Thursday, December 4, 2008

Future Readings

If you liked Oscar Zeta Acosta's Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo, you might like the sequel The Revolt of the Cockroach People.

If you liked Bob Dylan's Chronicles and enjoyed Todd Haynes' movie I'm Not There, you might like Greil Marcus' book The Old, Weird America.

If you liked James Weldon Johnson's novel Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man, you might like his actual autobiography Along This Way.

In the off-chance you liked Gertrude Stein's Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, you might like her first and easiest-to-read novel Three Lives.

If you liked Zitkala-Sa's American Indian Stories, you will probably enjoy Sherman Alexie's collection of short fiction The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. (Alexie's work has appeared The New Yorker, and he has appeared on The Colbert Report.)

If you liked Marjane Satrapi's graphic novel Persepolis, you will find Art Spiegelman's Maus worthwhile. You might also want to read Zimbabwean novelist Tsitsi Dangaremba's Nervous Conditions, which is not a graphic novel, but Dangarembga deals with issues similar to that of Satrapi.

Whether or not you liked Ben Franklin's Autobiogrpahy, you should read Piri Thomas' 1967 autobiography Down These Means Streets.

If you liked Harriet Wilson's Our Nig, then you should read everything by Toni Morrison.

If you liked James Seaver's Narrative in the Life of Ms. Mary Jemison, then you'd find Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States pretty interesting.

A few more novels that I like, which you may or may not:
Gunter Grass, The Tin Drum.
John Okada, No-No Boy.
Arundathi Roy, The God of Small Things.

Lastly, Joan Didion's allusively-titled essay collection The White Album, and Oliver Sacks' clinical tales The Man who Mistook His Wife for a Hat are good reads.

Enjoy!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Virginia's Paper (by Wanda)

Virginia’s paper is about Bob Dylan’s Chronicles and Simmel’s essay, “The Stranger.” She argues that Dylan purposefully distances himself from the reader, who reads the book in order to get a closer perspective on his life, and decides to rather remain a stranger, like the one described in Simmel’s essay. Thus, Virginia’s essay analyzes Dylan’s style of writing that plays around with the persona and identity, and how it portrays Dylan as the “Stranger.” The thesis explains three aspects of Dylan’s writing that puts distance between him and the reader: labeling himself as the Outsider, admitting a part of his life that most people have no idea of, and depicting himself as a free vagabond, or a frontiersman. The antithesis is that sometimes Dylan tries to actively reach out for the reader and minimize the distance. Yet, the thesis and antithesis synthesizes into Virginia’s conclusion that Dylan’s promotion of both distance and connection he remains a mystical and mythical figure, undermining our hopes to know him better.


I would like some more explanation about the antithesis and how it reaffirms Dylan’s status as a stranger, in relation to Simmel’s essay. Does the sense of connection and closeness act as a camouflage, to trick the reader into knowing him well? Or is it another veil, another actual step Dylan takes back from the readers?

Wanda's Paper

Wanda’s paper addresses the dual identities present in Johnson’s Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man and uses Du Bois essay “Of Our Spiritual Strivings” to deepen the argument. Her thesis states being black in America extends to “white” people as well. Her argument is developed by referring to the changes that Johnson (the narrator) goes through throughout the book. She addresses how Johnson, who originally identifies as a white person, learns to look down on blacks while in his original situation. Once he finds out he is bi-racial, he begins to feel confused about his identity and begins to withdraw himself from white society, isolating himself with his music. At this point, he is at an in-between stage. Wanda then introduces the idea that even though he begins to identify more with his black heritage, he does not completely abandon his white identity. However, the way he relates to white culture changes. In his relationship, he seems more like a secondary citizen. For instance, in the way he strives to date white women yet doesn’t think himself fully worthy or the way he works for a white man as an entertainer. After this, he continues to “flip-flop” between cultures, mixing aspects of both, yet never belonging to either. This sense of uncertain, incomplete belonging is similar to what is outlined in Du Bois.

I think Wanda does a good job of explaining, with numerous examples, they ways that a “double consciousness” exists. However it is not really clarify why it exists. Why can’t a person simply identify as a mixture? One way to answer this is to look at the role of society more closely. It might be interesting to look at travel; how does his identification and understanding of his race vary depending on his location?In the south, he considers himself to be black, in the North he relates more closely with white. Together this indicates race is a product of surrounding.

Vu's Paper

Vu's underlying topic surrounds itself around the scarring of Frado's life, and the inability of the characters in the story to subsequently act upon Frado's pain and be "moral" human beings. To add onto this point Vu explains that W.E.B Dubois' idea of the double-consciousness directly correlates with Frado's situation as a free-slave in a Northern home where she is forced to act as a servant. Vu proposes the fact that the "double-existance" that Frado holds is the underlying theme in "Our Nig". Even though Frado is a free-citizen she still has to face the cultural hatred that the Bellmont family throws at her. Frado comes to the point where she disowns her very being because of the hatred she has to put up with on a daily basis. Frado loses her identity as a black girl even though she is technically able to be whomever she desires without feeling persecuted (she is free). One of Vu's point signals that even the characters who seem to at least try to act based upon their sense of morality seem to succomb to the cruelty and prejudice that the Bellmont family imposes on her.
The characters in the story that try to help Frado seem to attempt to uphold the standards and ideologies of the North. Whenever Mr. Bellmont treats Frado as an equal or even attempts to do so, it seems that someone else in the family brings her down.
Vu's final point focuses on the fact that the internal struggle amongst the characters seems to manifest itself physically through death and illness. Ultimatley one of the only people in the story that seem to fulfill their promises to Frado passes away, James.

Casey's paper

Casey's paper focuses on the role of music and performance in The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man. She uses a number of ideas from Du Bois to help understand the narrator's actions and feelings. The narrator's struggle with being both black and white indicates the existence of a double conscious. Casey argues that the narrator attributes two aspects of his life- his music and his school- to the races he is trying to choose between. She uses two examples to illustrate Du Bois' idea of seeing oneself as others do. These include his experiences with his father and a duet with a girl.

I think it would be good to expand the idea of how he attributes his music and his school to being both black and white. I wonder if you could analyze the scene where the narrator sees his father with another family at the opera. Would this situation relate to your argument about musical performances? I would also explore the connection between race and performance to a greater level.

Dan's paper

In his paper Dan traces the ex-colored's man path to estrangement from society. He starts by looking at the difficulties the narrator faces with deciding which race he belong to. Using Simmel's arguments, Dan very convincingly proves that the ex-colored man is a stranger to both races. The next step in the alienation process is the narrator's journey to Europe where his estrangement becomes not just racial but national as well. He sees himself as an observer of the United States rather than a functional part of it. The last and absolute part of his estrangement is the denial of his past and the change of his name. He is no longer a stranger just to a race or a nation; he becomes a stranger to society.
Dan's paper raises the question about social alienation and how it arises. Simmel looks at the phenomenon of the stranger mostly from the perspective of the group and how the stranger is seen by them. I think Dan's paper does a great job of looking at the same phenomenon but from the stranger's perspective. Social alienation cannot occur without both society and the person playing a role, so to expand the paper, it would be interesting to look at how other people see the ex-colored man, and not just how he sees the world around him.

Andres' Paper

In short, Andres' paper explains why Bob Dylan is the quintessential "stranger." Specifically, in his Andres' paper, he discusses how Dylan's censored and abruptly represented tone in a book that tries to reveal his own feelings to a larger population is indicative of a stranger who is both near and far. Throughout his essay, Andres' seems to indicate how Dylan's description of his many strange idiosyncrasies means that he is treating the reader as someone who is "organically connected" to him. To strengthen his argument, Andres' mentions how Dylan seems to bypass many, many facts in his description of his own life; instead, Dylan opts for incredibly narrow and detailed account of particular moments in his life. Examples of such moments include Dylan's obsession with Woody Guthrie. To heighten that sense of strangeness or abstractness, Dylan after each description of that specific event seems to jump to another possibly completely different event.

If I were writing the paper, as a means of incorporating antithesis, I would talk about Dylan's ability through his songs to speak of the human condition and how this ability is a sign of Dylan's objectivity. On one hand, Dylan is able to create an intimate, sometimes highly confusing, novel. On the other hand, Dylan wrote songs that captured the hearts of a generation - songs that everyone seemed to relate to and impart their own opinions on. In my opinion which might be completely wrong, Dylan's own songs seem to describe those similarities that are recognized by the stranger. These differences are never recognized by any one population because they never travel or spend an extended amount of time in another distinct, unique region. Therefore, Dylan in a more poetic fashion than the other artists describes the common, "more general" similarities that linked all Americans. Evidence of such objectivity is the story Dylan creates when describing his trip up to New York. His story was one that constantly moving (on a train) - most likely with several stops on the way. In doing so, he stops in any one town enough to build an organic connection with them. In addition, his actual story implies the kind of objectivity that Simmel speaks of - A Minnesota Jew that sings American folks songs. Although Dylan's ability to speak in a convoluted fashion as well as speak to the common man are seemingly contradictory thoughts, both are indicative of the farness and nearness of "the stranger."

Katie Budolfson's Paper

Katie's paper uses Foucault's What is an Author? and Gertrude Stein's Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas to challenge the traditional conception of an author.  With Stein mocking the traditional autobiography and Foucault questioning the importance of who is actually speaking, the author is utterly destroyed.  Katie also brings up the subject of duality and demonstrates how Gertrude Stein uses it by influencing the narration with both her perspective and Alice's perspective, which again devalues the notion of sole authorship.  

