.

Furthermore, after Billy was the sole survivor of a plane crash, his wife died of carbon monoxide poisoning while he was still recovering in a hospital.  The cognitive shift here is from the good news that Billy has survived to the horrible news that his wife dies while he is away.

Thus far, I have enjoyed Vonnegut’s writing style, despite the darkness of his story.  The interwoven tales about Billy keep one from becoming too bogged down in the depressing details, and the absurdity of the bits about Tralfamador contrast nicely with the solemnity of Billy’s experiences as a POW.

So it goes.

Spring Break Blogging Challenge: Day 2

Meeting with Alan 2

For our second meeting, Alan and I met in the library again.  We met at the computers in the loud section of the library, so that I could see pictures of what he was talking about and understand better.  This was especially useful as, after we made the standard small talk, asking how each other’s week and classes were going, the main topic of our conversation was the types of food that Alan usually eats at home, and how it differs from the food that is usually served in America.

First, we talked about general concepts.  I remembered from our previous meeting that he didn’t care much for American food and didn’t like cheese.  I asked whether he usually eats out or at home in China, and he told me that he usually eats at home because restaurants are less healthy and tend to use more salt and oils than he prefers.

Next, we looked at pictures of foods that different regional cuisines in China (there are several) are known for.  The foods that he pointed out as things that he would typically eat at home came from the Anhui cuisine.  I took note of some of the things that he showed me that he liked, including:

A pork dish with peach-based sauce

A dish that looked like a sort of soup, with egg, ham, mushrooms, peas, and some other vegetables

I was somewhat surprised when he also pointed out crispy fried chicken that looked much like what I would expect to find in a restaurant here in the United States.  It looked much more familiar than anything else that he had shown me.

The meeting was still pretty awkward, but I found myself coming out of it with hope that we’re slowly finding some common ground, and that maybe our conversations will eventually be able to flow a bit more naturally, instead of just like an assignment.  I’m crossing my fingers here, and trying to think of ways that I can help that happen.

Spring Break Blogging Challenge: Day 1

That beast called procrastination has reared its ugly head.  Here I sit, wondering where half the semester has gone, and why I don’t have more blogs done (shouldn't they be writing themselves or something?).  Thus, I have challenged myself to write a blog a day over the course of Spring Break, seven blogs in total.  Some will be reflections on my sense of humor and humorous experiences, others will be about meetings with Alan that I have neglected to write about, and at least one will be a reflection on my readings for class.  Here goes nothing.

I've noticed, over the years, that I tend to have a more dry, sarcastic, and biting sense of humor than many of my peers.  I find myself constantly having to do a mental double-check on my jokes to ensure that they won't be taken too seriously.  Many of (what I think are) the funniest things I say tend to be delivered straight-faced.  Soon after I first befriend people, I try to make a point of warning them that anything that I say that sounds harsh is probably sarcasm, and that if I become harsher in my jokes, it means that I'm growing more comfortable around them, not that I've stopped liking them.

It’s this sense of humor and this tendency to use sarcasm as a means of showing that I enjoy someone's company that led me to spend the entire first month or two of my time with my roommate flatly saying “No.” to nearly every question she would ask me.

“Would you like to head to dinner with me?”

“No.”

“Hey, can I borrow a-”

“Nope.”

“Do you need anything from the store?”

“No.  Wait!  Crap.”

Fortunately, she caught on within a couple days that I would wait a couple seconds after my initial (sarcastic) “No” to provide my actual response, usually in the form of handing her what it was she asked for or getting ready to go somewhere without any verbal confirmation.  I was amused, and I like to believe that she was too, once she understood what was going on.  Regardless, we're still friends, so I don't think she minded too much.

My other TCU friends, however, don't spend as much time with me, and are still working on understanding my humor.  Recently, when another of our friends was in the room, my roommate and I had a mock-argument over something silly (I believe it was who is more bothered by the clicking noise that our thermostat makes), and the non-roommate friend became uncomfortable and asked us to stop fighting and yelling at each other.  It was an interesting perception, as neither I nor my roommate had the slightest idea that our conversation could ever be taken seriously.  I suppose that it was the tone of our voices that led to that impression, but I'm still not quite sure.

Despite the strangeness of my sense of humor, I've been lucky enough to find some other people who share my enjoyment of sarcasm, dry wit, and fake arguments.  I still have to watch myself around most people, but it's good to know that there are those I can have a laugh with in my own way.

FunniEST?

This semester, I've been very excited to get to The 50 Funniest American Writers.  I had assumed that it would be an anthology of pieces that would be both short and funny.  So far my sense of humor and that of Mr. Borowitz tend to differ vastly.  Of the four pieces that I have read from this book, I personally only classify one of them, “The Ransom of Red Chief,” as especially amusing.  The others fell short to me.

