A Brief and Slightly Nonsensical Musing on Reincarnation



I should love to have
this hat.

 Do you, my dearest readers, believe in reincarnation? I didn't, and am not quite sure that I do now. But I find myself 89.97899% sure that I have, in fact, been reincarnated. So I am thus inspired to cheerfully begin a brief and probably not very profitable quest on mining out exactly what I think. Perhaps we may convince ourselves of something (...I wouldn't count on it, though).
 To make things scholarly and legit, I shall list a definition of reincarnation:
                  Re·in·car·na·tion/ˌrē-inkärˈnāSHən/Noun

1. The rebirth of a soul in a new body.
2. A person or animal in whom a particular soul is believed to have been reborn.
The basis for my own questioning belief in my reincarnation is actually quite simple: from a young age, I have always loved old things. Seriously, how many modern 10 year olds do you know who watched period dramas of their own decision and liking them? Actually, this number might actually be really high, if only for the homeschoolers coming forth in all their awesomeness. But I don't really know any such 10 year olds. How many 12 year olds do you know who wanted to decorate their room after the Victorian vintage shabby chic style, instead of plastering their walls with various posters of greasy haired singers and commercially pouting actors? Although, this could have everything to do with the fact that my dad would kill me if I attempted to paste anything on my walls, especially a commercially pouting actor, and have nothing to do with my supposed reincarnation. Nevertheless, so it was for me. How many 13 year olds do you know who actually rather liked to go to antique stores? Now, this is a truly legitimate enquiry. I highly doubt that there are many such rare birds as that.
  So, I really love old things. That is my first piece of evidence. My second piece of evidence doesn't really look like evidence unless you turn your head a precise 90* and squint your eyes. It is this: I am really quite adept with things related to history and literature. But! This has a limit. I have never really liked learning modern-ish history, but this was confirmed when I recently took History of Civilization. The first semester went from...Creation, and stuff, and went to about 1800. I got an A in that class. The second semester went from 1800ish through modern stuff. I got a C. This is conclusive (*snort*) evidence that I am only good with history and such through the 1930s. After that, I am sunk. This leaves me to believe that if I am indeed reincarnated, it was before this time in history.
  Now let us go back to the definition of reincarnation: the rebirth of a soul in a new body. If my understanding is correct, there can be some time that passes between the death of the one body/soul thing before the soul is placed in a new body. Ta-da! Es moi, 1992! (Consequently, I turn 19 in less than 2 months). Thus, it may be assumed that my soul has passed from body to body consistenly from the beginning of time (after, you know, Adam and stuff...) right through the entire course of history until the 30s. My soul unconciously recognizes the things about history that it remembers and loves, and it translate through to this reincarnation of myself.
  Though I am still not entirely sure that my soul has existed that long, one cannot doubt that there is a strong possibility that it may be so. At least, despite all this rambling in a silly way, I have accomplished my three-fold purpose of putting down my silly thoughts in writing, distracting both myself and you from my literary quest, and keeping you entertained enough to read this drivel. :)
  Dear readers, I do love you. Hope you have an amazing day.

The Scarlet Letter Round 2

  I have finished The Scarlet Letter, dear readers. For some reason I just had the hardest time sleeping the other night, so voila! 20 chapters finished in 4ish hours. My general impression of the book? Well, it was incredibly sad for me. You know the feeling you get when you are watching a movie, and you can't help but like the hero of the story, but you have a certain kinship for the villain as well? Or that moment in a movie when everything is exquisitely and poignantly perfect for the leading couple, but you know that it can't last, that their happiness is doomed even as it enfold before your eyes? Yeah, I had that feeling through the majority of the narrative. A kind of doomed bittersweetness. Sort of. Maybe. :) Or maybe I was just a little woozy from the lack of sleep.
  I should also probably note that I come to finish this post at least 4 different times and have been unable to finish it. For some reason I got the hugest mental block when I came to write stuff down. Then, I realized that I was overthinking it and actually kind of viewing it like an English paper that I have to write. My dear readers, this is not English class (despite the fact that I love my En classes) and you are not my professors who will be giving me a grade. So, I am just gonna...wing it. And use totally unacceptable academic writing terms such as 'gonna'.

  One more thing: Spoiler Alert! Beware!

  A prevailing theme that I noticed throughout the novel was beauty. Physical beauty, beauty of things (i.e. luxurious things), beauty of the personality, total absence of beauty, etc. What I also noticed was that the idea of beauty was implicitly connected to the idea of secret sin...sorta. Bear with me, I have some evidence.

