Wales' Contribution

I have always been a staunch defender of Wikipedia's capacity to inform. Safeguards are built into the system by requiring editors (in this case, anyone with an internet connection and a will to edit) to have their username or their IP address logged. A "talk" page is then opened under this ID and anyone who has dissenting opinions on the subject matter edited or entered can bring discrepancies to light. Contributors who fail to meet honest standards are, for the most part, shouted out of the system, or ignored. The open lines of communication, and streamlined accessibility, are things that help to make Wikipedia's articles worthwhile and helpful.

I found it interesting to note that at the time of this article being written, Wikipedia had 5 people on staff. Visiting the website today I found a message from the founder, Jimmy Wales, at the top of the site. In his address to the Wikipedia user base, he mentioned that the company now has 73 staff, and a veritable host of volunteers. He says, "Wikipedia is something special. It is like a library or a public park. It is like a temple for the mind. It is a place we can all go to think, to learn, to share our knowledge with others." This is encouraging considering the overbearing add coverage we find in almost every other corner of the internet. Wales knew exactly what he was trying to achieve when he set out to create and grow Wikipedia. With "billions of page views" each month, Wales could easily have made a fortune with his online encyclopedia, but, thankfully, he had a higher objective in mind.

You can find his address here: http://tinyurl.com/7gxnno3

King of Cyrpus

                I had never heard of the term "Pygmalion" before sitting down to read this play, and was subsequently interested in learning what it meant. All that I could find after a brief search online was a reference to a king of Cyprus in Greek mythology who carved a statue so beautiful that the king desired her to be real. Aphrodite answered his prayers and turned her into a real woman, by the name of Galatea. Digging further, I managed to find a more generalized definition, which was someone who falls in love with his own creation. Based on the first two Acts and this definition, I can assume that Higgins, the odd professor, will develop a similar kind of association with Eliza at some point, despite their current attitudes towards one another, and Higgins' claim that women, to him, "might as well be blocks of wood."

                Another thing I liked is the way the play opens with an unconventional scene. Many aspects of the stratified society are represented all together, each taking refuge from the weather in a common place. Such a setup is a clever and efficient way to introduce a great many characters and allow the audience to view them all, each in their own worlds but also intersecting everyone else's.   

LOL!

This was a very interesting bit of writing by Orwell. He goes into some very specific points which I would likely have made, had I written an article of similar content. I have been referred to as a grammar Nazi more times than I can recall. This tendency of mine to correct other people's English is especially exercised online over Facebook and forums. Orwell, and others I am sure, clearly saw the deterioration of the English language taking place over time. Given the utterly simplistic and abbreviated form of communications we have today with the internet and text messaging, I imagine Orwell to be turning over in his grave.

Personally, I steadfastly refrain from using any such abbreviated forms of speech, online or otherwise. The point Orwell made about the "bad habits which spread by imitation" is absolutely spot on. It may be easier to type "brb" instead of "be right back," but by taking part in such practices, you're effectively taking part in the slow decay of the language of meaning. I related particularly well to the sentiment that "any struggle against the abuse of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes." I would agree that most people do feel that way, and that precisely what makes it so important to hold the line against the constant invasion of new abbreviations, and the swelling tide of stupidity that they must inevitably bring. 

Catherine (fill in the blank)

I found Lyn Pykett's analysis of Catherine unique perspective and subsequent fate very intriguing. She begins by telling us that Catherine's story is divergent from most written in the 18th century, especially by female authors. Given a common problem explored in other stories of the time, of which man to choose to marry, Catherine's story departs from the norm when marriage does not settle her problems, but rather complicates and agitates them even more. Catherine chose to marry for social standing and economic stability, despite the strong feelings of love she harbored for Heathcliff. This choice, rather than bringing a close to the book and her story, only opens her up for more (and greater) heartache later on.

It is interesting to consider how Brontë's story differs from other stories in which the heroines were forced to define their lives by the men that they marry. Pride and Prejudice, for instance, when Elizabeth finally decides to marry Mr. Darcy it is a move upward on the social ladder and one that presumably ends with the finding of real love. It's a happy ending. In Wuthering Heights, Catherine finds no such peace with her upward move.

