The End

     American Literature I has given me a greater understanding of and appreciation for American Literature.  I can't say that I was all that excited to take it in the beginning, (since I already had taken American Literature II) but it ended up being an enjoyable experience!  The biggest thing I have appreciated throughout this semester has been seeing how we got to where we are, reading the authors and thinkers that influenced how we write and think today.  Literature has a bigger impact on our culture than I ever imagined.  It also reveals underlying ideals and assumptions that I hadn't recognized prior to discussing them in class.  Understanding where we came from is crucial in our journey moving forward--we can learn from our mistakes and figure out how to repeat what we did right.  And along the way we can write about it ourselves, allowing our successors to have the same experience we have been gifted with.

Emily Dickinson, 620: Much Madness is divinest Sense

     I have been called crazy a few times (mostly by my parents or friends that knew the person I was when I was younger) for my developing thoughts and opinions.  I think at times they have thought my opinions to be "straightaway dangerous" and wanted to "handle me with a Chain."  But as Dickinson points out, "Much Madness is divinest Sense - / To a discerning Eye -" As we grow up, that's what we learn to do, to develop a discerning eye.  We learn to not instantly assent or deny new ways of thinking, but to wrestle with them in a state of indecisiveness for a while.  We learn to become okay with not having all the answers.  This is what Dickinson, Whitman, and many other poets and authors encourage--be comfortable with being uncomfortable.  This is certainly something I have learned in my time at college.  But I have also learned not to stop trying to understand things better, even if it is easier to give up and never form an opinion.

Emily Dickinson, 1263: Tell all the truth but tell it slant

     This is another one of Dickinson's poems that I really like, and this one is a little easier to read than some of her other poems (maybe that's part of the reason I like it so much?)  The speaker in "Tell all the truth but tell it slant" seems to understand that as we grow, we will learn new knowledge that can be painful at times.  And as we learn this new knowledge, it is our job to help others come into truth.  However, "The Truth must dazzle gradually / Or every man be blind -"  I've had people try to throw new truths at me that I just wasn't ready for yet, and it caused emotional turmoil.  It also caused me to deny what they said was true.  As I read this poem, I thought about it in light of spiritual growth.  I can look back at what I used to believe or where I used to be in my walk of faith and think condescendingly of myself.  But I can also look back and see that God met me where I was at and helped me to understand the truth gradually, instead of throwing things at me I wasn't ready for yet.

Emily Dickinson, 591: I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

     Emily Dickinson's poems always confuse me the first time I read them, which frustrates me, but once I dig into them I appreciate them so much!  I really liked her poem that begins with "I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -"  Before I came to college, I definitely had a different view of death than I have now.  When people died, I always used the classic lines, like they're "somewhere better" or "finally at peace" or assured people (myself included) that their dead loved one wouldn't want them to be sad.  But after taking theology classes, I have come to understand that death is not a good thing, and should be grieved.  It disrupts life unapologetically.  Dickinson portrays it this way in her poem; death is not the next step to happiness or "stepping into the light," it's simply the end of life--life that is good.  Dickinson's poem is very anticlimactic and matter of fact.  She refuses to allude to the classic scene of "stepping into the light" that many use when describing death.  In this poem, Dickinson challenges the reader to recognize that life as it was meant to be is found in life--not death.  As Christians, this is something we can put our hope in; that although death is inevitable, Christ offers us life in resurrection--real, physical life.  Dying is not the end!  Thanks, Emily.

Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself"

     Although Whitman is understood to be the father of American poetry I can't say that he was my absolute favorite to read!  As I was reading I often thought to myself, why is this so sexual?!  Why is he relating anything he can to sex?!  However, I can say that I appreciate how he refused to make a divide between body/spirit, refusing to saying some experiences as a human are more valuable than others.  But before I throw him out all together, there were some things that I appreciated about his poetry.  I liked part 2, where he is basically calling people out for thinking they have everything figured out.

Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)...
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self. (lines 32-34, 36-37)

Here he is questioning people who think they have all the answers, and suggesting that they go out and experience nature--how vast and wide and unknowable it is: "there are millions of suns left."  He says not to just listen to what others say, but experience life and come to have opinions for yourself.

However, he also recognizes that this will be a difficult process, one that he is still on.  I liked the last stanza of "Song of Myself":

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you. (lines 1343-1345)

Maybe I did enjoy reading Whitman after all.

Harriet Beecher Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin"

     One thing I found interesting about this novel was how Stowe often presented the women in the novel as the moral voice.  While the men were the powerful and autonomous ones out doing business, the women were at home with the slaves, and began to see the humanity in them.  For example, when Mr. Shelby decides to sell Tom and Harry, Mrs. Shelby reminds her husband of his promise to set Tom free and her own promise to Eliza that Harry would stay.  She then goes on to say that slavery is a sin--here Stowe is certainly not leaving her convictions in question for the reader.  She clearly has an agenda, and isn't concerned with talking around the matter, rather choosing to get right down to it.  Stowe takes on this blunt tone throughout the novel, which is effective in getting her point across for me, someone that agrees with her, but as I was reading, at times I wondered if her writing was as effective for those who didn't share her convictions.

Margaret Fuller "The Great Lawsuit"

     In the section about "The Great Radical Dualism," I appreciated Fuller's argument against such strict gender roles--ones that are said to come naturally.  She says, "Male and female present the two sides of the great radical dualism.  But, in fact, they are perpetually passing into one another.  Fluid hardens to solid, solid rushes to fluid.  There is no wholly masculine man, no purely feminine woman."  She argues that nature actually "provides exceptions to every rule," and goes on to talk about women taking on traditionally masculine roles and men taking on traditionally feminine roles.  She calls into question where we get our ideas of "masculine" and "feminine," because both genders participate in activities that are stereotyped to the opposite gender.  In regards to the work of men and women, she suggests to "let it be."  "Let it take what form it will, and let us not bind it by the past to man or woman, black or white."  Fuller desires inclusiveness in work, not separating out jobs based on sexes, but allowing people to participate in whatever work they do best.  There is no masculine job or feminine job, just jobs.  We should focus on what we're good at instead of discriminating based on sex or race.  As I read, I related Fuller's argument to church politics.  Although I would not argue as Fuller does, as her argument is based on Mother Nature distributing jobs, I would instead argue that the Holy Spirit distributes jobs and gifts without discriminating against sex and gender.  In this way, there are no definite "masculine" or "feminine" jobs, as the Spirit gives freely on its own accord.

William Lloyd Garrison's "To the Public"

     When we are far removed from things it's easy to be apathetic about them.  We are susceptible to this in America; while people in other countries starve and shiver in refugee camps, we go to sleep sleep in our warm beds with full stomachs, without a care in the world, taking for granted our blessings and not caring to step in and help those who are not as fortunate, if only because it doesn't affect us directly.  It seems that the northern states shared a similar attitude towards slavery in the south in 1831.  This is what Garrison was so worked up about in "To the Public," that because slavery didn't affect people in the north directly, they did not see slavery as the big problem it actually was.  They didn't want to take immediate action, assuming slavery would run its course, that over time moderate steps would be taken to gradually end slavery.  But Garrison will have none of it.

"I will be as harsh as truth, as uncompromising as justice.  On this subject, I do not wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation.  No! no!  Tell a man whose house is on fire, to give a moderate alarm; tell him moderately to rescue his wife from the hands of the ravisher; tell the mother to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen; --but urge me not to use moderation in a cause like the present."

Real people, real lives are effected by slavery, Garrison says; imagine yourself as one of them.  I know I fall into the apathetic category more often than not, but real lives are at stake here.  We need people like Garrison to remind us of this and to call us into action.