Katie shows that What is an Author? conveys how Stein changes the definition of an autobiography by analyzing excellent quotes from both Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas and What is an Author?   Katie's quotes are short but very well connected and culminate in a concise, logical idea.  The content looks great; if I were to change anything it would be smoothing the transitions between paragraphs and adding an antithesis if a suitable argument can be made for one.

Katie Riera's Paper

Katie's paper synthesizes W.E.B. Du Bois' concept of double-consciousness in African-Americans with many of the literary dualities, most significantly the subjection the author faces indoors and outdoors, present in Harriet Wilson's Our Nig.  Katie sets forth a system of parallel dualities; the persecution Wilson endures indoors represents slavery, whereas her life outdoors represents the promise of freedom in America.  She first deals with relating the virtual enslavement Wilson is subjected to indoors to slavery at large, in the process commenting on dualities present in the text:  the split-level house, the split along family lines in terms of how to treat Wilson, the white house (and what that represents) and its sole black inhabitant.  She then discusses the ways in which Wilson's life outdoors parallels American freedom, including the way she has a very human relationship with her dog Fido and the general lack of punishment outdoors.  Katie also includes a discussion of how Wilson presents an exceptional case that transcends Du Bois' double-consciousness, because Wilson is not only African-American but also a woman, and thus faces all the additional discrimination that entails.

I felt the paper could be expanded by incorporating Du Bois's "double-consciousness" into the central argument to a greater degree.  At present, though Katie makes numerous compelling observations and arguments about the dualities present within the novel, she discusses Du Bois mainly in order to show how Wilson furthers the concept; I felt that incorporating the "double-consciousness" idea directly into the text's dualities reveals an important perspective that Katie has not yet explored.

Ross Green's Paper

Ross’s paper discusses the transformation from Bob Dylan’s mere recognition of , to his sharp disdain for, his identification with Georg Simmel’s “stranger.” The paper starts off explaining the characteristics that identify Dylan with Simmel’s “stranger”—the “inorganic appendage” that ties him to New York City, his potential for wandering, and his objectivity. It continues with describing how Dylan begins to identify himself with the “stranger,” or as Ross states, “Dylan’s recognition of his own role.” Dylan begins to understand the rift that separates himself from the folk music community and the places he travels; he will be a perpetual stranger to a place. However, Dylan expands where Simmel has not gone, as Ross discusses “the specific substance and transitivity of a sociological form.” Ultimately, Ross discusses how Dylan’s discomfort with this form and idea of the “stranger” causes him to reject it later in life, forming the antithesis of the paper. Ross concludes that Simmel’s “stranger” allows the reader to better understand Dylan, but Dylan also furthers Simmel’s “resilient” definition of the stranger.

In order to expand this paper, I would discuss how Dylan’s elaboration of Simmel’s “stranger” could be defined. Ross does a wonderful job of following and explaining the transformation to the climax and antithesis of Dylan's rejection. But when Simmel is no longer a resource, postulating exactly what Dylan specifically adds to the "stranger" definition in unchartered territory would allow for added synthesis; how exactly does Dylan further Simmel's "stranger."

Sara Widmark's Paper

Sara's paper is about Oscar Zeta Acosta and his path towards assimilation. She talks about Acosta's focus on his skin, how he stands in front of the mirror looking at himself, and especially how how he refers to himself as a Brown Buffalo. Sara explains Acosta's thoughts of not belonging by using Simmel's "The Stranger". She says that Simmel describes a stranger as sometimes being someone you know and feel close to, but cannot quite describe. Acosta's feelings about being Mexican and being American, but never both are a central focus in his book and in Sara's paper. She methodically includes quotes from Acosta and does not summarize their meaning, but explains what the quotes have to do with Acosta's assimilation and with Simmel's piece of work.

If I could expand the paper I would focus on the moments of self-reflection by Acosta, because those moments fit well with Simmel's idea of being a stranger to yourself. Acosta often remarks about not belonging and not fitting in with anyone, and Sara does a good job of pointing out those more public moments, but I think the personal moments would also be interesting.

Ralitsa Markova's Paper

In this paper, Ralitsa writes that Oscar Acosta becomes a stranger by moving around and absorbing a bit of every culture he visits. By synthesizing so much, no one label can very clearly define him. She begins by investigating the different names people call him, and later progresses to the more symbolic portrayals of his identity through food and the buffalo imagery. She integrates Simmel into her paragraphs very smoothly when she chooses to do so.

In order to expand on the paper, one could examine each label individually and what it indicates about Acosta. Furthermore, some quotations that exhibit the phenomina in the paper would be a great addition. Examining the language that the Acosta specifically uses will allow for a more thorough paper and strengthen the arguments considerably.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

identity in persepolis

Unlike other books we've read throughout the semester Persepolis focuses on the clash between beliefs, not race.  Satrapi brings her childhood perspective to life as she is shaped by war, politics, and loss.  Marji believes herself to be against the government because her parents are against the government.  Because Ramin's father was in the Savak (police of the Shah), Marji and her two friends ran at him with "nails between their fingers like American brass knuckles" (p.45).  Unfortunately, guilt by association was common in times of strife, not only during the Islamic Revolution but during the Holocaust as well.  People were identified by who they affiliated themselves with publicly.  However, the difference between public and private life could be everything or nothing.  Marji's family was relatively westernized (they did know what brass knuckles were) in the home with clothing, music, and alcohol, but outside they would follow most rules, women would cover themselves, etc.  

Unlike Ex-Colored Man or Mary Jemison, Marji is not caught between two separate identities, the forces in her life simply restrain or aid her in building her own, unique identity.  I think the cartoon/graphic aspect of the novel brings out even more of Marji's emotion and identity, while still leaving some to the reader's interpretation and imagination.  Who or what do you think had a significant influence on Marji's identity?

Sid Vicous, Punk, and Marji

Wobble, who was a close friend with Sid Vicious, said in an interview that they bonded because of their lively personalities, lower-class backgrounds, keen intelligence, and nose for trouble. They all loved music and getting drunk. More significantly, perhaps, they were outsiders.

"At school, Sid was an incorrigible attention-seeker and general nuisance [...]" said Wobble.

'"Today he's one of the chosen few who enjoy a symbolic relationship with his age: nihilistic, senseless, empty, vain, talentless, iconic. He's a gift for students of postmodern theory, who find his myriad identities, instant celebrity, self-inflicted wounds, and fascination with Nazis endlessly meaningful, but the man behind them elusive and one-dimensional."

Punk, to Marji, represents cultural freedom as well as a temporary sanctuary from the repressive environment in Iran, and lonelin
ess in Austria. Like Sid Vicious, Marji was an outsider in Europe, troublesome and rebellious at school, and struggled for her identity. Whenever she felt repressed, lonely, or confused, Marji turns to punk rock, but she never finds the solution.

The rebellious, nihilistic, and elusive nature of punk rock, exemplified by Vicious's life, entices troubled youths like Marji. Sadly, this liberation is only temporary.

Persepolis and Lost Culture

In the other books we have read, we have discussed how a person can feel like an "other" within the culture they live in. Usually, this sense of isolation is due to differences in ethnicities and race and the attempts made to assimulate to the mainstream culture. Though race is not as much of an issue in this text, there is still a sense of being an "other." Even in her own country, amidst her neighbors and the people she grew up with, Marjane and her family never accept the culture forced upon them by the government. Thus, while the women wear the veils and the father stops wearing western clothes, the notion that they are part of the new Iranian culture is only for appearances.
This idea of being an "other" is further evident in Marjane. In her adolescence, Marjane loves wearing the western punk clothes that she feels represents her identity. Yet, this is not accepted. Like the other protagonists we have read about, Marjane's true expressions of identity are repressed because they are not accepted by the dominant culture.

Through the eyes of a child

One of the most complicated aspects of writing is the ability of the author to portray his/her emotions and views on a particular moment or situation in a manner that will allow readers to understand the author without discrediting their presentation. When writing about sensitive topics, the author must also take into account the emotions of those involved, as well as how the readers may react to the material presented. Satrapi takes a risk by choosing to tell her story in a quite unconventional form - a graphic novel. Although quite unordinary, this decision allows Satrapi to tell her story in a way that would not be possible through the use of words alone. It is the stark presence of pictures and visuals that allows Satrapi to educate the audience on both her life and history through the eyes of a child.

One can claim that it is a child’s innocence that allows him or her to believe everything and to take everything for fact; what is seen and what is heard is truth. The use of black and white and the lack of lengthy text that is found in a graphic novel add to this factor. Not only through appearance alone is Satrapi telling her story through the eyes of a child, but also in the depth of what is written. Satrapi chooses to focus on what a child would find important and outstanding during those tragic times, such as her reactions to having to wear a veil. Although the story is presented with this “child-vision”, it is successful in the sense that this format enables the reader to more easily digest such troublesome material without even realizing it. Satrapi does not lie, she merely tells history the way she experienced it, and in a way that readers will allow themselves to understand her story through the unbiased, innocent eyes of a child.

Images

In the last few books we read race was one of the main issues. The difference in skin color was the main topic in Ex-Colored Man, Brown Buffalo, Our Nig. They all explored the connection between race, identity and perception. In Persepolis, because of the black and white images, all the people seem to have the same skin color. We don't get the concept of race directly from the author, only from the people surrounding her (when Marji said she was French and the other girls laughed at her because she didn't look French). The world Marji presents to us is surreal - all the differences in appearances she mentions are beard, moustache, clothes - things we can change and choose based on our personality. She doesn't draw images, she draws personalities. I find it somewhat starnge and fascinating that the only gaphic book we've read this semester is one of the least concerened with the way people look on the outside.

