Book 9: Scott, Dentists, and McTeague.

When I was developing the list of classics I was going to work from for this challenge to myself, I showed the list to the literary minded people I know and asked for suggestions. Since many of the other employees at my park are literary nerds as I am, I figured they would be a great help, and they were.

Scott, in particular, was adamant that I add one book to my list. McTeague by Frank Norris. I had never heard of it and had no idea what it was about, but Scott assured me it was a great book and that I would like it.

So, as I began my challenge and began to read books, Scott wanted to know when I would read McTeague. I finally understood that he really wanted me to read it when he brought me his own copy so I could get cracking.

Looking at the novel, I still couldn’t tell what it was about. I am sure Scott told me at some point, but I think descriptions of books run together in my head into one big blur, so I didn’t remember. The back of the book didn’t help me too much, except for hinting that the book was set in San Francisco, there was going to be a lot of social commentary, and that it is an inevitable tragedy.

How informative.

I have taken it upon myself to learn more, since that simply will not do. Here is what else I have discovered about the mysterious McTeague.

The character of McTeague has no first name and he is a dentist. Of all professions, he has to be a dentist. Ugh.

The novel was first published in 1899, which is a time period where many of my favorite books were published. Frank Norris unfortunately died in 1902 at the age of 32. When he died, he left only McTeague and a few other works for us to read. That alone is reason enough for me to read it. You always have to wonder about the literary minds that die so young. What could they have achieved had they lived longer?

With all this in mind, I begin McTeague. Partly because I want to read it and know what happens to this dentist, but mostly because I was Scott to stop leaving threatening messages on my facebook wall.

Book 9, here I come.

Book 8: Finished.

For such a short little novella, The Old Man and the Sea packs something powerful that I found lacking in the other pieces I have read by Hemingway.

In short, an old man who is down on his luck goes out to sea fishing. He lands a great fish, a marlin, and battles with it for three days before he succeeds in killing it. By that time he is far at sea and must race back to land while sharks attack his catch and destroy the fish he has come to love and respect.

It’s clear that there are a lot of themes and metaphors in these 126 pages. The old man represents the old way of thinking and doing; the young boy the up and coming who are trying to learn from the old but improve on their techniques; and the marlin is the challenge, the essence of what both the old man and young boy are trying to attain—grandeur.

I read this in one sitting, while Matt was playing Guitar Hero and Hemi the cat (not named after Hemingway, but after the car engine) refused to cuddle on my lap. I think the only way to read this is in one sitting. It’s too hard to break away from the old man’s struggle.

I liked Hemingway’s writing style, which I knew from my previous readings of some of his short stories. It’s simplistic and to the point, a far cry from some other things I have read so far (*cough* Dostoevsky). The story is moving, sad, but really full of all the things that we have to find in ourselves at different times.

The old man has a lot to teach us: hope, faith, courage, conviction, passion, triumph, and loss. He faces this battle knowing that the fish must die, or he must die. He respects his enemy and victim, and thanks him for a worthy fight. And even though the sharks take away his victory when he finally pulls into shore, the skeleton of the great fish is a reminder to everyone who sees it of the strength of the old man.

Much like a scar, the skeleton of the marlin tells a story that only the owner can fully understand and appreciate.

And because Hemingway wrote down this story of courage and strength, we too can learn from the old man’s scar and see the skeleton for what it really is: a test of a person’s strength when all odds are against them.

I leave you with some favorite portions:

“Then he was sorry for the great fish that had nothing to eat and his determination to kill him never relaxed in his sorrow for him. How many people will he feed, he though. But are they worth to eat him? No, of course not. There is no one worthy of eating him from the manner of his behaviour and his great dignity.

I do not understand these things, he thought. But it is good that we do not have to try to kill the sun or the moon or the stars. It is enough to live on the sea and kill our true brothers,” (75).

“I must hold his pain where it is, he thought. Mine does not matter. I can control mine. But his pain could drive him mad,” (88).

“You are killing me, fish, the old man thought. But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother. Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who,” (92).

“Then his head started to become a little unclear and he thought, is he bringing me in or am I bringing him in? If I were towing him behind there would be no question. Nor if the fish were in the skiff, with all dignity gone, there would be no question either. But they were sailing together lashed side by side and the old man thought, let him bring me in if it pleases him. I am only better than him through trickery and he meant me no harm,” (99).