Edgar Allan Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart"

     I've read "The Tell-Tale Heart" several times before, and what is always discussed is the obvious case of an unreliable narrator.  I am always amused by the way the narrator tries to convince us, and himself, that he is not crazy.  "And now--have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of the senses?" the narrator says to explains his hatred of the old man's "vulture eye."  Earlier when describing his carefulness and planning killing the old man he says, "You fancy me mad.  Madmen know nothing."  As if premeditated murder is not something a madman/serial killer would come up with.
     But another theme I noticed after reading it this time, probably because we just covered this theme in The Scarlet Letter, is the power of confession.  "The Tell-Tale Heart" is itself a confession to the reader of the sin committed against the old man.  And although the narrator does try to explain away his madness, it seems that the narrator is aware of his madness and explaining it this way is a hidden confession of its own.  Perhaps confession is what's keeping him from losing it altogether.  The guilt after killing the old man is so much that he believes he can hear the old man's heart beating while the police are chatting with him.  He can't keep the crime to himself any longer and blurts out his confession to the policemen.  Sinning and keeping the sin to himself is driving him crazy--he hears things and he imagines himself to be pacing back and forth, "I foamed--I raved--I swore," while the police sit pleasantly chatting, not seeming to notice.  I assume this was not actually happening but a figment of his imagination--an effect of keeping sin in the dark.  "I felt like I must scream or die!" the narrator says.  But confession will do just fine.  Once the narrator confesses, the story ends--a story written by a man confessing and attempting to keep his sanity through it.

Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven"

     When I'm having a bad day, I try to find pity wherever I can get it.  On those days, I'm in a slump that I don't want out of; I just want to wallow in my sorrow and I want others to make me feel like I have a right to do that.  Well, this is precisely what the speaker in "The Raven" is doing.  This bird shows up, trained to say one word and one word only, "Nevermore," and the speaker, in his pity slump, decides that this is just the way to get the pity he is looking for.  He begins to frame his questions and conversation with the bird around the answer of "Nevermore."  He wishes to forget his lost Lenore, the raven replies, "Nevermore."  He tells the bird to leave him alone, the raven replies, "Nevermore."  The speaker knows exactly what he's doing when he speaks to the bird, and he knows exactly the answer he will get every time.  He frames the conversation around his sadness.  I believe this is the 19th century version of listening to sad music when you've just gone through a breakup.  Yet the bird does not leave the speaker, as many have been prone to do. This at least can be comfort, I suppose.

The Scarlet Letter: The Confession

     Dimmesdale's confession is a dramatic one: it's as if after all this time, bringing his sin to light is such a feat that he can no longer live.  Even though it's a classic tragic romance scene, it still hurts my heart a little to read.  At last, the family is brought together and sin has been addressed, but it still doesn't turn out for the best.  This is what Hester and Pearl have wanted, for their family to be together, but they never get to enjoy it--still they suffer.  When Hester asks Dimmesdale if they will spend the afterlife together, it's so romantically tragic, because we know that she still cares for him and wants a chance at reconciliation.  The scene where Hester is buried next to Dimmesdale but still far enough apart because "the dust of the two sleepers had no right to mingle, even in death" suggests the tragedy that the two lovers are still kept apart to suffer the consequences of their sin.  What a sad, tragic ending--a close second to Romeo and Juliet.

The Scarlet Letter: Dimmesdale

     I find Dimmesdale to be an interesting character.  He is a minister, yet he is unwilling to confess sin--something a minister teaches their congregation to do.  He both wants to and doesn't want to come forward as Pearl's father.  In chapter 12, he stands on the scaffold with Hester and Pearl during the night, but refuses to do so in the daylight for everyone to see.  He goes to meet Hester and Pearl as a way of asking for forgiveness yet is unwilling to come forward and ask for forgiveness from the whole town.  He seems like sort of a coward and a hypocrite to me.  Hester is brave and honest; he is the opposite.  I can't blame Pearl for washing off the kiss he gave her in chapter 19--if he truly loved her he would confess his sin and suffer with Pearl and Hester.  But his consequence for sin seem to be worse than Hester's, because although kept in secret, it is eating him up inside.  He is suffering physically because of his guilty conscience, while Hester can move forward and make some meaning of her life.  Dimmesdale's character proves the good that can come of confession, even if the punishment for sin isn't fair.

