The True Want for Happiness

            I just finished the book "The Lady in the Car with the Glasses and a Gun." The book, while somewhat stodgy at first, turned into a delicious thriller with twists and turns so sudden that it was almost impossible to see them coming and an ending that both satiated and hungry the reader. When I last left Dany Longo she had been mysteriously attacked, but that was all that was wrong. But we learn that was only a chip of the iceberg that was her problems on the journey. It seems that wherever Dany goes, people believe they have seen her before, that she has already visited all of the places she's been: the gas station, the Renaissance hotel: the beach: even the cafe she stopped to get an espresso at. But that's not all, Dany opens the trunk to find a dead body of a notorious womanizer of Paris wrapped in a rug and deposited with a gun. Dany attempts to solve the mystery of the man's murder and her apparent escapades about France. When she stumbles upon the answer, her boss attempts to kill her and it is revealed that is was he and his wife who killed the man and attempted to pin it on Dany, so convincingly that Dany believes she did it. Dany hears his story, leaves and gets married to a man in England.
                 The ending seemed strange to me, after all of Dany's adventures, her mental instability and mania: her constant desire to be on her own, how could she just settle down and marry someone? How could her weekend of paranoia and thrills not affect her? But then I realized that the trip was what Dany needed to move on from her "just there" state of being perennially worried for no reason. The trip's insanity was the climax of her madness, the thing that pushed her to the edge. If she had submitted to the mystery and accepted her apparent guilt for the murder and hide the body away, she never would have moved on from the horrible monotony her life held before. By solving the mystery she took an active role against being the victim of circumstance as she had before (her parents death, her lack of funds, her lack of love) and her life turned out much differently. This led her to happiness in the end, as she passed the test of being passive and lacking any zeal for life (as she had been) or being actively involved in her life, not just accepting what was given.
               To conclude, in order for Dany to settle down, and be seemingly "normal." She had to confront the thing about herself that was holding herself back in a finite and important way. She was tested on whether she truly wanted to be happy and, passing this, got everything she wanted.

Symbolism in "The Lady in the Car with the Glasses and a Gun"

           Currently I am halfway through the tantalizing yet somehow dreary book that is, "The Lady in the Car with the Glasses and a Gun." The book takes place sometime in the mid 1900s, in France. The book begins in Paris France, and follows "The Lady" or Dany Longo, as she travels around France on the verge of a psychotic breakdown in a car borrowed from her boss. The book begins with Dany emerging from a state of unconsciousness in a gas station bathroom after being attacked. However, the only thing the attacker did to her was break her hand, her money is all there and nothing else has been damaged. We are then taken to the days preceding her attack and focus in on the day it happened, showing us the circumstances of her ordeal.
             The book is rife with symbolism, its title in itself states the books three biggest symbols. Number one, the car. The car is a symbol of Dany's weakness for luxury and the downfall that is in her longing for more than what is given to her. When Dany lived at the orphanage, being able to drive MOther "Supe" Superior around in the car is what gave her a little bit of freedom, a little bit of pleasure that was not found in her everyday life. THe car she has borrowed from the boss fits this perfectly, the luxury car she is temporarily allowed to have, but leads her to break the rules of the loan and keep the car for longer. In other words, her love for the things above her station is what leads her to her downfall.
              Number two, the glasses. Dany wears darkened prescription glasses at all times, she believes they protect her from the world. To me, they symbolize both her inverted-ness,  her painful shyness and the subtle narcism that comes from such an inverted state of being. The idea that she is mysterious that she is inapproachable is selfish in that she is just trying to get out of the difficult situations that occur when she tries to be social. She would rather withdraw from all humans and pretend to be mysterious and aloof than face the pain that comes from interacting with people. The glasses symbolize how selfish yet helpless she really is. It is these weaknesses, symbolized by the Car and the Glasses that lead her to her attack.
              As I am only halfway through the book, I have not gotten to the section devoted to the Gun, and I don't think that the Lady symbolizes anything but Dany herself. However, there were two other symbols for parts of Dany's life that led her to the attack that I noticed.
               One of these was the Pink Elephant that was on her desk, lined up with all of her typing supplies. It symbolizes Dany's childhood. When he proposes the job offer to Dany, her boss moves the elephant from the line. This symbolizes him giving her an opportunity to move on from her childlike existence and become a more mature adult. He is giving her an opportunity to prove herself. Dany at first moves it back and refuses the job, but then realizes that she should take it as it means more money and takes it with her to give to his daughter. She is ready to pass it along and let go of her childhood. However, Dany forgets it and does not get to give it to the little girl. This symbolizes that she can't let go of her childhood just yet and her infantile behavior leads her into the trouble she is now facing.
                The last important symbol I noticed in "The Lady in the Car with the Glasses and a Gun" is the symbolism of the white suit. The white suit symbolizes Dany's hope for the future: her good intentions and her remaining innocence. Like the car it is luxe, but also sensible, which refutes the fault in it. However, the suit gets progressively ruined over the course of the book, showing that Dany's hopes will be dashed and that her intentions will not lead to good results. And that, like the idea of keeping a white suit clean over a journey, her hopes are unrealistic.
                 To conclude, there is much symbolism in the book "The Lady in the Car with the Glasses and a Gun," and it makes for an interesting story if you are willing to look deeply enough.
           

