#pleres

[truestory2014]

Relax and Rolex

As the wretched sounds of Anwar's gagging still ring in my ears, I can see why this documentary was hard to watch alone. The attitudes of Anwar Congo, Herman Koto, and the other killers seemed to have such inherently inverted understandings of what is right and wrong that I began to ask myself, is this how people really are and my own impositions of morality are simply the product of Western civilization? Am I being biased by thinking that they seemed barbaric and completely amoral? But obviously, that wasn't entirely the case. Although Anwar said that he and his fellow gangsters would do anything for money to buy new clothes and although Herman blatantly said that he was running for and although many of the killers, namely Adi Zulkadry, stubbornly continued to be in denial, in the end, Anwar and the other killers started to experience guilt and the reconsideration of their actions. The main reason why they were able to maintain their sanity and continue on their daily lives without more than occasional nightmares was the entrenched practice of justification. Justification worked so well in this case because of the gangsters' "creation" (more than simply classification) of the Other, which they called the Communists. With the point of a Pancasilan finger, the boundaries of this group of Communists quickly became limitless to the point where the newspaper editor explicitly said that his job was "change their words...to make the public hate them" and "human rights" concerning the Communists' executions was a serious nuisance to Anwar. Not only did the public have no choice other than to reject any association with the "Communists" but even the gangsters' themselves never seemed to have relented in their hatred of the Other. As the TV host said, "God hates Communists."

I also found Anwar's obsession with movies to be very interesting in how they significantly influenced his motive and methods of killing of the "movie theater gangsters." Anwar constantly referred to his attraction to Hollywood films, gangster films, and sadistic movies, even directly stating that he felt motivated to act tougher and more violent that the actors of those films. I mean, talk about the potential affects of video games on Anwar...at one point, the documentary seemed to suggest a correlation between Anwar's killings and Westernization (but that might be a stretch). 

Although I was EXTREMELY nervous to watch the documentary (especially alone), I found the course of the film to be very predictable. That is not to say that the content was very sickening but I certainly expected that Anwar and the killers would experience some degree of guilt, regret, and sadness as a result of reenacting the scenes, as the documentary did show. I can only hope that Anwark will finally go to a shrink and let it go.

PS. I thought it was HILARIOUS when Herman and his family, during his campaign photoshoot, yelled as "Ahh!!" instead of "Cheese!!".

[truestory2014]

The Minority Struggle: My thoughts on the conference

To be honest, I didn't expect to enjoy the conference as much as I did simply because I thought, how can I enjoy hearing someone talk about a work I have never read? But what struck me was how universal and relatable the ideas were in the TO conference. I especially appreciated how the two different panels I attended both dealt with the theme of seeking identity in a dichotomously structured and white society. The first panel was titled "On the Outs" and two fascinating essays by Jinny Choi and our very own Shelby were centered on the struggle of minority groups to establish an identity and culture within the entrenched dichotomy of the whites verus the "others." Personally, I grew up thinking that things are what they are within the community, never having a legitimate conflict of identity as a result of simultaneously living with Korean and American cultures; I simply thought that it was my responsibility to make the best out my particular "situation." So I really appreciated this panel in how it challenged me to think further of the historical context of Asian American identity since I myself am surrounded by it. The second panel titled "Cause + Effect" was just as intriguing as one particularly essay by Sara Krevoy talked about a "double conscious" or the "two warring ideals in one dark body" that African Americans have faced. This identity asks the same question from the first panel: what does it mean to be a minority in America? All three essays seemed to conclude that the pursuit of the white standard inevitably leaves the person disadvantaged since he/she can never fully be white or whichever cultural identity he/she has left. In the end, it's only the minority individual who gets hurt while society continues on with being...white.

I also learned quite a lot on presentation skills, especially from Kyle Hrabe who executed an excellent "performance" while reading her essay. I call it a performance because she not only used a commanding, confident voice to draw her listeners but also engaged visually with appropriate hand gestures ( I mean, she successfully kept me wide awake as my food coma started kicking in at around 8 PM). As part of the audience, i realized how the execution of your reading or any presentation significantly affects how your work is perceived. 

Concerning my own presentation in class last week, I think it went pretty well. The most memorable and nerve-racking aspect was the Q&A section because it forced me to constantly move outside the boundaries of my own thesis and draw connections to other entirely different ideas. After watching others present, I can think of many ways to improve on presenting a work, such as fluidity and consistency in certain tones. But that's what made the presentation a great learning experience in building confidence and professionalism.

And by the way, the wheat rolls from the first conference night were amazing....

