Adult Memory Control

"My memory is now under the control of the person I now want and strive to be, and so rarely under the control of the facts." (18, Passing for White, Passing for Black)


When reading the article, I was struck for some reason by this line. Piper was describing her feelings towards journals she kept since age 11 after she reread them. What I want to discuss or explore is  this issue or idea of being caught in between worlds it is reflected as an adult. When Piper reread her journals she says she was astounded by her chasm between her present perception of the past and her actual past events. What she was describing here reminds me of the characters of Symptomatic. Greta, being an older woman, didn't look at her past the way Piper did. The social awkwardness and rejection of being biracial in the past affected Greta to an extent where she couldn't properly come to terms with her identity as an adult. Therefore using the narrator as a scape goat; in a way living her life through the narrator. Her memory remained under the control of her past, of the person that was marked by the negative aspects of being biracial. Her memory was controlled by the facts of her past; the facts of how she was mistreated by others. This lack of acceptance within Greta drove her sanity off the roof.Piper on the other hand, understood the facts of her past, the facts of the actual events of the past and decided to control them by the accepting her self as a biracial woman as an adult. She chose to associate her memory with the new woman she wanted to be.

Passing: Symptomatic

In my views, passing is when the external appearance and to a certain extent behavior of a person unintentionally or intentionally passes for another race and/or identity.

This idea of passing is well interwoven within the text of Symptomatic. Perhaps I wasn't at all focused on the protagonists race; I was more inclined to her story than her history.  I hadn't a clue that she was biracial, I assumed she was white who liked black men from time to time, however it wasn't until she interviewed Ivers Greene where I got that "oh" moment. That moment where I finally realized she was more than just white.

""Can I ask you a question? "Yeah." He whispered it. "Are you a quadroon?" " (104)

Her reaction to this question  made it clear that she had more to her story than I assumed. She surprisingly looked away and drank her wine as if she just swallowed a bulky pill. It made it all clear as to why she didn't  like Andrew's friends therefore leaving Andrew. It made sense when Andrew told her he couldn't remember what she looked like. He says:

"In all the months I've known you, I've never been able to remember what you look like. Isn't that bizarre? I used to think it was a good thing, the suspense I felt going to meet you in public--this completely irrationally fear I had that I might not recognize you. But it's something else isn't it?" (35)

Unlike the novel, Passing by Nella Larsen,  the protagonist's persona is not in full display as Irene's was, at least in my opinion. When Irene had  encountered Clare in Chicago, the conversation between the two helped me to discover Irene was indeed a light African American woman. However, the protagonist's, or "Rocky" as Greta calls her, race is explained  by what she sees because though it in first narrative, she neglects to mention anything about her being black or biracial. (Or I just plainly overlooked it.) Irene and "Rocky"  are similar because they do not blatantly profess they're racial identity yet when put in the situation where their race is belittled by others or made fun of they silently suffer in anger. They only reveal themselves when asked.

Greta was passing in different aspects of the word. Not only did she pass as white but she passed as a different person entirely by changing her identity. She reminds me of Clare, an unsatisfied, dysfunctional woman who was unable to cope with her biracial identity therefore behaving psychotically; hurting not only themselves but those who associated with them. They both were going through life finding acceptance from their multiracial world.

The Window

Clare Kendry is a character with a nearly agonizing desire to be accepted by both African Americans and Whites. Though, she is very frustrating to read about, flustering my attitude towards her, I cannot help but feel pity for the woman. The way in which Clare died represents her entire persona. She was a woman trapped by walls of judgement, need of acceptance, rejection, having a single window be her escape.

The window represented and her overview living; she was living in deep constraints, watching, living, breathing her way of life from a distance. The window was supposed to be her freedom, her way of connecting with Irene and Jack, connecting with passing and acceptance, connecting with black and white. However, she she lived a grey life, not fully living white, not fully living black, envious of Irene's ability accept herself as a "Negro;" deprived of life in its entirety. She was hazardous to herself and others around her because of that state of living.

"But it's true, 'Rene. Can't you realize that I'm not like you a bit? Why, to get the things I want badly enough, I'do anything, hurt anybody, throw anything away: Really, 'Rene, I'm not safe" (124, Kindle).

Standing by the window, Clare in way, had her both worlds connected to her but not to each other. She was at a dance surrounded by the African American race, her husband, though viscous, fully aware of her true identity. Had only her worlds connected with each, accepting each other the way she desired Clare wouldn't have passed on that night. She finally passed into world accepting of her state of being, dead.

The Jungle Beneath

In chapter 19 of Beloved, Stamp Paid contemplates how the system of slavery made the Whites believe the interior of Blacks laid a jungle; more like bestiality.

"White people believed that whatever the manners, under every dark skin was a jungle. Swift unnavigable waters, swinging screaming baboons, sleeping snakes, red gums ready for their sweet white blood." (234)

I brought up this quote because it has a similar message was brought up by Harriet Jacobs in chapter 10 of Incidents of a Slave Girl.

"Pity me, and pardon me, o virtuous reader! You never knew what it is to be slave; to be entirely unprotected by law or custom; to have the laws reduce you to the condition of a chattel, entirely subject to the will of another."

Both texts go into detail about the perception of Whites towards blacks during slavery. Blacks were seen as animals, they had no value, no self-definition. So of course, looking upon them outside of the slavery system they were seen to be jungle like. A kind of people that did and acted in unethical ways. Some examples would be when Linda Brent slept with Mr. Sands in order to infuriate and frustrate her master, Dr. Flint, or how Sethe slashed her own daughter's throat in order to free her from the life of slavery. These acts are morally mind boggling but these were humans that were deprived of humanity. Slaves did what they could to escape, to define themselves, to establish a family, and to be known they were to be treated equally. Of course they had a jungle beneath their "dark skin." They had no choice but to act that way since Whites pushed, forced, and encouraged that beast like behavior.

These texts reveals a state of insomnia, not physically but metaphorically speaking. Slaves were subjected to the will of others, there was no resting from that will. They lived day and night pondering their freedom, wondering when they would actually get a good nights sleep. Sethe was able to to create a life of domesticity for herself and her children yet the past tends to taunt and haunt her present. Linda was not so lucky' because of her re-enslavement she had yet to fulfill her dream of owning home for her and her children to delight in. These insomniac elements continues to leave a jungle beneath.

The Chokecherry Tree

" It's a tree Lu. A chokecherry tree." (93)

This description not only startled me but moved me in a such a way that I could not get past this image when I first read these words. Sethe's back was so torn, ripped, swollen, and red that it was unrecognizable. It was no longer a human back, but a tree. Just to think how many times this woman was whipped, and how much pain she suffered before she escaped is disturbing. I say disturbing because I can never and will never understand how humans can treat other humans as if they're a piece of meat; as if they were meaningless creatures devoured of their dignity. When Amy described Sethe's markings as a chokecherry tree, I immediately thought of this image to right. I have seen this image time and time again of this African-American man with his back towards the camera displaying his chokecherry tree back.

I was touched by Amy's efforts to comfort Sethe; making something so gruesome and painful into something delightful.

"See, here's the trunk-- it's red and split wide open, full of sap, and this here's the parting for the branches. You got a might lot of branches. Leaves, too, look like, and dern if these ain't blossoms. They little cherry blossoms, just as white. Your back got a whole tree on it. In bloom." (93)

This is a such a tender moment between the two because here's a white girl, massaging, and making light of this colored-woman's tribulations. Amy was thoughtful enough to come up with such a description. She didn't talk on and on about how terrible it was. She decided to make it better by associating the markings with something beautiful instead of something horrid.

Howl Part 1: Reckless Living

Upon reading this poem, I encountered this overwhelming feeling of recklessness. Reckless in time, space, living, breathing, eating...just reckless. The first few lines of the poem generates this downward spiral that is going to be displayed in strange form, which in my ind was proven to be right.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night...

These minds that the speaker introduces us to are the, who's, we see throughout the entire poem. These are people who, the speaker initially stated, have been destroyed and are now dragging themselves looking for that angry fix. Because this is the notion these minds are driven by, recklessness consumes them in their travels to seek temporary fix. This recklessness exudes the feeling of getting nowhere fast. At least that is the way I interpret it.

There is a lot of references to hopelessness and failure:

"who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,"

"who wandered around and around at midnight in the railway yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,"


"who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hungover with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,"

All of these just overwhelms me with the thoughts of those people who can't seem to get their life together. Even the structure of the poem shows the scrambling of this type of life. The lines go on and on with commas making the scrambling pause now and then. The speaker is displaying a certain lifestyle that is in a way muted. It is a lifestyle that not all experience but many wish they would never to experience.

It's a progression of unfortunate events that make these who's continue on with a reckless lifestyle. The imagery I get is a collage of drug addicts life. Perhaps Ginsberg wasn't describing solely a drug addict lifestyle but it certainly felt like it especially with all the drug references or objects that are used like drugs for example, benzedrine, turpentine, narcotic tobacco haze, cooked rotten animal lungs, and opium.

Perhaps he was describing his life during the first World War stated in the introduction by Williams Carlos Williams. Williams stated that he was " mentally much disturbed" by this event and this disturbed Williams as well. Therefore this poem could be describing those dark moments in his life before becoming a successful poet. If this poem is a connotation of this period then it makes a lot more sense because he's not describing people at random, it's people or events he has encountered.

Leaves of Grass

I want to compare the references of birth and it's purpose on page 23 and pg 56. (Kindle pages)

On page 23 Whitman proposes this question 'Has anyone supposed it lucky to be born?'
He then continues to describe or explain what I believe are his interpretations of the purpose of being born. The purpose of living. He writes:

'I am not an earth or an adjunct of earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just
as immortal and fathomless as myself;
They do not know how immortal, but I know.
Every kind for itself and its own.... for me
mine male and female.'

The message that is conveyed here is that he may a apart of the physical earth and its landscapes; nature itself. However his sole purpose of birth is to accompany mankind that according to him never perishes because there will always be male and female humans populating earth. After he writes this he then goes on describe the relationship mankind has with one another which is the reason of life. In this part of the poem it seems like birth is a good thing. What matters most is the interaction between people and how they function together.

On page 56, he speaks about eternity; how seasons have been exhausted and births have provided 'riches and variety.' Here I believe he is inform people the no one is greater than the other. Her writes:

'Were mankind murderous or jealous upon
you my brother or my sisters?
I am sorry for you....they are not murderous
or jealous upon me...'

Here is where I think the great joys and purposes of birth in reality only belongs to him. He goes on to say that he doesn't need to lament because all has been gentle with him. He says he feels sorry but when I read it feels as if he's being kind of sarcastic and boasting about how I guess interactions with him have been pleasant.

Therefore what I am trying to convey is that on page 23 this feeling of optimism of birth is tarnished on page 56 because the reality of what happens after birth is presented yet Whitman is in way intangible to all things negative. He seems to describe himself as being invincible.

'What have I do with lamentation?
I am an acme of things accomplished, and I an
encloser of things to be.'