4/24 - TPatG I

First off, I guess I should say that this book is probably my favorite out of all the previous novels we've read. It's relatively simple, descriptive, and has a straightforward narrative that I can only hope will get better as the pages keep turning (and they most assuredly will).

The structure that Greene molds this story with is an interesting one - he has a variety of characters (with the more central one being the NoName Priest), and he tells different accounts of interacting with NoName from the ancillary characters' points of view. Doing this is an interesting choice - you're seeing the main character who you are supposed to be feeling sympathy for, but for various sections of the novel (at least what I read), you are experiencing him from the viewpoint of other characters. It's interesting that Greene chose to do this, to give us as readers a sense of how this protagonist works and functions in regards to others while later focusing in on how his mind actually works. I really do enjoy that seeing that there is a method to this NoName's madness (obviously that is just a turn of phrase, he is not mad. Not in a way that I can tell, anyway). The way that Greene does this is by sectioning off different parts of the narrative so that each one deals with one (or in some cases a group) character's storyline and then moving on to another. This for the most part works, but there were a couple spots that I was kind of confused, mainly because he began those sections with a lot of description and not enough naming of the characters. But obviously reading on (to where individuals are mentioned) sorted out my confused state.

One small thing that I thought was very interesting involved our friend the dentist, the English Mr. Tench (I cannot remember if a first name is given - I do not think so, but I might be wrong). When he was contemplating writing a letter to his estranged wife (though estranged may be too harsh a word, he just has not spoken to her for quite some time, that does not necessarily mean their relationship is strained. It probably is, I reckon.), he found it difficult because though he knew what person to write to, he could not actually remember her AS a person, he could only remember the various hats she wore. While this section is fairly humorous, it got me thinking about the times when this same thing has happened to me. Sometimes when I have gone a long (or sometimes short) time without speaking or seeing my significant other or a family member, I try to recall what they look like but fail to create a concrete image - I can only see the little things that were insignificant at the time. The sunglasses they wore, the bracelet(s) they wore that jingled and jangled as they walked, maybe the color of the shirt they wore the last time I saw them. Even if I am able to create in my minds-eye an image that suits them, it troubles me that I cannot remember what their voice sounded like (and the replacements I try to fit into the puzzle are either not right at all or are just not quite right to hit the mark).

Reading on a bit further, it was interesting to see the character (and I use that term both in its literary sense and in the sense that the person is indeed quite a character) that NoName deals with on his way to Carmen. This "mestizo" (which I learned is someone of European and American Indian ancestry) who tags along, while quite an annoyance to NoName, piqued the interest in my reader's mind. First of all, this guy only has two teeth and both of them are canines - what? That is such an interesting choice to make this guy, is what I thought first off, but then I tried to make an image in my head and everything I came up with was sort of snake-like because of those two teeth which probably looked like fangs when he opened his mouth at all. But is this just a coincidence? Could this mestizo be a snake-in-waiting for NoName? Perhaps his eagerness to know NoName is just a ruse to out him as a priest, or maybe this man, being of mixed race is also of importance. I mean, if this guy is mixed with European he probably has fairly light skin, so perhaps (and this is a big grasping at straws moment) he is the gringo that the authorities are looking for? Like I mentioned, I'm probably just making random conjectures that go nowhere, but it would be an interesting bit of irony for these two men on the run to meet by happenstance.

4/17 - Last September 'n' things

i'm not sure what it is - the characters, the setting, the plot (if there is one) - but for whatever reason I just find it extremely difficult to follow what's happening in this darned book. Now, obviously with me being a lone, insignificant college student in the Midwest, this doesn't mean that there isn't anything happening or that the material is inferior in any way, it just means that for whatever reason, I can't wrap my head around it. That being said, I think the further I get into the novel, the more I can somewhat-kinda-sorta soak up what's all the intricate (and I use the term "intricate" lightly) plot movement.

