The Dichotomy of Womanhood: Restraint or Interconnectedness

Thanksgiving—a holiday of feasting and family gathering. In my house, it’s also the weekend when we put up the Christmas tree and pull out that box of holiday cards. This is the time of year when we often follow the traditions instilled by our parents or establish new ones for our children. It’s a season that embraces gratitude for interconnectedness.

Perhaps it also has the power to color a master’s thesis. Although, it was a national holiday, a graduate student never sleeps. Well ok, I did get some sleep. But while I slept, visions of Cixous danced in my head.

While reading this weekend I came across this passage:

For “woman,” well imprinted with the sociocultural heritage, has been inculcated with the spirit of “restraint.” She is in fact “restraint” itself, socially. (Or, if you wish, the repressed, the controlled one.) She restrains herself, and is restrained, by a thousand bonds, hitched, conjugated, strings, chains, nets, leash, feeding dish, network of servile, reassuring dependencies. She is defined by her connections, wife of, as she was daughter of, from hand to hand, from bed to niche, from niche to household, woman as the complement-of-a-name has much to do to cut free.(Cixous 39)

In the margins I wrote, “independence vs. dependence—individual vs. communal?”

I understand Cixous argument. I often make Cixous argument. I insist on being defined by my own accomplishments, given the opportunity to establish my own identity. And though I did not realize it for most of my life, I was blessed by being (for most of my childhood) the only child of a single mother. Just as I was not defined as daughter of, I do not feel I am defined as wife of. My mother encouraged my independence; my options limited only by my imagination. I recognize now, that is why I have such a raging sense of self, why I have lived my life with almost a complete lack of restraint.

I will belay my tirade on how society still condemns such independent, self-defining women (usually with the singular term ‘Bitch’) and move on to the irony of independence.

Growing up without the excessive bonds, strings, and chains of “reassuring dependencies,” it was easy for me to identify with the masculine. This is what Maureen Murdock calls The Father Quest (The Heroine’s Journey):

During the second stage of the heroine’s journey a woman wishes to identify with the masculine . . . She puts on her armor, mounts her modern day steed, leaves loved ones behind, and goes in search of the golden treasure. She fine-tunes the skills of logos. She looks for clearly defined routes to success. She sees the male world as healthy, fun-loving, and action-oriented. Men get things done. This fuels her ambition. (Murdock 36)

But all of this ambition and independence often fuels competition and isolation. In our frustration, have we overlooked the benefits of interconnectedness? We’ve created a society in which women, as well as men, must be taught how to develop and maintain personal relationships in corporate workshops.

Perhaps, defining ourselves by our connections is an inherent strength of womanhood . . . if we are the ones doing the defining. When I wrote my personal mission statement two years ago, I was careful to include all of my roles: wife, mother, daughter (among others). . . roles that I seek to strengthen not to obliterate. In gaining certain “freedoms,” women are now free to redefine old relationships in new ways—viewing our multiple roles as a part of a network of reassuring interdependencies.
Works Cited

Cixous, Hélène. “Coming to Writing” and Other Essays. Ed. Deborah Jenson. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1991.

Murdock, Maureen. The Heroine’s Journey. Boston: Shambhala, 1990.

Are You an Active or Passive Reader?

I attended a variety of churches when I was a child: Catholic, Protestant, Nazarene, Baptist . . . and each had its own view on ‘the Word,’ ‘the Book,’ ‘the Gospel,’ the collection known as The Bible. Of all the experiences I had in those congregations, there is one that stands out in my mind, and it’s probably not one you would imagine.

One day, the esteemed leader of one of these denominations took a look at my crisp clean bible and asked, “Do you read this?”

“Yes, of course,” I responded.

“Then why does it look so new. Don’t be afraid to use it, really use it. Highlight passages that speak to you. Scribble notes in the margin. Bookmark pages.”

It was a revolutionary idea to a young girl. God was in the authorship, not in the binding. I was instructed to root around for meaning, for knowledge. The book I held in my hand was merely paper and ink. It was the philosophy, the ideas expressed on those pages that held true power.

