Irresistible, Burning, Wild Flames

Wuthering Heights has well earned its place among the many classic masterpieces in this world, and the very reason why that is so is because Emily Bronte came up with a notion that others would more likely believe was incomprehensible: the idea of the burning passions of vengeance sometimes becoming more formidable than the flames of romance.

One of the most common questions in the world is why the idea of revenge is so thrilling to some people. Odysseus, through a well-executed scheme, done away with his wife's vile suitors upon returning home in his magnificent Odyssey. Edmond Dantes, through the agonizing years he spent in the imprisonment of Chateau d'If, quietly schemed his escape and vengeance he would take on those who wrongly imprisoned him without crime, later to become the mysterious Count of Monte Cristo. Romeo Montague, to avenge the silent remains of his good-humored friend Mercutio, slaughtered Tybalt in a fit of what he believed to be righteous anger, only to prove himself wrong soon after, forced to flee, then return to lie down in eternal slumber alongside his lover, where rivaling families find the tragic couple, Romeo and Juliet, silenced by death.

The romantic story between Heathcliff and Catherine is one revered by many, being described as one with unparalleled passion between two kindred souls. One would normally expect both of them to ultimately be joined in marriage. However, as joined as the two may have been, anger-stricken Heathcliff felt far more bound to another passion altogether, and that was vengeance, a passion so strong that he would even go so far as to bring Catherine unparalleled grief when he marries Isabella in response to Cathy's marriage to Edgar.

Naturally, people would believe that the heart of Heathcliff is a twisted, malicious one. However, the way he acts is not so far as any ordinary human would normally feel, by internal nature at least. There is a reason why people feel a need to "get even" when they feel like someone has wronged them, and that is because that in every human heart, there lies a Garden of Eden of malice within each and every one of them. The fruit tastes wonderful, and yet it has a negative effect on the soul.

Of course, no one could (supposedly) take it to the extremes that Heathcliff did. However, perhaps the entire purpose Bronte wrote Wuthering Heights was to provide an exaggerated, complex view of the pleasures of vengeance.

No matter how much people wish to deny it, as with any other dark quality about themselves, it's there, and only those with the strongest of wills have the soul to resist the allure of retaliatory malice.

After all, why do you suppose entertainment such as Call of Duty, Assassin's Creed, and Princess Bride is so popular nowadays?

Incompetent Kings

War: a tragic period of conflict that appears to occur within every single era of time. The real question is, "Why was war born into existence in the first place, and despite everyone's efforts to quell its malicious destruction, why does it still exist?" Some may answer that it is defend freedom, to put food on the table, to provide room for an ever expanding nation, for another nation's plunder.

Out of personal belief, the center of it all is driven by a philosophy so simple that even a child understands what it is, and that is the desire for want.

WANT

The villainous side of that belief is the simplest one of them all; those are the people who wage war for selfish purposes often do it for another nation's goods, for their land, maybe at times for its people. As for the benevolent side, only slightly more complex; those are the people who have something to protect or perhaps a righteous thing to gain: freedom, their families, peace, their homeland.

The bottom line is that war occurs in this world today because both sides want something, whether it is from their enemies or it is something they strive to protect. However, war doesn't just spring up out of nowhere, it requires someone to lead it.

Incompetent Kings

Of course, monarchy is a thing that has largely become obsolete now that what people call "democracy" has now become the popular government, but the politicians today are still largely driven by the same ambitions as would an incompetent king would. Hitler started World War II because of his own belief that his people were the dominant race. In the midst of all those speeches he proclaimed to the people, did he once state a fact that justified his insane ambitions? It's quite obvious the answer to that was no. The result: 60 million lives lost, and a tenth of them were the Jews they degraded to trash. Terrorists started the 9/11 incident, and for what? Because they hated the U.S.'s guts for giving freedom to people? What's not to like about that?

And yet, it is in everybody's homeland where they believe war is justified, and that their leader who charges into the war first is "competent," and that those who fight for a righteous cause as to defend their own belongings are "incompetent."

A challenge to everyone, look at 5 wars of your choice, and judge for yourselves who was the competent side, and who was the incompetent side. Think what you will.

The Beauty Behind the Lack of Beauty

There are too many people in the world who become fooled by the stereotype that all poetry has to be "beautiful" in order for it to be worth reading, or perhaps for it to even be considered poetry at all. The truth behind that is actually that sometimes it is the lack of beauty that actually allows a poem to communicate an even greater emotion within a reader. That in itself is what sets poetry apart from most other forms of literature, whether it's your dystopian novels that provide escapism into a world where a bow, arrows, and a quick reaction time make you a symbol of rebellion and hope, short novels that are riddled with hints that lead to a window into the heart of the author during the time they wrote the novel, or perhaps plays that are occasionally over-dramatized to force the tears out of the corners of people's eyes.

