Transformation: Medea (Reflection)

In the past few weeks, the focus of our English classes has been unpacking, analysing and discussing the Greek play Medea, written by Euripedes and centred around a woman who will kill her children. What has been especially interesting for me has been examining Medea’s complex and conflicted character within social contexts and the role of the woman (as a mother, sister, daughter or wife) traversing across time.

I surprised myself by having relatively strong feelings about Medea (which I did not have for Hedda Gabler, a character we looked at earlier in the year). This was something that definitely transformed the way my observations developed as we began to pick apart individual scenes in the play. I held pity, admiration, sympathy and empathy for Medea at varying points in the plot, and the complexity of my own response to Medea was an additional element I had to supervise and regulate in order to present a balanced interpretation and analysis of the play. For example, I held great regard for her within her encounters with Jason and in the ways in which she manipulated her exchanges with the male characters. I thought her cunning, but in a celebratory way – I admired the strength of her agency. However, I also felt empathy for her suffering and her motherhood, her grief and her guilt, but pity for her circumstance and her reactions to her situation. I think that as part of a modern audience, my reaction is heavily influenced by my own beliefs that are shaped by modern feminism, and this is something I learned to take into consideration as I shaped my analysis of the play.

Another thing I found interesting was the examination and comparison of multiple translations and adaptations of the play, and upon which sentences or lines the emphasis was placed, or where in the play edits or new metaphors were introduced. This transformed the way I viewed interpretation – it revealed to me the nuances in different perspectives as they viewed the text, as well as how the text transforms over time depending on which societal lens it is examined through. Watching the play adapted for a modern audience was also incredibly interesting, especially within the costume design, blocking, staging and lighting, and truly changed the way I read plays. Medea’s white pantsuit, I felt, was a wonderful choice of clothing due to the symbolicism of the colour, and the way it conveyed her agency using pants instead of a skirt, yet still emphasizing a feminine waist and cut. I also thought it was interesting that the place where Medea kills her children is bathed in bright white light, and as Jason approaches the murder scene at the end of the play, the white light shines upon his face, casting a shadow across the stage. Through this play, I learned to observe details such as these, and I feel that this certainly enriched my experience and understanding.

Although I probably could write at some length more what I thought about Medea, I feel that the insights above are more than sufficient. Thank you for reading 🙂

Poetry Journey

  

Poetry: A Learning Process 

Throughout our exploration of poetry in class this year, I’ve been able to expand my knowledge of the different techniques used by poets to create meaning, but also further explore the ideas of voice and identity. My notes now contain a whole list of questions and techniques that I can use to rip apart a poem for analysis, and with each poem we encounter I get to refine these skills more. Something that I particularly liked about studying poetry was studying rhyme – all the different types of rhyme, and especially how they can be used in a musical context (whether that’s in the cadence and pacing of a poem, or in songs themselves).

We looked at one poet in particular – Philip Larkin, exploring the way he uses slang, colloquialisms and coarser, more vulgar language in poetry and the effect that this has on the way the reader perceives the speaker of the poem. I found this interesting because of the way we often view poetry as something formal or something ‘beautiful’ to be appreciated, but there’s nothing ‘beautiful’ about the word ‘piss’.

Something challenging for me while exploring poetry (and something I’d like to continue working on in the future) is in the way that I read it. Being so accustomed to reading prose, sometimes the enjambment and/or sudden stops in lines confuse me, and I start thinking of it as a grammatical error rather than a purposeful choice made by the poet in the way they structure their poem.

I look forward to reading other different poems from different poets (BIPOC/LGBTQ+ poetry, for example)!

Grade 10: Personal Statement

The first thought I had when writing this, was how on earth am I ever going to top last year’s personal statement? 

For a few years now, I’ve been trying to come up with new and original concepts for doing my personal statement. In Grade 8, for example, I wrote a dystopian fictional short story looking back on all the events of the year (with the nostalgia that a 13-year-old should definitely not have any clue about). In Grade 9, I likened the many books I’d read over the years to events in my life, making awful attempts at dry humour (which was almost definitely me trying to cover up all of my gaping insecurities). It was probably one of the most ‘me’ things I’ve ever written. 

And this year, the pressure was on to find something new and different to do. But to be honest, if last year’s personal statement was the truest to me my writing’s ever been, then why would I have to change that? 

Why on earth do I feel this overwhelming pressure to try and top myself? 

To be honest, I don’t think that any of the other ideas that I came up with would be as fitting as last year’s concept. And there’s something sweet about concept consistency, it allows the idea to mature and evolve over time, organically, just like the storyline and rising tension of Kokoro, by Natsume Soseki. It feels like you’re waiting, constantly, for something to happen, not realising that there’s something growing, and growing, and growing – and I feel that’s perfectly fitting when describing my year. 