While discussing what modernism is, I thought about the ideas that everyone had and I began to understand and believe that this book is indeed modernist. First, the shifting points of view - every chapter seems to begin to focus on another character, but within that chapter itself, the focus goes from one character to the next, and then sometimes back again. In one section, I believe I was reading a bit about Marda, but then all of a sudden it shifts perspectives from her (though it may not have been her) to "Laurence could not sleep" or something to that effect. While I understand that this is a modernist quality, I do not know if it's used to its greatest effectiveness. I mean, the way it is now, with the sudden shift, it seems like Bowen wanted the reader to be confused and shaken by the immediate change. But, that may not have been her purpose - perhaps she did not know of any other way to change viewpoints.

Not following any clear plot structure/having a plot that is not traditional is definitely a modernist quality that this and other books we have read have shared. Orlando definitely didn't follow an understandable plot (but the book itself was somewhat easy to follow, it just wasn't traditional) - I definitely couldn't predict the ending to the story of the 300 year-old sex-changed...person. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man also had a wonky plot. It didn't really seem to know where it was going to go - one moment we're in Stephen's childhood and then just a bit later we're with him at college.

Actually, the more I think about it, I don't think that what I'm talking about is related to the plot structure, it's more about the subject of time within the novel. Shifting through different moments in time without warning was definitely a quality of the majority of novels we've previously read. Orlando, as I mentioned, was jumping all over the timeline of his/her life, but once you got over the fact that times have changed, it was reasonably easy to follow what was happening.

Some of the books we've read dealt in ever-changing times, and Bowen's book is no different, though it's a bit tamer when compared to works like Orlando. While we have a general sense of where and when things are happening, the reader isn't too sure how much time has passed within the story - characters talk about how someone has stayed for "too short a time" but never actually mention how long they were there,

I guess the point is that if you dwell on the fact that time isn't really mentioned it might be confusing, but if you accept that time is irrelevant in the whole scheme of things, then The Last September can go much smoother.

4/2 - APotAaaYM - fin

The flock (if you can call it a flock) of birds in the second-to-last section, in my opinion, was a little too on-the-nose for my taste. I get that Stephen's last name is related to the Grecian Daedalus (and he in turn is related to his son, Icarus), but putting a flock of birds flying around near the sun (was it near the sun? now that i think about it, I'm not sure if it was even day time then. but I think it had to be, otherwise how could Stephen seen them?) was almost too subtle in its in-between the lines-yness (sarcasm is meant to be spoken, not written, unfortunately). But, I can understand that Stephen would contemplate the origins and meanings of his name (I myself sometimes ponder that my first name is Irish and means something aloong the lines of "handsome" and "strong" - go figure).

The situation with Stephen and Emma is a condundrum to me. (First of all, she's a big jerk for ignoring Stephen.) It might just be because I, for whatever reason, did not read close enough or what, but I do not know where this character of the feminine persuasion came into the status quo. I remember when he wrote something and addressed it "To E---C----" and I figured it was a woman or a girl he knew, but I didn't think she ever became a large part of his life. There was that dream scene (I think it was a dream, anyway), where he got all angry and whatnot at how she flirted with a priest or something...but that may or may not have been something I just made up out of thin air. Anyways, I kind of wish that if she's so "important" to Stephen that she be introduced better and given more "screen time," as it were.

It's interesting that Joyce chose to make Cranly eat figs during the scene either before or during the conversation (I cannot remember if he was eating them; i believe Stephen told him to stop but I'm not sure) he is having with Stephen. It's interesting in that they are talking about religion and figs, or their leaves, rather, were the chosen form of clothing of the two "original people" who God created first before us all - Adam and Eve. Whether or not Joyce really chose to make the figs a subtle reference to the Genesis story is up in the air, but I do think that it's an interesting and related idea, not to mention kind of cool (in my mind, anyways).

*screeching tires noise*

In regards to the just mentioned tire screech, i felt that way when I read the final section of the novel because it just took a very unexpected turn and odd style change. Well, maybe not odd per se, just very unexpected. I didn't really think that spending over 250 pages on the mindset just to switch to a first-person perspective was a good way to spend the final pages.

That being said, I didn't really feel anything either way towards the end of the book. It ended - that was it. It felt very anti-climactic and I pretty much didn't care where Stephen Dedalus was off to - as an artist or whatever he chose to be. Hopefully he did the knowledgeable thing and joined the circus so he could do what all boys wish to do - tame lions and learn how all those clowns can get into that little car.