Esmerelda's Gate: Jane's Error

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Jane's Error

Third cancer surgery over, now all I CAN do is lie about and read. My dream come true but alas I am restless. Well, I continue to struggle through Jane Eyre, wanting more of the Bronte's after reading their historical biography. Now Jane is displaying the error of her decision in her misery. She has left the love of her life behind, and hides penniless on the moor, her heart filled with pain and confusion. No amount of disregard for another human being --especially one of the opposite sex --would engender such feelings. Not a whit of freedom or relief does she feel. She's gone quite mad instead with passionate devotion and overwhelmingly: love. Too stubborn to admit, too goody-two-shoes of a devout shrew and she is whistling in the darkness. I feel absolutely no sympathy for her, only for the good man she has abandoned after forcing him to pour his heart out to her. I don't care for such behavior. As much empathy I have for unrequited love, who is the elite snob now, Jane? I write later ... how can Jane truely see St John Rivers a good man, a Godly man? Amazed that after all this she is still only 19 but she has shown some mature good sense so far. He is not a Christan but an obsessed clergyman who will shame the gentle Hindus into converting. He is the worst Christianity has to offer. He is the reason many of us question the Church, any Church. Zealotry in any fashion is more than passion, it is the sheer opposite of reason and thus a danger to the unlucky soul placed in the path of such a cleric. Run, Jane, see Jane run again ... Having said all that, I finally finished the book and found I could not then set it down. A very distracting and disturbing story; an apt description of Jane as well. It stuck with me. I almost feel more fully formed for having read this book. It seemed to channel Charlotte throughout and I felt very close to her. Strange.

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Auschwitz

The largest of the Nazi death camps, it exterminated over 1 million prisoners, mostly Jewish, although it was originally used for political prisoners, homosexuals, gypsies and Communists. Located in southern Poland, it also served as the location for Joseph Mengele's gruesome medical experiments. Today it serves as a memorial to the horrors of WWII and the Third Reich, indeed as a testament to the savagry of mankind as one of the most civilized, disciplined countries in the world took it upon itself to destroy the lives, the dignity, the rights of others in the most despicable way possible: with absolute precision and automation.

Abu Ghraib

From 2003-2004, members of the 320th Military Police Battalion engaged in humiliating and tortured abuse of Iraqi detainees in the Abu Ghraib military prison. After photos were published to worldwide outrage, 17 soldiers were convicted and imprisoned including the ringleaders, Specialist Charles Graner and Specialist Lynndie England. Of note, the prison had been used by Sadaam Hussein to perpetuate worse atrocities upon prisoners but the photos of Abu Ghraib from the American military proved to be deadly for the forces in the field serving in Iraq.

Nanook of the North

When the producer of the film "Nanook of the North" lived in the Arctic, he left behind a son named Josephie who subsequently had a daughter named Martha. Went Josephie went to live with the exiles in Griese Fiord, she ended up acting as his son in the hunting role and dreaded every dark, freezing scary moment of it. When she grew old enough she left that life behind to become a nurse. She began writing letters to the Canadian government and it was her efforts that eventually resulted in justice for the exiles.

Band of Brothers

"Wild Bill" Guarnere and "Babe" Heffron were paratroopers of HBO's' famous Band of Brothers series. Still best friends, they remember the cold winter of Bastogne, the sounds of training in England and the feeling of being overwhelmed continuously due to lack of supplies and support. How they managed to beat the Germans is by sheer overwhelming non-stop relentless will, something we shared with the Nazis but somehow squeaked by on our side by killing more of them than they of us. What's sad is the commentary on the current state of our union compared to that of the WWII years when humans were practically saints to today's self-centered ego maniacs.

The Happiness Project

Can't find my copy of the book so will have to write from decrepit memory. The author moves through different areas of her life from love to organization and tackles them individually while staying connected to the big picture, which is her family unit. She is trying to find pure happiness in her everyday life in order to make the best use of her time and energies. Her ideas are not exactly ground breaking and at times seem like an AE.Characters.Com scene but on a gentle level offer some little ideas for the big world.