Underlying Themes in The Sweet Far THing

              I have just finished reading the last book in the "Gemma Doyle Trilogy," "The Sweet Far Thing." These books were so addictive and fast paced that I only took a week to go through all of the cumulative 17 hundred plus pages of the trilogy. On the "surface" the book was a Gothic, set at a traditional English girls boarding school, isolated with mysterious gargoyles and churches... And don't forget woods! Filled with Gypsies and mysterious noises and magical powers, alternative universes (the bad: The Winterlands, and the good, The Realms) the "Gemma Doyle Triogy" had all the trappings of a trashy Gothic romance. However, it also embedded some deeper themes into its passionate, tragic, fantastical tale.
             One of the themes was women's rights. Hyped constantly throughout the trilogy and emphasized in nearly every chapter, the author Libba Bray obviously had the intent to educate her readers on the plight of women in England. One example were the factory girls, burned in a fire to save money, they rejected the male voice of the Winterlands (Amar) and instead formed their own clan with the female Pippa. I saw this as Bray telling girls to not count on men in all endeavors and be independent. In addition, Bray increasingly mentioned the presence of female suffragettes in London as Gemma and her friends traveled to and began to explore the city. It was not really apparent how the suffragettes contributed to the narrative, if not to just underline the theme of women's rights. But the greatest push for women's rights in the books came from the idea of the realms themselves, utopias where women could rule and be powerful (obviously a metaphor for what they hoped the future would be). Felicity learned how to shoot arrows and be powerful there, Gemma found the magic within herself in the realms-Women could be independent!
        Much like when mothers sneak vegetables in deserts for picky children, the women's rights theme was very obvious once you actually noticed it, and it made parts of the books hard to read as all you could see it as all you could see was the propaganda-like details that Bray included (no matter how much I agreed with it). One such moment in the book was in the very end, where Gemma demands that   the young ladies of Spence finishing school actually be taught "worthwhile things" so they can be intelligent and independent. Another moment was Gemma spurning the idea of staying and attending her season in England, and instead traveling to New York.
              Too conclude, the books were very obviously a push for women's rights, and their non-subtlety ruined any impact they might have. Although I agreed with the idea and Gemma's actions, their conspicuousness nullified their impact

The Ones Who Built the Fire

            Today I decided to take yet another trip down memory lane and revisit the girl who was on fire, who is still on fire in the minds of some. Yes, you know who I'm talking about, Katniss Everdeen.

            You've all heard of Katniss Everdeen. She's the girl who survived the hunger games. Twice. She the subject of the love of two desirable guys. She is a deadly weapon disguised as a human girl. She is confused, she is hurt. She is lovesick and furious, dangerous and sad. She hates humanity, she loves it. She is a turmoil of emotions. She confides in no one. Not even her parents. family. When you read this your mind probably flashed to your own. Annoying dad, patronizing mom, we all know the story. However, you probably have memories of hugs, words whispered to you at the dead of night when you are scared of the dark. Kisses dropped on your skinned knee. Parents are meant to love you. You can confide in your parents, and hopefully they will help you. However, Katniss, who has been through so much, doesn't confide in her parents. Rereading the Hunger Games, I looked closer into the dynamics of Katniss' relationship with her parents, the ones who built the fire that would become a powerful inferno.

        First, I looked at Katniss' mother. The book never mentions her name, is this a reference to how removed she is from Katniss' life? Well, she certainly is removed, ever since Katniss' mother fell into depression, Katniss is filled with mistrust for her mom. I think that Katniss and her mother should have worked harder to rebuild their relationship. Though no one could fathom that Katniss would have to compete in the Hunger Games, life in district 12 is tough, and a 16 year old girl needs someone to confide in. I think that things could have worked out better for Katniss if she and her mother confided in each other. If Katniss had talked to someone about her tepid relationship with Gale, maybe she would have felt less guilty about kissing Peeta. If Katniss had talked with her mother during the time she spent in district thirteen, maybe she would have been more mentally stable. And if she and her mom had had a better relationship, she might of had someone to support her when Prim died. Instead, Katniss began a descent into madness. Everyone knows that mothers baby you sometimes. Katniss was never babied. She always had to be mature and responsible, way beyond her years. Katniss was resentful of this, it turned her into the hardened killer who won the 74th Hunger games. And as she has said many times, "no decent person ever wins the games."