Thoughts So Far

Although I enjoy both the book and the movie, there seem to be noticeable differences between the book and the movie. For me, the defining difference has been the speed of movie to that of the book. While reading the book, I was able to look and analyze (most of the for about two seconds) the frames of each page. While doing so, I was able to appreciate the techniques Satrapi uses to better leverage her book: the use of black and white to expand on certain themes of the book, the use of picture to better reflect the dispositions/moods of the character, and her use of height/dimension to communicate particular messages within each scene.

With the movie, I find myself more preoccupied by the plot and the characters than by the art of Satrapi. Of the parts of the movie that I have seen so far, I feel like some of that subtlety has been lost. Instead, had I not read the book, I would wonder 'why make the movie in the form of a cartoon in the first place?' The most distinct of the animation has to be the use of black and white, but couldn't that dichotomy between white (good?) and (black?) have been recreated fairly easily (something along the lines of Sin City I guess)? Wouldn't the use of real characters create more empathy for Satrapi from the audience? Although I haven't finished the movie, so far, I would say that Persepolis definitely lends itself to the graphic novel as opposed to the movie.

To digress, at what point in this book am I supposed to sympathize with Satrapi? Certain aspects of her personality (the obsession with becoming God and finding a "hero") was really offputting, and her life as opposed to the lives of others around her, has seemed to greatly benefit from luck.

An Image I Particularly Liked

I could not figure out a good way to post this, so please bear with me.

p. 91
The bottom left hand panel.

This is really interesting, because up until this frame you see no more than the stars, and then in this frame alone to the stars and stripes appear together. It's an interesting image in that implies American influence, even American presence, but it lacks any substantial role. In addition, the blankets are put together in such a way that it looks a bit like the flag is being ripped...or that Satrapi is pulling them back together. The flag could be seen as being disrespected (children standing on it), or as holding the highest honor (sheltering children). In short, it is a powerful image that is up for interpretation.

Any thoughts? I am all out.

Forced Transition

Late adolescent years are part of an important liminal stage in life between youth and adult. Varying factors affect the timing of this transition, including war. Instead of playing outside and hearing bedtime fantasy stories, Marjane's childhood is filled with tragic images of war and bedtime war stories. She spends her free time talking about the war and must keep her identity hidden under a veil. On page 117, Marjane declares "With this first cigarette, I kissed childhood goodbye." While this instant symbolizes her intended break from childhood, Marjane was forced at an early age to give up her youth. For the young men in this book, the forced transition is clearer as they are expected to go to war before they are technically "men".
This could explain Marji's identification with an older crowd when she arrives in Vienna. She struggles to find herself when she has missed an important stage of her life. She retreats back to her childhood home, and hopefully, she will be able to find herself amongst the familiar surroundings.

The Iranian Revolution to the Present

Perhaps the most tragic impression I have from the book is that conditions in Iran have improved only marginally since the time period of the novel (1979-1984).  Tthe country is still governed by the Shari'ah law that the revolution was founded on; the veil, among other things, is still required, dissent is still repressed.  Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the Iranian president, insists on a nuclear program and the dissolution of Israel, as well as all the fundamentalist policies currently in place.

The story of Marjane Satrapi is tragic in part because the growth of Satrapi herself is paralleled by the growth of a truly independent Iranian state.  However, what becomes clear in retrospect is that while Satrapi has developed a great deal, her homeland has not.  And the Islamic fundamentalist regime looks to remain in power well into the foreseeable future.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Not your typical Sunday morning cartoon

Satrapi’s commentary on Iran’s revolutions and wars through the means of a cartoon is an interesting, but rather unnerving, mix. The cartoon form immediately makes you think of Sunday morning cartoons in the paper and lighthearted, funny skits. These feel-good thoughts, however, are not those invoked by Satrapi’s cartoons. It took me by surprise the intensity of such descriptions of tortures, deaths, and rapes that could be relayed by a cartoon. Satrapi is not overly graphic, but graphic enough; she narrates in the voice of a child listening to her parents and repeating what they say. Her childhood innocence and corresponding blunt descriptions in cartoon form leave the reader with an eerie, unsettled feeling. This mixing of childhood innocence with the horror of life in Iran at the time has a greater impact than just words alone written by an adult. We have become desensitized to news reports concerning violence in the Middle East, but the voice and pictures of a child-like narrator demand attention and open our eyes to a different emotional side of the conflict. I am a very visual person, and while the pictures were not gory or overly graphic, they gave me enough of a visual to make the situation feel real.

The section at the end of the novel on pages 145-46 concerning the fate and virginity of the young, 18-year old revolutionary thoroughly disturbed me. To be honest, Acosta was gross but didn’t bother me; this segment actually made me feel sick to my stomach. And all from a “cartoon”?

It would be remiss not to mention the moments of humanity revealed through the cartoon that Marjane has with her family. It is obvious the love her family has for each other, and their ability to still live and laugh despite everything else going on. However, this is, for example, juxtaposed immediately to a scene of bombing and seeing her friend's arm lying out of the wreckage. What do you guys think about this mix of child-like cartoons with very adult issues? Am I the only one who found it rather unsettling?

Monday, November 17, 2008

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Acosta and Franklin

We already talked about this in class a couple of weeks ago but I think the contrast between Acosta and Franklin is worth mentioning again. As I finished the book, I found it interesting that both Franklin and Acosta were searching for their identity but in completely different ways. Franklin knew who he wanted to be and tried to impose this ideal on himself. His search was systematic and involved ignoring his bodily needs. Acosta, on the other hand, was just wandering around the country trying to find others like him. His body was the leading mechanism in his search. Franklin was leading a nation that was unified and organized as his own life. Acosta was in the bottom of a nation of different, mixed and conflicting mass of people just as the food he consumed. Franklin's autobiography was like a manual on how to liveour lives and achieve the American Dream. Acosta's autobiography was still a manual on how to achieve the American Dream but it presented a life few people would choose to live. So I was wondering - why such a huge difference? Is it because they lived in different times, or because of the difference in their social status? I think they both saw the same but decided to present it differently. Franklin wrote his 'manual' on how to be accomplished because this is what purpose he thought an autobiography should serve. Acosta wrote about what happens if Franklin's methods fail. In the end he still felt accomplished and found his identity. So I almost see the two books serving the same purpose - finding our identity and our place in society, but one is the extension of the other.

Acosta's Moment of Clarity

I wanted to jump off of what Virginia discussed about Acosta’ identity. He talk about how his life’s “single mistake has been to seek an identity with any one person or nation and with any part of history” (199). These three identities—individual, country and history—are symbolic of Acosta’s pervading struggles throughout the novel.

Individually, Acosta is insecure and stalling in life. Physically, he is a fat brown man with health problems in a skinny, white world where the prejudices are obviously stacked up against him. Internally, his quest to find out who he really is has left him restless. Acosta states how “I can make any kind of face you ask. After all, I’ve been a football player, a drunk, a preacher, a mathematician, a musician, a lawyer… and a brown buffalo” (197). His insecurities (and the vanities that accompany them) have accompanied his jumping around from job to job in life with no real purpose. Culturally, Acosta is a man split between his Mexican and American heritage. While born American, he has always been on the outside as a “wetback” or “spic.” He is “neither a Mexican or an American. I am neither a Catholic or a Protestant. I am a Chicano by ancestry and a brown buffalo by choice” (199). Instead, he classifies everyone else into their ethnicities to disassociate himself from them to attempt to find pinpoint his own identity. Historically, Acosta’s discontent with his cultural (mis)identity was resonating with other Mexican-Americans. He had tried to fit in with different jobs, by turning to drugs, and by taking a road trip to get away, but the times had not changed. While he could relate to Dylan’s music, Acosta is frustrated with the era in which he lives.

The exact moment when all of Acosta’s internal struggles collide and intertwine is the sole moment of clarity (and arguably, the climax) in the novel. By actively taking control of the Chicano revolution in L.A., Acosta finds the life-long answer to his multi-faceted identity problem. For him, it is as if a “bomb explodes in my head. Flashes of lightening. Stars in my eyes. I see it all before me” (196). He alludes to the future and to an inspiration for changing the times. His ultimate decision of identification of a brown buffalo finds a balance between his internal individual, cultural, and time crises. By fully endorsing and accepting the brown buffalo and the movement it symbolizes, Acosta finally finds himself. For the first time in the entire novel, he is not longer listless, but afire with purpose.

He's the Man

The opening lines in chapter nine struck me as being exceptionally rattling in comparison to the rest of the autobiography, despite the fact that throughout the entirety of the book Acosta constantly refers to the grotesque and scatological aspects of his life. The incredulous and unsettling fact that Acosta felt himself to be an adult at the early age of fourteen shows the reader that he certainly does believe himself to be a “Brown Buffalo”, in fact Acosta seems to be proud of this fact. Acosta seems to understand the connotations behind the label, and he also needs to the reader to understand the fact that he is a victim of American society and culture; Acosta is a victim of display, his being is placed behind a glass case for the rest of society to look down upon.
At the same time one has to realize the fact that Acosta has been exposed to what people in our society would label as a “bad” childhood filled with resentment and loneliness that consequently led to his exposure to alcohol and everything that “makes a man a man”.
The reader realizes the fact that at an early age Acosta’s emotions had been forced to become numb; his mother hits him until she finally breaks down and cries while Acosta simply looks at her smiling. As I was reading I actually could not believe the words, and pictured an extremely eerie and creepy scene involving Acosta and his mother.
I think it is important that it is in fact the patriarchal influence in his young life that pushes Acosta to become a man at such an early age. His father’s inability to guide him through life, as well as his inability to serve as a respectable figure shown through Acosta’s life as an actual adult. On a smaller note, I found it very interesting to learn about how even Acosta’s football coach taught him how to be cruel and unfair onto others. Everything in Acosta’s youth led to his uncaring and disgusting lifestyle in his adulthood.