The Return of Dhimmitude

In the 8th century, the Caliph of Cordoba, Spain (known then as al-Andalus), built a cathedral-style mosque over the largest Christian church, San Vicente. The mosque brought home some of the Umayyad dynasty's beloved Syria by orienting its qibla - prayer direction to Mecca - as it would be in Damascus. There and then, Jews and Christians lived in dhimmitude under their Muslim conquerors. It was a time of peace, which is what occurs under submission to Islam. It's an end run pass on claiming Islam stands for peace rather than submission. It's all about peace once you give in.

The Hills are Alive

The chatty little musical is almost the children's version of this true story. In reality, their research into and use of translated ancient musical pieces form a large part of the story, especially as they have a priest as their composer and conductor! What I really missed most in the film version was the picture of kindness the Trapps found in refuge -- in America being of Austrian descent during World War II. Not but for a brief period in their new Vermont home did they encounter fear of fifth columnists in the midst, an encounter they quickly resolved by donating a free concert to help re-build the community school roof. Maria's faith is the heart and soul of this book but brotherhood in America is a topic she returns again and again to, writing, "While this most cruel of wars was inflicting deeper and deeper wounds upon humanity, a group of people in a forlorn corner of the mountains had discovered how to create that good will to which is promised peace on earth: by giving and not counting; each one giving all he has; his time, his skills, his effort, leaving behind a wake of that feeling about which there is so much talked and written, but so little experienced: the feeling of true brotherhood."

Being There

I wasn't really THERE but I was there enough to be sort of there in a very special little place, hiding like a very discontented little mouse. Watching the CPA's inpeptitude unfold was a nightmare, a daily walking waking nightmare. It was like we had given a box of crayons to kindergartners and told them to resolve the Israel-Palestine conflict. Every day I sat with placid face listening to the briefs while by brain flashed Edward Munch's The Scream ... no, that's hilarious. I have never sat anywhere placidly. I went off on my superiors, I bad-mouthed my commander-in-chief, I was a bad, bad airman but at least I can say I did NOT hold my peace and I can say, with absolutely no satisfaction whatsoever: I told you so. Next time listen to me.

Those Bronte Bitches

Emily and Charlotte write as the Bronte's lived: hidden passions comforted by devotion to God and various other duties. Rather a sickening amount of suffering brought on by themselves and their cold, gloomy, isolated life on the moors. I would watch the movie "Jane Eyre" to be sure, for the visuals if nothing else, but it would be agony that I would sit through every scene filled with doom and dread for how she is about to screw things up with her Christian and cultural ethics. God surely does not expect Mr Rochester to remain married to a madwoman chained in the attic nor for him to suffer for this blasphemy of nature and it's absurd for Jane to think so. She's absurd. As absurd as Catherine for abandoning Heathcliff. Later ... and now, in her tryst w/the Rivers, as much a Bronte home as any in the story thus far she martyrs herself in such a way she swore not to do for Rochester. She is truely Charlotte Bronte in these roles, pining for her lost French mentor. I used to turn the pages in the same langour with which it was written, now I race to the end. How can this end good with all of Jane's, er Charlotte's mental confusion and self abuse?

Hiding the truth

William Tyndale was burned at the stake by the Catholic Church for translating the Holy Bible into English. It was not until the advent of the printing press that the pressure became too great for even the Papacy to suppress and out came The Words like lemmings, leading the peasants to jump over cliffs in droves. The pilgrims rejected the made up Church of England, brought the Bible to America and hundreds of Americans were inspired to hard labor, stolid citizenship and the use of the best parts from the Ages of Reason and Enlightenment. Sadly, and also to exterminate the Indians and entire species of wildlife. This is a mis-read and must not go overlooked but just as Eli turned his head away from the suffering of others for a higher purpose, the 21st century, Hollywood, is NOT the apex of human civilization. There are much, much deeper implications in the meaning of life than rampant consumerism and self-gratification. I pray for the dolphins that our thirst for oil is killing. Better to take it from the desert and crush those who plan for the end of our world in order to fulfill the tenets of their faith. And that includes the Orthodox hairlock-twiddling Jews living safely and derisively under the Israeli flag. Go pray in the desert. Next to the oil wells.