          Then there's Katniss' father. The one who died when Katniss was 11. If Katniss' father was alive, then the story might not have happened. Mr.Everdeen would have been the main hunter for the Evergreens and Katniss would not have to shoulder that responsibility. Mr. Everdeen would have put food on the table and cared for his daughters. If Katniss' dad was still alive, Katniss' mother would've never fallen into depression, causing Katniss and her mother to still get along. Katniss loved her father, he would have counseled her to the best decisions, and she would have felt safe. On the other hand if Katniss' father lived, she wouldn't have had all of the opportunities to practice hunting, as he would have been the main hunter. Also, Katniss wouldn't have become so hard and invincible. She wouldn't have been the vicious killer who won the games.

            There's no denying that parents are annoying, but they give you more help than you give them credit for. Supporting parents can help so much in a time of need. If Katniss had had a different parental situation, her life would be so much different. Katniss needs her parents, she just doesn't know it. And even though Katniss thinks she has more romantic love than she needs, she needs some parental love too.

The Blind Spot

               Recently I have started reading "1984" by George Orwell. The book is set in 1984, but an imagined one. Orwell wrote the book in the 1940s, so it is an imagined chronology of 1984. And what a different 1984 it is! Orwell writes of a supremest regime ruled by Big Brother, a tyrannical leader who is both worshipped and feared by all. To instill this fear and monitor the devotion Big Brother has installed devices in all houses that can record movement and hear audio that are almost like television. He has set up a vast government with communist-like coupons for food and clothing divided equally. The country (The novel takes place in London) is almost always at war with one country or the other and a new shorter language (Newspeak) is slowly leeching the English language of its adjectives and adverbs. The  book focuses on Winston Smith who works in the Ministry of "Truth," erasing all of Big Brothers false speeches and predictions and making them correct. However, Smith secretly writes in a diary about Big Brother's regime and his stifled hatred of the regime in a spot blind to the monitor, a deed easily punishable by death. It is the former sentence, I believe, that causes the latter.
            I think that the reason Smith is so different than his Big Brother fearing peers is his very job. Unlike Smith's friend, Syme, who diligently and enthusiastically purges English and replaces it with Newspeak, Smith's job is not to improve upon the regime or add to it, it is to erase its mistakes and clean up after it. Smith is constantly being exposed to Big Brother's mistakes and the very proof of his vulnerability.
           Big Brother has worked very hard at establishing himself as almost a God, the almighty power that can see everything you're doing. And the devotion that "God" inspires in his followers is almost matched by Big Brother's "subjects." However, this image is marred by the fact that he is still human and does make mistakes such as predicting an over-production of goods when there was actually a loss. And since Smith is the one who actually realizes that Big Brother makes these mistakes, he can never see Big Brother as his other comrades do. It is this realization that prods Smith to hate Big Brother, which comes from seeing who he actually is, not some propaganda-ed hero.
            This proves one of the most timeless causes of revolution, which I believe the book is leading to, information. When information is present, people can interpret it for themselves without someone else telling them what to think of it. Information helps people think for themselves and back up their suspicions and opinions. This is why Smith has the capacity to hate Big Brother, he has the information to do so. This is the regime's blind spot.

