In “A Raisin In The Sun”, Lorraine Hansberry sets the stage in a way for us to expect our characters to be in a spot of hardship, feeling stuck, and left wanting more. The description of the Younger’s apartment shows that this family is treading water at best, both economically and emotionally; despite efforts to keep it up, it still manages to be a bleak and overcrowded mess. As the morning begins, we see the struggle to even get out of bed and how Travis and his father Walter must hurry to use the bathroom to get ready for school and work respectively. Ruth seems to be the driving force in the household; rallying her husband and her son to get things done, but as everyone comes to notice, she just seems “tired” of everything; almost pessimistic and certainly critical. We see Walter as bitter and possibly jealous, yet optimistic and longing for support from his family; financially and otherwise. When he berates his younger sister Beneatha, who apparently gets whatever she wants and is care-free, it is understandable. He firmly believes that with this investment in the liquor store, he and his family would finally be set for success. But between his wife’s criticism, his sister’s lack of interest, and his mother’s Christianity blocking the investment, he feels unsupported by his own people. Beneatha is introduced as impatient, annoyed, and looking for identity; this is shown to us as the other characters chastise her for not sticking with any one thing too long before she moves on to the next. It makes sense when Asagai is introduced to us, proud of his African culture and heritage, and wanting Beneatha to feel the same, Beneatha is uncertain in her thoughts and actions. Mama is introduced to be a respectable, graceful older woman, who attempts to remind the others of what is truly important. She serves as the glue that keeps this family together as she reminds everyone that money is not as nearly as important as they make it out to be, and explains the other’s tendencies and motivations in an effort to make them all understand each other.

Benito Cereno turns out to be a marvelous mystery novella. It also happens to shed a negative light on the practice of slavery. Whether it was intended to do so or not, I believe showed how slavery could bring out the worst in people. By the story’s end, it is revealed that the reason behind the San Dominick’s fate was not due to storm and disease, but rather a natural revolt of the slaves. Babo had gone from being a seemingly over-enthused servant of Don Benito to, ironically so, Don Benito’s cunning capturer and master. He and Atufal managed to successfully take control of the ship and held the crew against their will. I find myself sympathizing with Cereno. Though assuredly knowing better, and that such a fate is possible, I understand now why he was always so hesitant to speak of his good friend’s fate. After the ruthless killing of Alexander Aranda, his skeleton was used as the ship’s new figurehead; as well as a warning of what should happen if the crew did not comply with Babo’s commands. The fact that he did not break his act until he saw his opportunity for escape speaks volumes about his character.

But what truly makes this a negative depiction of slavery is what it forces Babo and the others to become. Being subjected has taught them that the only way to freedom is by the same ruthless means others have used to put them in chains. They must fight, kill, threaten, and strike fear into the hearts of their captures; they must enslave them in turn. Slavery is a sad practice that ultimately cost more than it’s worth; determination and opportunity will always be sought after, and when that happens, the tables will be turned.

When we are introduced to the character of Captain Delano, we are informed of his “kind-heartedness” and “good nature”, bordering on naivete. Despite this, he is nevertheless convinced that blacks are indeed inferior to whites, despite being, in his own words, more full of life and more pleasurable to be around. It is disappointingly closed-minded of him to see these people as less so; in need of education, while essentially praising them for qualities they could impart in the reverse. And he fails to see the ironic tragedy in that these slaves, in particular, have been educated; in the way of enslavement, how to bend another to their will.

In Chapter 6 “Narrative”, Culler mentions the two quintessential parts to any story; plot and discourse.  A plot, according to Aristotle, is to have a beginning, middle, and end. It requires a transformation of some kind; a transition from an initial circumstance to a substantial resolution. The plot is the “shaping of events” while the discourse refers to how that plot is told; such as the selected point of view and the choice of focalization and narrative style.

See if you recognize this one, the plot: we follow the story of a simple southern boy with a low IQ and leg braces. We see him through his years as he grows, learns, loves, travels, and ultimately lives through world-changing events seemingly unfazed and constant. The discourse: this story is told mainly in first-person. The narrator speaks to us by speaking to other characters in the present-day, about his past. As such, the main character uses a temporal focalization; as he is speaking about his now past, he constantly contextualizes actions and events with phrases such as “now, at the time”. He also relies heavily on the narratee’s knowledge of world history, as he casually mentions these events transpiring around him. Despite constant breaks to the present-day as the characters he speaks to change several times over, the narrator manages to tell his story in order from past to present almost methodically.

What makes a story worth it? They can provide simple pleasure and allow us to explore desires. They can attempt to satisfy a thirst for knowledge and expose us to new ideas and new interpretations. And they can inform on and criticize social norms; this last reason I find the most interesting. Just look at how the concept of how to be a “man”, “woman”, or “adult” has changed dramatically in the last 20 years. such definitions like those of fitness and gender roles have been expanded. With mental health concerns being more recognized today, an action, such as crying, is not seen as such a “weakness” and is in fact encouraged in today’s society.

I paid particular attention to Culler’s mention of rhetorics being seen as the element that most readers, myself included, write off as pretty, but ultimately pointless wordplay. Quote, “When poetry has been attacked or denigrated, it has been as deceptive or frivolous rhetoric that misleads citizens and calls up extravagant desires.”(pg70)  However, he does remind me that poetry does allow writers an attempt to express their thoughts and emotions better than if they were simply writing them down in descriptive, yet dull, context. Culler specifically mentions four “master tropes” that allow rhetoric figures to have a semblance of disciplined language, albeit with a figurative structure, and therefore permit these literary devices to have relevance and substance. Metaphor and metonymy are two such tropes and both are prevalent in Adrienne Rich’s poem “Diving into the Wreck”.