[truestory2014]

Being Special

Last week, I had an issue with Part I in which Didion seemed to address a homogenous “white” Californian identity that didn’t include the endless variations of diversity in the picture. In the beginning of Part II, Didion (thankfully) explains herself. The reason why I, also a Californian, felt so left out of the so-called Californian experience that was rather exclusive was because I am the second type of Californian, a member of the “new people.” I couldn’t identify with any of the supposedly intrinsic traits simply because I was part of the later group: my ancestors didn’t cross the Oregon Trail; my parents didn’t teach me “the code of the West” or the responsibility to kill rattlesnakes for our neighbors’ safety; and because of this, I wasn’t able to understand this Californian exceptionalism that the “old people” would proudly like to point to. And sure, since I didn’t have the same familial and historical ties deeply rooted to Californian soil, of course, I wouldn’t be able to understand without having learned it in my 4th grade textbook. However, it was this type of dichotomy, the new versus the old, that the ‘original’ Californians tended to draw and this desire to ‘exceptionalize’ themselves that ultimately  deluded many generations of having a special identity. 

The contradictions that Didion identifies highlights the other ways old Californians tended to dichotomize society in order to maintain the illusion of Californian exceptionalism. Here are some that she mentions: the new middle-class “ownership” class that was funded entirely by the “good will of the federal government” and “on defense contracts” (110, 129); all-American “sound American citizens” stubbornly holding onto new traditions of the new community when their jobs are in retrospect, temporal (143); Californian society being seen as the “average national culture and character” when clearly Californians had a very different experience that the rest of the country (189); and Californians thinking themselves to be relatively “loose, less socially rigid” despite having an obsession with prisons and asylums (195). A question posed in Henry George’ “What the Railroad Will Bring Us” strikes the heart of it all: “Can we have one thing without the other?” (146). 

Although I expect less people to struggle with Didion’s same search for identity in the midst of discovering all of these contradictions since even less people are familiar with her Californian experience, I appreciate her demythifying the Californian illusion because it might help explain the historical context of the problems we face today, such as on continuing financial dependency on the fed.

[plereschoi]

Being Special

Last week, I had an issue with Part I in which Didion seemed to address a homogenous "white" Californian identity that didn't include the endless variations of diversity in the picture. In the beginning of Part II, Didion (thankfully) explains herself. The reason why I, also a Californian, felt so left out of the so-called Californian experience that was rather exclusive was because I am the second type of Californian, a member of the "new people." I couldn't identify with any of the supposedly intrinsic traits simply because I was part of the later group: my ancestors didn't cross the Oregon Trail; my parents didn't teach me "the code of the West" or the responsibility to kill rattlesnakes for our neighbors' safety; and because of this, I wasn't able to understand this Californian exceptionalism that the "old people" would proudly like to point to. And sure, since I didn't have the same familial and historical ties deeply rooted to Californian soil, of course, I wouldn't be able to understand without having learned it in my 4th grade textbook. However, it was this type of dichotomy, the new versus the old, that the 'original' Californians tended to draw and this desire to 'exceptionalize' themselves that ultimately  deluded many generations of having a special identity. 

The contradictions that Didion identifies highlights the other ways old Californians tended to dichotomize society in order to maintain the illusion of Californian exceptionalism. Here are some that she mentions: the new middle-class "ownership" class that was funded entirely by the "good will of the federal government" and "on defense contracts" (110, 129); all-American "sound American citizens" stubbornly holding onto new traditions of the new community when their jobs are in retrospect, temporal (143); Californian society being seen as the "average national culture and character" when clearly Californians had a very different experience that the rest of the country (189); and Californians thinking themselves to be relatively "loose, less socially rigid" despite having an obsession with prisons and asylums (195). A question posed in Henry George' "What the Railroad Will Bring Us" strikes the heart of it all: "Can we have one thing without the other?" (146). 

Although I expect less people to struggle with Didion's same search for identity in the midst of discovering all of these contradictions since even less people are familiar with her Californian experience, I appreciate her demythifying the Californian illusion because it might help explain the historical context of the problems we face today, such as on continuing financial dependency on the fed.

[truestory2014]

Californian: We are apparently not who we are

As a "Californian" who grew up learning about ostrich and orange farms and dutifully did her part in the sixth grade play about the glorious California, I found myself constantly lost while reading Didion's Where I Was From. Perhaps it's because of the fact that my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother wasn't from the Virginia frontiers but from an obscure Korean village. Or perhaps it was because my personal history with California began with my parent's 'migration,' if you will, instead of going back generations to the days of the Oregon Trail and Native Americans. But I found it difficult to identify with her usage of "we," the true Californian pioneers with the "heroic imperatives" to revive the land, despite having grown up in this said land. So it was a bit frustrating to read Didion going on about a collective Californian people when I obviously was excluded from this group despite having grown up here.

Putting myself aside, I  appreciated how Didion challenged the grand argument about the so-called Californian narrative and identity--that Californians have been from the start dependent on the federal government and for that reason created illusions of heroic independence and rationalizations of land entitlement. This cyclic pattern was kept alive since the very act of self-delusion deepened this inevitable reliance on the fed. Even though I myself didn't identify with the traditional narrative, it was really interesting to see Didion attack each myth of and uncover the ironies of the narrative. For example, Didion argues that the Bohemian Club paralleled California's huge irony of seemingly glorious independence when in reality, it was "an entirely dependent colony." I have absolutely no idea what to expect in Part 2 but I look forward to seeing more ironies  revealed and less historical figures whom I have never heard of mentioned. 