“The Ransom of Red Chief” by O. Henry was amusing to me because of the reversal of expectations presented by the boy taking the kidnappers hostage.  One would expect the boy to be terrified and wanting to go home.  But by the end of the story, the kidnappers were paying money for the boy’s father to take him back.  There’s also a bit of physical humor in the boy’s abuse of Bill, but that kind of thing doesn't appeal to me as much.

Thurber’s “More Alarms at Night” seemed to me to be the sort of story that someone would tell to their friends and finish with, “I guess you had to be there.”  It seems like a great story to laugh about with the people who experienced it, but not one that others could relate to.  I, personally, have never woken my dad up in the middle of the night and scared him into thinking me insane.  Perhaps it’s great fun.  Perhaps I should try it sometime.  But for now, this story seems too distanced from my own life to hold much, if any, humor for me.

The next story I read, “The Waltz” by Dorothy Parker, came closer to experiences that many people may have had.  While not everyone may have recently been asked to waltz, most people can relate to agreeing to plans they aren't particularly interested in.  The narrator’s sarcastic commentary brings a bit of humor to this otherwise unpleasant situation.  She uses extreme exaggeration to mock her dance partner’s clumsiness and express her own feelings toward him.  At one point she debates whether she should kill him just to stop the dance from continuing.  Were she serious, such thoughts could be considered psychopathic.  But, as the reader knows, she is merely allowing her mind to wander in order to pass the time until the dance ends.  The sharp contrast between the narrator’s inner thoughts, which are very dark, and her spoken words, which are polite and gracious, is another source of humor in the story.  “The Waltz” is a dark, sarcastic work of humor, which I believed was fairly entertaining, although I wouldn't say it’s the kind of story to make a person laugh out loud.

The fourth and (so far) final piece I read from this anthology wasn't a short story at all.  It was an article, entitled “A Few Words About Breasts” and written by Nora Ephron.  In the article, she rambled about how awkward puberty was for her, how small her breasts are, and why she feels that the world is against her because of this.  I didn't think it was very funny.  I’m not even convinced that the author was even attempting to be amusing.  There’s a possibility that I didn't pick up on some sarcasm, or that I was simply incapable of relating to the world that Ms. Ephron grew up in.  Regardless, the only potential source of humor that I saw in the article was that other women may be able to relate to her coming-of-age experiences and laugh with her.

Overall, this book has me intrigued.  It certainly contains an interesting variety of styles and types of humor.  I’m a bit curious as to what type of humor Andy Borowitz himself uses.  Perhaps I will do a bit of research and write about my findings in a future blog.  Is the humor he uses very similar to or different from the humor he enjoys reading?  I would also like to know how the book was compiled, and whether he took suggestions from others in his search for the fifty funniest authors.

Conversation 1

On Wednesday, I met with my conversation partner, Alan Ti, for the first time.  It was a bit awkward and difficult to find each other, since we had never seen one another before and the library, our meeting place, was busy.  I must admit that, as a natural introvert, was extremely nervous about this assignment.  I chose to look at it as an opportunity for growth.

Alan told me that he is originally from a city in China near Shanghai.  He was a bit confused about the point of the conversation partner assignment, and didn't seem very enthusiastic about it, as he lives in Waits with a roommate he already speaks English to regularly.  I resolved to try to make the best of it.  I asked him to tell me a bit about what it's like in China, and we went to a computer and showed me some maps.  He pointed out the different regions of China, and explained that most of the people live in the South and East parts of the country, making it very crowded.  I can't imagine such a large number of people packed into such a small area.  As a native Texan, I'm used to things being a bit more spread out.  He told me that the reasons that some parts of China are so crowded while others are practically uninhabited include climate (some of these areas get very little rain) and the boundary that is formed by the Himalaya Mountains.

I asked Alan what his favorite thing about his hometown was, and his answer was immediate: the food.  He said that he can't stand cheese, and people here put it on practically everything.  I realized that he was right - we do use a lot of it.  He also said that the reason he came to TCU was a scholarship offer.

Alan will officially be a TCU freshman in the fall.  He is trying to decide whether he wants to major in finance or electrical engineering.  A mechanical engineering major myself, I was able to tell him what the first year engineering classes are like here. He said he had heard that they are hard and boring, but I told him that I think it's just a matter of what your interests are, and that so far, I have enjoyed most of them.

Alan and I parted with plans to meet again in a week or two.  I think he plans to tell me more about what kinds of foods he eats in China, and I look forward to hearing about it.