I read this poem about four times before making my annotation. I tried to remember what Culler said about interpreting poems; to assume it’s a structure in itself, and use the imagery to see the world differently including “appreciating what other observers would be trivial or oppressive”. Initially, it sounded of someone “waxing poetic” about their wreck-diving trip. I noticed the use of metonyms such as her description of the wreck and the laid open bare hull with its contents left to rot. And then I began to think of this detailed wreck, “whose breasts still bear the stress whose silver, copper, vermeil cargo lies obscurely inside barrels half-wedged and left to rot”, as a metaphor for a person’s introspection. Broken, weighed down, scattered, suppressed, and silenced “whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes”, completely aware of the pain, lack of freedom to express the rich character of their gold-filled hold. This person could be a stand-in for women’s rights or it could just be one individual feeling “trapped beneath the waves”. Either way, this certainly envokes more attention, more emotion, than had the author simply wrote down that they felt trapped, or held back.

When we get emotional we get invested, and that is what poetry does for us. If we do not dismiss it out of hand, it gives us the potential to see things through other eyes, in a way we can yet understand what they are going through.

What caught my attention the most was actually the correlation Culler made between language and thought. Specifically, the “extreme view” that comes from the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, that states what we think is governed by what language we speak. When he mentions, “Whorf argued that the Hopi Indians have a conception of time that can’t be grasped in English”(pg60), I was baffled. How hard could it be to translate seconds, days, and years?

Just after that, Culler says that the French have no corresponding word to English’s “pets”. Does this mean that French people lack animal companions, furry and otherwise? Of course not! (I know, I’ve seen it.) Fun fact: the closest translation you can get in French would be “animal de compagnie”. Which when literally translated into English becomes “animal of company”; I personally find this a far more fitting description of, say, a dog. And there it is! To some, the term “pet” may seem demeaning – just some thing you own. In this context, it might appear odd to view “man’s best friend” as something you just happen to buy at the local pet store; like buying a t.v. from Best Buy. “Animal of company”, now there is a term that commands respect and shows appreciation. I’m beginning to understand exactly why translators often say “there’s no word for it in English”, or, “the closest it comes to is/ a rough translation is”. Language is heavily influenced by the speaker’s view of the world. I’m reminded of my frustration with Spanish, and its insistence of assigning genders to inanimate objects. Is a bicycle called a “bicicleta” (“a” being female) because it looks feminine?

I found Culler defining “literature” from the angle of it being an intertextual or a self-reflexive construct to be the most interesting. “Recent theorists have argued that works are made out of other works: made possible by prior works which they take up, repeat, challenge, transform.”(pg34) It seems obvious once said aloud; and certainly with respect to a purely educational piece, say an Emergency Medical Technician textbook, that most assuredly must be updated regularly. But Culler is specifically referring to “literary” works here.

What makes a poem a poem? Any poem worth its salt is something more than a mere collection of pretty words. Poems contain “figures of speech”, a distinctive tone, and they very often rhyme. They certainly say things in a more enticing manner than had they just said them plainly, in a more casual or informative way. And we know this only due to the countless poems that came before to inform us on what makes a poem. But the bumper stickers’ explanation is what really intrigued me.

In fact, I caught myself explaining it to a friend in a very similar manner to how Culler explains it here. “Nuke a Whale for Jesus!”(pg35) is a hilarious play on a combination of previous bumper stickers. However, if “No Nukes”, “Save the Whales”, and “Jesus Saves” had not existed, “Nuke a Whale for Jesus” would be utter, possibly insulting, nonsense on the back of someone’s car. Rather than the funny jab at bumper stickers, in general, that it serves to be.

1.After reading Jonathan Culler’s “What is literature and does it matter?”, I’m tempted to say that the main aspect of it all is that context is indeed key. He informs us that unlike science that has a definitive chain of events, a cause and effect formula, literature is widely open to interpretation and even quite simply the opinion of the reader. However, at the very same time, literature tends to have an intended purpose. A college textbook, while factual and educational, would hardly be considered a “literary work”. On the other hand, fictional works, such as Shakespeare’s Hamlet, have been praised for their “literariness” on their ability to excite the mind, cause discussion, and invoke emotion. Rhymes and poems, without their respective contexts, might appear nonsensical and out of place, and might open themselves to ridicule for their sometimes lack of proper grammar. But these works are held to a higher standard because society has deemed them worthy.

Aesthetics only further blurs the line between literary and not: seemingly creating purpose, but it is almost completely subjective and, again, open to interpretation. Literature does appear to have an ironically human universal trait: it is on a constant journey of self-discovery. It builds on itself, it evolves, and it is constantly challenged. Literature can serve either many different purposes or just the one, whether it is practical or not. Why is the definition of literature important? I suppose it serves to separate what is worth your attention and investment from what is not, but isn’t that inherently subjective?

2.”Are there qualities shared by poems, play, and novels that distinguish them from, say, songs, transcriptions of conversations, and autobiographies?”(pg 21) This quote stuck with me as it made me think about literature’s instinctive ambiguity.