To this day, I still highlight, scribble and bookmark everything I read. Nothing is sacred. As I read the essay “Coming to Writing” by Helen Cixous, I find a kindred spirit. For her, reading was an act of creation. The creation of meaning:

“Reading: writing the ten thousand pages of every page, bringing them to light. Grow and multiply and the page will multiply. But that means reading: making love to the text.”

Making love to a text is an interesting analogy. It begs the question “was it good for you?” If not, were you really into it or did you just lay back and wait for something astounding to happen. Are you being an active reader, or a passive reader? Are you afraid to defile the printed page or do you interact with it like the body of an intimate lover?

One of the keys to critical thinking is recognizing that letters clumped together in words, and words strung together on a page are still nothing more than ink and paper. We are the ones giving those words meaning. What we bring to a text will influence what we get out of it. As we grow, so does meaning—highlight, scribble, and bookmark. Nothing is sacred.

Author Interview: Nina Munteanu

Welcome back everyone! If you read my review of Nina Munteanu’s latest work Darwin’s Paradox, you know how much I appreciated the symbolism laced throughout this new eco-thriller. Today, Ms. Munteanu is here to answer some questions about the metaphoric content found in the book.

TA: I have to admit, although speculative fiction is a guilty pleasure of mine, it has been a while since I’ve actually had the chance to read any. Although I was prepared for the technical language and scientific theory, I was pleasantly surprised by the level of literary allusion, symbolism, and metaphor found throughout Darwin’s Paradox. I notice that names appropriately reference a French Utopian movement, a British social movement, and Greek mythology, but I was intrigued by your choice to name your antagonist Gaia. Considering her objective in the story, I was wondering why you chose to name her after an ancient earth goddess.

NM: Well, without wishing to give away any spoilers, part of the answer lies in that character’s own vision of herself (e.g., she gave herself that name) as an all powerful (and benevolent) goddess. She doesn’t really see herself as a villain in her own story. In truth, this character is very much in tune with the planet and what’s happening. In the end, we find that she is the one who has guessed the truth all along. It’s just how she applies what she knows that is rather dubious and underhanded. So, I played with the whole good vs evil thing here. Giving the “villain” a name that basically stands for all that is good and nurturing in the world also points out that every person, no matter how bad, has good in them; that even a “villain” is a well rounded, complex person with some meritorious traits. In the end, if you think about it, she does end up triggering some good things. And it also points out that most villains don’t see themselves as villains. I needed to create a powerful, charismatic and intelligent antagonist as a foil for the main character; someone you would be drawn to; someone alluring yet dangerous and deadly. The antagonist needed a name that would reflect her paradoxical, well-meaning yet self-serving character. Hence, the paradox in her name. “Darwin” is full of paradoxes like that.

TA: Yes, I noticed the repetition of the word paradox to describe a number of people and situations throughout the novel. There is a definite sense of dualism. Forces are not only in opposition but interconnected. If I recall correctly, that is the basis of the chaos theory referenced throughout the book correct?

NM: Yes…chaos theory embraces paradox. Aspects of it, like synchrony and self-organization defy the second law of thermodynamics. Evolution through cooperation vs. the neo-Darwininan concept of the “selfish gene” and evolution by competition ( e.g., survival of the fittest) is another posit that defies traditional definitive science. The stuff Lynn Margulis talked about decades ago with endosymbiosis. We live with paradox all the time, in our lives. We just don’t realize it often, and certainly don’t embrace it most of the time. Biology is full of it. It’s messy, complex and in some ways not understandable. The title of my book encompasses many aspects of paradox, from the main character down to the concept of evolution. I like inter-layering themes in my stories. Makes them more interesting–and meaningful–for me and hopefully for the reader.

