This year has certainly been one for solidifying opinions, behavior, attitude- personality. It's hard to reflect on the last few years- or even this year- without looking through the eyes of my current mindset, which is one clouded by the eagerness for a new environment. This attitude is one of which I'm not very fond of. I can't do anything to help it; it's as involuntary as senioriotis (actually, I think this might be part of senioritis). The point is, with this attitude, there is a fog of constant pessimism I can't get through. Hence, I might be a little more criticizing of myself than usual.
I liked to see myself as an optimist, a humanist, someone aiming for genuity in everything they do. I also like to live in the moment, which is why applying for college and planning so far ahead was more of a chore than I planned. Though I found this way of thinking comfortable, I think I've let myself fall too far into it. By being too laid back, -and now, hoping for that environment change to come too quickly- too many things have escaped me. Though I've learned a bit more about myself, I've learned things I almost wish I never found out.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Truth About "Truth"
For Wolves in the Walls, the truth is only known by an innocent child. When trying to explain, she's ignored, her point being viewed as a ridiculous idea from a mere child.
In “How to Tell a True War Story,” the truth is only known to the soldier. If the soldier went and told a war story, the listener would end up being concerned only to its validity- which, to the soldier, did not matter; the story is real whether or not it happened.
Dickinson’s three poems describe Truth in itself. The first, about how it must be told: in moderation. The second, how it is unfailingly strong. The third, how timeless and enduring it is.
The three (I missed one of the children's books) have their own spin on Truth, but compare in the way that they view it is up to the interpreting to know Truth itself. They also recognize the power of Truth- how it may be voiced as a warning from a child, a memory from a weakened soldier, or exist in a stronger form on Earth than what is tangible-, and how it takes a patient listener to recognize Truth.
I liked O'Brien's "How to Tell a True War Story," most, maybe because I know the rest of the book as well. While reading it in my English class, some of my classmates were very hung up on what was real or not. However through discussion and prompting from the teacher, we arrived at the conclusion that why should it matter?
What's written is written, what's read is read; what O'Brien writes are memories from his head.
Whether or not the stories actually occurred is irrelevant. They could have happened, and that is the only truth needed for something to exist- the mere existence of possibility and someone believing it is true.
In “How to Tell a True War Story,” the truth is only known to the soldier. If the soldier went and told a war story, the listener would end up being concerned only to its validity- which, to the soldier, did not matter; the story is real whether or not it happened.
Dickinson’s three poems describe Truth in itself. The first, about how it must be told: in moderation. The second, how it is unfailingly strong. The third, how timeless and enduring it is.
The three (I missed one of the children's books) have their own spin on Truth, but compare in the way that they view it is up to the interpreting to know Truth itself. They also recognize the power of Truth- how it may be voiced as a warning from a child, a memory from a weakened soldier, or exist in a stronger form on Earth than what is tangible-, and how it takes a patient listener to recognize Truth.
I liked O'Brien's "How to Tell a True War Story," most, maybe because I know the rest of the book as well. While reading it in my English class, some of my classmates were very hung up on what was real or not. However through discussion and prompting from the teacher, we arrived at the conclusion that why should it matter?
What's written is written, what's read is read; what O'Brien writes are memories from his head.
Whether or not the stories actually occurred is irrelevant. They could have happened, and that is the only truth needed for something to exist- the mere existence of possibility and someone believing it is true.
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