Out of a hundred eighty-five, Not a soldier crossed the line

I re-read this book due to an upcoming TDY to San Antonio, an inredible city where I not only attended my Army Advance Training, the first "life" I had post-Basic Training and thus holds a special kind of pride-filled glamor for me, but the mere sight of the tiny brave little Alamo, the touch of the cold stone of the chapel, the ghost of Jim Bowie still hovers over those of his men, 182 of the bravest men in American history. Certainly they mostly fought for immediate benefit, for land grants, for a chance in their new country, for political gain, but in the end they fought for brotherhood and for belief in what this country stood for. In their death, they provided a larger win than an actual battlefield win for "Remember the Alamo" has been a rallying cry ever since. The story continues to send proud shivers down my spine.

Scope for the imagination

There is likely no greater "scope for the imagination," in the words of Anne of Green Gables, than the moors of southern England. And thus one grows twisted and gnarled or mentally fey while, in the case of Emily Bronte, building a passion greater than any wind that ever wailed across her glum stone hearth. Yet, she never knows the passion of Charlotte or even the weak brother so where does the magic of Heathcliffe arise? I must keep reading to discover if Emily's passion ever emerges from anywhere other than the made-up Gondol of childhood, from which swarthy heroes emerge to entice even the grown-up Charlotte in her savagely unrequited sexual desire for her French tutor. Is there any stronger longing?

A Thousand Frogs

After a good rain, the mangroves resonate with the lust of a thousand throbbing frog throats. They croak in unison then lie silent together, awaiting a response in their wet paradise. Unfortunately for Hagar, lying with Abraham earned her & her son expulsion to the desert, destined by the Lord who promised to, "greatly multiply your desendants that they cannot be numbered for multitude." (Genesis 16:10) If the Universe pulses with ancient gods and goddesses, all of whom fight amongst themselves eternally, answering the call of witches to intervene in the affairs of mankind, is it possible that God and gods enjoy strife? Particularly in watching us go at it? Ishmael and Hagar weren't the first innocents cast out to fend for themselves amongst hostile strangers in a harsh wilderness. Do we exist as amusing toys or noted using our complex cerebrums to resolve issues rationally and humanistically? The latter begs to be obvious. God's will is one thing; taking God's vengeance into your own hands is quite another. Does the UN have a stance on this?

Israel Betrayed

Efraim Karsh knocks down the wall. The wall of illusion that is. The illusion that the Arabs who call themselves Palestinians (early Jews and Christians of the area are also Palestinians) were forced off their land by the Zionists and denied the "Right of Return," many clutching the keys to their old house in wrinkled tear-speckled hands. The late ancestor of the ultimate sacrifice-your-people-for-the-cause, perpetrator of Palestinian suffering, Yassir Arafat, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem was complicit with Hitler in his personal jihad to drive the Jews from Palestine. We know what happened when Israel was declared two states: local leaders launched a jihad and the Arab armies rolled in. They got their butts kicked shortly by the Zionists and crept back home to everafter keep their own Palestinian refugees in camps w/out rights and otherwise ignore them other than to use them for their own jihad purposes. When Israel turned over the Gaza Strip to the PA, it was quickly -- after destroying all means of making a livelihood -- turned into a Hamas base camp from where they regularly launch actual live rockets upon actual live civilians of Israel. Unlike the US, which declares itself not at war but gives an end date for whatever it is it is doing, Hamas has declared war with an end state found in the Koran. Read "The Original Sin." The book review itself contains more historical facts than an entire week of The New York Times. (You have to add the final = yourself, 17 May) http://nrd.nationalreview.com/article/?q=MjAxMDA1MTc=

No Quarter

Greyhawk over at The Mudville Gazette, writes an excellent piece, http://www.mudvillegazette.com/o33683.html not exactly defending our current Rules of Engagement but essentially telling us not to panic, that they are foundationally sound, proven by the success of the Iraqi surge, and an extension of Pres. Bush's policies. It doesn't explain how Marjah comes to be described by GEN McChrystal as "a bleeding ulcer" and raises the question of the planned American pull-out of Afghanistan next summer, as "colliding with the realities of the war." Don't you hate it when reality rears its ugly head? For example, "Israeli Commandos Defend Country; Rest of World Goes Crazy with Condemnation." Too bad we never read such a headline in 1939.

Evolution Takes a Wrong Turn?