An Interesting Article

So a couple weeks ago, I found an interesting article on the Atlantic posted here: http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200811/multiple-personalities/3. Based purely on the title, I thought that the article would be vindication of Dylan's use of multiple selves in both I'm Not There and Chronicles.

However, the more I read of the article, the more is realized that the article was about Acosta. While reading the book, I have had trouble reconciling the character in the book with the information I had know about Acosta in real life. One on hand, here is a man that a famous civil rights lawyer for the rising Mexican movement with the U.S. On the other hand, here is a man who binges drinks, does drugs, and has sex with prostitutes on an incredibly dangerous basis. Based on the article, these two personalities are not only constructs but two individuals inhabiting the same body. Throughout the book, the side of Acosta that gives in to short term impulses has simple superceded all of his other selves. Then, as soon as the side of him finds a cause that seems to be greater than himself and worth fighting for,the "moral" side of Acosta seems to come to the forefront.

Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues

"When you're lost in the rain in Juarez/ And it's Easter time too/ When your negativity fails and gravity won't pull you through/ Don't put on any airs when you're down on Rue Morgue Avenue/ They got some hungry women there/ And they'll really make a mess out of you."

That's the first verse to a Bob Dylan song called "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues."  I thought it was particularly appropriate, given Acosta's references to Dylan, and his appreciation of Dylan, throughout the book.  That he ends up in the same situation (or at least a similar one) as Dylan's protagonist in the song warns of, I think, is highly ironic.  It actually makes me doubt the validity of Acosta's fervent claim that "the fucking book is true."  It seems as though his time in Juarez could be apocryphal; simply a representation of Acosta on his last legs, before finding a measure of salvation in the Brown Power movement.
Thoughts?

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Comment on the End

In class, we have spent time analyzing the significance in the fact that Acosta calls himself "the brown buffalo." I was surprised that Acosta addressed the issue so directly in the final paragraphs of the book. It becomes clear that like the buffalo, Acosta is "the animal everyone slaughtered" (198) and "both the cowboys and the Indians are out to get him" (198).
The idea that he uses the buffalo to symbolize predation was not surprising; however, the fact that he indicates both the "cowboys" and "the Indians" are responsible was interesting. In this moment, he addresses the idea that it was not just mainstream white culture that rejected him, but also his Mexican/Indian heritage. Like Mary Jemison and others we have read about, Acosta is somewhere in between two cultures and unfortunately is not able to entirely fit into either one. His identity is "neither a Mexican nor an American...neither a catholic nor a protestant" (199). His ties to both cultures, yet neither one in particular, is ultimately what tears him apart.
It makes me wonder then who he is calling out to when he says that "brown buffalos must ban together" (199). Is he calling only for Mexican-Americans, considering that he seems against labeling himself that way? Or is he calling out to anyone who feels they have been cheated out of their identity?

How brown are we?

Now I'd better confess that I sympathize with Acosta quite a lot. Annoyingly insecure, a bit too aware of body image, trying (and often failing) to assimilate, indecisive (especially career-wise), brown (or rather, yellow-brown), compulsive thoughts (and sometimes actions), and sturdier-than-average build. (I do not throw up though, no worries.)

In class, we talk much about how Brown Buffalo is pathetic and disgusting. From these traits we make connections to contemporary American culture and think about how he embodies the unrepresented part of America. But I just want to point out that, since we're all Americans, each of us is more or less a brown buffalo as well. The book is disgusting not because we hate what Acosta says and does, but because we see parts of ourselves that we do not want to see...?

I just thought that Acosta would appreciate it if we not only expand what we get from the book into a wider social/cultural view, but also look into ourselves as an individual and see things in us that we normally avoid recognizing.

Under the Sea

If I were a buffalo, I would probably be seen most commonly roaming the plains of North America, contently munching on a bit of grass. However, The Brown Buffalo is much different from the average buffalo, never being content even after pounds of sugar and fat. However, there is another thing that seems to be untouchable to Oscar, and that is the sea: buffalo can't swim, and he seems to lack a lot of contact with the sea himself. Regardless, it seems to be the source of power in his book, and it seems to be set apart as another unattainable blessing.

Acosta's father served in the military, and thus necessarily went overseas (106). He squanders his GI loans on a bar, and thus wastes what he gained from his association with the sea (106). Similarly, Ted Casey is a seaman who gets rich dealing drugs. Even Trader JJ's has associations with the sea. Yet somehow, when Acosta goes into the airforce, he manages to return to very little with very little to show for his work. In short, he gets very little of the ever promising sea.

In short, the sea is a mirage of unattainable potential for a grounded buffalo.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Acosta On The Run

Chapter 10 of Acosta's "The Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo" starts with "I'm still on the run" (121). This idea invokes the image of the buffalo, but it is important to figure out what he is running from and to. We see when Acosta began to disassociate himself with other hispanics when he was elected as Jr. Class President and "had forgotten about being a brown buffalo". The various careers he tries can all be identified with American culture, especially the Air Force and being a lawyer. His attempt at being a lawyer is his final attempt to integrate into the American way of life, but he feels ill-suited for the job. The blood in Acosta's vomit could signify the crisis point where Acosta must decide whether to continue to assimilate (and potentially get worse) or reject the American way and find a personal link to his ancestry. Acosta is running from the American institution and trying to find his place as a Mexican by returning West.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

The first of July, 1967

"My face falls into my glass, the iceberg freezes my nose. I am numb. In a trance, a stupor. Passed out. Death is welcome after the events of this day, the first of July, 1967" (70). Chapter five revels in the ridiculousness and perverseness of Acosta's language; it seems as if Acosta's tone becomes even more disgusting, yet straightforward as the autobiography progresses. Even though Acosta's recollection of the night is blurry and misconceiving, the reader picks up on an extremley vile and demeaning annotation of the events that occured on this day. One can form a clear picture of the events that take place on that night due to the "real" and "uncaring" use of Acosta's language. He describes the cocaine, sex, and fights without haste and enables the reader to formulate a vivid conception on his life. Acosta is extremely straightforward, especially when it comes to making judgements on people. At one point in the chapter, Acosta claims, "I have already noticed the short distance between his right and left eyes. It is my secret way of detecting fags" (68). Acosta is not afraid to give his honest opinion on the people in his life; he deems it necessary for people to know the real "buffalo" and the perceptions he carries about the "real" people in his life. It is also interesting to note the part of the chapter in which Acosta questions to himself "who are these strange people, those foreigners that don't understand me?" (67). He reverses the role he plays in his autobiography, and lets the reader know that just as others think of him as an alien, he too feels as if everyone around him in not normal.
Another point in this chapter which interested me was the vividity and honesty behind his sexual desires and encounters? Could it be that Acosta is unsure of himself in this department or that he feels insecure?

Acosta and Stein

This may be a little bit of a stretch, but certain aspects of TAOABB strongly remind me of Gertrude Stein. Superficially, the two do not share the same grammatical structure, culture of the author, or same relationship between the “autobiographical I” and narrator (among other things). However, the novel’s focus on the everyday highly resembles Stein. Stein bored us with the day-to-day accounts of her life; Acosta also enlightens us with the daily workings of his life, such as his driving, work, and bodily functions. Acosta, though, expands upon Stein’s approach as he shocks us with the extreme and too-much-information with the grotesque descriptions of his body. However, while it may repulse it, it also makes Acosta more real. He is a real person with faults, farts and fantasies; he does not ever try to climb onto the pedestal that Franklin created for himself. Secondly, Acosta name drops a decent amount. While it is not to the extent of Stein, the naming dropping—combined with his repulsiveness and jumping off of his fatness that Rali talks about——functions to further disassociate him from society. How, if any, does this comparison change the way we read the novel and view Acosta?

Another interesting side note is how the voice of Acosta's shrink, Dr. Serbin, in his head is a major supporting character in the story. But, can he actually be considered a character if he really functions as a way for Acosta to analyze, and discuss his situations in his own head?

Acosta - a brown buffalo?

Throughout the book the author classifies people based on their race, sexual orientation and nationality, making those things seem the most important features of a person. He even classifies himself right from the title - Brown Buffalo. He is big and brown and that is all we need to know about him. On page 86 he explains the reason for naming people: "The name was not meant as an insult. It was simply a means of classification... Everyone in the valley considers skin color to be of ultimate importance. The tone of one's pigmentation is the fastest and surest way of determining exactly who he is." The irony of those words is that they are right after he describes the difficulty others have with classifying him. Some considered him Mexican, others - easterner and so on. The only thing that was true for all those "classifications" was that nobody classified him as the same as themselves. The Mexicans thought he was easterner, the easterners - that he was Mexican. It seems that they were naming him not to classify him for who he is but rather for what they don't want to be. Acosta seems to be doing the same thing - he only names people with names that don't refer to himself - fag, jew, etc. So what I was wondering is whether by naming himself a brown buffalo he is not just disassociating himself from brown fat people?