Shakespeare was a man who knew how to communicate the true beauty of "experience" to a reader, even without the beauty that is normally delivered through vivid and emotional adjectives. Of course, that never stopped him from writing Romeo and Juliet, but in the end, it is probably through the variety of methods he used to write literature that he was able to be known as one of the greatest known literary artists in all of history. Through simple concrete details he was able to immerse a reader into the landscape of the English countryside, as known in "Winter," where he is able to communicate a strange sense of pleasantness to the reader in the midst of the harsh cold. The reader is able to feel their warm breath thawing their fingers, smell the roasted apples cooking in the kitchen, and be relieved to know that someone is bringing in wood to make a fire to warm the home.

Given everything, poetry is not always beautiful as readers always expect it to be. However, sometimes it is the lack of beauty that creates an even greater form of beauty that makes poetry so appealing to people, one that gives people a perspective shown through the point of view of someone who actually feels everything currently happening. Through this, readers realize there is more to poetry than roses and pleasant smells described through words. 

Sometimes, it is far better to just feel it for yourself than just trying to read what happens.

Bees and the Blossoms

(Author's Note: If you don't want to take too much time to read this rambling, then go right ahead and skip on down to the 5th paragraph to read the primary topic at hand)

Drawing to a close to Hurston's novel Their Eyes Were Watching God and reviewing it one last time for the test helped to realize some of the most significant qualities of this wonderfully romantic novel in a way no one could have expected it to occur. All it comes back to is the pear tree that Janie stood at towards the beginning of her tale.

One is inclined to think, given a lot of romantic context between the bee and the blossoms, that what Janie had been searching for all along was love with another man. Time and time again she continually seeks out a certain fulfillment her heart had been craving, and time and time again she always thinks that her "ship over the horizon" lied within the presence of another man. Jody's ambitious personality persuaded her that she could have achieved ambitions of her own, but all she finds is pure suppression by his arrogant hands. However, it is by her voice and her strong will that she is able to topple the will of Jody and ultimately bring him to his undignified downfall. Therefore, Jody played an excellent role in the realization of her own desires and what she truly wanted for herself and the kind of "love" that she desired.

Afterwards, it is by Tea Cake's carefree, unconcerned, and accepting attitude toward Janie that further helps her to fully know the passions she had been seeking: independence from the social restraints that held her down. Playin' checkers, goin' nightly fishin', Tea Cake, in a similar manner to Jody, became of great significance to the enlightenment of her spirit, so much so that she could have never killed Tea Cake out of malice for him, but only of the will to defend herself and the newfound liberty her heart was gifted with.

Now, when the story draws to a close, it is certain that she ultimately found the harmonious connection she sought out in the same way a bee makes its way towards a tree blossom. It is easy to presume that it was a romantic connection she had ultimately desired and felt at peace when Janie feels as one with Tea Cake's spirit. However, there is hope within another perspective of such a solemn outcome.

Janie was never the blossom on the tree. She was the bee, given the liberty to fly at its own will, go where it will, and make of her own future as she will. Unconcerned for her own beauty and how other people saw her, she had no need for the vivid colors of a flower. It took a couple "blossoms" for her to pursue: one whose golden tints were valued as the sun, and another whose dark blue hues reflected its own ambitions and power; but, she ultimately found the one she could shower herself with a pleasant aroma whose colors were like those of the sunset where sky meets sea on the horizon, and waiting on it, her ship of the dreams that had been slowly drawn towards her mighty hands. And that dream: a free spirit that could feel independent and unbound wherever she may be. Whenever she was grasped tightly, all it took was the sting of her words filled with resolve to be set loose once more. Unlike all the others, who felt as flowers bound to the earth or to a tree rooted to the ground, she was born with wings to take flight and go where her heart called, prepared to face the world and its ordeals armed with only the strength of her soul.

It's not everyday where people get to realize the strength in their soul and words, and the worthlessness of what people consider to be the proper ideal for the world. Everybody is going to come to a point in their life where they need to make up their mind: to either remain where it stands, showing only its colors in the warmth of day and a barren stem during the harsh freeze of winter, or to become a bee, prepared to risk everything to keep on flying towards their destination.

