You,
the mechanical miracle worker,
refuse to accept extermination.
Armed with Youtube videos
and an amp metre
you search for solutions,
find the secret place
frozen peas hide,
discover three decades of debris.
Determination pays:
You sit back, satisfied,
when hum and chilled air,
declare life.
Death defeated.
Obliteration blocked.
Cold box immaculate in revived vitality.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
(ignore any ads placed here by WordPress. I do not endorse them).
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
Oh, her longings are loud
and she seizes opportunities,
reads the mysteries and leaps.
.
Oh, her caution curls her
into weeping domesticity,
because she never neglects responsibilities.
.
Oh, love leaps from the river
like a dolphin and tangles in
fishermen’s nets
and bridal veils.
.
.
A little homage to the theatrical presentation of the Brazilian folk tale The River Bride by Marisela Treviño Orta, enjoying its world premier at Oregon Shakespeare Festival at the moment (2016 season). We thoroughly enjoyed the complex tale with its stunning set and lighting!
Eyes forward
Seeing what he wants to see.
Ears closed to cries or criticism.
Fill out the forms
Check the boxes.
Everyone must fit somewhere,
conformity is the only rule.
Follow the tracks.
Three brass bangles
Two copper bangles
Artisan wrought
a mature gift to a teenaged babysitter
who couldn’t quite pull them off,
but they stayed in the jewelry box a fond memory
of adorable little boys, a polished professional couple, and a spotless, earthy home.
Enter small daughter to whom the jewelry box
was full of magic, and bangles were magic rings set for a journey.
Journey they did!
What mystical adventure were the copper bangles on for a decade or two?
Four houses later they re-appear in my jewelry box.
If only they could talk.
Outside the snow is deep.
Inside, a ladybug crawls up my computer cord
All eighteen spots out of place,
It launches off my computer
having delivered a moment of grace.
She is full
of dark visions.
She wears
prickly armour,
of protruding spikes .
She shows a
black expression
daring you to come closer
but you step
into her darkness,
with a candle of consideration
share her visions
and show her
what kindness looks like.
.
.
(For Robin, just one of my many amazing teacher colleagues).
I’ve mentioned before that authors choose their characters’ names very carefully, researching them like they would for their own children. These offspring of the imagination need a name that edifies the reader about their traits, either in agreement or contradiction.
Last weekend I read Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter. I haven’t read it since college, and although I remember the plot well enough that I was shocked and dismayed by the movie version a few years ago, I had lost some of the finer points. Unfortunately, I didn’t finish reading until moments before book club, and I didn’t get a chance to do some of the research I’d like to have done on the characters’ names. So I’ll do some of that exploration here.
The protagonist of the story, of course, is Hester Prynne. Her name is delightfully symbolic, though I can’t say I’ve ever seen reference to this in any on-line study guides I’ve skimmed through.
Her first name, Hester, is Greek. Like “Aster” it means Star. This meaning opens up several possible interpretations. A star is a beacon that guides the lost. A star illuminates the darkness. A star is unreachable. A star cannot be hidden for long, even if it is covered by cloud, it is still above all, shining. A star is forever burning. A star can implode and suck others into the void. A star inspires stories, music, and wishes. Now consider the character of Hester and all the ways those things apply to her…
Her last name, Prynne, is not an accident either. Although it doesn’t mean anything to us, to Hawthorne it would have been a classical Puritan choice, like naming a Mennonite character Friesen or Reimer. William Prynne was a very famous Puritan leader and pamphleteer. He lived in England and wrote denouncing the Church of England and its Archbishop Laud. Over objections to some of his writings, he found himself in court a time or two, and managed to get his ears cut off as a disciplinary measure. He was rather successful in his campaigns, however, because Archbishop Laud was executed. Like William Prynne, Hester Prynne was punished publically, but challenged authority by bearing unapologetically the mark of shame, and thereby turning it into a badge of honour.
I ponder whether Hawthorne could have known the Sanskrit word prem, which is a homophone of Prynne? Prem means love. Seems pretty coincidental, doesn’t it? Hester Prynne was a star of love, blazing above her community, having flaunted the moral rules of the community by embellishing the token of sin and becoming a beacon and a talisman.
(c) Shawn Bird. Students, to avoid plagiarism, cite this article as follows:
Bird, Shawn. “Hester Prynne: the star of love” https://shawnbird.com/2011/02/17/hester-prynne/ Collected (insert the date you copied the information)
There are four posts on this blog about characters from The Scarlet Letter. Click to see all four.
Shawn L. Bird 
Arthur Dimsdale: can’t see his power February 19, 2011
Tags: Arthur Dimsdale, characters, names, nathaniel hawthorne, postaday2011, symbolism, The Scarlet Letter
A third character to explore in The Scarlet Letter is the minister, Arthur Dimsdale. Many sources narrow in symbolically on the idea that Dimsdale is ‘dim.’ Dim as in stupid, when he fails to recognise the evil in Chillingsworth. Dim as in weak, as his physical health declines. Dim as in muted light, when he is hiding himself in the dark of his denial of Hester and Pearl.
However, there is far more to explore here. Dale means ‘valley.’ I live in a valley, and I love the sense of comfort and security the hills provide. One feels hidden away, not everyone can see you when you’re in a valley. Being in a valley cuts off light though. The sun isn’t visible until it has climbed over the hills, and it leaves earlier dropping behind them. This gives valley dwellers a shorter day. Being down in the valley also limits our perspective. We see what we see of our own little area, we don’t get a sense of the larger world unless we climb up to the top of the mountains. Isolation tends to produce navel gazers, and this certainly applies to Dimsdale. He has no sense of a wider world of possibility open to him.
Finally, Arthur is an old Welsh name means ‘bear.’ There are lots of bears where I live as well, so I know something of their characteristics and I see Arthur reflected in this name choice as well. A bear is a powerful creature which has the ability to get whatever it wants, but it can be defeated until it becomes a dancing bear- moving to the tune of trainer who has weakened it, until it has no idea of its power anymore. A bear looks distinguished and capable to some, but the bear itself often seems slow and stupid, going about motions without a lot of consideration to more creative solutions (return to the same places to feed on easy garbage, for example, instead of fleeing to the safety of the wilderness where freedom means more effort). Bears also hibernate. They fill themselves and climb into their dens and ignore the world, stuck in their own dreams until awakened by the hunger for more. However, this is the time when bears are their most vulnerable, for a hunter can pick them off as they groggily head out the door.
Yes, Nathaniel Hawthorne made a very appropriate name choice for Arthur Dimsdale!
(c) Shawn Bird. Students, to avoid plagarism, cite this article as follows:
Bird, Shawn. “Arthur Dimsdale: can’t see his power.” https://shawnbird.com/2011/02/20/arthur-dimsdal…-see-his-power/ Collected (insert the date you copied the information)
Share this:
Like this: