For Susan Cooper’s King of Shadows, I chose to read it from an intertextual standpoint. Given the content of the novel, it seemed the most logical. This text might easily relate to other texts. For genre, it can fall under fantasy and historical fiction. It certainly relates to historical events and figures of Elizabethan England. And as far as literature, there is a heavy emphasis on the works of William Shakespeare. The most notable Shakespearian reference is to A Midsummer Nights’ Dream, as it is almost a character itself. Some other referenced works include The Tempest, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, Othello, and Sonnet 116.
Comparing King of Shadows to A Midsummer Nights’ Dream is an easy task as Cooper does all the work herself. Nat Field’s relationship with Shakespeare is paralleled with that of Puck and Oberon’s. In his Elizabethan performance, Nat was able to connect to his part so well because as Puck worshipped Oberon, Nat adored Shakespeare. He became the father figure that Nat so desperately needed. Without Shakespeare or A Midsummer Nights’ Dream, it might not be as apparent the intense grief that Nat still holds over his parents’ deaths and his need for a caring fatherly figure in his life.
LENS 2: A Critical Approach to Monster
Monster by Walter Dean Myers raises several issues about how resources, power, and agency are apportioned in society. In the world of black teenager Steve Harmon, the main character, the only viable source of resources, power, and agency are through violence, most notably related to drugs and/or gangs. On pages 149-150, Steve is seen talking with James King who is planning to rob the drugstore to make money. Even though he should legally be considered innocent until proven guilty, to the jury he is just another young black man caught up in crime like every other black criminal crowding the prisons.
Steve is in many ways constrained to the social role of the poor, criminal minority. Most people in his neighborhood are either honest people who cannot afford to give their children a better life, like his parents, and those who have either embraced crime or reluctantly turned to it because they had no other choice. Prior to his incarceration, Steve actually looked up to the glamorized criminal.
Steve is eventually deemed “not guilty” by the jury, but it was certainly an up-hill battle due to his socio-economic and racial situation. The prosecution did everything possible to show that he was no different than known criminals and, as his own lawyer pointed out to him, the fact that he was young, black, and on trial did nothing to sway the jury in his favor. These issues all raise many questions about how resources, power, and agency are apportioned in society.
LENS 3: The Hunger Games (Intertextual)
In Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games, I was most intrigued by the subtle connection with this future civilization and Imperial Rome. What first tipped me off was the incredible wealth of not only Latin-sounding names, such as Flavius and Venia, but also indisputably Latin names such as Caesar, Octavia, Cinna, Portia, Claudius, and Cato. The more I considered this curious pattern, the more aware I became of the parallels between Panem and Imperial Rome. For one thing, in both the Hunger Games and the gladiatorial games, there was more to the game than just the event itself. In Imperial Rome, there were the characters involved, the personal drama as well as technical skill and determination. In the Hunger Games, the audiences’ interest in the tributes and their personal dramas is made abundantly clear during the initial interviews, particularly Peeta’s declaration of love for Katniss (123-133).
In the time of the Etruscans, from whom it is believed Rome adopted its gladiatorial tradition, it was a custom to sacrifice prisoners of war at the burial of a warrior. As a means of making the sacrifice seem less cruel, at least the victors were granted a chance to survive. These sacrifices were gradually transformed into fights between the prisoners. The same idea is apparent in the Hunger Games. While the tributes aren’t exactly prisoners of war, they are chosen at random to fight because of a rebellion 74 years prior and only the victor is guaranteed survival. This event, like that of Imperial Rome, is also a means of political propaganda. During the Republic, rich men would sponsor games to win popularity with the people. In Imperial Rome, the emperor would host them as a gift to his people. The message sent by the Capitol in The Hunger Games is quite different: we own you and we can and will kill you if we so desire. One problem Rome ran into was that as the rich increasingly intensified their efforts to dazzle the audience, the plebeians became easily bored. Spoiled by ever more fanciful spectacles, the mob soon demanded more. This is mirrored in the Hunger Games’s never-ending attempt to astonish the audience, such as pelting Katniss with fireballs if things start to get dull (171-177) or announcing that Katniss and Peeta can both survive if they work as a team, only to retract the promise when the manage to do just that (244, 342). Even the tributes learn to perform even as they fight to survive in the hopes that someone will buy them an advantage.
