Author: hayeshandler

“Dolly,” by Alice Munro is a snippet into a life, but it barely is that.  What it does provide is a humanistic view of how we react in certain situations.  Munro is able to accomplish this by writing this story with very little background as to who the characters are. 

“He is in fact a poet.  He is really a poet and really a horse trainer…  He doesn’t stress the poetic employment…I call it his aw-shucks persona- but I can see the point. When you’re busy with horses people can see that you are busy, but when you’re busy at making up a poem you look as if you’re in a state of idleness and you feel a little strange of embarrassed having to explain what’s going on.”

This simple passage is so very telling and completely relatable for me as a writer.  I understand this need to be something else as well as a writer.  Saying you are writing is often not considered concrete work.  There is so much thought that goes into it, so much revision and reading and thinking. And often, as this passage states, just being in a state of idleness and thought.  This idea that people just see you in this state of not accomplishing something is so very true.  It may appear that Franklin has an “aw-shucks persona” but really there is a difficulty in admitting to being a writer, it is hard to actually own that.  There is always a question that I find with artists being able to own their art, that they have a grave difficulty saying that they are an artist, a musician, a poet.  There is an assumption that all of someone’s income needs to be made from this art if they are deemed to be accomplished.   

Munro does an excellent job of character description from this small reveal in the quoted text. This is the remarkable talent of a writer.  In this example, a twist on their own occupation.  I admire how much character description can be derived from these descriptors.  It is through telling the story rather than description that the reader is extract the personalities of character. 

Hayes Handler Cultural Report from, I Stand Here Ironing

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1X5ZoufqEaLbuPyRib_gYQDtPykHapIeSvTp-9pfc8Eo/edit?usp=sharing

Sweeping Past

This short story by Yiyun Li is based primarily on the story of a photograph.  What starts out as a somewhat cliché story, where the main characters are reflecting on a photograph from the past, works its way into a traumatic story.  I found it imbalanced that so much of the story is spent focused on the photograph versus the shocking story that unfolds later.

Essentially, I walked away from this story pondering the idea of forgiveness and blame.  How these two things coincide yet are fueled and reached by such varied circumstances.  It reminds me of how easily we misplace emotions when trying to cope with trauma.  The blame that falls on Ailin is an example of how we as humans, can make odd choices when dealing with tragic circumstances.  The reactive decision to blame someone is often our first instinct and forgiveness takes time.  It is surprising that in this story there is no resolve.  This kind of irrational blame is taken on for the entirety of the story and presumably their lives.  Li addresses this by having Ailin say, “to understand that hatred, as much as love, did not come out of reason but a mindless nudge of a force beyond one’s awareness.”

Yiyun Li does a wonderful job of creating a story that is jarring and memorable from a common thread and universal understanding of human emotion and displacement of anger, sadness and disappointment. 

The Hearing Trumpet by Lenora Carrington is a story that unravels through the parallel of a mind unravelling.  This story is deceptive as the reader is uncertain whether we are in an altered state or unknown perception of the protagonist’s ability to communicate.  We are unsure of what to understand by the narrator.  When we are able to get into this perspective and mindset, it is written in a most fascinating means.  Particularly striking to me was when this was exhibited on page 23.  The passage here was writing in a such an intriguing perspective. 

“You may not believe in magic but something very strange is happening right now.”   What Carrington does here is bring us into a breaking of the mind, of reasonable and orderly thought.  It is what we assume happens near the end of life.  When synapses and parts of our brain give out.  This is similar to what people try to achieve while on drugs.  There are places in our brain that we do not have access to.  I once heard a lecture at Spirit Rock, in which the presenter was speaking about the vastness of our brains.  To allow the audience perspective, they had us imagine the brain being a mile in distance.  They then told us that what we access of that mile is about 1-3 steps.  As we get older and parts of our brain shut down, I believe that other parts of our brain fire off synopsis to compensate.  This I believe is what is happening here in this story. I find it fascinating that Carrington writes into this part of our psyche and does it in such a poetic way. 