America As A Symbol

In our last class, we discussed the idea of Acosta's inner self manifesting to plague his outer self. Because Acosta's mind is in chaos, the life he lives must also be indicative of this same chaos. However, taking a closer look at the more tangible aspects of Acosta's life, it is possible that food may be a symbol for America or those naive, untrue ideals of Acosta's life that he simply cannot accept.

The food that Acosta eats while living in America is on one hand tastes "good" and cheap both characteristics that satisfy Acosta's short term goals. However, in the long run, this same food is damaging Acosta's stomach, and Acosta is complicit in self-destruction by continuing to eat this food. In many ways, this self-destructive cycle is in many ways indicative of the American dream. For many foreigners, the American dream at first glance is the ideal opportunity: to live in a country where your pay is simply is based on merit. However, once many immigrants arrive within America, they find their dreams shattered, and due to the costs of arriving in America, they are unable to move out. And in the end, Acosta's vomiting represents his own inability to accept these American ideals.

Acosta's Childhood

I think that is is amazingly telling that Acosta's father was in the Navy. Essentially being an illegal alien, he pledged his allegiance to this country, one that has not particularly pledged their allegiance back. Oscar and his brother woke up daily to the Star Spangled Banner but now Oscar doesn't feel as though he belongs in the country at all. He is constantly asked what nationality he is but no one suspects Mexican American, unless they are referring to him in a derogatory tone. Acosta's writing portrays an unhappiness with who he is in drastic overstatements, and brutal honesty. For someone who at one time had patriotism engrained in his daily routine, it seems that Oscar has made an abrupt about-face. 

Drugs and the Buffalo

Acosta seems to have a bit of a preoccupation with controlled substances; like most things in his life, he seems to overdo them until they really cripple him. Despite their very physical consequences, Acosta seems to suggest that they might have more to do with symbolism than can be seen at first glance.

First, of course, one of his friends is name Maryjane, which most people know is a street name for marijuana. He also converts to being a fan of Dylan's shortly after first using marijuana.

Drugs take on a more significant role after he tries LSD, and subsequently consumes spiked champagne from Ted Casey, who becomes Owl after Acosta suffers from many grim hallucinations. The drugs' significance arises from the similarity between the descriptions of Acosta's drugged life and his clean life. Particularly of interest are the colors of the restaurant at the beginning of Ch. 5: "I tip-toe into another world of fat-red carpets, violet tablecloths, dazzling chandeliers, white camellias, red roses and purple spidermums" (60). He uses outlandish colors and bright language to communicate the visual sensuality of his environment. He could either be viewing the luxury world as an imaginary acid trip for the average man, or he is insinuating that the Owl is a fraud in the way he behaves expecting the high-life. Either way, Acosta is noting that his the new life he's trying to form is very disillusioning!

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The Colors of a Brown Buffalo

Acosta's use of language, style and imagery in his autobiography is most often blatantly grotesque and in your face, making the book at times difficult and uncomfortable to read. Yet, amidst the majority of Acosta's dominant language, I started noticing a more subtle use of imagery in the descriptions of color. Regularly throughout the text, Acosta describes things as being either red or green At first, the recurrence of such colors are easy to dismiss; however, the fact that they are so frequently repeated indicates an underlying significance.
We are first introduced to these colors on the first page. In his second sentence Acosta describes his "redden" ears and "green bile" (12). After this point, these colors appear more frequently than others. For example, we hear about his "green plymouth(16)," "green-walled toilet(25)," and the "green hair" he imagines while on drugs (39). Additionally, Acosta describes' "red ink (14)," "red velvet drapes (24)," and "red carpets (41)." Obviously, these descriptions area few among many, but they nonetheless raise the question about why Acosta chooses to describe objects in these colors and/orwhy he notices these colors above other? What
is their significance?
Considering that these colors appear in his autobiography, it reasons to follow that these are used to express some aspect of himself and his personality to the reader. For instance, "green" is generally associated with greed and selfishness. We discussed in class the ways in which Acosta comes off as selfish, self-serving, and vain. His obsession with himself, his body, and his situation is what leads the reader to gain an impression that he does in fact possess such undesirable attributes. Yet this is something that Acosta also recognizes. He admits that he didn't decide to be a lawyer in order to help people; it was more for the meager amount of money he made. Thus, the recurrence of green imagery serves to further support this aspect of his personality to the reader.
Furthermore, the use of red imagery can signifiy anger. This is a trait that can certainly suit Acosta, as is evident by his use of harsh language, cursing and in the way he talks about himself. Yet in addition to anger, I think red could also be an indication of his mania. Like a bull driven wild at the sight of red, Acosta is living an untamed and manic life. He is impulsive (which we see when he throws out his degree) and uncontrolled (evident in his drug use and lack of will to control his health.) The flashes of red imagery that appear in the text, which may startle or suddenly catch the reader's eye, provide him/her with a sense of what this manic life is like--one that is unpredictable and loud.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Acosta- powerful or weak?

I chose not to read the introduction to Johnson's "The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man" and missed an important detail to the book- that it is not, in fact, an autobiography. So I chose to read the introduction to Acosta's "The Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo", which gave me a strong impression of Acosta's character before reading his autobiography. I expected a strong, powerful individual- a "dangerous thug" who was involved with the "politics of confrontation" as "the main spokesman for a mushrooming 'Brown Power' movement" (5-6). We saw in Franklin's autobiography an example of how the author has the ability to only highlight certain aspects of his or her life. Franklin chose to show mainly the positive aspects of his personality. Acosta does not speak of himself as Thompson does; instead, Acosta portrays his negative self-image through the early incidents in his autobiography. Acosta begins with criticisms of his physical appearance and makes his way to the toilet where he tries to puke. Acosta's references to disgusting behaviors such as "a belch of brown water" (13) intimate his inner feelings toward his own skin color, as he describes himself a "brown buffalo". Acosta's silence appears odd after reading that he was a great spokesman. Acosta talks about his aversion to certain cases that would involve a second party lawyer to argue. I would classify this behavior as aversion of confrontation, so how does this same person become so involved with the "politics of confrontation"? I wonder if he undergoes some kind of transformation during some point in the book or if he had somewhat of a dual identity of personal and political.

Oscar Zeta Acosta

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Vast Veil

W.E.B Du Bois casts a literary veil over his words in order to promote the congruency between the topic and his style of writing. Du Bois compels the reader with such phrases as, "he would not bleach his soul in a flood of white Americanism" (5); Du Bois clearly feels some form of prejudice towards the white Americans. When I read "Of Our Spiritual Strivings" the image of a new being becoming revealed from under a veil constantly raced through my head. Du Bois brings up the fact that the role of the black man during that time (in America)was to integrate two identities at the same time: one who is seen through the eyes of everyone else and the other who is created through their own "Africanism". Du Bois clearly does not want to seem completely opposed to the white culture in America; instead, he wants to make it known that African-Americans merely want to be able to have their own identity, whilst keeping "white-american" culture ever-present. At the same time, in order to bring about this new identity in which the black man bring out his/her own better and truer soul, one must be able to promote the education of that man. I found that the most interesting revelation in Du Bois' essay was the mentioning of the Negro as being the "seventh son"; it is almost too direct and straightforward to mention, but Du Boise clearly understands that African-Americans themselves realize that they are being watched at all times: for being different. I thought Du Boise's account was incredibly upfront and without regret. Du Boise's character and personal creedence shines throughout the entire essay. At the same time Du Boise understands that freedom may never be achieved. Does anyone else get this pessimistic approach out of his work?

Johnson's Tendencies

As the novel progresses, and Johnson begins to deal more openly with the so-called "Negro Question," he has a distinct tendency:  he introduces characters as plot devices, characters who exist only to give some series of monologues enunciating their position.  It's similar, in a way, to Philip Roth, whose characters often do the same thing.  I find it a little more ham-handed in Johnson's case, though, because the characters themselves often have no real role to play in the story; they exist only as a vessel from which their particular position on the "Negro Question" is espoused.  On the one hand, I can't blame Johnson; his way is decidedly more eloquent and concise, in terms of language, than it would if he made more of an effort to integrate the sentiments he wishes to bring to life into the story of the narrator's life.  But the technique seems to violate one of those immutable laws of writing: show, don't tell.

anonymity

Anonymity is a recurring theme throughout the "autobiography."  To start, James Weldon Johnson published The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man anonymously.  Neither the publishers nor the readers knew who wrote it or exactly who the book was about.  After all, the title only describes an "Ex-Colored Man," making the main character extremely vague.  The so-called autobiography could have been fiction or nonfiction (although we now know that it is indeed fiction).  

A second form of anonymity manifests itself through the recognition of people by their appearance.  Not once is a person's name mentioned throughout the book.  Most references to people are through their occupation, looks, or clothes.  The main character names the big kid in class "Red Head" because he first sees his "face full of freckles and a head full of very red hair" (p.7).  "Shiny" comes to be because the main character notices his "sparkling eyes" and "glistening white teeth."  His father is remembered because "his shoes or boots were always shiny, and he wore a gold chain and a great gold watch" (p.9).  The people the main character meets on his journey south are fittingly called "the conductor," "the landlady," "my new friend," etc.  Why does the narrator dance around giving people real names, real identities?  Is he saying that the message in the novel is more important than its characters?  If he actually did give exact names and places would the events seem isolated and circumstantial, detracting from the themes the author is trying to get across?