Another area of similarity is that gladiators were dressed up to resemble barbarians and participated in the pompa, the procession into the arena. These two details were combined in the opening ceremonies of the Hunger Games. As Cinna points out, “it is customary to reflect the flavor of the district” and dresses Katniss accordingly (66). Gladiators also attended a gladiatorial school doctore, or teacher, would prepare the gladiator to fight. They usually were former gladiators whose skill had been good enough to survive, just like Katniss and Peeta’s mentor, Haymitch. The checking of weapons was also customary during gladiatorial games and was done in order to reassure the public, many of whom had placed bets on the outcome of a fight, that all was in order and no weapons had been tampered with. In chapter 10 of The Hunger Games, Cinna mentions to Katniss that the review board had “eliminated a ring from that District One girl” because “[i]f you twisted the gemstone, a spike popped out,” a “[p]oisoned one” (145-146). I’m sure there are many more instances in The Hunger Games of parallels between Imperial Rome and the Capitol. I have no idea whether or not Suzanne Collins intended all of them, but they are so plentiful and prevalent, one would be hard pressed to simply dismiss it as coincidence.
Persepolis
I have had some difficulty deciding how to analyze this graphic novel. None of the categories provided, such as inter-textual or reader response, seem to fit what I think about Marjane Satrapi’s transition from childhood to young adulthood. Consequently, I have decided to ignore the suggested categories and simply write what I think.
What struck me the most about Satrapi’s story was how as a little girl she had an intimate relationship with God. He came to visit with her, they chatted, and above all else, she wanted to be a prophet. I think she wanted to be a prophet because in the context of Islam, there was no one more important than the prophet Muhammad. In her childish innocence, she was unaware of religious norms and the fact that as a female she was forbidden by Islam any sort of spiritual authority. She didn’t need religion because she already had the full attention of God.
As she grew older and became more aware of her parents’ Marxist and revolutionary ideology, she became less sure about God. Instead of a prophet, she wanted to be a revolutionary. In one of their last conversations, God asked Marji when she stopped wanting to be a prophet. Uncomfortable with the question, she asks if they can change the subject. He then asks her about Marx, which she is also unwilling to discuss. It is at this point that God comments that there will be beautiful whether the following day. Because of her unwillingness to openly talk with Him, she distances herself from God. When she told God that she was going to protest on the streets, He silently left the room as she admired how much she looked “like Che Guevara” (15).
Her belief in God continued to crumble as her father explained to her that “God did not choose the king” as she had been taught in school (19). In their final encounter, after her Uncle Anoosh was arrested and executed by religious fanatics, Marji told God: “Shut up, you! Get out of my life!!! I never want to see you again!” (70) And so he left, never to return. From there, her misgivings about God were only further confirmed by the hypocrisy of religion and the unfortunate assumption that God and religion are synonymous.
The Orange Houses
At first I was tempted to examine this The Orange Houses by Paul Griffin intertextually. After all, there is plenty to be said for its reflection of current events, such as illegal immigration, mental disorders amongst veterans, treatment of those with “disabilities,” and gang violence. I finally decided, however, to go with “reader-as-writer” because I realized that this book has a lot to teach me about writing a successful young adult novel.
First of all, the story is interesting. Even as an adult, I was captivated by the book. The characters were genuine and spoke the way people from their given background would speak. Their situations were neither reduced to simplicity nor magnified to the ridiculous. Their lives were complicated in a very real way. Griffin did an amazing job of taking a number of serious and sometimes dark issues, treating them seriously, and then finding some light in all of it. He also wrote it in a way that the story was propelled forward and never lagged. That is not to say that it was constant action. That probably would have been too much. But the “down times” still served to move the plot along so that the climax was inevitable.
I was a little surprised at the nature of Jimmi’s “hanging.” I was expecting a lynching. I have to admit, though, that I am glad that it turned out the way it did, not only because he lives and still has the opportunity to recover from the darkness that devours him but also because it surprised me. I thought I knew what was going to happen and I was wrong. I love being surprised in a book, provided that the unforeseen twist of events works well in the story. Realistically, it would have been too much for Mik to lose both Jimmi and Fatima and that might have sent her over the edge. Maybe she would have isolated herself further. Maybe she would have run away from home. Whatever may have happened, it would have completely changed the story and would not have ended on the positive note that Griffin intended.
I also enjoyed the fact that the book does not have a definitive ending. It concludes with a casual conversation Mik and her mom have about Jimmi with the implication that they will continue to try to help him. While enough has been concluded so that the book can end without feeling incomplete, it does not leave one with the unrealistic “and they lived happily ever after” feeling. It implies that while this chapter of their lives are over, they will continue to live.
All of the elements of the The Orange Houses that I have discussed in this assignment are aspects of what I would want to accomplish in my own work.