TA: WOW! That’s a lot of science for a literature major like myself, but I understand the basic concept. During the Victorian and Modern periods, Darwin became quite a “pop icon,” and heavily influenced literature and society in general. Today, the phrase “survival of the fittest” seems to carry as much weight as the proverb “Do unto others.” The idea of cooperative evolution is definitely a fresh perspective, and one of the elements I enjoyed in your book, which brings me to the governing body–the Circle. Interesting concept. Would you like to tell us more about it?

NM: Well, it’s basically the governing body of North America, which now encompasses Canada and the United Stares, and includes as its members the mayors of each self-contained megalopolis or Icaria, as they are called ( e.g., Icaria-1, Icaria-2, etc.). That name, of course has its own symbology (. . . wry grin). The Circle runs on consensus; that is, in order for a decision to be ratified, ALL members must agree in one form or another. The Circle as symbol is an interesting one and I didn’t choose it whimsically either to represent the arcane governing body of Icaria. Like the “mandala” of ancient times, the “circle” is a basic structure of creation and can be found throughout the natural world from the tiniest atom to our beloved planet Earth. There is something beautiful and sacred about this shape, that represents wholeness, infinity and eternity. So, just like our “villain” paradoxically giving herself the name of Gaia (rightly AND wrongly), the government, responsible in some ways for the escalating environmental problem, gave itself a name that also seemed paradoxical. Yet, the paradox reconciles with itself in the end.

TA: I see. The fact that all members must agree with a decision once again points to a cooperative rather than a competitive existence. It sounds a lot like a Native American ideology. Did the Iroquois Nation serve as a model for the Circle in any way?

NM: I don’t think they did consciously for me when I conceived it. But it’s interesting that you mention them. It does very much resemble their model, doesn’t it? Including the name, “the Circle”… that’s how they arrange themselves during their council meetings. And the Native American teepee is a conical shape built around a pole that represents the “axis mundi” or world axis…another “mandala” or circle… I honestly didn’t think of this until now. Which brings to mind how intuitive writing is, which is wonderful. Intuition is seeing the “truth” without having all the facts. When a writer reports the “truth” through metaphor, symbology, or imagery (often unknowingly; often intuitively), they are tapping into something much larger than themselves. They are resonating with an autopoietic tapestry of thought, energy–call it what you want…a muse–some might call it God–that guides the writer. We all have felt it as writers…when that certain scene just sings to us, or the hairs on the back of our neck stand up at a phrase or action in what we’ve just set down on paper or screen. Oh…but I’ve probably slid off topic with this, Tricia.

TA: No, I think you are most definitely on subject. As writers, symbolism is not merely something we choose, but something that chooses us—the cultural and environmental awareness that is embedded in the back of our psyche. The evolving meaning of symbolism in literature is a testament to this cooperative evolution featured in Darwin’s Paradox. Writers take traditional meaning and infuse them with ideas of their own. Of course, now that we’re discussing conscious and sub-conscious symbolism, I’m curious about the derogatory comments made about both the protagonist and the antagonist. At various times throughout the novel they are both referred to as witches. Although it doesn’t carry the linguistic taboo of other female derogatories, it is filled with historical and religious connotations. Was that symbolism intentional or another “Freudian” slip?
NM: WOW! Really? I wasn’t aware of that, Tricia. I guess that was another Freudian slip. But now that you’ve brought it up, I’ve read a fair bit lately about the history and phenomenon of “witches”. It’s a concept I explore in my current novel, in fact…the one I’m writing now, which takes place in medieval times. I find the whole concept of witches compelling. How women with power and intelligence were branded by a basically patriarchal society (mostly the Church) who obviously felt threatened…and rightly so, I suppose…They feared being supplanted. Which is exactly what is happening today… (LOL)…The two main characters, protagonist and antagonist, are women, and both are women with power. Julie possesses a gift for transforming an entire world. Gaia possesses hidden knowledge that could do the same. Transformation…Sacred knowledge…These are elements fiercely guarded by a patriarchal power and also the purview of the “witch”. So, yes…though it was unintentional, my reference to witches, particularly for these two main characters, certainly makes sense. Thanks for pointing it out!