The bottom line is: there's no need to worry about the opinions and ideals of others when you can remain yourself and keep on flying every inch closer to where you want to be. Make up your mind about where your greater importance lies: within other people's regards about the color of your petals that are soon to fade someday, or with where you want to be and how you choose to confront the world. You'd be surprised how much intimidation one can cause armed with just a mere stinger.

A Wing by Any Other Name Would Look Just as Pure...

Reading from "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings" has done a lot to show some philosophical insight into how human nature is portrayed when confronted with something that appears out of the ordinary in contrast to their daily lives. To have treated a divine being that should have been given spiritual reverence with such indifference and disregard to his own pain appears so contradictory to what one could believe should happen.

Not to bring religion into the discussion, but it does distinctly remind one of the story of Jesus, how He came into this world, and how he was treated. Unlike any other orthodox future king born in the confines of a palace, Jesus was born in a smelly stable meant to feed livestock. Treated with curious reverence by some, then pursued to be killed by King Herod. Then it comes down to His ministry, after having gathered a plethora of followers, to suddenly have most of them turn their backs on him when he stood trial and was crucified on the cross, mocking him as he hung in unimaginable pain. But then arose from the grave in a glory ever so brilliant, then returning from whence He came back into Heaven.

The bottom line is that He appeared as a human, just like anyone else, except for His ability to perform miracles. In comparison to the old man with the wings, his wings were so filthy and littered with "stellar parasites." He appeared to be so human-like, so close to reality, so much so that the doctor who examined him had commented that his wings were so natural that he couldn't explain "why no one else had them." And yet, he wasn't fully human justified by his wings. Rising in brilliance, it wasn't until he floated away when the woman of the house began to see him for the wonder who he was.

All comparisons aside, the story itself kind of displays this surreal, yet ironic, coexistence between the good will of some people, alongside with the cruelty of others. The old man was treated poorly, and yet the couple still felt accountable to him to provide him at least with some degree of shelter. However, he was used by the couple as a sort of exchange for a prosperous flow of money. Pelted, beaten, burned, there was only mockery in wait for him. How could he even decide to still stay with the couple if he endured such pain?

Compassion. I believe it was his intent from the very moment he fell from the heavens to be able to help the couple out of their poverty. He was ridiculed for how natural he appeared to everyone else, yet was never fully human. Despite all such scorn, he stuck around to be exhibited as this extraordinary circus animal, while the couple was able to live the good life through the money they amounted through his presence.

Isn't it easy to agree that many people take for granted the wonders that happen in their lives and the blessings they receive as a result of those wonder? Nearly everything that happens in a life always appears to be ordinary among people. But what if one of those seemingly ordinary things had more extraordinary quality than they first believed? One of the greatest things about ordinary life is that there is always some deeper significance to everything that occurs in it. People ought to be more careful about the things they take for granted and the things they find to be the most precious, valuable, and mysterious to them. It's just one of the many forms of enjoyment and humor that people find in this world.

Therefore, instead of scorning every little thing that happens to be annoyingly ordinary, they should be able to look beyond what it appears to be in turn for its true value and wonder. Who knows, they might just find several "angels" out of the smallest occurrences in their lives.

Can you find your angels?

(Again, not to be religious, but I thought this fit in so well with the story I just had to add it in somewhere)
Hebrews 13:2 (NLT)- "Don't forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it!"

Comfortable Luxury, or Deranged Asylum?

Some people have said before upon reading it for the first time, "The Yellow Wallpaper" carries this ominous atmosphere about it that makes it quite similar to that of a silent horror story. In a certain perspective, they actually presume correct about this, but are only half-correct in their presumption.

The reason why that is said is because too many people presume that is because they are quick to presume that the "figures in the wallpaper" are just mere hauntings of the mansion, like a remnant of malevolence or insanity left behind by its previous inhabitants. Perhaps this was the author's intent in order to establish a more elaborated purpose to her tale than what she lets on. That happens to bring to mind one other very important matter: who do you suppose those previous inhabitants were, in fact? After all, it's not like they didn't leave behind traces of their presence there at the mansion. The biggest example of those traces is the jagged rips in the yellow wallpaper that allow it to flap side to side in the wind. How did those rips get there? The narrator describes them as something left behind from the children who used to play in the nursery.

However, could it have been possible that they weren't just children after all? Could there have been another victim like the narrator imprisoned inside that very room: whose thoughts and bearings were held down by the "love" of the ones that cared for them? Well, the only one who'd know the answer to that question is the author herself.

This can imply, however, that the author was not simply illustrating the pains of her own life, but perhaps the emotional pains of every woman in that time period. It would be no surprise if it were, because back in the time when the author lived, every woman lived under some sense of subordination to their loved ones, and that came with a certain sense of restriction on their own emotions and thoughts.