For Susan Cooper’s King of Shadows, I chose to read it from an intertextual standpoint. Given the content of the novel, it seemed the most logical. This text might easily relate to other texts. For genre, it can fall under fantasy and historical fiction. It certainly relates to historical events and figures of Elizabethan England. And as far as literature, there is a heavy emphasis on the works of William Shakespeare. The most notable Shakespearian reference is to A Midsummer Nights’ Dream, as it is almost a character itself. Some other referenced works include The Tempest, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, Othello, and Sonnet 116.
Comparing King of Shadows to A Midsummer Nights’ Dream is an easy task as Cooper does all the work herself. Nat Field’s relationship with Shakespeare is paralleled with that of Puck and Oberon’s. In his Elizabethan performance, Nat was able to connect to his part so well because as Puck worshipped Oberon, Nat adored Shakespeare. He became the father figure that Nat so desperately needed. Without Shakespeare or A Midsummer Nights’ Dream, it might not be as apparent the intense grief that Nat still holds over his parents’ deaths and his need for a caring fatherly figure in his life.
LENS 2: A Critical Approach to Monster
Monster by Walter Dean Myers raises several issues about how resources, power, and agency are apportioned in society. In the world of black teenager Steve Harmon, the main character, the only viable source of resources, power, and agency are through violence, most notably related to drugs and/or gangs. On pages 149-150, Steve is seen talking with James King who is planning to rob the drugstore to make money. Even though he should legally be considered innocent until proven guilty, to the jury he is just another young black man caught up in crime like every other black criminal crowding the prisons.
Steve is in many ways constrained to the social role of the poor, criminal minority. Most people in his neighborhood are either honest people who cannot afford to give their children a better life, like his parents, and those who have either embraced crime or reluctantly turned to it because they had no other choice. Prior to his incarceration, Steve actually looked up to the glamorized criminal.
Steve is eventually deemed “not guilty” by the jury, but it was certainly an up-hill battle due to his socio-economic and racial situation. The prosecution did everything possible to show that he was no different than known criminals and, as his own lawyer pointed out to him, the fact that he was young, black, and on trial did nothing to sway the jury in his favor. These issues all raise many questions about how resources, power, and agency are apportioned in society.
LENS 3: The Hunger Games (Intertextual)
In Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games, I was most intrigued by the subtle connection with this future civilization and Imperial Rome. What first tipped me off was the incredible wealth of not only Latin-sounding names, such as Flavius and Venia, but also indisputably Latin names such as Caesar, Octavia, Cinna, Portia, Claudius, and Cato. The more I considered this curious pattern, the more aware I became of the parallels between Panem and Imperial Rome.
For one thing, in both the Hunger Games and the gladiatorial games, there was more to the game than just the event itself. In Imperial Rome, there were the characters involved, the personal drama as well as technical skill and determination. In the Hunger Games, the audiences’ interest in the tributes and their personal dramas is made abundantly clear during the initial interviews, particularly Peeta’s declaration of love for Katniss (123-133).
In the time of the Etruscans, from whom it is believed Rome adopted its gladiatorial tradition, it was a custom to sacrifice prisoners of war at the burial of a warrior. As a means of making the sacrifice seem less cruel, at least the victors were granted a chance to survive. These sacrifices were gradually transformed into fights between the prisoners. The same idea is apparent in the Hunger Games. While the tributes aren’t exactly prisoners of war, they are chosen at random to fight because of a rebellion 74 years prior and only the victor is guaranteed survival. This event, like that of Imperial Rome, is also a means of political propaganda. During the Republic, rich men would sponsor games to win popularity with the people. In Imperial Rome, the emperor would host them as a gift to his people. The message sent by the Capitol in The Hunger Games is quite different: we own you and we can and will kill you if we so desire.
One problem Rome ran into was that as the rich increasingly intensified their efforts to dazzle the audience, the plebeians became easily bored. Spoiled by ever more fanciful spectacles, the mob soon demanded more. This is mirrored in the Hunger Games’s never-ending attempt to astonish the audience, such as pelting Katniss with fireballs if things start to get dull (171-177) or announcing that Katniss and Peeta can both survive if they work as a team, only to retract the promise when the manage to do just that (244, 342). Even the tributes learn to perform even as they fight to survive in the hopes that someone will buy them an advantage.
Another area of similarity is that gladiators were dressed up to resemble barbarians and participated in the pompa, the procession into the arena. These two details were combined in the opening ceremonies of the Hunger Games. As Cinna points out, “it is customary to reflect the flavor of the district” and dresses Katniss accordingly (66). Gladiators also attended a gladiatorial school doctore, or teacher, would prepare the gladiator to fight. They usually were former gladiators whose skill had been good enough to survive, just like Katniss and Peeta’s mentor, Haymitch.