Why are the Russians who live above serf-level questioning and complaining about everything? Is it because they can? Is it merely the overheated response to plenty of money and too much time? Or is it a genuine concern for the way and path of mankind? I defer automatically to the former although not without a great amount of thought and reading of world history, given, if nothing else, the end result of the Russian search for societal and governmental perfection. Then again, our own freedoms are about to destroy us. Think about what the Russians did to the recent Somali pirates and how much good welfare money we spend defending the rights of ours.

Shoah

During Operation Spring Breeze, Vel d'Hiv was the winter velodrome where they housed the Auschwitz-bound detainees during the round-up of Jewish women and children - following the 1941 male round-up for "work camps," killed thousands and was conducted entirely by the French Vichy police under German orders. I don't forgive the French Army for their unpreparedness, I don't forgive the French government for their buckling under and collaboration, other countries' deals taking place with Hitler all over Europe and England and their military unpreparedness (Go Denmark -- who also hid the Jews en masse), nor the US for dragging its feet for so long in both wars, thinking we could and would remain unaffected. We go to war with or for our allies to keep Western civiliation intact regardless of what may be end in thankless interference (see Bosnia) or what ends in well-kept cemetaries in Normandy, little crosses with American names spread about the countryside and little old ladies who come up to you babbling in French and crying while pointing to a picture of an American soldier. Normandy remembers and Normandy thanks us. But that's not why we go to war. We go to war to stop the unthinkable. We go to war to keep the peace. And as hideous as war often becomes, the UN with its granting Human Rights oversight to Libya or Iran is not the answer and Pres Wilson bears the soft-hearted Christian responsibility for this. I do not forgive him either. But to those who had to make those horrible choices, I feel nothing but pity and gratitude that the closest thing we've had to experience was in hiding deserters & opposing Army soldiers during the Civil War or slaves of the Underground Railroad.

Books

Sportswriter and naturalist John Kieran said, "I am a part of all I have read." So I am many parts, which many of my friends and family laugh off as "schizophrenia." This is amusing to some of my personalities but not to all. Some of us think that those who mock me just haven't read enough books. I haven't even read enough books. There isn't enough time in the world to read and understand everything, especially with the "bunny trail" problem. One book mentions another and I put that on my list, which gets interrupted when I decide, as of late, that I want to read as much Russian literature as I can even though I swore I would start with American history next or get back into the war, then I started Eliot's Mill on the Floss but found her so overbearingly and unecessarily intellectual that I set it aside and picked up The Secret Life of Bees which was great poolside reading ... inside my crowded head, lives Alice's rabbit, rushing to & fro exclaiming, "Oh dear! Oh dear!"

War

Politics lacks any means of complete resolution. An arm of nations, bodies which most resemble the reptile in structure and behavior. Unable to control body temperature, pre-historic in nature, slow movements compensated by various venoms, major survival technique is camouflage & regeneration, even burdened by un-reptilian displays of emotion, they can still skitter off to regroup while the attacker is left holding nothing but a piece of tail. Destroy the "arm of politics" and you'll face nothing but a deluge of unhappy e-mails and UN-style banging spoons on high chairs (analogy credit to Kyle Burns); destroy the "arm of the military" and the warriors-turned-worker bees are too busy sweeping up rubble in the streets to so much as write a Letter to the Editor, much less file a complaint with the UN. Permanently damage breeding, laying and rearing safe havens and eliminate any threat from the next generation. War, is thus not the failure of politics but its inevitable outcome. Negotiations are nothing more than a time-buying tactic for the host as they tape "Kick Me" signs to the backs of enemy diplomats dancing to Nero's fiddle.

Russian Literature

Is there anything freer while being so complicated? There's no struggle to define nature when the serf is right there before you, the weather all over everything, & nothing but the foundation of Maslow's Hierarchy below. And yet they wrestle, they wrestle with words and thoughts and history, turning over each muddy stone as if the answer is there in some steppeian-poetry. Why do they do this I ask myself? Are the Russians that deep or do they merely do a good job in portraying themselves so? Erich Maria Remarque writes in All Quiet on the Western Front of his German soldier observing the Russian prisoners, guarding them during their quiet wait for death by dysentery and sharing cigarettes. A violinist plays folk songs "... and the others hum with him. They are like a country of dark hills that sing far down under the ground." Like the soundtrack of "Dr Zhivago," it evokes vivid, dark, rich pictures of Russia.