Lessons in Music and in Social Nomrs

Like other people who wrote about music, I also feel that it is one of the central ideas in the book. The narrator had natural musical skills which his mother decided to enhance by arranging for him to take lessons. Later in the book, when he goes to the "Club" for the first time and hears ragtime music, he mentions that the player hadn't had any lessons and was a natural musician, just as he used to be. He wonders what would have happened to the player had he been trained and comes to the conclusion that he would never had accomplished anything great. You need to be "unpolished" and free to be a great musician. That reminded me of the narrator, as a child, how he was "trained" to feel black and to see himself as different from white people. He could never again be free because he has accepted the norms of society just as most musicians accept the right way to play music. That made me think how we are only true to ourselves if we haven't been taught how to be what other people expect us to be. Which brings me back to something the narrator said about his music before he started taking lessons: "I remember that I had a particular fondness for the black keys." I thought this was interesting because at this point he didn't know he was black, and he had an attraction to the color. The "I remember" part makes it sound like a distant nostalgic memory of the time when he still hadn't realized the negativity associated with that color, the time when he was free to enjoy life and the variety it offers without worrying about artificial labels put by society.

More on Music

Stemming from Casey's post, I would like to add another layer and perhaps another perspective on what music represents to Johnson. Obviously, music has been the one consistency in Johnson's hectic life; he is able to play, teach or listen to music everywhere he goes. It is one aspect that he can carry with him whether he is "passing" as white in white society or accepting his black heritage in the south. The fact that music is so consistent and adaptable for Johnson demonstrates that it acts as the bridge between his black and white sides. When he is playing music, he does not have to choose between his races. As he stated while he was listening to ragtime, "One thing cannot be denied; it is music which possesses at least one strong element of greatness; it appeals universally" (73).
Perhaps this is the reason Johnson prefers to play music without much structure. He admits he was not a very good accompanist because his "ideas of interpretation were always too strongly individual" (19). Instead of basing his talent on "brilliancy of technique" he prefers to interpret music on his own and admits that he "always played with feeling" (18). The idea that music should be unstructured (in Johnson's eyes) further enhances the notion that music is universal. By refusing to accept the rigid form of music theory, Johnson uphold the flexibility of his art and the fact that he has the right to portray the music piece as he sees fit. Furthermore, this idea of music illustrates important aspects of race through Johnson's eyes. For him, race is equally as fluid. One moment, he can seem white; the next, he is black. However, these distinctions of are only made if one chooses to make them. One could just as easily see all colors as variations of the human race. Thus, much like music can be highly structured if it is desired, distinctions of race can also be closely drawn. However, similar to how Johnson believes that ultimately it is the person who interpret music as they wish, it is also ultimately the person who makes distinctions on race.

Red

Throughout the book, Johnson repeatedly uses colors to describe various people at various levels. The color "Red" in particular is used, and thus far it appears that he is using it as a symbol of all that is bad in the white world.

First, of course, there is Red the Irish child in his class. He's a little dim, and exhibits the then-stereotype of Irish corruption and greed in becoming a banker through family connections; it sounds like he is part of a mob family, in all honesty. In short, he uses red to characterize a certain kind of corruption (one in which he partakes, for a while).

Then, when our hero goes to Atlanta, he says it's, "...a big, dull, red town" (37). Again: "This dull red color of that part of the South I was then seeing had much, I think, to do with the extreme depression of my spirits-" (37). Johnson gives the narrator a negative connotation with the red color of the dirt (mentioned on p. 38), which is entirely foundational to the city, both literally and metaphorically. It is not coincidence that this is where he falls victim to dishonesty. Clearly red is a warning sign to Johnson.

Racism - Applicable to Both Society and Johnson?

As I read more of the book, one of the more striking aspects of the book is not necessarily the racism exhibited by the American people but the racism of the main character.

Throughout the book, although the main character is half-black, he seems to look down upon those African-Americans around him. When referring to the widow's black companion, he calls a "surly, black despot." When referring to his first encounter with Atlanta, he says, "the unkempt appearance, the shambling, slouching gait, and loud talk and laughter of these people aroused in me almost a feeling of repulsion." These kinds of moments seem pop up throughout the book, but I'm not quite sure how to interpret these moments.

Is this a hidden racism that belies his views - views that seem to echo those of W.E.B. Dubois? Is the subtle racism that the main character exhibits inevitable for the time that he lives in or to be expected considering his privileged upbringing?

If the main character is a subtle racist, does that mean his views about the state of the African-American's struggle for equality become delegitimized? I am concerned about what seems to be Johnson's racism; however, I am still reluctant to discard his views as the product of privilege and derived from an ability to look down on those who are less gifted than him.

Music and Books

Within "The Autobiography of an Ex- Colored Man" the author notes that his life was split between music and books. With his music, he practiced at home on a piano that was sent to him by his white father. During his performances to white audiences he received standing ovations, calls for encores, and was appreciated for his talent. When his father first comes to visit him and his mother, she calls on him to perform. She wants to show the man who fathered her child that she's dong a good job raising him, and that he was talented at something.

Books are a much more personal and private aspect of his life. He read in his home, and in his library. What he read in books allowed him to talk to his mother about being Black and gave him courage to ask the questions he couldn't ask anyone else. His heroes changed based on the books he read, and the books he read gave him the idea that he could be an exceptional Black person. 

These two aspects of his life correlate to the two races he identifies with, and how he acts with each one. The pianist side of him corresponds with the white half of him in that it is public, it is something that he wants to show others. Playing the piano is something he identifies with in front of others, and at times in the book the main character tries to identify with the white people in the book. His more secretive reading corresponds with the black side of him, in that he is empowered to change, but does so with his mother, and not in public. He watches Shiny give a speech in front of white people and feels excited about it, but still questions why they clapped for a black person. 

The two sides of his life don't necessarily conflict in public as they do in the thoughts of the main character. His inner warring or contemplation of his race and who he should identify with is a main focus of the book.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Racial identity

The scene at the end of chapter one and its implications, while early in the novel, is nonetheless a major turning point in Johnson’s life and the story. Johnson first realizes that he was colored on that pivotal day at school. He states that “From that time I looked out through other eyes, my thoughts were colored, my words dictated, my actions limited by one dominating, all-pervading idea which constantly increased in force and weight until I finally realized in it a great, tangible fact” (14). Johnson imposes a self-isolation when he realizes he is part black. It is interesting that, while he is not for the most part treated differently by his friends or classmates, he nonetheless begins to identify with black culture.

This scene is very similar to the pivotal naming scene in Our Nig. Jack classifies Frado, who was fair skinned mulatta, definitively as a black individual when he refers to her as “Our Nig.” Likewise, in The Autobiography of an Ex-colored Man, it is the school teacher, not the similarly fair skinned Johnson, who performatively names him as colored. It is ironic that it is a white individual each time that classifies the characters, once and for all alienating them from white society. These moments for the characters pivotally change their lives and change the way others, and they themselves, see themselves. Had this seen not occurred so early and Johnson found out later in life about his heritage, would the story have possibly been along the lines of The Autobiography of an Ex-white Man? I think this event early in Johnson’s life allowed him to fully immerse himself in black culture, and grow into the proud character he is in the story (well, thus far up to chapter V). What do you think about this “naming” scene, and the further implications it has on Johnson’s life? And what does this say on a deeper level about the institution and idea of race? Is race a societal invention or a natural characteristic? Is race more about inherent color, culture, self-identification or a combination of several?

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Pity and Love

"Pity and love know little severance. One attends the other" (8).
Somebody once said that the border between pity and love is as thick as a sheet of paper. Despite her ill reputation about her past relationships, Jim decides to marry Mag Smith because he pitied her so much. Their daughter Frado experiences such pity close to love by a number of people, especially Jack. The author clearly states that Jack pitied her so dearly: "How Jack pitied her!" (21) Throughout the book, Jack protects and stands for Frado almost as if he is in love with her. When Frado escaped from Mrs. B, Jack says "'I shan't eat my supper till I find her" (27). Although he seems to love his mother, he never hesitates to confront her whenever she abuses Frado.

Is this strong feelings of Jack simply pity? Or is it love confused with pity?Or is it merely another form of control, just as harmful as how Mrs. B treats her?

Devils?

As I read “Our Nig” in its entirety it became more and more obvious to me that Harriet Wilson’s attitude towards writing the novel was directed at trying to force the reader to understand the obvious and ever-present racist sentiment that presumably all the characters have (even the black personages). At one point Mag snarls, “Who’ll take the black devils” (11); the fact that Mag is the mother of those ‘devils’ entails that she carries a serious racist perspective on society. Mag seems to hate herself for having done what she has done (Marrying Jim); she hates herself for having put herself that low. Harriet reveals the fact that her mother Mag has lived as an outcast for years. At the part where Jim proposes to Mag even he claims that a white heart in black skin is better than the opposite. At this point in history it has become customary or even inevitable to associate blackness with evil/ the devil. One has to ponder if Harriet is truly hurt by what she is writing, or if she is simply used to the fact and has decided to write about it for the sake of writing?