The Scarlet Letter (ch. 7-8)

     I can't imagine having been ostracized from my society because of having a child out of wedlock, having that child as my only companion, and then being threatened to have the child taken away from me.  I would be desperate at this point, as Hester is.  When she pleads for Dimmesdale to speak for her and her child, it's almost like begging him to do something since he has been absent from her public suffering and has kept his sin, the same sin she is being punished for, to himself.  Dimmesdale bears no consequences for the same sin that Hester is being punished for.  If I were Hester, I too probably would have been losing my faith at this point and been tempted to turn away from God, who seems to have turned away from her.  However, Dimmesdale's eloquent words saved Hester and her child from being split apart, which gave Hester a small glimpse of hope that God may still be with her.  If that is the least Dimmesdale can do, I suppose it was the best that could come out of this situation.

The Scarlet Letter (ch. 5-6)

     These chapters highlight how the town's way of dealing with Hester has only served to further alienate her from community, even the church community who is supposed to forgive her and welcome her back.  And this alienation is taking a toll on Hester's child, who rebels against the Christian faith probably because she sees no benefit for following Christ, she only sees an angry, judgmental God and not a forgiving one.  Through the way they chose to deal with sin, the church is warping Pearl's vision of what the church does.  She doesn't see it as a place that welcomes sinners and is merciful, therefore she doesn't see God as one who does that.  This is evident when she tells Hester, "I have no Heavenly Father!"  And the way the townspeople treat Hester and Prynne is an awful example of how the church is supposed to treat people and care for "the least of these," people who need the most help, including single women and children.  The church could be setting a way better example for being the people of God, yet they choose to distance themselves with a "holier than thou" air about them.

Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter (ch. 1-4)

     One thing pointed out in these first chapters of The Scarlet Letter is how easy it is for us to judge other people, to point out the speck in others' eye while neglecting the plank in our own.  Although I see the merit in confession and in bringing sin to light and dealing with it appropriately, I think the way the townspeople dealt with Hester Prynne was not an appropriate way to deal with sin.  Confession is supposed to bring sin to light but also restore people back into the community of faith, a community that is gracious and forgiving because they too have sinned and understand.  But putting Hester up on a pedestal with the scarlet 'A' as a way of punishing sin did nothing to help the greater community recognize their own sin, nor did it restore Hester back into the community.  The community gave her no grace, but rather further alienated her from themselves.  It is quite possible that many other in the community had committed adultery, but are not being punished because they got lucky and didn't bear the consequences of their sin through a child, as Hester did.  Although the community of people probably didn't think so, I thought they could have learned from Hester, who was unwilling to point out the speck in someone else's eye--specifically, the father's child--but instead was only concerned with dealing with the plank in her own eye.

Thoreau's "Economy"

     I found the first chapter of "Economy" to be rather compelling, because I think Americans could learn a lot from Thoreau's ideas of simplicity.  The standard of living he writes about is a lot lower than the standard of living many Americans think they deserve.  We want nice things, and a lot of them.  Many people, myself included, even own things they never use, just because they can.  Thoreau criticizes this materialistic way of life, saying that we live this way because we've been trained to by our society.  What he suggests is to throw off the expectations of society and learn to live differently, and he suggests we do this by experiencing nature.  Nature offers simplicity, and one can realize that they need only the necessities in life, and not much more than that.  This is something that is challenging for me, because even though I am well aware of the consumeristic, materialistic ways of our society, it's still difficult to stay away from the influence it has over me.  I fall into the same camp as many other Americans, believing that material things can make me happy.  But in order to have these material things, we must work--a lot.  And as Thoreau points out, if we had a lower standard of living and wanted less things, we wouldn't have to work as much.  We could live a life of leisure and be content having just what we need.  These are good things to be aware of as Americans, especially as Christians living in America.  How we choose to spend our time is important to think about, and we don't want to waste it away on the clock.