Another thing I found interesting was the examination of young Catherine's transformation from wild earth child, happy to run the Moors with Heathcliff, to genteel lady concerned with societies conventions and with her ultimate image. To "modern" women of the time, this kind of shift would probably not have been frowned upon. The tragedy in Wuthering Heights may be best summed up in the unfortunate life of Catherine Earnshaw.    

Culturally Relative

                 I found the question of what cultural criticism is the most interesting part of this section of the book. I am guilty, when considering culture, to think of the capital C version. When someone uses the word culture, one tends to think of the highbrow pursuits of elitists, or those well endowed with wealth and free time. I immediately think of aged classical music and dusty old tomes being read aloud in vast family libraries where servants pour drinks and do their best to blend in with the gilded furniture. It is nice to think of cultural critics more as being activists rather than upholders of the status quo.

                Another thing I found amusing was that the writer acknowledged universities as being the true enemies of this kind of cultural progression. He says "that is where the old definitions of culture as high culture (and as something formed, finished, and canonized) have been most vigorously preserved, defended, and reinforced." (414). The writer goes on to explain how the departmental structures within  universities create artificial boundaries between the arts and those accepted areas of study, such as history, sociology, and the sciences. Sitting in a university myself, I can see how this departmental layering could get in the way of encouraging open and interpretive thought.

                I do, however, think there is a danger in trying to abolish all the lines we draw between areas of study, and even areas of value. Great things inevitably get lost along the way as the arc of time takes us further and further away from our roots. I think it often proves valuable and rewarding to willfully immerse yourself in the time and place in which some product of creativity emerged, without always contrasting things with your own experience and perspective.    

Wuthering

          First of all, as a kind of experiment of narration, the construction of the novel is interesting. However, I feel no love for the kind of narrative weaving that is taking place in the work. The story seems told in a deliberately confusing and disjointed way, and while this may have been a novel (no pun intended) idea in that era, it fails to be anything but annoying to me as a reader. Perhaps it just isn't my cup of tea. I prefer sweeping epics and focused narration. Wuthering Heights reads to me like the frenzied babblings of a schizophrenic. The lack of clear demarcation between passages intended to be read as happening in the present and those that happened in the past through various journal entries is as confusing as it is distancing.  

         
          Last semester I read The House of the Seven Gables, a piece of Gothic writing by Hawthorne, and while I very much enjoyed his prose, all through the novel I kept waiting for something interesting to happen. Nothing did. We simply follow a few characters' meandering thought processes, most of them of a markedly depressing nature, until we arrive at the end, which is a sort of subdued happily ever after moment. I felt strung along, because some of the possible plot lines I mistakenly saw developing into something more fantastic than was intended. I am relating this story because the writing and the subjects of the writing seem to me very much in common. Halfway through and I'm expecting something to happen, but page after page brings me only boredom.

          I think in large part there is a generational gap, but there is also a gaping rift of taste and preference present which prevents me from connecting with the book and its characters. I hope to be able to get into it at some point, but I think my complaints may be too many to overcome.   

Bibliophilia

I haven't always loved books. I haven't always kept my collection of individual books as I keep them now. Each one bears a memory and a purpose. My collection grows with each purchase. Each addition to my mental and physical bookshelf is a kind of stock to be traded and valued differently. I own books about the nature of consciousness, the human animal, morality, tragedy. I have books that expound upon huge fictitious worlds, some of which include every manner of supernatural being you might be pressed to think of. I also have books on argumentation, philosophy, pop culture and literary analysis. Books of poetry (John Keats being my favorite) and works by the playwright Christopher Marlowe hold a special place on my shelves. The thought of having to abandon all these is an unpleasant one.

Manguel offers similar thoughts on page 237 of the book, where he speaks about his hesitance to part with his personal library. We give ourselves various reasons, but ultimately for me it is about possession. I simply want to keep these books. They are pieces of my identity, as visible in my dealings with people as they are on my shelves. They offer physical reminders of where I have been, and where I am going. My ever growing library is something of a legacy which will pass from me and hopefully continue, long after I am gone.