TA: Yes, there’s almost a trilogy of female power in the book between Gaia, Julia, and Julia’s daughter Angel. What motivated you to write an eco-thriller in which women represent the proactive force in the novel?

NM: Well, the thought behind that…even though again it likely wasn’t a conscious one…is that our life-force, the energy of our planet is decidedly female: Mother Earth; the goddess Gaia, etc. It’s only fitting to have the drama of our co-evolution on this planet is played out by strong female characters, who each in her own way embodies the life-force of our beloved planet Earth: 1) Gaia, of course, representing the powerful goddess of Earth herself, the character wishing to orchestrate evolution from her supposedly wise point of view; 2) Angel, Julie’s daughter, who embraces the natural world like a child of nature, and who brings a simple yet elegant sense of natural ecology to problem solving that even her own parents don’t come up with; and 3) Julie, the main character, who, of course as Darwin’s Paradox bridges the dichotomies of the opposing worlds of Icaria and the wilderness in both horrific and wonderful ways that will translate into something quite spectacular for the human race.

TA: Darwin’s Paradox tells a very simple story (the need for balance) in a very exciting way (the eco thriller). Can you tell us a little bit about your process? How do you transform an idea into a novel?

NM: WOW! I like how you said that! I’m glad you called it simple because I strive for that: simplicity. It’s also a large part of what makes up balance, I think. I think doing one achieves the other. Which leads me to your next question, about how my ideas get transformed into stories. That too is a balance, a balance between my conscious, often scientific and rational mind and my unconscious intuitive thoughts…My muse, I suppose. I’m a scientist, Tricia. What that means is that I’ve been trained to think in a certain way, to look for proof of reality. At the same time the other part of me, the part that always wanted to be a paper back writer muses not on the question of proving it but what it means. That’s where the novel comes in. It’s one thing to have a great idea; it’s another to translate it into a story that has resonance. The idea is the premise, the what if, which is usually carried by the plot. In Darwin it would be the question of what would happen if an intelligent virus joined with an intelligent machine. But a good story isn’t just an idea. The story has to take that idea and apply it to an issue, usually carried by the main protagonist. The issue could be healing and forgiveness or control and letting go, or trust…and so on. In great stories the premise/plot and theme/issue(s) resonate both directly and metaphorically to produce a multilayered story arc that is seamlessly intertwined. Hopefully I achieved a little bit of that with Darwin’s Paradox… (silly grin).

TA: Interesting response, Nina. In The Heroine’s Journey, Maureen Murdock sites the ‘integration of the masculine and feminine’ (the rational and the intuitive) as the ultimate goal in the woman’s quest for wholeness. It is a paraodx that brings balance and unity. Before I ask you my final question, I’ld like to thank you for your time and the insights you’ve shared with us today. As a writer who is deeply concerned about the messages embedded in writing, what advice would you give your fellow authors? As a mentor to aspiring women writers, what is the most important lesson you would like to share with them?

NM: First, you’re very welcome, Tricia. And my thanks to you for doing this interview. I really enjoyed your questions. Well, this last question is very interesting and rather wonderfully timed. I just finished giving a seminar to a class of 17-year old girls interesting in writing at the University of British Columbia and my single piece of advice to them is to find what they are passionate about and write about that. Find your passion. Everything will come from that. With passion comes the courage to write from the heart, even if it is subversive–especially if it is subversive. With courage comes faith in oneself, and the ability to surmount all the obstacles that come your way (like all those rejections you are sure to get; I still get them!). With faith comes perseverence in the project you are pursuing (including all those rejections…LOL). And with perseverence comes success. Only passion will sustain the journey. It fuels the writer’s drive to be inspired, tap the muse, and the motivation to learn her craft and the tools she will require in her career. We need more women writers in the SF genre, Tricia, so I hope this helps. Now, I’ve just opened another topic, but perhaps we’ll leave that for another time.

If you would like to read more about Ms. Munteanu’s new book, you can find excerpts and book tour dates at darwinsparadox.com and if you’ld like to read more of Ms. Munteanu’s work, check out her blog, The Alien Next Door.