Ralph Waldo Emerson's "The American Scholar"

     While reading "The American Scholar," I began to question how I go about thinking.  Emerson says that a scholar in the right state is "Man Thinking," but "in the degenerate state, when the victim of society, he tends to become a mere thinker, or, still worse, the parrot of other men's thinking" (521).  As I thought about this idea of being a "parrot of other men's [or women's] thinking," I began to question if I do that myself.  It's easy to take what people say and apply it without question, especially when their ideas sound attractive.  However, this can be problematic, because then we ourselves are not going through the process of learning but taking the short cut after someone else has already done the hard stuff.  And ideas may sound attractive but actually be destructive, which is why we need to apply our critical thinking to formulate our own opinions.  I don't think it's a bad thing to be influenced by the work of others, as long as we don't become blind followers.
     Along with this idea of being a parrot vs. being "Man Thinking," I thought about how we strive to find our identities as human beings.  When someone asks me about myself, I immediately tell them what I do.  It's unfamiliar and seemingly impossible to describe who we are apart from what we do.  Why is that?  I wonder if it is cultural, or if others struggle with the same thing.  Are we so caught up in our work as Americans that we don't know who we really are?  Or is it not possible to separate what we do from who we are?  These are not simply rhetorical questions, I am open to opinions and suggestions! :)

Ralph Waldo Emerson's "Nature"

     Although I understand Emerson's desire to throw out the old ways and bring in the new--"Let us demand our own works and laws and worship"--I think he is missing out on the conclusions drawn from the work done by people of the past.  I think there is something to be gained through tradition, even if it means we learn that the traditions were not good ones.  Maybe I seem to be contradicting myself here.  What I mean to say is that, from my understanding, Emerson is not interested in the past at all, he simply wants to throw it out and pay it no concern.  He doesn't even care to use the past traditions as a guideline for the future.  And the "new" he wants to bring in is largely concerned with experiencing nature and what we learn by doing that.  I would agree with Emerson that we can learn about ourselves and about God from nature, but the line between nature being created by God and nature actually being God is blurred a little by Emerson, in my opinion.  He gives a lot of authority to nature and talks about our interaction with it almost as you would talk about interacting with God himself!  However, I can agree with Emerson on some of his ideas about nature, even if I think he goes to the extreme with them.  I would agree that nature makes us realize how small we are and how little we can affect it in comparison to how much it affects us.  This is something I think we don't understand as much as Westerners.  Nature doesn't affect us as much because we can work around it--if it rains, we go inside.  If it snows, we plow it away.  It's only in events like a hurricane or a tornado that we realize how little influence we have over nature and how powerful nature is.  I would also agree with Emerson that nature can stimulate thought and that we are forever in awe of it; no matter how many times we see a sunset, we never cease to be amazed by it.  I think the way that Emerson speaks of nature is very romantic and beautiful, even if I think he worships it a little too much!

