Month: February 2018

This past monday, I went for a walk around the college. I had never really circumnavigated the building, but upon closer investigation of the streets surrounding, I had realized that our immediate surroundings were actually filled with food-related stores; bagel shops, coffee shops, bubble milk tea stores, Subway, McDonalds, Chiptole. This peninsula of education was surrounded on all sides by a sea of fast food, almost as if it was made on the basis of attracting starving college students with money, calling them to a quick snack between classes.  Moving on, further down the street I saw Madison Square Garden, and one thing I did was venture further into a part of the park I had not before seen. I actually got lost because I was not familiar with the surroundings, as it was pretty wonderful. I hadn’t seen the Flatiron building from the front before, it was kind of liberating to see the two streets diverge from the building’s edge as they did.

Leaving out pieces of plot is a crucial part of writing, and it is a shame that it is not practiced as much as it ought to be. Many well-known bestsellers have been made famous through their extravagant plots and narratives, but one of the least appreciated mechanics of writing is that of omission. Some wonder about how a story can possibly be improved by leaving out details, and how confusing the readers could possibly be a good way to entice them or tell a story, but on the contrary, omission of these details allows the reader to fill in the blanks with their imagination, forcing them to apply critical thinking and inducing a feeling of accomplishment when they produce theories as to transpired between two events. Theorizing is an amazing tool that encourages readers to become immersed in the story and feel like they are part of the tale they are reading, some such epics being those of the books A Streetcar Named Desire and The Great Gatsby  by Tennessee Williams and F. Scott Fitzgerald, respectively. The first of the tales in which omission can be found as a driving force to the story is that of the young Jay Gatsby, a ‘New Money’ (First Generation Wealth) young man of considerable status, who lives an extravagant life in the West Egg; hosting parties for complete strangers during the era of the “Roaring Twenties” (1920s).

To kick things off, The Great Gatsby follows Jay Gatsby, a mysterious figure whom many seldom laid eyes on, host of many celebrations in what we now know as the Great Neck Peninsula on Long Island. The story follows along Gatsby’s exploits through the eyes of Nick Carraway, the narrator, playing a sort of friend to Gatsby in the story. The story revolves around Gatsby’s reclusive behavior and eccentric mannerisms as he displays his bon vivant lifestyle through the first half of the book. The story escalates during the latter portion of the novel, when Gatsby reveals he has been in love with Daisy Buchannan, wife of Tom Buchannan, who is an “Old Money” (Inherited Wealth) elite with a nigh-militant demeanor, and a friend of Nick. As events unfold, the story ends in tragedy, but the omitted passage occurs a bit earlier. What makes this piece of plot before the reveal so interesting is that Gatsby has never shown his love for  Daisy outright before, and the reader, with today’s understanding of romance, would have likely been somewhat oblivious to Gatsby’s infatuation until the latter part of the novel. The effectiveness of the omission of Gatsby’s love for Daisy plays its part right from the start of the book, a feat by any standard that Fitzgerald managed sneaking out such an important detail; the whole driving force of the story. Readers, along with the characters themselves, are taken for a journey as they ride along to figure out why Gatsby throws the parties he does, the characters spouting rumors about him being anything from a war general to a scheming businessman, tired of his rich life, and soon after the reader themselves starts formulating ideas about who he might be and why he hosts grand celebrations. All these mysteries surrounding the man, along with the rumors building on his character, contribute to this being one of the staples of American Literature, mixing the rendition of the past with a mystery-filled  adventure of a novel, all because the story left out Gatsby’s love for Daisy, and his upbringing, from the start leaving the reader hungry for knowledge of ‘why?’. But The Great Gatsby is not the only work of literature to be impacted so strongly by a redaction of information; that title falls as well on the story of Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire.

The play tells a story of Stanley Kowalski, a hotheaded man’s man, with his wife, Stella; a sweet woman of timid nature, weak and vulnerable to Stanley’s uncontrolled rage. Stanley is a man well into his thirties, having been an army engineer in World War II, and currently working as a Factory Parts Salesman. The story follows the daily life of the pair until Stella’s sister, Blanche, arrives. Once Blanche makes herself a part of their lives, Stanley begins to grow increasingly reckless, unleashing violent behavior and erratic outbursts directed at his friends, wife, and sister-in-law for nearly every little infraction he spots. The story builds up to one night, when Stella is away from home. Stanley and Blanche have an argument, and Blanche retreats to the bathroom in an effort to elude Stanley, but Stanley won’t have it; kicking and screaming, he carries Blanche to the bedroom and the scene cuts to the curtains. The play refuses to state it outright, but the scene left out was that in which Stanley rapes Blanche. The reader is placed in stasis for a moment, blissfully unaware of what transpired, and stunned upon realizing what had occurred. From there on in, the story takes a much darker turn as Stanley descends along a spiral of violence, eventually striking, which causes a falling out as the story wraps up shortly after. The omission here was a small one, but the effect of it was shocking on a scale grand enough to entirely alter future readings upon having this event stuck in the back of the reader’s mind. In this, Streetcar Named Desire gives another ingenious use of omission in order to affect how we interpret the story, albeit this one was more sudden and caused a greater shift in the tone of the narrative, so much so that, as mentioned before, the one scene that was left out changed the entire book’s meaning as the story unfolds.