Book Review: Darwin’s Paradox

Munteanu, Nina. Darwin’s Paradox. Dragon Moon Press. 320 p. ISBN-10 189694468X (ISBN-13 9781896944685) $19.95

If you read the acknowledgements at the front of Nina Munteanu’s latest book, you’ll realize Darwin’s Pradox is more than just a fast paced eco-thriller. Among others she thanks her high school English teacher, A.E. Whittal, for teaching her “the importance of metaphoric writing.”

The Victor Frankl quote at the front of the book, “What is to give light must endure burning,” is the first indication of the numerous paradoxical references you’ll find throughout the book, as Munteanu sets the stage for a story on the verge of transcending its genre.

In Darwin’s Paradox, Julie Crane is civilization’s darkest pariah and only hope. The alpha patient who carries a highly evolved virus, she is blamed with the death of thousands and the murder of law enforcement officials who tried to detain her.

We first meet Crane in the wilderness where she ekes out an existence with her husband and daughter. However, her reoccurring nightmares and the desire to protect her family agitate her growing sense of restlessness. When her highly evolved senses warn her that they are being followed, watched, perhaps even hunted, Crane decides she has no choice but to face the past.

Returning to a populous devastated by the virus that still resides deep within her, Crane finds a civilization struggling in the grip of a new uprising. Proteus is not a passive virus but an intelligent one, and it has joined forces with the ‘artificial’ intelligence that keeps the city running. In order to save her family, Crane must join forces with the manipulative individuals who ruined her life.

Like any ambitious eco-thriller, there is a lot of science underscoring the plot, but Munteanu does a great job of breaking it down into bite size portions that even the uninitiated can swallow.

The page turning pace subtly weaves expositional elements through a storyline propelled by action and mystery. Blurring the line between good and evil, Munteanu creates characters as paradoxical as the storyline itself.

Darwin’s Paradox also boasts a cast of exceptionally strong and complex women whose relationships intertwine and evolve like the deadly virus that binds them together. From the chair of the governing body, to Julie’s daughter, each of these characters serve pivotal roles throughout the book.

To give it depth, Munteanu has built her eco-thriller on a solid foundation of natural philosophy and symbolic allusions that meld pulp fiction with literary sensibilities. In doing so, Darwin’s Paradox delivers a story that is both entertaining and metaphoric, creating a layered effect that will engage even finicky readers.

Allusions to the French utopian movement founded by Etienne Cabet and the 19th century anti-industrial movement in Great Britian, underscore the conflict between nature and technology, while references to cooperative rather than competitive evolution hints at possible resolution.

Munteanu’s vision of the future is both frightening and inspiring, embracing the dark/light dichotomy dominating Darwin’s Paradox. Icaria’s vee-set wearing society, with their mechanical movements and vacant stares, resembles the disconnected iPod population of today. The contrast between the sterile environments of glass towers and the rubble of the inner city mirrors our own growing economic tensions. But just as Prometheus stole fire from Zeus and gave it to mortal man, Julia Crane carries the key that can transform civilization as we know it.

Darwin’s Paradox is a fascinating look into the future where man ceases his attempt to subjugate nature, while embracing its ability to adapt.

Darwin’s Paradox is on sale now at leading bookstores and at amazon.com. Visit us tomorrow for a one on one interview with the author, Nina Munteanu.

Feminism and SF: Reading with a Critical Eye

When I first started blogging back in May, my meanderings across the web lead me to Feminist SF—The Blog, a blog that questions the representation of women in Science Fiction.

Sci-Fi (or perhaps its now being called Speculative Fiction) is one of my guilty pleasures. Why is it my ‘guilty’ pleasure? Well as an English major, not many SF titles fall into academic reading, so anytime I read SF it’s purely self-indulgence. Since I often approach SF with an escapist frame of mind, I’ve never really looked at it with a critical eye before; much less explore the representation of women within the genre.