From Columbus to Equiano

     We began this unit talking about Columbus and his tactics used to persuade and flatter Ferdinand and Isabella, we heard from John Smith, marketing America and urging people from England to move and make a profitable and successful life for themselves, John Winthrop emphasized the importance of Christian charity and encouraged America to be a model to the world, but then we read some of the people who were having a harder and more realistic time living in this new land that the first few spoke of.  We heard from Mary Rowlandson, about the dark side of America which included violence, death, and captivity, and we heard from another oppressed woman--although suffering a different type of oppression.  Anne Bradstreet used her poetry to call into question the presuppositions many had that women innately lacked ability to write well.  We then heard from another poet--one who called forward the feminine side of God in his work "Huswifery" and used his meditations to get his congregation to reflect on God.  After we talked about another important pastoral figure, Jonathan Edwards, and his harsh exhortation to the church to turn from sin, we then moved on to important political figures, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and Alexander Hamilton and James Madison's writing in "The Federalist."  But to wrap up the unit, we heard from two other slaves, one a narrative of Equiano's life, and the other poetry by Phyllis Wheatley describing how coming to America introduced her to God.
     Throughout this unit, the themes I have found stuck out to me were slavery/captivity, success/wealth, ideas about government/politics, and Christian morals/religion.  As I have tried to understand how these all work together, it has made me think of today's America, and how all of these themes still have lingering affects.  Understanding the past through these literary lenses has helped me to make sense of the future.  However, if we don't learn from the past, everything will remain how it is.  We certainly have a lot to work on in America, but as long as we have these past texts to point out what went wrong in the past, we can use them to point us in the right direction for the future.  I'm gaining an appreciation for early American Literature after asl!

Phillis Wheatly

     One thing that I struggled with while reading Wheatly was how she talked about her conversion to Christianity after she was brought to America.  In "On Being Brought from Africa to America," she says in the first line, "'Twas mercy brought me from my pagan land," suggesting that it was God who brought her to America.  In "To the University of Cambridge," she similarly says, "Twas not long since I left my native shore / The land of errors, and Egyptian gloom: / Father of mercy, 'twas Thy gracious hand / Brought me in safety from those dark abodes."  I struggle with this because she was brought to America as a slave, which means that, in this case, God made her a slave in America so that she could come to know him.  This makes me a little uncomfortable.  I don't doubt that God can work through difficult situations and use them for good, but the thought that putting her in slavery was God's will causes tension for me.  At the same time, I think of Joseph's story of being sold into slavery in Egypt, and how God worked through that situation to make Joseph a leader and the second most powerful man in Egypt.  I also thought it was interesting in "To the University" how Wheatly attributed her conversion to education.  She says, "Still more, ye sons of science ye receive / The blissful news by messengers from Heav'n / How Jesus' blood for your redemption flows."  These lines seem to suggest that Wheatly came to Christianity largely by the education she got in America.  On one hand, it is wonderful that Wheatly came to know Christ while enduring slavery, which could have easily turned her away from what she could think was the God of her oppressors, but on the other hand it's strange to think that it was "God's will" for her to come to know him this way.  When people explain death or tragedy with "it's all a part of God's plan" I struggle with this and question it.  Is it a part of God's plan or is it a result of a sinful world?  If anyone has any thoughts on how they feel about this, I would love to hear them!

"What Is an American": De Crevecoeur in My Words

     I wish I could be acquainted with the feelings and thoughts which must agitate the heart and present themselves to the mind of an immigrant or refugee first arriving in America.  They must perceive that we have it all in America, and if we don't have it all, we can have it all through our toils.  They must necessarily feel a share of national pride in the great opportunity that America promises, seeing that everyone has a car, food is widely available, water is clean and free, and there is a house on every corner.  Here the immigrant beholds developed cities, buildings with hundreds of windows offering hundreds of jobs, good roads, and even what is said to be the worst of conditions is better than they could imagine.  A sea of milky white faces blurs before them, and a chorus of a single language sings out together.  This is the most perfect society now existing in the world.  Here each person is as free and safe as they ought to be; one can worship as they please, speak as they please, and even disagree with the government on political affairs without the threat of death or imprisonment.
     Yes, America is a great nation where one has freedom do go about life as one sees fit.  America keeps her citizens safe and free, offering the opportunity to "have it all" and exist in a society where one's voice matters.  But these ideals do not come without consequences.  In the quest to "have it all," the American citizen becomes wrapped up in greed, and when they do have it all, still they want more.  The citizen is never satisfied with their conditions, ones which are better than citizens of a less fortunate country could ever imagine.  Yes, the American citizen is safe and free, but in the quest to maintain these privileges, is unwilling to sacrifice this for the betterment of the foreign brother or sister.  We are a privileged nation, and one that hasn't had to think without these privileges present.  We are a nation wrapped up in consumerism, greed, and selfishness; we have lost our sense of empathy and care for those that do not share in our privileges.  But some citizens recognize this and work still to right the wrongs.  America continues to struggle with greed and generosity, consumerism and a stable economy, corrupt politics and leaders seeking to better our nation.  We are never satisfied, but we will not allow our nation to sink into despair and cease to make an impact on the world.  We are not the most perfect society existing in the world, as some citizens have recognized, and laying down this pride, we work together to assist each other and the foreigner seeking refuge.  This is what makes America great--that we have the opportunity to aid where others may not, if only we use that opportunity well.