Companionship is something desirable among every person, which is why they carry so much hope to be able to express their own feelings to another. If that sort of hope was denied to people, how much of a burden could have been put on them as a result of that? It's like being a sheep chained to a stake in the ground, extending only 5 meters outward, surrounded by grass. The sheep will be able to eat within its own bounds, but what happens when all of that is gone? Naturally, there will be some beyond its bounds, and they'll struggle and struggle until their chains are broken where they can finally satisfy themselves for as much as they want.

In the same way, people hunger to express themselves. Denying them the right to express their thoughts and feelings is nothing more than torture to them until the soundness of their hearts withers away. Therefore, only oneself can judge how far they can express themselves. Through this way, people find hope for their future, and the future itself carries change within that hope.

The Snake in the Grass

Everyone has their own weaknesses when it comes to pleasurable desires they know aren't at all beneficial to their well-being. In turn, they devote so much effort to become the person they desire to be, into their own personal hero. However, the human resolve is still so fragile that even the strongest or the most reputable people in the world cannot even resist the strongest of their temptations, whatever they might be. Be it sweets, arrogance, showing that occasional irritant who's boss, everyone has a certain weakness that they put effort into avoiding. But one's will can only go so far before it becomes completely drawn into the snake's coils, and that is the moment when it becomes the point of no return.

"Young Goodman Brown" shows this within a man, an ordinary resident of a Puritan society, well respected by his neighbors, hence his title. And yet, his companion with the snake staff draws him into a forest of shadows, ultimately leading to his shocking revelation that everyone he had known, the priests, the governor, his ancestors, carried an evil within them all. That in itself is temptation that leads to the commitment of evil. Because temptation lies in the heart of every soul, it becomes the evidence that everyone has evil somewhere in their hearts, something that not even the greatest saints could escape.

That evil is never going to leave, and neither will people have the power to banish it from their own hearts. All they can do is continue to build their own resolve, and hope that their faith is stronger than the snake's coils, because just because we are bound to make mistakes on account of temptation doesn't mean we do not have the power to oppose it. Stay true to oneself, and people may find that the heroic image they've been looking for was just right around a corridor in their heart.

How Long Will a Road Last?

Reading "A Worn Path" by Eudora Welty has given me so much insight into the understanding and into a more in-depth comprehension of the true extent of the nature of love.

Phoenix Jackson, an elderly Negro woman, often takes a strenuous journey in order to retrieve medicine for her ailing grandson, who apparently swallowed some lye. To do so, she braves a forest that makes her fearful of its dangers, struggles through bushes that catch her dress, makes her way through a maze of corn, then travels down the simple road leading to her destination. All the while, she hardly ever depended on her eyes to guide her through this trek, only her feet.

It's implied she's made the journey several times before, as one of the clinic workers recognizes her as a habitual visitor for the medicine. In the end of this journey, however, she uses the only two nickels she received in her possession to buy a pinwheel to take back to her grandson. Through her struggles, her determination, and her recurring habit to make the journey several times over, no one can deny the deep love she feels for her grandson.

However, when I heard in class that Welty replied to a letter inquiring about the fate of the grandson, Welty's response was "Phoenix is alive." Putting the pieces together, I realized that the grandson was indeed deceased, and all Phoenix was doing was all for no further benefit to him. But how about for her?

With her grandson dead, Phoenix never had to make such a difficult journey to receive medicine for him. However, her persistence to do so just shows how much her love for her grandson is worth to her, so much so that she have up two nickles for a pinwheel for him when she could have saved the money for herself. Death may have put her grandson to rest, but it is otherwise for her love for him, and remains ever so strongly as if he were alive. It goes to show that nothing could ever shatter true love, not even death itself. Time may cause it to wear, age, and wither in its appearance, but it is an eternal treasure to Phoenix, and her appearance and struggles serve as a remembrance of that love, never ceasing. It is just like a worn path: worn, aged, crumbled, and yet it is still there, which also reminds us of those who first walked that path, and those who built it. Even if it were to be buried under several layers of earth, foliage, or snow, its presence is eternal.

I quote, not word by word, from our class discussion: "Love, like a worn path, is shown to be eternal in its nature, making every effort to brave the trials that awaits it, receiving scars, wearing away, and crumbling like dust, and yet in its quiet solace, it is there, still supporting everything that treads its earth. In fact, the degree to which the path has worn away serves as a true remembrance to its builder that it has bravely overcome both the test of trial and time."