I have the ladies over at Feminist SF for raising my awareness. Armed with this new perspective, I was intrigued by excerpts of Nina Munteanu’s new novel, Darwin’s Paradox.

I discovered Ms. Munteanu’s blog, The Alien Next Door, about the same time I discovered Feminist SF. Her blog demonstrates a passion for science, the environment, and for the evolution of a cooperative coexistence, a combination I found quite captivating.

Munteanu’s most recent SF book, Darwin’s Paradox, incorporates all of these elements along with strong female characters, as the excerpts found on darwinsparadox.com illustrate.

Having just finished Darwin’s Paradox, I would be interested in hearing what the women over at Feminist SF think of it. Tomorrow (Monday, November 19), I will be posting my review of the book, followed by an interview with the author on Tuesday.

Podcasts: Literary News and Publication Buzz

 

Ooops. Sorry I fell into the black hole of my master’s thesis again. Right now I’m on a grueling reading schedule that is making it difficult to find a little writing time. All of this academic reading also makes it difficult to keep up with current literary news. If it wasn’t for the occasional tidbits I glean from wordsy.com, I’d have no idea what was going on in the publishing world.

 

In fact, listening to the weekly Wordsy podcast really opened my eyes to everything I’m missing. While downloading their recent podcast on iTunes, I decided to search for other book related podcasts. What I discovered was a bibliophiles dream.

Almost everyone is podcasting, from Havard University Press to The New Yorker. (Well, now I’m really glad Hans gave me the chance to get that first interview under my belt.) Even iTunes produces a “Meet the Author” podcast.  

Since I have an iPod, I download my favorite podcasts through the iTunes store and I can take them with me. Subscribing is not only easy, it’s free. Now I can stay on top of all of the latest reviews and interviews without adding to my already over-taxed reading list. Don’t worry, you don’t need an iTunes account or an MP3 player, you can also access the podcasts directly from the producer’s website.

 

As always, I wanted to share this little discovery with my readers. Perhaps many of you already know about them, but if you’re as clueless as I was, well then, I present some of my favorites with a little bow on top. Yes, they are that good:

 

Harvard University Press: Off the Page with . . .

The New Yorker: Fiction

NPR: Book Tour

Princeton University Press Podcasts

Washington Post Book World

BBC World Book Club

 

Enjoy!

Creative Circles: Picasso, Matisse, Stein and Hemingway

If you study art history or literature, then I am sure you have noticed an interesting reoccurance: the creative circle. Study any period and you will find like-minded individuals gathering together, later becoming the creative force of their generation. While studying modernism, I recently made the following observation that I thought I would share with you. After reading this little piece and how these individuals influenced each other, ask yourself, “who’s in my creative circle?” If you don’t have one, build one. You have a lot to learn from, and contribute to, the creative lives of others.

Thanks to Gertrude Stein and her brother Leo, 27 Rue de Fleurus was the hub of modernist art and literature from 1903 – 1914. Steins Parisian address became a gathering spot for painters like Picasso and Matisse, as well as expatriate writers like Hemingway. The influence of this creative atmosphere is evident in the cross germination of ideas found in the works of those who passed through 27 Rue de Fleurus.  

When comparing the works of Stein and Hemingway, one can see the influences of Picasso and Matisse respectively. During her residence at 27 Rue de Fleurus, Stein began to experiment with a technique known as “verbal collage,” as evident in her collection Tender Buttons. It was also a period in which Hemingway began to utilize the “iceberg technique.”   Both of these writing techniques mirrored artistic movements of the period. 

Stein’s “Picasso” is an example of this “verbal collage.” Utilizing a few primary words and images, Stein arranges and rearranges them to create linguistic texture. Stein was interested in word association and sound, cutting and pasting syntax together to create works that mirrored Picasso’s Collage Phase.  According to American Poet Judy Grahn, Stein’s work during this period focused on six elements:

1. Commonality
2. Essence
3. Value
4. Grounding the continuous present\
5. Play
6. Transformation

 In “Picasso,” Stein manipulates nouns like “one,” “something,” and “meaning” as well as verbs like “following,” “working,” and phrases like “coming out of” to create juxtaposing images just as Picasso did with his cubist collage. In fact, Stein breaks from her pattern of rearrange these words only long enough to expose the true nature and intent of cubist collage: 

This one was always having something that was coming out of this one that was a solid thing, a charming thing, a simple thing, a clear thing, a complicated thing, an interesting thing, a disturbing thing, a repellant thing, a very pretty thing. 