Book 8: My 5 Fish to His 2 Fish.

My paternal grandparents had a cottage in the northern part of the lower peninsula of Michigan, which has been passed on to my dad and his siblings. When we were younger, my grandparents would take my two older brothers and me up there with them all the time. Going up for a weekend trip with grandma and grandpa was always a treat, especially when we stopped at West Branch for McDonald’s.

There was one weekend in particular where I went up alone with Grandma and Grandpa during the summer (or everyone else was on their way and I just can’t recall at the time). I was young, maybe 6 or 7, but it is one of the most vivid memories from those years up there with them.

The cottage is on Otsego Lake, which is rather shallow, and as we jokingly say now, devoid of fish. Way back then we had better luck fishing and often caught big keepers off the end of the dock. On this particular trip, Grandpa and I decided to go fishing off the end of the dock.

Somehow I had managed to catch three fish to his two, when I snagged another fish and reeled him in. In the dim twilight I remember watching my grandpa trying to get the hook out of the fish, but the fish had swallowed it. Grandpa decided to go around to the garage to get a pair of pliers and left me in charge of watching the fish and his line.

While Grandpa was gone, I lowered my fish back in the water and watched him swimming a few inches from the surface of the lake. As I was watching my fish and neglecting my grandfather’s line, I saw a dark shadow approach my fish and linger. Squinting even closer, I realized it was another fish that had come to visit my victim. Instead of swimming away, the fish stayed right by my own fish, keeping him company.

Realizing that I could catch yet another fish, I lowered my grandfather’s line into the water slowly and wriggled the worm in front of the new fish. He grabbed on and by the time my grandpa came back from the garage with the pliers, I had two fish on the line.

After that night, I always teased Grandpa about being a better fisherman because I had caught 5 fish compared to his 2.

Now, you are lucky to catch one fish in that lake and usually it’s too small to keep.

I say all this knowing that I am diving into Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. It is a famous fishing story, perhaps not as epically huge as Moby Dick, but still about a man chasing a dream to catch the monster of all fish.

And as I read about the old fisherman and his battle with the marlin, I’m also going to think about my own grandfather, the fisherman and all those lessons her taught me before he passed away. I have many memories of him, and each memory is as strong as the one I have from that night, but not as touching.

He got down on the dock right beside me to look at the two fish I had caught—the one with a hook in its stomach, and the one who came to keep him company—and said,

“You cheated. You stole my line when my back was turned!”

The next time I went fishing with him, he made sure not to leave his pole untended and told me that even though I out-fished him that night, I would never have the chance to do it again.

And I never did.

Book 7 Part 3: The End of All Things.

I managed to finish The Return of the King in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. I lay down to read at 11:30 Tuesday night and didn’t stop until around 1:30, flying through the 200 pages I had left.

Even though I know the story so well, it stills leaves me with a great feeling of…awe. I love Tolkien’s world, his characters, the language, and the grandeur of what he accomplished in The Lord of the Rings. Even when you think you know the story completely, something surprises you.

During this reading, I particularly paid attention to the poems and songs the characters recall and sing. I remember in my first reading just skimming over them. And while many of them can be long and tedious, they really display the depths of Tolkien’s world.

In particular, I was drawn to this one, sung by Sam when he is drawing up the courage to rescue Frodo from Cirith Ungol:

“In western lands beneath the Sun
the flowers may rise in Spring,
the trees may bud, the waters run,
the merry finches sing.
Or there maybe ‘tis cloudless night
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.

Though here at journey’s end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the stars farewell,” (205).

It is a beautiful reflection of courage in a dark time and something I hope to remember in my own challenges.

Another of my favorite lines is said by Frodo:

“‘I am glad that you are here with me,’ said Frodo, ‘Here at the end of all things, Sam,’” (253).

It is just beautifully poetic and meaningful. I love the relationship between Sam and Frodo. Their friendship is so deep and powerful that Sam is willing, literally, to go to hell and back for Frodo, and carries him the last part of the way.

It really is due to Sam’s faith in Frodo that Frodo makes it, turning Sam as well into a hero in a story filled with heroic journeys.

The only other portion of the story I wanted to touch on was the part after the War of the Ring when the hobbits return to the Shire and Hobbiton to find it being run by Saruman, the wizard Gandalf destroys. That chapter in the novel seems to reflect the notion that home is not always safe and stagnant, that it too can change in the midst of war, even when you don’t expect it too.