“Your head has dissolved into thin air and I can see the rhododendrons through your stomach.  It’s not that you are dead or anything dramatic like that, it is simply that you are fading away and I can’t even remember your name.  I remember your white flannels better than I can remember you.  I remember all the things I felt about the white flannels but whoever made them walk about has totally disappeared.”

This passage is so brilliantly written and elicits a powerful image but also lets us into the mental process of someone that is struggling with aging.  The last line in particular when the narrator states that they have feelings towards the clothing but whomever wore them she cannot remember.  Beyond this, she says, “whoever made them walk about.”  That is such a beautiful description instead of simply saying whomever wore them, instead makes us see them in motion and moving. 

There is a lightness to this passage as well, a giving over rather than a panic.  In our “right mind” this may cause anxiety or fear, not being able to place or face something you ordinarily know so well.  However, the narrator remains calm and presents and as though it almost comically.  I love this perspective as she lets go and simply accepts what is happening. 

On Friday March 6^th, I attended the poetry workshop at The Downtown Oakland Senior Center.  Jennifer King was the facilitator and is a graduate of Mills. I got to know the woman sitting next to me before the start of the class.  Due to her hearing aids, she wasn’t able to understand me completely, which turn out to be just as well.  I found, for the first time when talking with this group, the assumption that upon referring to my ex- that I was referring to a man.  She just kept going on about my husband and her husband.  It made the use of the wrong pronoun seem like nothing. I was not offended but it was not the space to correct or teach about these assumptions, especially with the lack of hearing.  That added an additional obstacle. 

In spite of that, it was really sweet to see some of the seniors that were at our previous class.  Ione whom I sat with at our last class, arrived late. Yet, as soon as they entered, we smiled at each other and they came and sat right next to me.  It was just like seeing an old friend.  I shared one of my pieces of poetry with the class and most of them felt as though it was too abstract even though it was pretty contextual.  We laughed a lot about it and I found their impressions insightful. 

After class, Ione and I caught up and talked.  We agreed that we were looking forward to seeing each other again soon. Another member of the group stopped me on my way out and asked about copyrighting.  I assured them that I was no expert but that I did know some things as I used to have my own greeting card company.  I am saddened that our visits have been postponed this semester.  I do hope to be able to visit the center to see some of these friends again. 

Monday’s visit to the Downtown Oakland Senior Center was such a refreshing surprise.  After reading the class’s reactions to their previous visit, I wasn’t surprised by the looks or energy of those attending the meeting, but more so, the depth in which I felt my connection with these women went. 

I found the candidness and rawness of these women refreshing, engaging and encouraging.  The book A Dark Flood Rises, served briefly as a backdrop for our introductions into conversation.  Really though, it was hearing about their lives.  We swapped stories and laughed and it felt as though we were hanging out as I do when I meet a new friend.  I honestly do not know why it was so easy to engage in conversation, perhaps the age difference allows there not to be what I can only describe as a competition or comparison.  Our lives are currently functioning in such different places that it is simply refreshing to hear what it feels like to retire, what one wants to accomplish before death, connecting with grandchildren, and what they fill their time with now. 

I went deep with Angelina talking extensively about politics.  I usually never talk about politics but our philosophies aligned and we were so engaged that we went on until she was supposed to leave for another writing class at the center.  She left briefly but then returned saying the class had been cancelled and she was so happy to reengage in conversation.  At this point however, the rest of our table was talking about music and technology.  We genuinely shared a great connection and laughed a lot.  It was so sweet that myself and Lila spoke during the beginning of class and our fellow tablemates seemed genuinely proud of us.  I, having only met them for a few minutes briefly and Lila, having spent time with them at the last visit.  By the end of our time together, it literally felt not like I was spending time with “older people,” but actually establishing meaningful relationships.  I suppose being in my 40’s, one of my closest friends is in her 60’s so she would be considered a senior in this circumstance.  In reality, these folks are people that it would not be unusual for me to spend time with.  I really cannot speak to our conversations regarding the assigned reading because we were too engaged in life conversations to even get there.  I am very much looking forward to more time spent with my new friends.