I Guess You Could Stay I'm Marked for Greatness

           Being different isn’t always a bad thing. In all actuality, it’s majority of the time a great thing; it’s what sets one apart from everyone else. Seeing as so many stories are written where the outcast succeeds, or the nerd gets girl, or the brainiac becomes a millionaire, why is it that we still have societal pressures to conform? That’s what I thought a lot about while reading this chapter; how is it that we can’t pick up on the fact that underdog always wins? Beats me. Maybe it’s because it’s easier to see it written out than actually carried out. Well, while reading, I notice that Thomas talked about how an injury or deformity can be a mark for future greatness, and right when I read that I recalled how I broke my foot at the end of my freshman year. I also broke my wrist my sophomore year as well, so technically I am double-destined. Does that mean I am going to be super successful later in life? I hope so. So I guess you should be honored to have me in your class this school year. But in all actuality, if I were a character in some novel, then yes, according to Thomas, I would be marked for greatness.

          I think the best example to support Thomas’ idea of a character being “marked for greatness” is Aang, the Avatar. Avatar: The Last Airbender is, for one, one of the best animated shows that I’ve seen in a very long time, and it also supports everything that Thomas was explaining in this chapter. Aang, being the reincarnate of previous Avatars (persons/spirits capable of bending all the elements), is the most powerful and spiritual person of all the tribes. As the Avatar, Aang has arrows on his head, hands, and feet, almost like scars (just like Harry Potter), but instead of it aching when danger is near, the arrows glow a bright blue light when he enters the Avatar state during combat. This scar sets him aside from everyone else, even those who are capable of bending elements as well, because this tells everyone that Aand, and only Aang, is the Avatar, and he’s the only one who can save the nations. This scar shows that he is marked for greatness, just like Harry Potter, or Richard the III, or anyone else Thomas mentioned in this chapter.

          I wonder, though, how is it that these creepy deformities or scars, or injuries can mark someone as great? I thought they were to be signs or an enemy or a villain, aren’t they? In all the stories i’ve read or seen, the villain never comes out on top (except that one movie, Megamind, with Brad Pitt). So how am I supposed to know if someone is supposed to be evil or be the one who ends up succeeding? I suppose I just have to wait and see what happens at the end of the story.

Why Can't You Just Be Straightforward, Please?

  I don’t hate symbolism, but I can’t really say I like it either. It’s confusing. I like being able to identify symbols, but figuring out what it means, or what the author intended it to mean, can be extremely difficult. As I followed along with the book and took in what Thomas was explaining, I got answers on some questions i’d always had about symbolism and its uses, but at the same time, the extent of detail that Thomas went into about the effects of symbolism has caused me to become even more confused than I had before I read this chapter. If the symbol is created by the author, then doesn’t he have specific meaning he/she wants us to catch on to? If he/she does, why must it be a multitude of meanings? Why does an author hint towards several meanings in a symbol? Why isn’t an author ever straightforward when introducing a symbol? How do you know if what you believe the meaning behind a symbol is right? Does it have to be right? These questions can go on and on and on, and by the way Thomas explained things in this chapter, there is probably a yes and no answer to all of the questions I just listed - which is very confusing.  In literature, it’s not too challenging to detect symbolism. However, attempting to uncover what the symbol represents it such a tedious, and difficult task.  Since reading this chapter, one of my biggest questions is to know whether or not an allegory a type of symbolism, and how can you differentiate the two. In the novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Chief, the main character, has these episodes where he envisions fog consuming him. This fog is present a lot throughout this book and is usually caused by Nurse Ratched.

 When the fog sets in, Chief is entranced with it, losing sense of reality and his frightened emotions. This fog is a symbol for something. For what? For loss of reality? Does it symbolize a sort of mental escape? How can I figure out what it means? I understood what Thomas was saying about using your own knowledge and experiences as well as looking into the text and picking up on clues, but how do you put the pieces together? How about the way Chief describes society as being machines? Is that supposed to mean that those who work and run the ward are just mechanical robots with no morals or feelings? Or does it mean that we as people are made to follow orders, not to have any personal opinions or idea? Or does it mean the patients at the ward turn into machines because of the psychological scarring that the ward puts onto them? Or is it not even symbolism, but a metaphor? And If it’s just one of these meaning that are right, is it considered an allegory, or did Kesey intend for it to mean other things too, and I just can’t figure the others out? There are so many questions to be asked about allegories and symbols, and I think it’s a safe bet to say that sometimes there is no right answer. I wish authors were just straightforward with what they want us to understand. Is that so hard?

When In Doubt, Rain It Out (Literally)

I had never payed much attention to rain when reading a book; I always assumed it was just a mere setting detail and nothing more. Now looking back, I see it has a lot more to do with the story being told and the characters being affected. It’s interesting how weather can determine the fate of a person, and the same weather can mean a variety of symbols. Rain can symbolize clarity and rebirth, but also depression and death, while snow or fog can give off an eerie sort of vibe (like in Misery, the Stephen King novel turned Kathy Bates horror flick).
Rain appears in novels and films countless of times. Sometimes it’s for a purpose, and other times it’s just what I originally thought it was for - just detail. However, when it is for a purpose, a lot can come from story weather. I suppose it this isn’t the example you'd prefer, but I think the film Clueless very well fits what Thomas was trying to get across when he explained rain and its impact. In the film, the main character, Cher, is a very rich, naive, and extremely clueless teenager who decides, one day, to take a new student, Tai, under her wing. After turning Tai from a nobody into almost an exact clone of herself, Cher is startled when Tai confesses that she has feelings for Cher’s ex-step brother, Josh. After getting angry with Tai for telling the truth, Cher is confused about her feelings and her reasoning for getting so upset, so she leaves her home to take a walk in attempt to make sense of everything. Taking a long stroll through the neighborhood to clear her head, Cher contemplates her dilemmas that she has faced throughout the film. After having a failed relationship with an obviously-homosexual-to-everyone-except-Cher student, she questions love, her emotions, and the meaning to everything she has done in the past year. After finishing her walk through the city (and stopping for some retail therapy along the way), Cher makes her way back home. As she walks through her front yard, she begins asking herself a multitude of questions until she comes to the conclusion that she, herself, is in love with Josh (which is kind of gross, seeing as he is her ex-step brother and all). Right when she has this thought, Cher stands in front of the large fountain in her front yard as water begins to shoot out and the lights from the fountain glow behind her. In this scenario, the fountain acts as the rain. She was literally "clueless" and lost, but once the fountain turns on and lights up, displaying a rain-like effect almost, she gains clearness and coherence from her convoluted thought. I don't think it gets any clearer than that.
Personally I have never made any life-changing decisions or any sort of re-awaking while standing in the rain, but I guess I see how it could produce such an effect on us. Like Thomas said, water and its impression on us dates back to as far as we can understand, so really, rain and water speak to us on the most personal level there is.