In this sentence Stein captures the reaction of those viewed collage, on canvas and on paper. Cubist collage was an attempt to capture reality from all angels at once, to represent three dimensions on a two dimensional surface. It was an art form that had the effect of being both charming and simple, and complicated and disturbing.Hemingway, on the other hand, seems to have taken his artistic inspiration from Matisse. Matisse and Picasso were both friends and rivals. One of the distinguishing aspects of their work can be found in the source of their inspiration. Picasso worked mainly from his own imagination while Matisse drew his inspiration from nature. The same distinction can be made between Stein’s “Picasso” and Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants.”  

While “Picasso” utilizes the abstract sound and meaning of language to create an impact on the reader, “Hills Like White Elephants” uses setting and interpersonal dialogue to create an impression.  

During the period of Gertrude Stein’s Paris salon, Matisse favored bright colors, flat shapes, and controlled lines, in a style that was expressive but lacking in detail. This is a description that could also be applied to Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants.”  

Hemingway opens the story with a description of the natural surroundings: “The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this side there was no shade and no trees . . .” (Hemingway 613). From this description, the reader visualizes a sweeping block of color. The later comparison to white elephants is very expressive, but still lacks detail.  

Even the conversation is expressive yet controlled as the two main characters discuss the very controversial topic of abortion, while avoiding the word, the details of the operation, the baby, or their relationship. Like his descriptions of the landscape, Hemingway’s dialogue merely focuses on blocks of color:

The girl looked at the bead curtain. “They’ve painted something on it,” she said. “What does it say?”

“Anis del Toro. It’s a drink.”“Could we try it?”

The man called “Listen” through the curtain. The woman came out from the bar.

“Four reales.”

“We want two Anis del Toro.”

“With water?”

“Do you want it with water?”

“I don’t know,” the girl said. “Is it good with water?”

“It’s alright.”

“You want them with water?” asked the woman.

“Yes, with water.”

“It tastes like licorice,” the girl said and put the glass down.

“That’s the way with everything.”

“Yes,” said the girl. “Everything tastes like licorice. Especially all the things you’ve waited so long for, like absinthe.”

(Hemingway 614)

On the surface this dialogue creates a sweeping visual of two individuals ordering drinks. Note that Hemingway leaves out the detail of the waitress going back inside the bar and returning with the drinks. The dialogue moves from her confirmation that they do indeed want water to the girl drinking the Anis. It is also important to note that absinthe was a drink writers and artists associated with romance. This gives the dialogue new meaning that is not evident on the surface. The exchange emphasizes the experience of the man and the inexperience of the girl. It is also significant that the couple waters down the Anis, giving an indication of the nature of their relationship. The girls agreement that all things initially taste like licorice (especially when you wait a long time for it) indicates the awareness that this initial thrill does indeed dull.  Works Cited: Grahn, Judy, ed. Really Reading Gertrude Stein: A Selected Anthology with Essays by Judy Grahn (Crossing Press, 1989). Hemingway, Ernest. “Hills Like White Elephants.” The Norton Anthology of Short Fiction. Ed. R.V. Cassill. New York. W.W. Norton & Company. 1981. 

Stein, Gertrude. “Picasso.” Portraits and Prayers. New York: Random House, 1934.

Whatever Happened to the Welcome Wagon?

Remember when we use to introduce ourselves to the new neighbors, bringing them a fruit basket, wine or cake. It was a nice welcome to the neighborhood and a great way to build a sense of community.