The Death Issue

              Once upon a time, I attempted to write a novel. I bought a leather-bound maroon book with gold trim and lined paper and told myself I would scribe until the end of the volume and publish it (in the process becoming rich and famous and getting a dog). I was six. Needless to say I did not make it to the end of that book. In fact I only finished about 20 pages in my huge first grade block letters. The book was about two friends who grew apart, but got back together  due to an elaborate plan and some minor animal kidnapping. The girls, named Anika and Sophie, were my dream alter-egos. They had their own rooms, pets and had delicious things like mac and cheese for dinner, and whipped cream and waffles for breakfast. They were talented (Sophie was a dancer, Anika drew), smart, pretty, basically perfect in every way. But that's what happens in the idyllic world of children's books, everything works out and everyone is special. Its so different from the YA books of today with their death, rape and social destruction-al themes. And transitioning between the happiness of early picture books to the disparaging works that fill my current shelves was one of the most eye-opening moments of my life.
                    Death becomes more integrated into the books we read as we get older, no longer just belonging to sickly animals or ancient grandparents. As death extends its dark reach to our teenage heroes and heroines, we wonder just how vulnerable we are. John Green informs us about cancer, Laurie Halse Anderson tells us about bulimia, Ellen Hopkins opens up our world to drugs. To the closeted reader that I am, books are a way to soak up the impossible and the all to possible. Books are the doorways and manuals to things I have yet to experience, and death is such a huge part of that.
                Where do we go? So many volumes have tried to address this inevitability. What religion doesn't tell us, stories make up, or sometimes refute the teachings of old. Heaven. Hell. What is even the difference? Elsewhere, a charming yet borderline creepy book, tells us we will be reborn as young children, perhaps addressing the degradation of our society and of ourselves. The Golden Compass, or to be more specific the Amber Spyglass, speaks of the dead, shadows in a barren land. The idea of this anomaly troubles me, for although when we were little death was a peaceful slumber, I now know the unknown lays beyond.
                 How will we die? Of course we don't know now, how would life work if we just counted the hours we had left in this world? Books have addressed this issue and more. But back to the question. The Hunger Games teaches us about our inner savages, waiting for the right venue to explode, the potential for violent ends in all of us. The Fault in Our Stars tells us of a different kind, a languishing death, so poignantly slow and painful that it almost hurts to read. Conrad sought suicide in Impulse and found "eternal rest." And others still teach us about the sudden death that occurs via car or crashing wave, unbeknownst until its too late. These different means expose us to both the horrors surrounding us and those within. All waiting until something falls into place and we vacate this world.
              So death surrounds us, and books have taught us that. Exposing some to that which was not imaginable and warning others about their paths. Innocent childhoods stolen by death, lust, greed. They're gone. For me it was books that took away my innocence and opened so many doors. And to think people say that teenagers feel like they're invincible; I feel closer to the grave than ever.

Paternal Ramifications

           Over spring break, as any teen with my ardor for the written word would do, I read many books. As my friends had scattered to various parts of the world to sojourn in various hotels and houses, I simply lay in my bed and devoured every book available online for free and the books my mother brought me from the library, as well as some old favorites. Among these volumes were the "Pretty Little Liars" series and "Looking for Alaska."
           As anyone who has read these books can tell, they are very different from each other. So dissimilar that it would seem fairly impossible to imply that they had any significant similarities other than they are all about teenagers. The former is about a group of wealthy teenagers living in suburban Philedelphia finding themselves and building their friendships and relationship amid the ongoing murder investigation of their best friend and threatening notes from the mysterious "A." The latter, "Looking for Alaska," is about a teenage boy named Miles finding "the great perhaps" in a Alabama boarding school aided by the Colonel (a brilliant scholarship student with a penchant for planning), Lara, Takumi and Alaska Young ( a sad, clever and beautiful girl searching for her way out of the "labyrinth" after the death of her mother).  One thing that stood out to me with all of these books is the effect of a father figure to the main characters.
           The paternal figure is often thought of as a mentor to boys, but they have an equal impact on their daughters. For example, in the "Pretty Little Liars" series, protagonist Hanna is prodded back into her eating disorder due to her father's new step daughter who "wears a size two!" Hanna even expresses this to her dad, saying, that she is "like a size two...I'm huge!" This is even though Hanna is thought to be thin by her peers. Her father does not respond, furthering her self esteem issues and pushing her deep into a cycle of bulimia and bad relationships. Another girl in the series pushed into bad relationships by her fathers actions is another protagonist Aria Montgomery. After Aria saw her Dad cheating on her Mom, he made her promise not to tell, which she kept for almost three years. When the clandestine affair goes public, Aria gets romantically involved with a teacher, saying, "I was vulnerable and he was there." Her fathers pressuring and extra-marital affairs got her into trouble, her boyfriend arrested and herself alienated.
              In "Looking for Alaska" the protagonist is named Miles, but the subject of the book is (arguably) Alaska Young. Miles is smitten and describes her as effortlessly beautiful, charismatic, intense, charismatic and troubled. Not the archetypal beautiful girl, but definitely worth obsessing over, in his opinion. Alaska's impulsiveness evidenced by her sudden desires to kiss or drive recklessly, is revealed to be caused by her believed causation of her mother's death. Her father reportedly blames her for her mother's demise and she lives with this imposed guilt everyday. It is also this guilt, I believe, that makes Alaska eventually die as she speeds towards her mother's grave after she forgot the anniversary of the death. If her father had made a connection with her after her mothers's death or attempted to remedy his accusations of fault made years ago, Alaska may not have felt such pressure to get to the grave and die.
             I have a relatively healthy relationship with my father. Because my parents are divorced, I get to see him more often one on one and, I believe, get to know him a little better than my friends and their fathers whose parents are still together. However, what someone's relationship with their father is supposed to be is hard to define. What anyones relationship with anyone else is supposed to be is also unclear. Should there be such definitions, such boundaries? How close is too close and how far is to far? These are questions that must be answered on a case by case basis, for as seen in these books, fathers definitely affect so much more than just their children.