Nagging Nig

Using our discussion as a jumping off point, I began to read Ch. 8 with a "Nig vs. Frado" perspective in mind. Not only does Wilson use Nig when she is being discriminated against, but she uses it whenever she follows a rule. Aunt Abbey says, "Well, well, Frado..." and not a paragraph later, it states, "Nig went as she was told..." (81). Even when she obeys those that are not racist towards her, she is noted as Nig over Frado. In reference to her search for her soul, Wilson writes, "Nig was in truth suffering much..." (86). Though society indicates that a darker skin lacks a "white" soul, Wilson shows it only as a device of her overlords, and that Frado can pursue the Bible with freedom and knowledge of her spiritual self. The Nig-Frado duality runs very deep into the book, and I am anxious to see how deep it goes.

Colors

Colors obviously play a major role in people's perception of Frado. She is treated as a slave just because of the color of her skin. So I really liked the symbolism in the scene with James' burial. People were whispering about Frado and how she was not dressed appropriately. She mourned no less than anyone else at the burial and had no less right to be there, but the others failed to see that because of the color of her ribbon. This time, though, she ignored the remarks because "she had a sorrow with which such were small in comparison" (Wilson, 55). She realized that there are things much more important than people's opinions, and that nobody had the right to tell her anything just because they didn't like the color she was wearing.

Jane's Marriage

While reading "Our Nig," I was intrigued by the story telling of Jane's selection of a spouse. The dilemma Jane faced is described over the course of six pages, a rather drawn out scene compared to most in the text. The amount of time devoted to talking about Jane's marriage made me question its significance and why it is important to Frado.
The cause of the mini-crisis presented in the text is due to the necessity for Jane to decide between two potential spouses: Henry, the man imposed on her by her mother, and George, the man she really loved. Unexpectedly, Frado seems confused that Jane even has such a choice because Jane is handicapped and chronically ill. Perplexed, Frado questions, "Was it strange she should seem a desirable companion, a treasure as a wife" (55)? Perhaps this is why the scene is so drawn out.
By writing about this occurence, Frado (and the reader) grows to understand that a white girl who is handicapped and dependent on others is more valued in society than a hard working black person. Despite her physical limitations and the restrictions on freedom due to those limitations, Jane still has the privelege of choice. In support of Jane's right to marry whom she wants, Mr. B says "A free voluntary choice was of such importance to her health. She must be left free to her own choice" (60). It is as if to say that even though Jane essentially is not free due to her physical limitations, her sense of freedeom can still be upheld by simply allowing her to choose. It is this choice that Frado does not have, and in some ways, does not believe herself to deserve. Though she is physically and mentally strong, her lack of choice in her life enslaves her.
In consequence, this raises questions of whether or not Frado would be perceived as free if she were given some choice of where to live, what to do. Even if she had to finish all the same chores, would she be considered freer if she got to choose when and how to do them? If she were given a choice between which family she worked for, even if conditions were similar, would this represent a higher degree of freedom?

Perception vs. Reality

Throughout the book, Harriet Wilson reminds the reader of a certain kind of duality associated with her existence: "Our Nig" vs. Harriet Wilson and "Freedom" vs. "Slavery". For me, the juxtaposition of these separate ideas seems to exemplify the idea of perception and reality.

On one hand, the name "Our Nig" was one that was forced onto Frado. Although the name is dehumanizing and in no way representative of the kind of person Frado truly is, the name weaves its way into the vernacular of the Bellmont household. On the other side, Frado and her identity have to compete with the idea that she is the Bellmont's "Nig". Although Frado lives in the so-called "free North", we see very clearly that she is practically forced into slavery. In addition we also see an inherent contradiction between the reality and perception of race. Frado is born light enough to the point where she might be mistaken for a white - delegitamizing ambiguous titles such as black and white. However, Frado is forced to tan in the sun only to reinforce the false misconceptions of Mrs. Bellmont.

With the juxtaposition of these two ideals, Wilson is able to show the hypocrisy of white society's perceptions by pointing out her own reality or by pointing out the reality of another "Nig".

innocent truth

Last class I forgot to bring up one of my favorite dialogues in the book.  It is a discussion between James and Frado as he puts her to sleep.  Frado asks James who made her, him, and the rest of the family.  Her concluding questions include: "Did the same God that made her [Mrs. B] make me [Frado]?" and "Why didn't he make us both white?" (p.28-29).  I like how Harriet E. Wilson brings up such deep (and at the time controversial) thoughts in such an innocent manner.  Frado uses simple logic in recognizing the fact that both blacks and whites are equally human.  In doing so, she cleverly relates herself and Mrs. B as creations of God, who is indisputable to the pious.  This solidifies the justification of equality through both morality and religion.  In asking why God did not make both Frado and Mrs. B white, Wilson surfaces the idea that a person cannot escape the life he or she is born into.  While Mag made choices that shaped her lonely life, Frado's life was determined solely by the color of her skin.

Epiphany

One particular moment sticks out at me as I finish the novel: the moment when, about to be beaten again without cause, Frado commands Mrs. Bellmont to "Stop," saying, "strike me, and I'll never work a mite more for you."  It seemed to me that this would always have been a legitimate threat, as Frado is a free woman, despite her lower class status.  I could understand that this was simply an avenue that she hadn't explored until this point, a thought so emboldened and outside the realm that it took Frado time to conceive of it.  But in my view, this could have been the end of the book (or the end of the story in real life, for that matter).  Wilson writes on the next page, "Thus passed a year.  The usual amount of scolding, but fewer whippings."  Why does Frado endure any whippings at all?  It is clear that Mrs. Bellmont needs her more than she needs Mrs. Bellmont.  She is in a position to resist the whippings, the kind of treatment that characterized her time with the Bellmonts to that point.  This should have been the end of such treatment, and, in essence, the end of the story, but it wasn't.  Frado in fact spends a good deal more time with her tyrant, and we never again see an instance when she herself refuses to be beaten.  Is this simply the result of a damaged psyche?  Or is there some other pragmatic concern that prevents her from acting that I just missed?

Mr. and Mrs. B

Although Mr. B does not agree with Mrs. B's treatment of Frado he does nothing to stop her, which, in my opinion, is just as bad. Mr. B treats Frado like a pet, occasionally putting his foot down when he feels she is being unnecessarily mistreated. He sends Frado to school because he feels she should be educated, but does not stop Mrs. B from withdrawing her from the school. He tells Mrs. B that Frado should not be beaten but leaves the room when she is about to be scolded. Because Mr. B is a white man living in the north one could assume that he is against slavery, and Frado is indeed a free person. However her living conditions are abhorrent and Mr. B tries, only sometimes, to make her life better.

Frado never mentions Mr. B as someone she can go to for help like she does Aunt Abby and Jack. Mr. B is of little help to Frado because he cannot stand up to his wife. He lets Mrs. B be in control even past his own objections. Jack and Mary have a similar relationship. Although Jack will speak up for Frado in the presence of his mother when Jack is with Mary he refers to her as "nig" and almost reverts in behavior. Mary and Mrs. B seem to have holds on their male family members and can control how Frado is treated.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Mag Smith - Fact or Fiction? Black or white?

I would like to bring up a discrepancy I have found regarding the race of Frado’s mother in Our Nig. In the novel, Frado laments on white Mag Smith’s (her mother’s) fall from white society. She not only had and lost a child out of wedlock, but married a black man named Jim with whom she bore Frado. “She was now expelled from companionship with white people; this last step−her union with a black−was the climax of repulsion” (11). Mag struggled with her biracial marriage and acceptance; she was ignored by the whites but not accepted by blacks either. Mag’s struggle with finding her identity between the two cultures reminds me of Mary Jemison’s similar struggle between acceptance in white and Indian society. Like Mag, Jemison was white, but lived in Indian society where she had a biracial marriage and mixed heritage children. Neither Mag nor Mary ever fully belonged in or completely identified with either of their two conflicting societies.

The cruelties of white society also plague her mulatto daughter Frado in the novel. Frado knows her mother was white and was herself light mulatto colored as a child, but seems to identify herself with black society. Mrs. B furthers this societal subversion with Frado’s slave-like role and physically tries to make Frado appear darker. “She was not many shades darker than Mary now; what a calamity it would be ever to hear the contrast spoken of. Mrs. Bellmont was determined the sun should have full power to darken the shade which nature had first bestowed upon her as best fitting” (22). Frado laments to James, “Because [God] made her white, and me black. Why didn’t he make us both white?” (29). Frado struggles with the idea of race and her place in society as a free, yet still enslaved, black woman.

However, fact and fiction meet in the Introduction to the story. From historical evidence, the Introduction asserts that Mag Smith (short for Margaret Smith) was believed to be the real name of Hattie Wilson’s mother. Historical records found in the newspaper the Boston Patriot report on the death of Margaret Ann Smith. The report starts, “Margaret Ann Smith, black, late of Portsmouth N.H....” (xxvIII). The historical record states that Wilson’s mother was black, as opposed to white in the story. This would change Wilson's race, and if the character Frado mirrors her life, would change Frado’s race from mulatto to black in the novel. Would this change how Frado would have seen herself and her struggle with white society in the novel? Also, the extent to which Wilson’s actual life is mirrored in her fictional novel is raised. Was Wilson’s mother historically black, or were historians wrong in identifying Margaret Ann Smith as her mother? If Wilson’s mother was really black, why is Frado’s mother white in the novel? To what extent then, could this fictional story be considered Wilson’s autobiography?

NYT Article: "Our Nig"'s Legacy

For Some, Uncertainty Starts at Racial Identity

Pay close attention to the language interviewees use to discuss Sen. Obama as a "mixed race" person who is "neither/nor."