I’ve actually had one aspiration for over a year now! (I know, I can’t really believe it myself.) My aspirations have been growing (I really hope they continue to do so, while I sit there blissfully unaware). I still want to teach, preferably in university, and I want to be in the humanities field. As Grade-9 me so eloquently put it, ‘After all, with the amount of time I spend on ‘intellectual’ pursuits, being in a learning institution is a place I think I’ll be quite happy for a long period of time.” 

And speaking of intellectual pursuits… 

This year, I am very proud to announce that I was shortlisted for the 2020 Immerse Essay Competition (in Philosophy), therefore winning a partial scholarship to Cambridge University Summer School. Although the pandemic threw a spanner in the works (meaning I’m going to be attending the course next year), winning a scholarship gave me the self-esteem boost that I’ve needed for years. (Here’s the essay if you’d like to read it.) 

Even though I know that I’ll be wrestling with my self-esteem for a very long time, hopefully I’ll emerge victorious from the seas like the Old Man from Hemingway’s famous novel (that I finally read). Future me, please look upon past me with kindness, and empathy, because past me looks at you with all the love and hope she possesses. 

This year, I’ve also managed to win my National Youth Achievement Award (in Silver) as well as become Co-Chair of Ladakh GC, the current oldest GC at the school. However, I feel that these achievements are only meaningful because of the experiences they brought. Doing the Achievement Awards exposed me to the convalescents at Hougang Care Centre in Singapore, and in particular, the most sincere ‘Thank you’ I’ve ever experienced. 

This ‘thank you’ was spoken to me only in my first few weeks of doing the service, and it was said while looking directly into my eyes. They took my hand, and spoke quietly, hushed, with such deep gratitude that I could even see it in the blackness of their pupils. I was speechless for a few moments. I had been so wrapped up in making sure that the activity was done well, and that they were engaged, barely acknowledging my own work and constantly doubting myself – but all that crumbled in a single moment at the sound of two words – ‘thank you’. I don’t even know if I can describe how much that moved me. They went out of their way to shake my hand and thank me, because I created a change. A change in the monotony, a change in what is ‘normal’. I tampered with Arundhati Roy’s Love Laws,  just for a moment, and they thanked me for it. 

And it is experiences like these that truly made my year. I was in Write for Rights again this year, and managed to fulfill my goal of 80 letters in 24 hours (I in fact wrote 85). This week of tiredness and a sore wrist gave someone, somewhere, a chance at a home, and it was so worth it. We even received a reply this year (even though it was slightly condescending), and that truly filled me with a sense of achievement. 

This year, I’ve also gained a new interest, and a new area of expertise: Web Design! I’ve designed many websites now, and created countless resources for service groups at school to develop their portfolio websites. My own website (on which you’re probably reading this) is one of my crowning achievements, and is hand-made from scratch. I’ve also designed the HS Service Exec Site (the information database and all it’s pages specifically), as well as the Ladakh GC portfolio and the Fitness with Hougang Care Centre site. 

And now, I finally move on to the most awaited part of my personal statement – and the ‘Most Impactful Book of the 2019-2020 School Year’ goes to… 

(It’s absolutely no fun if you don’t drumroll) 

‘Beloved’, by Toni Morrison. 

Surprisingly, this wasn’t that difficult of a choice, despite all the other books I’ve read this year (runners up: Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro and All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque). It’s extremely hard to summarise how ‘Beloved’ made me feel, but almost throughout the entire thing I felt like my heart was being ripped from it’s veins, shredding into strips of bloodied flesh, and then stitched back together and shoved right back into my hands below the gaping, black hole in my chest. Once you started reading, the words seemed to suck you in and rearrange themselves into what Morrison was truly trying to say, grammar rules be damned. The strange rhythm of the words is lilting, lyrically and empathetically capturing the most grotesque and cruel part of our nature yet still maintaining to present the beauty of the resilience of the human spirit, and the hope and endurance we hold despite the pain and abuse inflicted by years of history. 

And someday, in the future, maybe when I’m a professor in a university somewhere, I hope to read Beloved again, and have my heart taken away from me again. 

That’s all from me this year. Thank you for reading.

The Short Story Medium and the Purpose of Writers

The Short Story Medium

What I find particularly special about the short story medium, is that it’s more practical and accessible than a novel, but still fulfils the same purpose as one. I also find that sometimes short stories are much easier to understand than novels are. Perhaps it has something to do with the general lessened attention spans of our generation, so that we can only keep focus for the first 500 words or so, or the fact that we find more short stories online than novels (and our understanding of writing on a screen trumps that of our ability to flip through the pages of a book). Perhaps those two things are related. 

 

But I digress. 

 

As a (somewhat) aspiring writer, short stories are much easier to wrap my head around structurally than a novel. They not only take less time to write, but also less time to plan and edit. One can still make good use of all the devices within a ‘writer’s toolbox’, structure, narrative, tone, character, yet within 1000 words. This also, however, has the odd effect of adding even more meaning to each word in a capitalist sort of way, since there’s less of them. Each word counts

 

And I find that I quite like that. 

