Daffodils, Poetry, and "Two-Facedness"

"I did not know what these flowers were, and so it was a mystery to me why I wanted to kill them." --Lucy, page 29

In Lucy, Lucy remembers having to memorize a poem about daffodils when she was young and claims that her recital of it to "parents, teachers, and [her] fellow pupils" marked "the height of [her] two-facedness" (18). Years later, while walking with Mariah and encountering real daffodils for the first time in her life, Lucy asks, "Mariah, do you realize that at ten years of age I had to learn by heart a long poem about some flowers I would not see in real life until I was nineteen?" (30). It seems that the reference to Lucy's "two-facedness" arises from her acknowlegement that, at age 10, she saw herself as a bit of a hypocrite, passionately reciting a poem about something she had neither encountered nor truly understood. Perhaps this is why, when she finally sees the objects that she so wonderfully (and obliviously) described during her poetry recital as a child, she "want[ed] to kill them" (29). The dandelions represent not only the resentment she had for the British colonization of her home and the corresponding oppression it made her feel, but they also remind her of the "two-facedness" she felt after reciting the poem as a child.

In a way, I can relate to Lucy's feelings about the daffodils and the feelings that her memory of the poetry recital invoke. When I was in junior high, I had to memorize and recite "The Village Blacksmith" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow to my literature class (when Prof. Ambrose asked us in class on Thursday if we ever had to memorize a poem for school, I mistakenly said I had to recite a Robert Frost poem...I didn't realize my mistake until I "googled" some of the lines of the poem that I could remember...I apologize for the error). Like Lucy, when I had to recite the poem when I was young, I had no idea what the words of the poem really meant. I wasn't as worried about the meaning of what I was saying as I was about stumbling over words like "sinewy" and having to say the word "sexton" in front of my just-entering-puberty 7th grade peers. However, when I read the poem today after googling it (admittedly, the first time I have done so since that horrid 7th grade experience), I do feel like my recital of it in junior high (complete, like Lucy's, with "special emphasis in places where that was needed" [18]...I did get an 'A' after all) was a bit hypocritical. Now when I read the poem, I am reminded so much of my dad and how hard he has worked a blue-collar job all his life to provide for our family, something that I perhaps took a little for granted when I was younger. In a way, I am a little angry at my junior high self for not taking the time to grasp the meaning of the words I was saying...back then, all I cared about was getting a good grade.

Can you relate at all to the resentment that Lucy feels upon seeing the daffodils? Is there any specific place or object that makes you feel a certain way because it reminds you of something from your past? Do you think that Lucy's admission of being "two-faced" is accurate, or do you think that her recital of the poem without understanding its meaning was just an instance of childhood naivete?

A "Pilgrimage" Story?

I think that Jhumpa Lahiri’s short story, "This Blessed House," is a pilgrimage tale, but perhaps not in the traditional sense of the word. Twinkle does indeed seem to be on a journey in search of great moral significance, but I don't think that is it necessarily the religious qualities of the relics she finds that she is interested in. According to the Wikipedia article about pilgrimage, "Christian pilgrimage was first made to sites connected with the birth, life, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus." In a sense, I feel that Twinkle's "pilgrimage" is a journey/attempt to "resurrect" her marriage. It does not seem as if Twinkle is looking for religious answers in her obsession with the search for Christian relics, as she clearly states to her husband that "[they] are good little Hindus" (137). Rather than religious ideas, the objects that Twinkle finds represent hope, beauty, and optimism for the future: when Sanjeev notices the Ten Commandments dishtowel that she finds, Twinkle tells him to "[f]ace it. This house is blessed" (144). In a way, there is a parallel between the condition of their house and the condition of their marriage; both may need "to be dusted" (137) in some spots, but if Sanjeev and Twinkle work/search hard enough, "God only knows what... [they'll] find" (153). The house (and marriage) contain all kinds of hidden treasures. When Twinkle asks Sanjeev if he thinks "the previous owners were born-agains," it is almost as if she is asking him if he thinks they too can be "reborn" in their love for one another (137). In some ways, this "pilgrimage" does lead to great discovery: at the end of the story, Twinkle's discovery of the solid silver bust of Christ leads Sanjeev to have an epiphany of sorts. When he sees that the bust "contain[s] dignity, solemnity, beauty even," he discovers that "to his surprise these qualities [make] him hate it all the more" (157). Perhaps this is suggesting that Sanjeev has finally discovered the "dignity, solemnity, [and] beauty" in Twinkle as well as the silver bust she found, and he realizes that he does not (and perhaps cannot) appreciate these qualities. To summarize, the real "pilgrimage"--the real journey--of the story is the search for true beauty, which is discovered at the end. Twinkle seems to appreciate this beauty, while Sanjeev comes to hate it.

Perhaps I am over-reading the text, but this is just one way in which I think the story can be interpreted as a "pilgrimage tale." I'm sure there are other interpretations out there, as well as counterarguments to my own interpretation, and I would love to hear them; please share. :-)

In closing, I would like to leave you with a brief clip from another "pilgrimage story." I know it would be wrong of me to post a youtube video without tying it into the text we are studying in some way, so I'll do my best. I've posted the similarities I see below the video. This is one of my favorite scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, a "pilgrimage tale" about King Arthur's quest for the Holy Grail. Enjoy!!