I also think that it is one of two things that Peter Jackson left out of his movies that should have been put in (the other being Tom Bombadil).

In all, I loved reading this series again, but truth be told, I am glad to be moving on to new things that I don’t know as well. I think knowing this story so well made this hard on me to read.

No more Book 7. On to number 8!

Book 7 Part 3: The Journey of a Hero.

The concept of a hero’s journey is nothing new. Lots of people have had ideas about the qualities that define a hero. For those of us who have perhaps studied it a little more in an English class, you might recall the name of Joseph Campbell, who defined the steps of a hero’s journey and the path that one must take to even be considered a hero.

This journey is also referred to as a monomyth (you can search it on wikipedia, which has a good article about it) and basically describes the stages of a hero. Mainly that they are thrust into this role, go though trials and tribulations to define themselves, come to terms with their past, realize their potential, and eventually save the day!

Okay, I over simplified the idea, but I think you see what I mean. Since Campbell defined this process, you can apply it to a lot of characters from both books and films.

The original Star Wars movie, A New Hope, follows the journey fairly closely. Luke Skywalker fits many of the qualities of a hero. He’s born from some high and lofty parents, but lives a normalish childhood. He is eventually thrown into a situation where he faces challenges and has to come to terms with who he is. He ends up confronting his past and eventually saves the day.

In regards to books, there are many examples. I had to write about the whole journey in regards to Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game when I was a freshman in high school (by the way, Ender’s Game is one of my ultimate favorite books). In that novel, a young boy realizes his hero role in a rather unexpected way.

A more popular hero today is Harry Potter. He also goes through many of the stages of heroism. In fact, I think J.K. Rowling follows Campbell’s formula more closely than almost any other example I can think of.

The original hero, Odysseus, also follows many of the original steps outlined by Campbell. I have a feeling Campbell based everything off The Odyssey since it is the original story of heroism.

My favorite step of all of these heroes’ journeys is the piece where they confront themselves, the past, and usually visit the land of the dead, or the underworld. For Odysseus, he traveled to the underworld to consult those who died before him. There he learned more about what might be waiting for him at home when he finally did return from his struggle. Harry Potter also visits the land of the dead to talk with a character who died before giving him more knowledge. He also brings back the ghosts of the dead throughout a couple of the novels and confronts them in his own way. In the first Harry Potter book, Harry has to confront the images of his parents in the mirror he finds. Later on, actual ghosts appear in the graveyard scene and before his encounter with Voldemort and the Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest.

This all brings me back to The Lord of the Rings and the two heroes who emerge. The first I want to talk about is Aragorn. In a very literal sense, he walks through the Paths of the Dead very early on in The Return of the King to have the dead withhold an oath they made years prior. This step also solidifies Aragorn as king of Gondor because he gets the dead to withhold that oath, even though it was to h ancestor the oath was made. When he emerges from the Paths of the Dead, Aragorn finally makes the transition into a hero because he finally accepts that role.

The other hero is Frodo. Frodo encounters death and the underworld in many different variations throughout the series. Obviously when he goes to through the ring into Mount Doom he is facing the idea of death, especially when Gollum fights him for the ring. There he is faced with the ultimate struggle between life and death. He also faces death on Weathertop, when he is stabbed by the Nazgul’s blade and starts the transformation into a wraith.

More importantly, the ring itself is Frodo’s constant struggle with the dead. It is a constant temptation to give in to Sauron’s power and commit to evil and the destruction of Middle-Earth. In the end, it is Frodo’s decision to get of the ring that saves him and makes him into a hero. He can’t really be called a hero until that decision is made, or at least that is what Campbell’s theory says.

Both of those heroes in this trilogy are different. I see Aragorn as the token hero. He is meant to be a hero. Frodo is the unlikely one so of course, he is the one we all route for. His course and decision seem to be far more difficult than Aragorn’s decision on whether or not to take on the role as King.

This has to make you wonder whether we bestow the title of “hero” too lightly. I know that as a kid my heroes were the people I saw on TV or movie screens, not necessarily people who were really deserving of that title. Now I look more to humanitarians, soldiers, and people who are striving to make a difference as my heroes.

And of course, authors. :)

Are there any qualities you think a true “hero” should have?