  In chapter five, 'Hester at Her Needle', Hawthorne details Hester's normal life after the incident on the scaffold; how she got her living, where she lived, but most importantly how she and her village interacted. Keep that thought, I am jumping really quickly to a relevant point. Later on in chapter eight, 'The Elf-Child and the Minister', there is a little passage about Puritans and luxurious things.

   "But it is an error to suppose that our grave forefathers...made it a matter of conscience to reject such means of comfort, or even luxury, as lay fairly within their grasp"  (pg. 96).
  I should say not. In chapter seven, Hawthorne gives details of the governor's house, which has these fantastic outer walls with crushed glass in them that sparkled like a jewel whenever the light hit the house (92).  This makes me think Real Housewives of Atlanta, not Puritan Colonial New England. The list of luxurious things that the governor brought over from England and kept goes on throughout the chapter.     Okay, back to the other point. In the middle of chapter five, there is a passage about the scarlet letter (which, despite its ignomious meaning, we know from the text is a beautiful thing) giving Hester a second sense about her fellow townsfolk:

  "Sometimes the red infamy upon her breast  would give a sympathetic throb as she passed near a venerable minister or magistrate, the model of piety and justice....'What evil thing is at hand?' would Hester say to herself. Lifting her reluctant eyes, there would be nothing human within the scope of view, save the form of this earthly saint!" (77, emphasis mine).

 Is it just coincidence that Hawthorne details for us the beauty of the governor's house, especially in light of this tidbit? Perhaps...but I don't really think so. Another thing about beauty and secret sin; when we finally get Hester and Dimmesdale (her unfortunate and rather wishy-washy lover) together to have a decent conversation, they hatch up this plan to escape the confines of their mutual guilt by running away with little Pearl back to the Continent where they can live in relatively perfect anonymity. Which is where the whole poignancy thing comes in, by the bye. We know that the whole happily ever after scheme (which, how HEA can it be, if the reason they had to run was adultery and deceit?...) cannot work, just because it is that kind of story, but you desperately wish for these people to just get some sort of peace and happiness. Anyway, they hatch up this plan. The notable thing about this encounter is the temporary change in Hester and Dimmesdale while they sit in the woods and talk details about this plan. We have it that after she had Pearl and everything, all her former beauty was apparently gone forever; she hid her glorious dark hair in a cap, she wore only the dingiest-colored clothes, her face was drawn and worried all the time. Yet see this transformation in her after she flings away her scarlet letter:

  "By another impulse, she took off the formal cap that confined her hair; and down it fell upon her shoulders, dark and rich, with at once a shadow and a light in its abundance, and imparting the charm of  softness to her features. There played around her mouth and beamed out of her eyes a radiant and tender smile, that seemed gushing from the very heart of womanhood. A crimson flush was glowing on her cheek, that had long been so pale. Her sex, her youth, and the whole richness of her beauty, came back from what men call the irrevocable past, and clustered themselves, with her maiden hope and a happiness before unknown, within the magic circle of this hour." (185, emphasis mine).

  Hawthorne also details the beauty of the little forest enclave they sit in, and how the sun finally peaks through the branches and further stuff like that. It is only when Hester has a hope of escaping the consequences of her sin that her lost beauty returns, and only for a brief period; she and Dimmesdale must return for what they think is just a few days to the village so they can prepare for their journey.
  There are even more allusions in The Scarlet Letter; allusions to the supernatural, to freedom, and to Satanic influence (which I suppose can be placed under the supernatural umbrella...). However, I think it is time for me to put aside the Hester and Chillingworth and Dimmesdale for now. After all, in a few weeks I have to get deep into it again for my classes.
  Speaking of which, my classes started today! It is a lot of work already, and I don't know if there was much wisdom in choosing to do 3 classes online. But I guess I will find out....
  So, for now, my friends, farewell!

 

 

The Scottish Play

 Good Saturday! I have finished The Scarlet Letter, and am in the midst of writing about the rest of the novel. But, alas, I haven't the time to finish that entry right now. And I was thinking about other blogs and other stuff, and I was kinda bored, so I decided to post a video from YouTube! Cause I love YouTube! So here is one of my favorites from The Reduced Shakespeare Company. Enjoy, luvs!