The checking of weapons was also customary during gladiatorial games and was done in order to reassure the public, many of whom had placed bets on the outcome of a fight, that all was in order and no weapons had been tampered with. In chapter 10 of The Hunger Games, Cinna mentions to Katniss that the review board had “eliminated a ring from that District One girl” because “[i]f you twisted the gemstone, a spike popped out,” a “[p]oisoned one” (145-146).
I’m sure there are many more instances in The Hunger Games of parallels between Imperial Rome and the Capitol. I have no idea whether or not Suzanne Collins intended all of them, but they are so plentiful and prevalent, one would be hard pressed to simply dismiss it as coincidence.
Persepolis
I have had some difficulty deciding how to analyze this graphic novel. None of the categories provided, such as inter-textual or reader response, seem to fit what I think about Marjane Satrapi’s transition from childhood to young adulthood. Consequently, I have decided to ignore the suggested categories and simply write what I think.
What struck me the most about Satrapi’s story was how as a little girl she had an intimate relationship with God. He came to visit with her, they chatted, and above all else, she wanted to be a prophet. I think she wanted to be a prophet because in the context of Islam, there was no one more important than the prophet Muhammad. In her childish innocence, she was unaware of religious norms and the fact that as a female she was forbidden by Islam any sort of spiritual authority. She didn’t need religion because she already had the full attention of God.
As she grew older and became more aware of her parents’ Marxist and revolutionary ideology, she became less sure about God. Instead of a prophet, she wanted to be a revolutionary. In one of their last conversations, God asked Marji when she stopped wanting to be a prophet. Uncomfortable with the question, she asks if they can change the subject. He then asks her about Marx, which she is also unwilling to discuss. It is at this point that God comments that there will be beautiful whether the following day. Because of her unwillingness to openly talk with Him, she distances herself from God. When she told God that she was going to protest on the streets, He silently left the room as she admired how much she looked “like Che Guevara” (15).
Her belief in God continued to crumble as her father explained to her that “God did not choose the king” as she had been taught in school (19). In their final encounter, after her Uncle Anoosh was arrested and executed by religious fanatics, Marji told God: “Shut up, you! Get out of my life!!! I never want to see you again!” (70) And so he left, never to return. From there, her misgivings about God were only further confirmed by the hypocrisy of religion and the unfortunate assumption that God and religion are synonymous.
The Orange Houses
At first I was tempted to examine this The Orange Houses by Paul Griffin intertextually. After all, there is plenty to be said for its reflection of current events, such as illegal immigration, mental disorders amongst veterans, treatment of those with “disabilities,” and gang violence. I finally decided, however, to go with “reader-as-writer” because I realized that this book has a lot to teach me about writing a successful young adult novel.
First of all, the story is interesting. Even as an adult, I was captivated by the book. The characters were genuine and spoke the way people from their given background would speak. Their situations were neither reduced to simplicity nor magnified to the ridiculous. Their lives were complicated in a very real way. Griffin did an amazing job of taking a number of serious and sometimes dark issues, treating them seriously, and then finding some light in all of it. He also wrote it in a way that the story was propelled forward and never lagged. That is not to say that it was constant action. That probably would have been too much. But the “down times” still served to move the plot along so that the climax was inevitable.
I was a little surprised at the nature of Jimmi’s “hanging.” I was expecting a lynching. I have to admit, though, that I am glad that it turned out the way it did, not only because he lives and still has the opportunity to recover from the darkness that devours him but also because it surprised me. I thought I knew what was going to happen and I was wrong. I love being surprised in a book, provided that the unforeseen twist of events works well in the story. Realistically, it would have been too much for Mik to lose both Jimmi and Fatima and that might have sent her over the edge. Maybe she would have isolated herself further. Maybe she would have run away from home. Whatever may have happened, it would have completely changed the story and would not have ended on the positive note that Griffin intended.
I also enjoyed the fact that the book does not have a definitive ending. It concludes with a casual conversation Mik and her mom have about Jimmi with the implication that they will continue to try to help him. While enough has been concluded so that the book can end without feeling incomplete, it does not leave one with the unrealistic “and they lived happily ever after” feeling. It implies that while this chapter of their lives are over, they will continue to live.
All of the elements of the The Orange Houses that I have discussed in this assignment are aspects of what I would want to accomplish in my own work.