Jonathan Edwards

     As I was reading Jonathan Edwards' "Personal Narrative," I couldn't help but notice how affectionately he speaks of God.  He talks often of having found an inward, sweet delight, and how his prayers are filled with longing: "I very often think with sweetness and longings and pantings of soul, of being a little child, taking hold of Christ, to be led by him through the wilderness of this world;" (177)  "After this my sense of divine things gradually increased, and became more and more lively, and had more of that inward sweetness" (173).  The way he spoke of God was the way you might hear one speak of a lover.

     Yet fast forward to "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," and I'm not so sure we're speaking of the same God.  It's difficult to understand how you could be affectionate toward God, who "holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked" (200).  This God seems to be just barely restraining himself from blotting out all of these sinful, loathsome creates that are known as humans.    I felt like this message was less of an appealing one.  The message I got from his Personal Narrative was that God desires relationship with you and will fulfill your longings--this message was enticing and welcoming people into heaven.  But the message I got from this second writing is more of a message meant to literally scare the hell out of you.

     It's interesting to get both of these pictures of God from the same person.  Both are biblically backed, and both give us a greater picture of God, even though we want to believe one more than the other.  Although I gave Jonathan Edwards a bad review earlier, maybe I should give him some grace, as he is only trying to explore different aspects of who God is.

Who is "We?"

     As I've been pondering who the "we" is so far in American history, I'm still not quite sure.  The "we" John Smith refers to is targeted at people who want to build from the ground up, pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and become successful and affluent.  The "we" John Winthrop refers to are a group of people who hold tightly to their Christian morals, who desire to create a better future for themselves, like John Smith, but desire to do so by sacrificing for others and submitting to the teaching of the church and scripture.  The "we" that Mary Rowlandson refers to are those being oppressed by the Native Americans.

     Although "we" is meant to refer to a collective group, the way that these different authors have used it has inevitably excluded people from it.  In trying to find a common ground to work off of for the common good, someone has been left out.  There is always people who do not share the same convictions and beliefs, and those who do not care for the common good but more for themselves.  This is the struggle and tension we have in America.  After reading Obama's speech on the first day of class, I couldn't help but think that the "we" he used didn't always apply to everyone.  It was a biased "we," but as I've been thinking about it, I'm not sure that there can ever be an unbiased "we."  All we can hope to do is to keep struggling to find a better and more common ground, even if we don't ever get there completely.  And now I'm going to be careful about how I use "we." 

Anne Bradstreet and Edward Taylor

     I really enjoyed reading Anne Bradstreet, especially the Prologue.  I liked how she used sarcasm to convey her message, and to get the reader to see things from a feminine perspective.  A male reader at the time who understood the sarcasm she used would be forced to read her work for what it's worth instead of just "say it's stol'n, or else it was by chance," as Bradstreet points out is often done.  Since Bradstreet has already put those assumptions into words, it forces the reader to question what assumptions they are working from.  After reading, "Men can do it best, and women know it well," gives the reader a chance to question if this statement is true, or if Bradstreet is again making use of sarcasm. This poem, as well written as it is, is as a whole ironic.  The poem is pointing out how women don't get recognition for their work, even if it is well done.  And since this poem is so well written, it forces the reader to take women's writing seriously and to see that women are qualified and talented at things other than just housework or sewing.
     I also appreciated Edward Taylor's "Huswifery."  As we talked about in class, Taylor makes use of a spinning wheel and traditionally feminine tasks of making clothing to give us an image of God.  Oftentimes we think of God as a male being, and he can seem somewhat inaccessible to women at times.  But as we are all--both female and male--made in God's image, there is more to God than just masculinity.  We tend to neglect his feminine qualities, and Taylor's choice to point them out is one I find commendable.  Pointing out both feminine and masculine qualities gives us a fuller image of God and makes him relatable to all of us.  It also gives room for both men and women to act in ways that may not be "traditional" of their gender, yet they have freedom to do so as they learn how to best serve a God who is not solely masculine or feminine.