To fold up this essay, or bring on the conclusion, while many ways to improve stories and attract readers exist, the use of omitting certain elements and scenes from the story can prove to be just as effective when setting up a twist or explanation for the plot, if not more, than other literary devices. This astounding use of cutting details from the narrative has been shown through the stories of Jay Gatsby and Stanley Kowalski in The Great Gatsby and Streetcar Named Desire to great effect, morphing their storylines into something entirely new, while stimulating the reader with ‘food for thought’. Overall it was entrancing and very immersive to be given holes in plot to do detective work on in an effort to figure out how the gap fits into itself in decoding the events in these tales, and those to come.

Leaving out pieces of plot is a crucial part of writing, and it is a shame that it is not practiced as much as it should be. Many well-known best-sellers have made their authors famous through their extravagant plots and narratives, but one of the least appreciated mechanics of writing is that of omission. Some wonder how a story can possibly be bettered by leaving out details, and that confusing the readers is not a good way to entice them or tell a story, but on the contrary, omission of details allows the reader to fill in the blanks with their imagination, forcing them to apply critical thinking and feel accomplished when they produce theories as to what had happened between two events. Theorizing is an amazing tool that forces readers to become stuck in the story and feel like they are inside the tale they are reading, some such epics are those in the books A Streetcar Named Desire, The Great Gatsby, and Open City by Tennessee Williams, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Teju Cole, respectively. The first of the tales in which omission can be found as a driving force to the story is that of the young Jay Gatsby, a ‘New Money’ man of considerable wealth, who lives an extravagant life in the West Egg, hosting parties for complete strangers during the era of the “Roaring Twenties” (1920s).

To begin with, The Great Gatsby follows Jay Gatsby, a mysterious figure whom many have never laid eyes on, and the host of many celebrations in what we know as the Great Neck Peninsula on Long Island. The story follows along Gatsby’s exploits through the eyes of Nick Carraway, the narrator who also plays a part as a sort of friend to Gatsby in the story. The story revolves around Gatsby’s outlandish behavior and eccentric mannerisms as he displays his wealth through the first half of the book. Things get interesting during the latter portion of the novel, when Gatsby reveals he’s been in love with Daisy Buchannan, wife of Tom Buchannan, an “Old Money” (Inherited Wealth) elite with a nigh-militant demeanor, and a friend of Nick. As events unfold, Daisy and Gatsby wind up running Tom’s mistress over and Gatsby dies shortly after, but that is another story. What makes this piece of plot before the reveal so interesting is that Gatsby has never shown that he was in love with Daisy before, and the reader, with today’s understanding of romance, would have been completely oblivious of the love interest until the end. The effectiveness of the omission of Gatsby’s love for Daisy plays its part right from the start of the book, a feat by Fitzgerald to manage sneaking out such an important detail; the whole driving force of the story. Readers, along with the characters themselves, are taken for a journey as they read along to figure out why Gatsby throws the parties he through, the characters spouting rumors about him being a war general, or a scheming businessman, bored of his rich life, and soon after the reader themselves starts formulating ideas about who he might be and why he does what he does. All these mysteries surrounding the man, along with the rumors building on his character contribute to this being one of the staples of American Literature, mixing the rendition of the past with a mystery-filled, adventure of a novel, all because the story left out Gatsby’s love for Daisy, and his upbringing, from the start. But The Great Gatsby is not the only work of literature to be impacted so strongly by a redaction of information; that fact falls also on the story of Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire.