Welcoming others is a dying art form, becoming the exception to the rule. There are a lot of excuses why. Some say they are too busy, that they don’t want to impose, or they’re just too shy, but I suspect the real issue is much deeper: the fear of commitment.

Welcoming others into our community is an invitation to become involved, not only with the community but with our individual lives. Welcoming someone into our community says, “if you need anything, I’m here.” Maybe that’s what people are really afraid of, that someone might actually take them up on their offer; that someone might knock on the door when it’s inconvenient. That’s always a possibility, but what have we lost in the course of this self-imposed isolation?

Remember when all of the neighborhood kids use to play together. Everyone knew your children and you knew theirs. They would play until dusk, when they had to be called into the house for supper. Vandalism and bullying was nipped in the bud and immediately reported to parents.

Remember when drivers would wave you through a four way stop or leave room for you to make a lane change. We were part of a driving community, not a pack of road raging adversaries. The goal was to make sure everyone got were they needed to go safely, to be courteous and respectful; not to shave off a couple seconds of driving time.

Remember when we stepped in to help one another during times of need. Now we witness the stunned faces of clueless neighbors when tragedy strikes. They never knew. They never would have suspected. But did they ever try. Did they reach out and say, “Welcome! I’m your neighbor. Feel free to knock on my door if you ever need anything.”

Being part of a community is a commitment, but it does have its benefits. The key is building relationships before you need them. So give it a try. Go introduce yourself to your neighbors, even if they’ve been living there for years. Try hanging a little gift bag on their door or mailing them a holiday card addressed to your “Dear Neighbor.” Sure they might be a little skeptical at first, but building a community is like any relationship, it takes a little work. The reward, on the other hand, is a richer life full of connections.

Site Revisions–Disregard feeds Nov 3-4

Due to upgrades in the WordPress tagging system, I will be updating all of the former posts in order to enhance SEO and make Modern Matriarch more user friendly. I apologize to our regular subscribers if these revisions should cause mass emailings. I will work around the clock in an attempt to complete the project this weekend. Thank you for your patience while we grow.

Wordsy Asks “Why do You Blog?”: Podcast Interview

My regular readers know how much I love Wordsy. It’s the Digg of the literary world. Their tag line reads “We love Books,” but you might not know that they love blogs, too. Many of the Wordsy contributors are bloggers as well, so when Wordsy began podcasting, Hans decided to reach out to the Wordsy bloggers and get the stories behind the screen names.

I was thrilled when Hans contacted me about an interview. I enjoy his witty banter with Richard during the regular weekly podcast (they discuss the latest literary news posted in the Wordsy community), so I was excited to have the opportunity to work with Hans myself.

First interviews are always nerve racking, but Hans makes the process painless. Despite early technical difficulties (and a little time zone confusion), our final interview went off without a hitch. Well almost. Due to rescheduling, my three year old was at home instead of the park with her Daddy as planned, so I’m afraid I had to step away from the mic for minute.

Unfortunately, I was distracted during my response to the question “So what are you reading now?” You will hear me mention a speculative fiction book by Nina Munteanu (which should be pronounce Mun-te-ānew, by the way, sorry Nina). It was at this point that my daughter yells “Mooooomy”. Dooh.

Anyway, Hans (being forewarned about the possible interruption) kept the podcast rolling along. So smoothly in fact, I completely forgot about mentioning the TITLE of the book I was reading: Darwin’s Paradox.

Darwin’s Paradox is a fast paced eco-thriller. I was intrigued by the strong female characters and the cooperative philosophies underscoring the action-adventure, so Nina was kind enough to let me have an advanced peek of the book (Due to be released November 15th). You’ll learn more about the book and author in an upcoming review and interview, where I will get to ask the questions.

Aside from this little ‘book plug that never was,’ my first podcast interview went well. I’m glad I had the opportunity to get my feet wet over at Wordsy, where Hans really cares about his community. If you stop by Wordsy to hear my interview, or any of the other thought provoking podcasts, leave a review at the itunes store (where you can also download their entire podcast library for free). They’d love to hear what you think.