[truestory2014]

I admit I rarely watch documentaries (or maybe even never...) on my own; the ones I did watch was because they were required to watch in high school. What prevented me from watching a documentary was my understanding of how boring it would be. My original perception of a documentary was a nonfiction film that aimed to relay information, based on valid truth of course, about a particular subject. Since the content had to be truthful, certain cinematic and literary elements, such as plot twists, dramatic scenes, or interesting dialogue, that would distort the representation of truth would not be allowed; the soundtrack would be the only exception. So I never bothered watching documentaries.

Now, with "Stories We Tell," I don't know if it was because I had the entirely wrong perception of documentaries or because the film wasn't really documentary-like, but it was without doubt interesting. The fascinating storyline was probably the entire reason why both Harry and Mike started writing their own versions of the story; they both knew it would make a "great, great story." But can life, as it is, really be portrayed in a story? Or do the storytellers keep some secrets, while revealing others so that the main story could be kept flowing? One thing that made me skeptical about the truthfulness of the interviews was in the very last scene. Geoff, the once hugely disputed "father" of Sarah, admitted that he did, in fact, sleep with Diane once, when he had made it clear earlier that his relationship with Diane was strictly friendly.

But then again, this just goes to show how complex this story really is, and that, I know, is the truth. Since recounting their versions of the past regarding Diane was emotional and at times painful, the interviewed people understandably may have not revealed the whole truth (whatever that means). Also, the clips of Diane and the family pieced throughout the film weren't even actual screenings of them, but acted by actors based on whatever Diane told them to convey. So in the end, what am I really going for here? A completely accurate collection of facts or a general idea revealing the complexity of Diane and the family? Personally, I thoroughly enjoyed the film because of the truth (...this word is used too many times) it shed light on how and why we tell stories. My favorite quotes: "It's only a story when you're telling it to yourself or someone else" and "[there are] many fascinating stories...to be told in one's life without having to look for what an interesting story." This documentary was a warming film that will continue to challenge me in the way that I try to understand my own family stories as I've always been told.

[truestory2014]

Being Asian American

Is Kingston an introvert? I can't seem to answer this question, because it's a very blurry line between her actual personality and her cultural background. One might think she's introverted because of her incredible difficulty in speaking up in her public school classroom. But Kingston prescribes this to having to be "a Chinese girl" or even to perhaps assume an "American-feminine speaking personality" (166, 172). One might also think she's introverted because of her discomfort in sharing her "list of over two hundred things" with her mother because of an insurmountable wall of misunderstanding and foreignness between them (197). But then, she also includes that she couldn't possibly tell her mom because she knew her mother was probably too tired and mentally distant to understand, being a busy laundry woman in Chinatown. So what really causes her to feel so bottled up inside that  caused her pain in her throat? Was it because she really was an intrinsically shy person or because she had to grow up under the ideal of the Chinese quiet, obedient girl in a more open and declarative American society, which is understandably a very confusing childhood? 

I think this is only one of many obstacles she or other Chinese or Asian American children struggle with even today, especially while attending public schools. For example, she felt conflicted while singing "land where our fathers died" because of her lack of generational history in America and her own absent experience in China. Being caught in two worlds and histories, it's understandably hard for her to understand her cultural identity, let alone explain it to the druggist, who thought she asked for candy not for out of Chinese custom but out of hunger. Although I didn't personally experience the same level of hardships as an Asian American, Kingston's frustration towards cultural misunderstandings and the search for a cultural identity definitely struck a chord. 

[truestory2014]

The Swinging of Bloody Chicken

What made my first impression of the book was the "bloody" scene of the villagers raiding the home of the narrator's family. What was especially interesting was how the raid represented so many other themes other than just simply adultery. One who is not familiar with Chinese traditions has to wonder if the Chinese villagers could really be so hateful and nearly barbaric: "they threw mud and rocks," "one woman swung a chicken," "they ripped up her her clothes" (4). But as the narrator continues with her story, there is obviously more to the story. First, the village seems to function on a transparent equilibrium and wholeness that assured them villagers of good fortune; since the aunt shattered the "roundness" and the bonding faith of the community, she was punished. This reminded me of the after-effects of the Clutter murders in Holcomb, when suddenly generations-old neighbors and friends couldn't help but start locking their homes and lose trust.

Also, the raid seems to be either a culmination or an outburst of pent-up emotions that had been suppressed for many generations of the passive-aggressive villagers. These villagers were devoted practitioners of the "outcast table," where instead of banishing outsiders, they would force them to eat the leftovers of the community while they glared. So the sudden break into violence seems to be an unusual divergence. But even the raid actually seems to be a passive-aggressive act since the villagers destroyed and slaughtered everything around the aunt and the family except for the victims themselves. This passive-aggressive punishment continues on long after the aunt's death by "reverse ancestor worship" of forgetting and "starving" the aunt's ghost. Although the raid seems extreme as a form of punishment on a woman literally giving birth the same day, knowing how the village has been and is kept together makes it more understandable.