Stanley is a man well into his thirties, having been an army engineer in World War II, and currently working as a Factory Parts Salesman. The play tells a story of Stanley, a hotheaded man’s man, with his wife, Stella; a sweet woman of timid nature, weak and vulnerable to Stanley’s uncontrolled rage. The story follows the daily life of the two until Stella’s sister, Blanche, arrives. Once Blanche makes herself an inhabitant of their home, Stanley begins to act more and more wild, unleashing violent behavior and erratic outbursts at his friends, wife, and sister-in-law for nearly every little infraction he witnesses. The story swells up to one night, when Stella is away from home. Stanley and Blanche have an argument, and Blanche recedes to the bathroom in an effort to get away from Stanley, but Stanley won’t have it; kicking and screaming, he carries Blanche to the bedroom and the scene cuts to curtains. The story takes a dark twist from here on out, the play refuses to state it outright, but the scene left out was that in which Stanley rapes Blanche. The reader is thrown in a void for a moment, oblivious to what just happened, and stunned once they piece together the clues. From there on in, the story takes a much darker turn as Stanley devolves into a spiral of violence, and eventually strikes Stella, causing a falling out as the story wraps up henceforth. The omission here was a small one, but the effect of it was so great that anyone conducting a second reading of the story would be reading an entirely new book, one that shows the story of not a man, but an animal; a despicable man who does horrific acts on a whim. Streetcar Named Desire gives another clever use of omission in order to affect how we read the story, albeit this one was more sudden and caused a greater shift in the tone of the narrative, so much so that the one scene left out changes the entire book’s unfolding of events.

To conclude, while many ways to improve stories and attract readers exist, the use of omitting certain elements and scenes from the story can prove to be just as effective when setting up a twist or explanation for the plot, if not more, than other literary devices. This amazing use of cutting details from the narrative has been shown through the stories of Jay Gatsby and Stanley Kowalski in The Great Gatsby and Streetcar Named Desire to great effect, twisting their meaning into something entirely new, while stimulating the reader with food for thought. Overall it was amazing and very immersive to be given holes in plot to do detective work on in an effort to figure out how the plot fits into itself.

I went out for a walk with my mom today. We were kind of tired of being holed up at home, so we decided to go for a walk and talk about things in our lives casually. The streets were pretty bright that Friday, despite the gloomy sky covering the clouds that afternoon. Unlike my other walks, this one felt more meaningful; we talked back and forth about my brother, about college, friends, how I was getting along, and of course, grades. It was a pretty calm night, our chatter was quiet in comparison to the cars whizzing by… a sound I’d gotten used to by the time I stepped out, as the oncoming traffic never seemed to die down; an eternal occurrence no matter the time of day ( or night). I noticed something unusual just before we started turning back home. As we went to cross the street, I realized I had never seen this area before. Despite all the times I went out and walked aimlessly, I had never come across this specific neighborhood, mostly because it was a dead end, but even still I was snapped into reality as I realized there were houses and gardens I’d never before laid eyes on. The sight was nothing special but to me it felt different, and felt like something I could include in my essay.

Whitman uses sentences of varying lengths, though a majority of the time the sentences tend to be short. Alongside short sentences, Whitman uses repetition of certain key words to identify variables such as setting, the mood of the story and the time events took place in. These two go hand in hand to immerse the reader and deeply instill the imagery of the poem in them; the short sentences serve as easy to digest and meaningful pieces of a bigger puzzle, while the repetition reminds the reader what ideas to focus on, or question why those words were used in particular. Personally, I see an astoundingly wide array of similarities to Open City, the main one being that the narrator, much like Julius, is wandering; not really traveling with a purpose but not exactly wandering aimlessly either. In both the stories there exists a faint idea of what general place the characters want to or are supposed to be in, and the stories follow the journey the characters take to get there rather than where they’re going.

Edit: Forgot the Close Reading Portion! Here goes:

Upon doing a close reading of the 4th section of the poem, it occurred to me that the author holds the city and the people in it close to him, he regards the vast exchange of diversity among the people as a part of himself, stating that “The men and women that I saw were all near to me-“, showing he was close to them, whether literally or metaphorically. What’s more, the last sentence clues us in on how he looks up to them, or forward, because they look back on him. This hints that even though the two may be people from very different lives, underneath the status and standing, both the narrator and the people around him are just that; people.

Today I got out of bed, same as any other day, and made my way to the train station. As I passed by the CVS store, I noticed how quiet the streets were. Often, Queens Boulevard is teeming with cars zooming by, though it was certainly a nice change of pace to see it so empty and serene. As the time hit 6:00 AM, I made my way down the worn steps of the subway entrance before hopping onto an early R train. The ride was actually kind of uneventful, that is, until the train stopped at Lex and 59th, before the operator informed the passengers  that the train was now out of service, and would no longer run its course. Frustrated, I got off alongside a swarm of other early morning commuters, only to find that the delay was only temporary, to my relief. As another R train rolled by, I made my way in and continued the mini-field trip out of 23rd St. and toward class. Sure enough, on the edges of Madison Square Park were droves of people, all taking pictures of the Flatiron building. I payed little mind as I had seen this event happening nearly daily this week, and continued on to class so that I wouldn’t be late.