                                              Reduced Shakepeare Company's Macbeth

Return to Pen...Figuratively, at Least

 Good morrow, readers! Once again I have returned after an abysmally long absence--over a year, if my calculations are correct. Tis too sad, really. But I have a reasonably good excuse for it, I promise!
  College.
  Yes, my first year of college scholastics has come and gone. >throw some confetti for old times sake< Freshman English was a nightmare, History of Civilization wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be, and I am taking summer school, dear ones! Early Brit Lit lasted a fantastic 4 weeks and I was sad to see it go.
  But, to try and prevent any more long, unexplained absences from the cyber-realm, I have come up with a plan. See, for the past year and I half, my main interests have been English, English, English, grades, sleep, and English. So I thought, why not try and use my blog (poor, neglected thing) as a forum for my English-y thoughts? I have been trying to talk English with everyone I come in contact with but, let's be honest, I am not surrounded by fellow literary enthusiasts. The only other English enthusiast I know is Katie, and (sadly) I cannot be constantly nagging at her with my deep college-lit thoughts (though she would let me if she could, bless her! Love you, bestie!). So I have decided to put the figurative pen to the figurative paper and write out my English-y thoughts to my heart's content. Who knows, I may actually think up something mindblowing and earns millions of dollars for my discovery....yeah, I don't really think so either. :)
 Anyway....

  In two weeks, I begin another session of summer classes, amongst which includes Early American Literature. To try and get ahead, I have already begun reading the required novel: The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I have read through the 4th chapter thus far: 'The Interview'. I should mention that I will most likely be referencing lots of stuff that I have read in the story, so I guess they count as spoilers, even if they aren't that far into the book. If you have a sudden and overwhelming urge to read this novel for the first time, I highly recommend that you skip this part.

  I didn't have high hopes for The Scarlet Letter. I haven't really had the highest...appreciation for American Literature (because, honestly, British things are usually better on principle). I also started to read this book before, and I didn't get any farther than...the 4th chapter (irony...?). Plus, I already knew the story. What more did I need?  But reading (this far, at least) this time a round, I have been struck with Nathaniel Hawthorne's awesomeness as a writer. His descriptions of Puritan New England are amazing and vivid, especially of the Puritans themselves. I feel great sympathy for Hester Prynne, too. I guess that is the point of the novel, but really! Poor woman wasn't born to be a Puritan. She is described as having "an impulsive and passionate nature"--can you imagine being an impulsive and passionate Puritan? You would suffocate! Despite my compassion for Hester, I am more fascinated with the character of Roger Chillingworth, the unfortunate husband of the unfortunate Hester. He sent her ahead to the New World from Amsterdam, and spent about two years away; from what I can understand he had been travelling and living among the Indians. He comes to the Massachusetts colony to be ransomed from the Indians or something, and the first thing he sees upon entering town is his wife standing on a pedastal in the middle of the town with a scarlet A plastered on her chest and a baby that is most definitely not his. That alone would make me feel sorry for the poor guy. But in the 4th chapter, we get further insight into the character of Chillingworth.

  We learn that Chillingworth was already at least middle-aged by the time he married Hester. Born disfigured (one shoulder is higher than the other) and with a rabid scholastic fascination, he is not the best mate for the beautiful and vibrant woman who becomes his wife. But Chillingworth has this to say about his marriage:

 " 'True,' replied he. 'It [marrying Hester when he knew she did not love him] was my folly! I have said it. But, up to that epoch in my life, I had lived in vain. The world had been so cheerless! My heart was a habitation large enough for many guests, but lonely and chill, and without a household fire. I longed to kindle one! It seemed not so wild a dream--old as I was, and sombre as I was, and misshapen as I was--that the simple bliss, which is scattered far and wide for all mankind to gather up, might yet be mine. And so, Hester, I drew thee into my heart, into its innermost chamber, and sought to warm thee by the warmth which thy presence made there!'" (pg. 66).

  It is a long quotation, I know, but it captures the man's hopes precisely. Poor Roger Chillingworth! However, Chillingworth will not be the type of guy to languish in agony of spirit. Though he might have had deep affection for Hester, it is apparent that if that affection isn't entirely gone it is going to be pushed under the proverbial rug in the quest to ruin Hester's lover. When I was reading the passage when he is discussing the matter with Hester I actually got a few goosebumps. His matter-of-fact, even almost pleasant tone in the passage is chilling (pun slightly intended). Bear with me: I am going to put down one more somewhat lengthy quote--my favorite in my reading thus far. After Chillingworth makes Hester swear to keep his identity a secret, they end their interview in this way:

  " 'Why dost thou smile so at me?' inquired Hester, troubled at the expression of his eyes. 'Art thou like the Black Man that haunts the forest round about us? Hast thou enticed me into a bond that will prove the ruin of my soul?'

  'Not thy soul,' he answered, with another smile. 'No, not thine!'" (68).

 Gah! One might be tempted to feel sorry for Hester's lover (whose identity I won't mention in this entry). Yet despite the creepiness of Chillingworth's implied revenge, I think I like him best of all. However, I shall have to continue reading to find out if this first opinion holds.

 Goodnight, my readers! Pleasant dreams, pleasant reading (if you like to read, anyway...whatever).

Bibliography:

   Hawthorne, Nathaniel. The Scarlet Letter . New York: New American library, 1999. Print.