And so, I have a question for everyone who reads:
By the time your final moments draw near, how worn will your path be?

I Traversed the Chilled Desert For You

Every day I dream, dream of an enchanting, bountiful oasis
With fruits of plenty to eat my fill, crystal water to revitalize
Upon dusk, I would stare into the desert sky with starlit laces
Then turning, your glamorous lights could only hypnotize

My feet take flight, once more returning to the night-chilled sand
I give it my all in a hurry, stumbling, falling, then stumbling again
Keeping my eyes to you, hoping to embrace, I reach out my hand
Wait for me, my beloved, I'll be there in a moment soon, as I can

Within few bounds' distance, I hear your call for me, it reaches my ears
I'm nearly there, what could happen now, what need is there for fears?

But in a moment's glance, the shadow of the night takes you, you and your beauty
And what I find, it's quite the cruel parting gift, mundane tea cups, not rose-colored glasses
All I do is just stand here, at our suppose rendezvous, my arranged and committed duty
Chilled by the desert wind, now I can only wonder why I chose you instead of my classes

The narrator of "Araby" is quite the interesting character, paralleling his affections for a girl to a curiosity for an exotic country. However, instead of that exuberant atmosphere of a rambunctious marketplace, there lies only a solemn silence in a dark, deserted square. One reality of life is that love is sometimes, more often than not, cruel when it smacks you in the face with reality when you're wandering around a daydream. Then all that remains is a dejected attitude and regrets over having fallen in love.

Death Before Dishonor

In Japan, one of the biggest and most significant aspects of their culture is their sensitive nature towards the topic of pride and dignity in both oneself and their family. However, pride also just happens to be the last of the seven deadly sins, but also surprisingly the worst of them all. Of course, Japan had not been exposed to such teachings, and thus adapted a form of culture of their own: one that was based solely off the pride of one's own existence and the legacies they leave behind. Thus, the traditional ceremony of suicide by gutting oneself, also known as seppuku, was rooted into its culture. It's no surprise as why pride is often considered the worst of the "deadly" sins, seen especially within Japanese culture.

In Ishiguro's "A Family Supper," the story is introduced with the traditional background of a fish called fugu, which contains a poison in its body that is extremely lethal to those who are not cautious with the gutting procedure of a fish. It then goes on to reveal that the mother of the protagonist of this story, a Japanese boy who had left his parents some time ago, had died a victim of the fugu's poison. Sometime later, it is revealed by Kikuko that her death was no accident, but was of direct intent (suicide) because of concerns that plagued her mind regarding how she raised her son, implying her worries were all a matter of pride. In addition, the father of the family had stated he once served in the war before, but was turned down his chance of joining the air force like he previously desired, all for the sake of being given the opportunity to use the "final weapon," if necessary (Johnson 138). This heavily implies that both parents were victim to the traditional character of Japanese pride, ultimately leading the father to kill his entire family with fugu poisoning.

Japan thinks rather too much about its pride rather than the value of life itself, who believe that when pride is soiled, the only way to remove the blemishes is to send it to oblivion itself. How could one be so willing to take their own life, and all because of some mistakes they have made in their life? In the case of Watanabe, he supposedly saw it as the only form of escape from the shock of the downfall of his corporation. As the son's father described, "He didn't want to live with the disgrace" (Johnson 134). Coincidentally, this has more similarity to how people view suicide today, and that is as a form of the "ultimate escape" from their grievances. People at first try to ease the pain of their troubles by turning to "material pleasures" such as alcohol and drugs, by which they believe provides them comfort in their troubles, but material objects can only last for so long. It wouldn't be long before they considered suicide as their only form of escape, a way to end oneself, and with it, the emotional pains that plague the heart.

In the end, it is how people respond to their troubles, their grievances, and their mistakes, that truly tests how strong their heart is. It becomes the test of their character. There are those who strive to learn from their mistakes, all for the better improvement of oneself. There are those who brush off their troubles as if there was no worry to them at all. And sadly, there are those who just wish to escape from the disgrace of it all through the solemn resolve of ending one's own life. The son had been blind to the pride his parents had been victim to, "it was dark" for him to see any of it, while his father was very aware of their family pride. It probably would have been better if all of the family had been an image of the son and had ignored the pride in their hearts.

If only Japan, in addition to all people who struggle with their conflicts, could see today how much better life would be if they would only learn and realize that mistakes are inevitable, including the large ones, and that they have to move on from them and just strive to obtain a better future rather than dwelling on the past. Doing so, there'd be no need for the pride that is rooted in everyone somehow. Pride would be silent in their hearts, and the rest that remains is hope.