Mary Rowlandson

     As I read Mary Rowlandson's captivity narrative, I was fairly critical about her in two ways: 1. about how she spoke of her unwavering faith and 2. the racist comments she made about the Native Americans.  From the beginning she is quoting scripture and saying things like, "yet the Lord by His almighty power preserved a number of us from death," and "as He wounded me with one hand, so he healed me with the other."  She also refers to the Native Americans as "merciless heathens," "ravenous beasts," and the "barbarous enemy."  But my critique of her became more of a questioning of myself: 1. would I, in her circumstance, have trusted that the Lord was good? and 2. would I have refrained from racist comments or thoughts?  I'm not so sure on either of them.  I applaud her devotedness and trust that the Lord was at work even in the worst of circumstances, but at times it seemed a little too optimistic.  I'm not so sure that I would have been so confident--I want to say that I would have, but it's hard to say as I haven't actually been in those circumstances.  It's also hard to say that I wouldn't have said the same racist comments that she did in her writing.  If I had encountered people very different than myself and observed that their goal was to kill me and those like me, I might have thought of them as "ravenous beasts" or the "barbarous enemy."  Again, I want to say that I wouldn't but as I tried to put myself in her shoes, I questioned this.  But that is what I appreciate about literature.  Oftentimes when I hear or read about other people's actions it's easy to criticize and condemn them for the way they did things.  But literature allows me the opportunity to see things with someone else's eyes and ask hard questions of myself.  It also gives me the opportunity to learn from someone else's mistakes.

John Smith

     Growing up on Disney movies gave me a warm, romantic idea of the type of guy that John Smith was, but reading about him in our anthology put that to rest.  However, I think John Smith would want us to keep warm, heroic feelings toward him.  In "Virginia, New England, and the Summer Isles," he writes about himself in third person, "Captain Smith, who, by his own example, good words, and fair promises, set some to mow, others to bind thatch, some to build houses, others to thatch them, himself always bearing the greatest task for his own share so that in short time he provided most of them lodgings, neglecting any for himself."  Pretty sneaky how takes advantage of a third person narrative to throw in this description of his chivalry and humility.  Clearly he has a convincing case about his character, and he also uses these persuasive tactics in an attempt to get people to move to New England--marketing techniques, as we called them on Monday.  In "A Description of New England," he paints a pretty picture, as well as prodding at people's character in order to persuade them to move: "If he have but the taste of virtue, and magnanimity, what to such a mind can be more pleasant, than planting and building a foundation for his posterity, got from the rude earth, by God's blessing and his own industry, without prejudice to any?"  Instead of talking about the likely realities and harsh conditions of New England, how the new settlers would have to rough it for quite some time, he gives a convincing and patriotic message about building from the ground up, starting fresh, and creating your own life and prosperity through hard work.  And he throws God in the mix, telling them that they would have God's blessing on their endeavors.  Basically, if you didn't move to America, you were lazy, probably a coward, and most likely lacked trust in God.  Plus he gives them some insurance at the end, saying "And if I abuse you with my tongue, take my head for satisfaction.  If any dislike at the year's end, defraying their charge, by my consent they should freely return."  How can you say no to that?  Satisfaction guaranteed.  John Smith approved.