Ties to "This Blessed House:"

1. King Arthur is on a pilgrimage, and as I've discussed above, I see This Blessed House as a "pilgrimage tale."
2. King Arthur is in search of the grail, a holy relic, and Twinkle is in search of Christian objects--these are both religiously affiliated.
3. King Arthur tries to recruit the Black Knight to join his search. Twinkle sort of recruits the guest at her party to join her search: "the whole party joined forces and began combing through each of the rooms" (153).
4. The Black Knight reminds me a lot of Sanjeev. He tries to block King Arthur from continuing on his quest, much like Sanjeev discourages Twinkle's search for and display of Christian relics; he refuses King Arthur's offer to join the quest, and Sanjeev "had no desire to join" Twinkle's group in searching for objects; the Black Knight says "I move for no man," which is similar to Sanjeev's stubborn and superior attitude throughout the story; and finally (and this one's a streeeeeeetch), all that remains of the Black Knight after his encounter with King Arthur is his torso, sort of like the silver bust of Christ that Twinkle brings down from the attic (teeheehahaha).
   

I was reminded of something we talked about in class while I was travelling back from Georgia after spending the duration of my spring break there with my fiance, Andy. Before break, we spent a good portion of one of our classes discussing the concept of "displacement" and what it means. When I looked back at some of the definitions we came up with during my THIRTEEN HOUR DRIVE BACK to good 'ole Indiana (yes, I took my HUST notes with me so I could study for the midterm...I know, I'm a nerd), I realized that I had experienced, witnessed, or talked about several of them over the course of my time in Georgia. I think the most efficient way for me to explain/demonstrate this is through some type of bullet list, so here we go. I've listed some of the definitions we came up with in class in red and followed them with the way in which I encountered that definition in blue (color coding that's both efficient AND patriotic...I know, I know, even I am impressed at my ingenuity sometimes):

• Being away from home : When I was in Georgia, I was away from my geographic home of Indiana. I have only been to Andy's apartment in Georgia one other time, and I definitely felt a little out of place in the area because it was still pretty unfamiliar. I didn't know what streets led to where, where the nearest grocery/convenient stores were, or how to navigate the area; it was definitely an unsettling feeling.
• Lonely : Okay, so saying I felt "lonely" sounds like a major bash to my fiance. I was never lonely while I was with him, but there were a few times when he had to report to base for work (he's a 2nd LT in the army), and without him around, I definitely felt a little lonely, especially since I was in an unfamiliar setting. This kind of makes me think that displacement can be both a physical AND emotional sensation, and that feeling "displaced" in one of these areas has a direct effect on the feeling of "displacement" in the other. My emotional sense of displacement was exacerbated by my physical one.
• Forced to leave; unsafe : Ok, so I was not FORCED to go to Georgia and I certainly wasn't "unsafe" there, but I did encounter this definition through a conversation with Andy, who had just finished Ranger School (I was there for his graduation). For those unfamiliar with the Army, I'll give a very brief, layman's definition of Ranger School: two months of hellish survivor training in which the participants are deprived of food, sleep, and any communication with the "outside" world apart from letters. So, when Andy was roughing it out in the mountains in -18 degree wind chills, tired and hungry, I would definitely qualify him as being "unsafe." He told me that he has never been that cold in his life and that there was actually a point during which he felt like he was actually going to die. I am definitely glad I only had to hear about this type of "displacement" rather than experience it for myself.
• A break in routine : Ok, so this was a BIG one for me. Usually, my routine is what keeps me sane throughout the day (I'm kind of anal), and when it's broken, I feel like everything is just crashing down on me. When I went to Georgia, everything about my routine changed: when, where, and how I worked out; when and what I ate; how I spent my free time; etc. This also ties in to another definition our class came up with: feeling out of sorts, which happened to me when my routine got messed up.

I have already probably surpassed my ramble quota in this blog, but I want to do a quick follow-up on these definitions of "displacement" that I encountered on my trip by answering a question that was posed to us in class and using the answer to that question to tie into something that Scott Russel Sanders said in his essay, "Writing from the Center." The question posed in class regarding displacement was "Can it be temporary?" My experience in Georgia proved to me that it can. Although there were times that I felt a "break" in my routine, "out of sorts," "lonely," and "away from home"--in other words, that I felt "displaced"--there were also times that I felt just as safe and as firmly in place in Georgia as I do when I am at Saint Mary's or at my actual home with my family. When I was spending time with Andy watching movies, laughing, or just hanging out, or when I was writing poetry (something I enjoy doing), I felt totally at ease. This proves that the feeling of displacement--whether emotional or physical--can be overcome. In "Writing from the Center," Sanders tells us that "[n]o matter where we live, the energy of creation flows in each of us, every second" (162) and that"we already dwell in the place worth seeking" (164). This implies that if we do lose ourselves--if we do find ourselves suddenly "displaced"--we can overcome that condition by tapping into "the energy of creation" that dwells within us and using it to discover the things that make us personally feel most firmly in place.