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Time

The theme of time plays a significant role both the novel and the movie. Dylan obsesses the about the concepts of time, especially the interplay between the past and present, and how they have affected and inspired him. Dylan’s heroes are all from the past. He idolizes all the John Henry’s, cowboys, and other good old American heroes in his folk songs, and is most inspired by Woody Guthrie. Dylan describes, “The madly complicated world was something I took little interest in… All this was current, played out and in the open” (20). The “this” refers to Dylan’s repertoire of past inspirations—Woody Guthrie, John Henry-type heroes, cowboys—and how their messages are universal and appear in the present. However, Dylan is very aware of his present surroundings, and constantly gives the reader a background of current events to put his story and actions into context. He talks of the Kennedy, King and Malcom X assassinations and how it affects him as a father (114). He mentions Castro and Cuba, Vietnam and the student reaction in 1968, and even the Johnny Cash radio show. Dylan found a balance between the present and past in his life and music; his autobiography chronicles pop culture and Americana from the 50’s onward (maybe the reason he titles his novel The Chronicles: Volume One? Long stretch I know...)

I’m Not There furthers this relationship between the past and present. One of my favorite lines about time in the movie was when the hostess told Woody to “sing about his own time.” It contradicts Dylan’s original focus solely on the past, and explains the inspiration for some of his musical transitions. The characters in the story are also living in different time eras and all represent different times in their lives. They are related in a way that transcends or deals with time. For instance, Billy, who lives back in old Western Times, meets up with 11 year old Woody Guthrie at Riddle (Dylan’s hometown). The old personality and childhood personality meet in the same time era, both in the past. Another examples is how Robbie makes his break into the acting scene by playing Jack and the mysticism surrounding his turn to religion. This interrelation between the characters scrambles any logical structure of time. What is Dylan trying to say about time in the novel? Chronology is not important, but why does he chose to tell us certain things about his life and inspirations at certain times in the novel when we have already read (or haven’t read) certain parts?

Although the future is not discussed as prevalently, my favorite line is the same quote Vu used a mere post before: “The future was nothing to worry about. It was awfully close” (104). The concept of the future inherently symbolizes mystery. Dylan personifies this through his mystic portrayal. Even the novel’s title plays into the mystery of the future, implying that perhaps there will be a Volume Two. I am not exactly what to make on Dylan’s views on the future. Any thoughts?

book vs. movie

I don't know what everyone else thinks, but to me, visualizing Dylan as one person is much easier in the book than the movie.  Maybe the dramatized lives of each of the characters in the movie create that disconnect because their stories are so extreme yet so different.  

The movie clearly had some fictional parts to it (ostrich and giraffe in the Halloween town, Dylan floating in the air while leashed to the ground) which both confused me and enriched the Dylan lore.  Dylan admits to lying about and embellishing his past in Chronicles, but the book doesn't seem to contain anything too farfetched.  Does Dylan just cleverly hide the fictional aspects of the book?  Or is most of the book fictional and I am just overlooking it?  After all, he speaks in detail about every acquaintance, place he's performed, etc. over 40 years later.  

When contemplating the movie I continue to question why Jack Rollins evolves into Pastor John when no other characters go through such a metamorphosis.  Is Dylan saying that the introduction to religion changed him more than anything else in his life?  I keep asking myself what all the images, subtleties, and allusions mean, and I feel like that is exactly the question Dylan and Todd Haynes were trying to conjure out of the audience.

Phone Booth

“The phone booths were like sanctuaries” (225).
Dylan does not have a problem with being alone; in fact Dylan’s obsession with the tranquility and peacefulness that comes with privacy is reverberant throughout his entire autobiography. On page 225 he claims that the phone booths of the city drive the noise and dirt away, but the fact of the matter is that the people on the other side of the line are not alone or private. As soon as Dylan gives off any signal of his being/whereabouts it will become public.
After Dylan explains to the irony behind being able to seclude oneself to the privacy of a city phone booth (while opening oneself to the public), he moves on to tell of his childhood and teenage years. He makes public the ideologies and learning’s from his early childhood. It is important to note that Dylan’s story is not chronological, and he often steps away from different anecdotes in his life in order to tell of another.
I thought the most interesting part of chapter five involved Dylan’s vivid explanation as to how his recordings with Lou went down. Dylan quite modestly and cunningly clarifies the fact that he was not a songwriter, at least not a conventional songwriter. He explains that he rearranges old blues ballads, and eventually adds an original line here or there. In my opinion, Dylan’s perspective towards himself and his music is vividly different to the Dylan who was speaking in the beginning of his autobiography. Dylan’s modesty was evident at first, but there was a clear sense of arrogance in his telling of what was to come for his future as a musician. Now that he has told the reader of his journey up to this point he feels that there is nothing to hide; Dylan must reveal all his secrets.
On page 228, Dylan continues to bash on his own musical style. He claims that his music is simple and was not thought consuming. He rambles on in his recordings with Lou, without a sense of remembrance.
Dylan then claims that for a while he rode on the shoulders of Woody Guthrie in his music.
Perhaps Dylan feels like the privacy he had gained from his “phone booth” has been exploited by the publicity of his life on the other line (perhaps the reader).

The Cryptic Nature of Dylan

I am surprised that no one yet has made a post on the very cryptic nature of Dylan.

First off, the structure of Chronicles is not particularly conducive to the more traditional, straight-forward, and linear approach to the biography. Instead, Dylan writes in a very discursive, seemingly spontaneous style. He tends to travel from one short story explaining each with intimate detail. The format is not confusing; however, the cryptic nature of Dylan's words and overall different approach to writing does confuse me.

Within each passage, Dylan starts in a manner where he simply recalls his past actions and conversations; however, by the end of each passage, Dylan each conclude the story by explaining some kind of phenomena about himself or about life in incredibly vague and non-descript terms to me at least.

There are plenty of examples of these kinds of passages throughout the book. To end chapter two, Dylan writes "She poured the steaming coffee and I turned towards the street window. The whole city was dangling in front of my nose. I had a vivid idea of where everything was. The future was nothing to worry about. It was awfully close" (104). I have so many questions about these last three sentences I would not know where to start. What does he mean when he says "dangling in front of my nose" or "a vivid idea of where everything was?" Why doesn't he worry about the future? What was close? Was it his destiny or fate? And probably most importantly of all, what prompts Dylan to write these last sentences? Being perfectly honest, after reading those sentences, I feel like I missed something incredibly important about finishing chapter two.

Is Dylan simply saying that he has a firm idea now of his goals and of where he wants to go? If any of you guys can help with the reading of this book or this passage, that would be awesome.

Todd Haynes

I'm Not There reminded me of A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison, and The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas. All three of them were not written by the person whose life they describe. We looked at Seaver and Stein to better understand their works and the people whose biographies they wrote. So I thought it will help us better understand this movie and how much it is really about Dylan if we pay closer attention to Todd Haynes, its director.

Here is a link to an interview with Haynes that I found interesting and helpful - http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2007/11/27/im-not-there-director-_n_69665.html

When we are thinking about the movie and how it is supposed to show us Dylan's real identities, it is important to remember that Haynes has never even met Dylan. He based the movie on "[Dylan's] published writings, his lyrics, all the records and unreleased material and all the biographies written about him", "his own creative influences, starting with folk music and traditional music, Woody Guthrie and his writings", "the symbolist poets and beat poetry", the Old Testament. So how much of Dylan do we see? I think all we see is Haynes and his own understanding of Dylan. That doesn't make the movie less worth of our attention but we should certainly have it in mind before as we are analyzing it.

Something on the side, the seventh character in the movie, according to Haynes, was supposed to be "a silent-screen, Chaplin-like Dylan, who performs these little feats of magic and whimsy in Greenwich Village and ultimately resolves the conflict between the Beats and the Folkies, a very Romeo-and-Juliet moment". Haynes decided not to include that personality though (he might have realized the movie was confusing enough with six identities :) ).

The Chronicles and I'm Not There: A Comparison

At the end of class yesterday, we were asked to consider whether the movie and the book provided us with a different sense of Dylan. My immediate reaction to the question was to say yes, but at the time I could not articulate why. After thinking it over, I would like to return to the question to do it a bit more justice.
One thing I noticed about the book (Dylan's autobiography) versus, the movie (his biography) was that the book was, in a way, far less personally revealing than the movie. This is ironic since the autobiography is usually considered to be more insightful. However, in the movie, we are able to see bits of Dylan's personal life, such as his struggles with his wife and children. Unlike the book, the characters in I'm Not There are given names and have faces. Through the plotline of the movie, we are able to witness their family's inner dynamic and struggle. Even though Dylan claims his family is immensely important in his autobiography, he only refers to his family at a surface level. We are not given any information about Dylan's children (their ages, sexes, birthdays, names) nor his wife. Reasonably, this is out of Dylan's desire to protect the privacy of his family at all cost--a wish that is not entirely upheld in the movie. Thus, the lack of personal details included in The Chronicles, in a sense, maintain's the mystery of Dylan's private life.
Stemming from this, we are then left to question Dylan's motives for writing an autobiography if he still desires to keep his private life secret. This ties into another difference between I'm Not There and The Chronicles. In the movie, care is taken to paint a broad perspective of who Dylan is and how he was perceived. It tells the complex stor of his life. On the other hand, in his autobiography, Dylan seems less concerned with revealing the true story of himself and more concerned with revealing the true story of his music. Dylan brings up who his inspirations were, where his rhythms came from, and how his lyrics developed from his thoughts. Thus, perhaps the reason why the two are so different is that one focuses on Dylan, while the other is focused more specifically on his music and the creative process.