 

Short stories take less time to analyse than a novel, too. You have the time to swim through the connotations of each and every word. Unlike novels, where there are hundreds of thousands of words to analyse. (This, however, does not take away from the overall meaning and impact of a novel. I respect novelists a great deal, for their patience especially.) But short stories can be infinitely more accessible.

 

Should a writer be explicit with their purpose?

In my opinion, this defeats the purpose of writing and literature entirely. It’s proven impossible to tell others what or how to think. Allowing people to create meaning for themselves is proven to be the most effective way of impacting someone. It is the dialogue between a writer and reader that gives the story it’s meaning. Without a reader to interpret it, writing is meaningless. 

 

After all, it’s shared thoughts and pure need that created language in the first place. Language’s inherent nature is in its use – if a word is no longer used, then it loses its meaning (such as the word, ‘betwixt’. Who uses that anymore? It’s meaning has evaporated from the public consciousness, and may as well be considered lost). And words must be spoken, written or communicated from one person to another, that is how they are used. There needs to be at least two people in order to properly use the word and allow it’s connotations to reach the mind, which is exactly why a writer and a reader both create meaning, together. 

 

I have asked many writers at the book launches and forums I’ve been to, “Do you write your story with the intent of what meaning you want to create from the very beginning, or does the story just come out of you?” 

 

And a lot of writers have said that it’s both. They have a vague idea of what they are really saying, but are also invested in telling the story. That is what is important. And all emphasized the importance of readers. Without the reader to give interpretations and to associate connotations, the purpose of the story falls flat. Associating meaning is also a personal task. Those thoughts evoked inside a reader’s mind are what writers aim to create. The reader must create meaning from within their own heads from reading, and the writer facilitates that. The power to evoke thoughts and emotions is what makes writing so powerful

 

Not all writers know what exact meaning/concept they want to evoke. This is the reason why all of our theses for papers can be different, because there’s a special subtlety conveyed within each story. Not to mention, everyone would still interpret words in a different way. It would also be extremely boring if a writer just stated, “This piece is about the inevitability of people extending their judgement on everyone, even themselves,” because that only narrows the piece in its scope, but also removes the aspect of the reader figuring it out themselves, and therefore believing in the story. And even with a sentence like that, people would still find different interpretations, such as focusing on the harshness of the self on, well, the self, or as Marshall has also conveyed, blaming others based on limited evidence. People will naturally interpret things differently, so what’s the point of trying to be straight up? Allow their minds to run wild. It’s often a lot more fun that way, and people gain a lot more out of it. 

 

And when a reader creates their own meaning, the story becomes so much more believable. The reader gains the added satisfaction of ‘figuring it out’ as well as seeing perhaps another universal truth about humanity they had not considered before. Such is the beauty of language

 

And all I’m left to wonder, is how humanity can commit such atrocities (genocide, destruction, atom bombs) but manage to create something as complex and beautiful as language, and use it daily. This is the human condition. And this is why we have art in the first place. 

 

A sincere thank you for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful day. 

Term 1: English Class

Term 1: English Class

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English Class
Term 1

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5 Things I’ve Learned this Term:
1. I’ve learned a lot about language as a whole and how it changes over time, including how new words are developed, and why exactly language has the words it does. Language is definitely shaped by culture, but it’s also really interesting how languages do have direct translations and why that is, and how interesting it is that all cultures and people from all around the world can think in relatively the same ways. It’s like how cultures may have many words for colour, but those that don’t usually always have words for black/dark, white/light or red, and that’s a constant.

2. I’ve learned about unseen text commentaries, and what makes a good one. I’ve definitely improved my skills over the term when it comes to writing a commentary on an unseen text, and have practiced doing lots of thinking on unseen texts, which will definitely help me in exams, sometime in the future.

3. I’ve learned about how to write a good thesis, and what exactly a good thesis needs to have to be, well, good. This includes things like vaguely outlining your essay, posing debatable arguments that leave you room to support them afterwards, and using clear language to define your stance or position.

4. I’ve learned how to use a semicolon; this definitely makes my writing a lot more professional.

5. I’ve learned a lot of new vocabulary, ‘idiolect’, ‘lineation’, ‘caesura’, ‘allusion’, ‘plosive’, ‘meter’, ‘sibilance’, ‘consonance’, ‘fricative’, just to name a few, and also how, when and where to use these in exam conditions, especially when I’m writing a commentary. However, I’ve also learned the meanings behind these words, like what ‘situational irony’ means, or what an ‘interjection’ is, and have had practice using them when I write.

1 Thing I Need to Work on:
I’m going to quote my English teacher on this, and tell myself: ‘Write in pen!’

However, I think that I can still work on my text analysing skills, and I plan to do lots of reading over the break to improve.

-Teia