Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Vampire Academy

I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been biased against the vampire genre ever since seeing Twilight. I tried to keep an open mind when starting Vampire Academy and while I still found the characters predictable and the drama a little tiresome, the book’s vampire lore actually had me hooked. I found the complex social structure of the vampire world interesting. Not only was there conflict between living vampires and dead vampires, there was conflict between full vampires and half vampires and royals and lower class families. I can see why a high school was a successful setting to fully expose the society’s social inequalities and the personal insecurities linked. For instance, I thought the blood whore concept was very interesting. Throughout the novel- as well as the entire genre- it’s generally agreed that having your blood sucked by a vampire is practically orgasmic. But there is a stigma around morois drinking from a dhampir during sex. In the book it’s suggested that often moroi men search for female dhampir blood, which would probably just enhance the sexual experience, but for some reason it’s taboo. In my opinion, this speaks to “slut-shaming” in our own society. If a woman chooses to embrace her sexuality, she becomes a slut. Meanwhile it’s generally accepted that men can have as much free sex as they want with no labels or blame. While this might not have been Richelle Mead’s intention, I understood the blood whore concept to sort of exploit that.

This also brings me to the relationship between Rose and Lissa which is one I enjoyed seeing in a young adult novel. Their friendship throughout the entire book takes precedence over romantic interests and endured the obstacles thrown their way. Rose dedicated her life to protect her friend, and Lissa loved Rose so much she chipped away at her own spirit in order to bring Rose back from the dead. The concept of wielding the spirit element was another intriguing point for me. To heal others meant to damage herself, and I think that would feel relatable to many people, especially young adults. I think the way Mead handled self-harm was important. Rose wanted to comply with Lissa’s wish of secrecy, but there comes a time when that’s no longer acceptable. The loved ones of someone who self-harms needs to step in and help them regain self-control.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things

Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things lives up to the title. These legends and tales are often so strange that they feel as if they’ve been cut short. Very rarely is there any explanation for what exactly took place, the reader must interpret their own understanding. A few of these stories, such as Of a Mirror and a Bell and Diplomacy end abruptly, which is a technique not very common among western storytelling. In western narrative the reader is typically spoonfed a conclusion. These short stories begin and end with the sole purpose of the tale: a focus on strange encounters.

One common element among most of the stories lies in religious connection. In many of these stories a priest plays a significant role, usually as a guide to resolve. The religious figure usually provides answers or is immune to evil. In one story, Rokuro-Kubi, a goblin even says: “and we cannot touch him so long as he is praying”. To me, it appears there is a common moral that values the importance of religious spirituality over selfish desire. In Jikininki, there is the quote: “I repeated the service and performed the rites only as a matter of business;━ I thought only of the food and the clothes that my sacred profession enabled me to gain. And because of this selfish impiety I was reborn… into the state of a jikininki.” This seems to be a clear message to listeners or readers that in order to avoid consequence one must act selflessly, and act to benefit others without personal gain. This is interesting when compared to our previous topics of the gothic and vampires. Both, in a way, seduce readers with the opposite technique. Gothic horror wraps the reader into the realm of darkness and embraces the unnatural. Vampire fiction- especially modern variation- literally seduces the reader into sympathizing with the monster, exploiting personal gain (such as draining the blood of others for nourishment) as something better than sex, a state of ecstasy. This speaks to a western audience, who seem to crave an explanation of the inexplicable. Western literature tends to expose the unnatural and twist it into something romantic, while these Japanese stories seem to expose the unnatural for the purpose of spiritual guidance.

Saturday, August 26, 2017

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein



Mary Shelley’s 1831 Frankenstein is all about the unnatural seduction of the grotesque and the meaning of natural life, which are distinctive qualities of gothic literature. In classic gothic fashion, Victor Frankenstein is pulled into a dark “fate” as his obsession with abandoned sciences grows. The reader is also pulled into the moral complexity of Shelley’s universe because the monster’s character actually starts off as a more compelling and sympathizable character than Victor. Where in Victor’s childhood he was given everything to live a happy life, Frankenstein’s monster was given absolutely nothing. Typically, people root for the underdog who has to earn their place in the world, and that’s how I initially felt about the monster. This also ties into Shelley’s exploration of nature v. nurture. With Victor’s father-like role towards the monster, Victor’s lack of responsibility shows clear consequences. Throughout the narration, Victor blames fate and destiny for his own self-destruction, but eventually blames himself for the monster he’s created. It can be argued that Shelley is implying experiencing life has a greater influence on personality than genetics. This makes Victor’s character even more unlikeable because he becomes the cause and victim of his own horrific creation. As he explores the moral complexity of achieving godliness, the reader explores the moral complexity of trying to sympathize with an irresponsible scientist and his neglected experiment.

       Another theme I found interesting, though, was beauty and society’s view of it. At first Shelley appears to equate beauty with goodness, such as in the case of Elizabeth whom is a character we are constantly reminded is angelic and attractive. This is also true for other characters and when we initially meet Frankenstein’s creation, he’s marked hideous and considered a monster. The theme becomes less black and white when we realize the monster had good intentions at the start of his life. Only through being told by others that he is hideous does he truly become a monster. This makes me consider that Shelley may be implying outer beauty does influence inner beauty due to society’s superficiality. This could be considered a gothic theme if we were then to say Shelley considers all of society to be part of this realm of darkness.